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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78686-0.txt b/78686-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30d78ec --- /dev/null +++ b/78686-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6041 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78686 *** + + + + + JACK BRAG. + + VOL. I. + + + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, + Dorset Street, Fleet Street. + + + + + JACK BRAG. + + BY THE AUTHOR OF + + “SAYINGS AND DOINGS,”--“MAXWELL,” &c. + + IN THREE VOLUMES. + + VOL. I. + + LONDON: + + RICHARD BENTLEY, + + NEW BURLINGTON STREET. + + 1837. + + + + + JACK BRAG. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + +“My dear Johnny,” said the respectable widow Brag to her son, “what +is the good of your going on in this way? Here, instead of minding +the business, you are day after day galloping and gallivanting, +steeple-chasing, fox-hunting, lord-hunting, a wasting your time and +your substance, the shop going to old Nick, and _you_ getting dipped +instead of your candles.” + +“Mother,” said Jack, “don’t talk so foolishly! You are of the old +school,--excellent in your way, but a long way behindhand: the business +is safe enough. You cannot suppose, with the education I have had, I +can meddle with moulds, or look after sixes, tens, fours to the pound, +or farthing rushlights;--no, thanks to my enlightenment, I flatter +myself I soar a little higher than that.” + +“No nonsense, Johnny!” said Mrs. Brag. “All you have now, and all you +have spent since your poor father’s death, was gained by your father’s +enlightenment of his customers: and how do you suppose I can carry on +the trade if you will not now and then attend to it?” + +“Take my advice, my dear mother,” said Jack, “and marry. I’m old enough +now not to care a fig for a father-in-law;--marriage is the plan, as I +say to my friend Lord Tom--straight up, right down, and no mistake. Get +a sensible, stir-about husband, who does not mind grubbing, and hasn’t +a nose----” + +“Hasn’t a nose?” interrupted Mrs. Brag. + +“I don’t mean literally,” said Jack, “but sportingly;--does not mind +the particular scent of tallow--you understand. Let him into the tricks +of the trade: you will still be queen-bee of the hive,--make _him_ look +after the drones while you watch the wax.” + +“And while _you_, Johnny, lap up the honey,” said the queen-bee. + +“Do what you like,” said her son, “only marry--‘marry come up,’ as +somebody says in a play.” + +“But, John,” said Mrs. Brag, “I have no desire to change my condition.” + +“Nor I that you should,” said Jack; “but I wish you would change your +name. As long as ‘Brag, wax and tallow-chandler,’ sticks up on the +front of the house, with three dozen and four dangling dips swinging +along the shop-front, like so many malefactors expiating their crimes, +I live in a perpetual fever lest my numerous friends should inquire +whether I am one of the firm or the family.” + +“Johnny,” said Mrs. Brag, “you are a silly fellow. What is there to +be ashamed of in honest industry? If all the fine folks whom you go +a-hunting with, and all the rest of it, like you, and are really glad +to see you, it is for yourself alone: and if they, who must know by +your name and nature that you can never be one of themselves, care a +button for you, your trade, so as you do not carry it about with you, +will do you no harm. What difference is it to them how you get your +thorough-bred horses, your smart scarlet coat, neat tops, and white +cords, so as you have them?--they won’t give you any new ones when they +are gone.” + +“It is all very well talking,” said Johnny, “but I never should show my +face amongst them if I once thought they guessed at my real trade. I +live in a regular worry as it is. If ever a fellow asks me if I was at +Melton last year, that moment I think of the shop--‘pretty mould of a +horse’ tingles in my ears--‘sweet dip of the country’ sets me doubting; +and, only last week, a proposal to go ’cross country and meet Lord +Hurricane’s harriers at Hampton Wick nearly extinguished me.” + +“And what now, Johnny,” said Mrs. Brag, “do you think these lords take +you for, if not for a tallow-chandler?” + +“An independent gentleman,” said Jack. + +“That is to say,” replied his mother, “a gentleman who has nothing to +depend upon.” + +“They look upon me as an agreeable rattle,” said John. + +“One that has often been in the watchman’s hands too,” said the old +lady. + +“I talk big and ride small,” said Jack, “I am always up with the +hounds--never flinch at anything,--am the pride of the field wherever I +go,--and in steeple-chases of infinite value.” + +“And very little weight, my dear Johnny,” interrupted his mother. + +“One of my dearest friends,” continued Brag, “Lord Tom Towzle, a deuce +of a fellow amongst the females, is going to put me up as a candidate +at the Travellers.” + +“What, riders for respectable houses?” said Mrs. Brag: “and a very +proper club too.” + +“Respectable houses!” said Jack. “Poh! not a bit of it! What! +bagmen in buggies with boxes of buttons in the boots? No, no! the +Travellers--_par excellence_.” + +“Par what?” said Mrs. Brag. “What, d’ye mean the fine Club-house in +Pall Mall which you showed me the out side of, last King’s birth night?” + +“The same,” said Brag. “Now, if I had stuck to the naked, as Lord Tom +says--told the plain unvarnished--I never could have qualified. Lord +Tom asked me if I should like to belong to the Travellers;--in course +I said yes--straight up, right down, and no mistake. Well, then he asks +me if I could qualify;--so not quite understanding him, he says, ‘Have +you ever been in Greece?’--‘Yes,’ said I:--I _might_ have added ‘up to +the elbows often;’ didn’t though. Had him dead. Down he whips my name, +and calls in Sir Somebody Something out of the street to second me.” + +“If you should get in there Johnny,” said Mrs. Brag, “do get ’em to +give up gas and take to oil on illumination nights. But what I think +is, somebody is sure to find you out, Johnny.” + +“Time enough,” said Jack. “I’m going it now smooth and soft across +the country, increasing my acquaintance; falling into the society of +elegant females--women of fashion, with beautiful faces and liberal +hearts;--introduced to three last week--proud as peacocks to everybody +else, delighted with _me_;--met them at Ascot--cold collation in the +carriage--champaign iced from London;--got on capital--never was so +happy in my life--hottest weather I ever felt; spirits mounted--I was +the delight of the party--told them half a dozen stories of myself, and +made them laugh like cockatoos, but I was bundled all of a heap by the +Marquis of Middlesdale, who had been at luncheon with the King, who, in +passing the barouche, gave me a smack on the back you might have heard +to Egham, and cried out, ‘Jack, this is a melting day, isn’t it?’” + +“He meant it, Johnny, depend upon it,” said Mrs. Brag. + +“I’ve no doubt he did,” said Brag, “for it was as hot as ever I felt +it----” + +“--In the back shop,” interrupted his mother. “But pray, Johnny, where +do these people think you live?” + +“At a great house in Grosvenor-street,” said Jack, “next door to +What-d’ye-call-’em’s Hotel: my name is on the door, and my address on +my card.” + +“But you don’t live there,” said Mrs. Brag. + +“Not I,” replied the son: “I only rent the door.” + +“How d’ye mean?” said his mother. + +“Why, I went to the man,” said Brag, “who keeps the house. ‘Now, sir,’ +said I, ‘I want to rent four square inches of your panels’. He was +puzzled for the moment; but I was down upon him in no time, and no +mistake.--Out I pulls from my pocket a brass plate of those precise +dimensions, whereon is engraven ‘Mr. Brag.’--‘What will you take per +annum,’ said I, ‘to let this be screwed on to your door, and let +your servant take in my cards and letters?’ Startled him a little +at first: however, he entered himself for the plate, acceded to my +proposition,--and so for the trifling consideration of four guineas per +annum, and a tip to the slavey, I get the credit of five windows in +front, three stories high, in one of the best streets in London.” + +“But do none of your friends ever expect to be let in?” said Mrs. Brag. + +“Yes,” said Brag, “for a good thing now and then,--and so they are, +pretty often. Long head, mother--have it here”--tapping his forehead +with his fore finger--“look simple with my fresh colour and curly hair, +but as deep as Garrick--cannot write your X’s, Z’s with me,--else, +in course, they might expect admission. ‘Not at home,’ is always the +answer. ‘Out of town?’ is the next question;--‘Yes,’ is the next +answer.--‘Where?’ comes next.--‘Down at his little place in Surrey.’ +That finishes it. They lodge their pasteboard and away they go.” + +“Little place in Surrey!” said Mrs. Brag;--“why, what d’ye mean?--have +you a country-house too?” + +“Country-house!” said Brag. “Lord bless your dear heart, not I! Nothing +but my old lodging, on the second floor, No. 37, at the carpenter’s, +corner of Caterpillar-row, Kennington.” + +“And _that_ you call your little place in Surrey, do you?” said Mrs. +Brag. + +“Yes, mother, and no fib neither,” said Brag. “It is almost the +littlest place I ever saw in my life; and as for Caterpillar-row, if +it isn’t in Surrey I know nothing of going ’cross a country.” + +“Ah, Johnny, Johnny,” said his respected parent with a mingled look of +sorrow and admiration, “you never will mend till it is too late!” + +“Mother,” said Jack, “now you say that, I think I shall be too late +for Lord Tom Towzle. We are going off for Wigglesford to mark out a +line. All ready for a run: we have got no mercy in us,--none of your +bowling-green, daisy-cutting work for us--no, we’ll try to pick out +rasping fences, bottomless brooks, and ditches as wide as rivers;--a +steeple-chase without killing a horse or two, cracking a collar-bone, +slipping a shoulder, or pitching an out-and-outer on the top of his +conk, is no fun in the world.” + +“Ah! well, well,” said Mrs. Brag, “I wish you would give a little time +to the books and the business: some day you’ll repent this.” + +“Not I, mother,” said Jack; “I can pull up any day and marry. I never +yet saw the woman I could not win--they are all ready to eat me up: in +course, as the book says, I am the more wary--hang back a bit. Don’t +you see, as I get on in the world, I get up; and if I can marry a Lady +Sally or a Lady Susan--eh! won’t that be nice!--’specially if there +happens to be an odd thirty or forty thousand pounds tacked to the +title.” + +“Don’t flatter yourself Johnny,” replied Mrs. Brag, shaking her head: +“_that_ scheme will never answer.” + +“You’ll see,” said Jack;--“I say nothing, but you’ll see. If I were +to sit down and write an account of my adventures with the females, I +should be run after like a sight. The females of fashion that I meet at +the races call me ‘dear Johnny’ as it is.” + +“I wonder you are not afraid of seeing the ghost of your poor father,” +said the widow. + +“What! the Governor?” cried Jack; “never mind ghosts nor Governors, +here is my Leporello. So I’m off. Good-b’ye, dear mother!--you’ll see +me soon again,--I shall be back by Saturday, and so keep snug Sunday.” + +“Where? at your town-house in Grosvenor-street,” said the old lady, +“or your little place in Surrey?” + +“Neither, I take it,” said Jack, looking as wise as a very +foolish person could. “I devote Sunday afternoon to a very select +society--eh!--females of fashion, delightful creatures, and all that. +So adieu!” + +Kissing the matron’s cheek, away went our hero in order to revel in +all the luxuries of sport, and in the society which, he admitted, +kept him in a fever while he was in it: not that the true circle of +his aristocratic acquaintance was particularly large, however much he +nominally increased it by dubbing every man his friend with whom he had +happened to hunt in the same field or dine in a public company of three +hundred and fifty; and every well-dressed woman a lady of fashion whom +he happened to see with the tigers in whose set he mingled. + +Mrs. Brag, who felt extremely anxious about her son and herself, saw +that the business was rapidly “burning down.” The introduction of oil +had superseded wax; and since that, the adoption of gas had superseded +oil. No efforts were made to improve the concern, and all she heard, +was of considerable drafts from the account at the banker’s, and very +small payments into it; and Mrs. Brag, a comely, hearty-looking body +of her time of life, began to ponder the words which her dutiful son +had with little apparent earnestness let drop, as to changing her +condition, with a view to increase the reputation of the house and +extend its sphere of action, while the name at sight of which her son +trembled, might be withdrawn. She did not clearly see her way in this +proceeding: nor had she either fixed her affections upon any particular +object, nor was she conscious that she had attracted the regards of any +suitable partner. However, the notion was entertained--the idea had +been started; and how the exemplary matron set her means to work, in +order to effect the grand object, we may, if we live long enough, yet +discover. + +The reader perhaps, in the few pages which he has yet either been +doomed to, or condescended to read, has already discovered what sort of +man Mr. John Brag is, or was. It seemed best to give a short domestic +scene in the candle-manufactory by way of prelude to the genteel comedy +in which the gay deceiver is destined to perform; and it will be only +necessary to keep in mind the sage yet ineffective lesson of the dear +old body to whom her affectionate son recommended matrimony, in order +duly to appreciate the performance of her “pretty boy,” who, spite +of his colour and his curls, was verging upon what may be called the +“shady side” of thirty. + +Old Mrs. Brag had, as Miss Scropps, married at seventeen; and although, +as far as my own experience goes, I admit I never saw such a thing, +she was said to be a lady of nearly fifty-five years of age, somewhere +about the period at which this glimpse at the history of her yet +unrecorded family begins. + +It may be supposed that I should apologise for bringing the eyes, or +perhaps the noses, of my readers in contact with all the arcana of Mr. +John’s shop; but I have a reason for doing so. I propose not merely to +show by illustration how very ridiculous a pretender must always be, +but to exhibit a striking instance of the retributive justice which +seems somehow to keep the world in an equipoise, by exhibiting the +wonderful utility of which the meanest and stupidest animal extant +may prove; as _vide_ (to quote the words of James the First, about +Dæmonology) the fable of the Lion, the Mouse, and the Meshes. + +Soar we then for a moment from the gloom of the tallow-chandler to a +more charming region, and to people of a different mould,--and yet who, +as the reader will see, may in the course of events become connected, +and intimately too, with our sprightly gentleman in the scarlet jacket +and white cords. Let us, therefore, betake ourselves to the _boudoir_ +of one of the most charming young widows in England, where she is +sitting _tête-à-tête_ with her unmarried sister, talking over two +absent gentlemen, whose tempers and dispositions are the immediate +subject of their conversation. + +Mrs. Dallington, the elder of the two ladies so engaged, had been +married at nineteen, merely to oblige her father, (who died six months +afterwards,) to a gentleman of the name which she still bore; who, to +all the other merits which distinguished his character, emulated in +a high degree the fox-hunting propensities of the tallow-man in the +white cords of whom we have just spoken. He was, however, rich, and +a gentleman, and had a right to make as great a fool of himself as +he pleased,--and so he did: and the foolery began in his leaving a +beautiful wife, with a pair of eyes as black as sloes and as bright as +diamonds, alone and moping, while he was amusing himself by following +his dogs, which dogs were following something certainly not sweeter +than themselves across the country. + +Mr. Dallington, who rode about nine stone four, one fine morning, when +the scent lay “uncommon strong,” the dogs in full cry, the field in a +state of the highest excitement, the fox going away right on-end across +a heavy country, which would probably break the hearts of some of the +horses and the necks of some of the riders, met with a slight accident, +which in fox-hunting goes for very little, but which in its proverbial +or rather convivial parallel, matrimony, goes for something more. In +switching a rasper, the exemplary and high-spirited gentleman missed +his tip and pitched right upon his head in the middle of a ditch, where +he remained exactly long enough to make the lovely wife he had left at +home a very delightful widow. + +Dallington, or at least what had been Dallington in the early part +of the day, was put upon a hurdle and taken to a farmhouse; whence +the melancholy intelligence was conveyed to his lady, who, with all +the respect she felt for her late father’s judgment in selecting him +for her partner for life, considered the event which had just taken +place as philosophically as any woman of strong feelings and a tender +disposition might be supposed to endure any sudden shock which results +from the death of a fellow-creature. + +True, most true it is, she never had felt that sort of love for the +husband forced upon her, as a “fine match,” which a woman ought to feel +for the being who is destined (if he be fortunate enough) to share her +hopes, her wishes, and her happiness. Mrs. Dallington was a creature +all intellect, all vivacity, all fire; full of arch playfulness and +gaiety of heart, and as completely the reverse of her quiet, timid, and +sensitive sister, as light of darkness, fire of water, or any other two +unmeetable opposites. + +There are many adages connected with love and matrimony which it +must be admitted are, however forcible in themselves, extremely +contradictory of each other. But, in the course of considerable +experience in such matters, I am apt to imagine that the real truth +is--supposing always exceptions to general rules--that women are most +apt to prefer men the least like themselves; and men, _vice versâ_. +It is the pride of a little man to have a large wife; it is the +taste of a tall man to possess a short one: a fair woman admires a +dark Lothario; while a bright-eyed brunette delights in blazing away +upon a fair Romeo. A learned man eschews a blue partner; he relaxes +into ease in the company of his ordinarily-educated better-half, and +reposes from his graver studies in the agreeable common-places of an +intelligent but not abstruse associate; while the learned lady prefers +the plodding spouse, and never desires that he should meddle with her +arts and sciences, but merely wishes him to exert his energies in the +comfortable arrangement of their establishment, and the acquirement of +the supplies necessary to set off her own attractions in their most +alluring form before the visitors whom she chooses to invite. + +The assimilation of tempers and dispositions by which happiness +grows between married couples is, in fact, a habit most amiable and +advantageous: the handwritings of men and their wives become like each +other in the course of time. But whether the love of contraries in the +abstract, be or be not so general as some observers would have it to +be, certain it is that in the particular individual case before us it +did exist. + +Sir Charles Lydiard had been, just about the period at which the +reader is introduced to him, some two years paying his addresses to +the vivacious widow Dallington. He was a man of high principle, rigid +honour, polished manners, and most amiable disposition; but he was +cold, reserved, and even suspicious of the object of his affections. +His suspicions, or perhaps they might be more justly called doubts, +arose not from the slightest want of confidence in the candour or +sincerity of the lady, but in a want of confidence in himself. He might +fairly have said to his heroine with Steele’s hero:-- + + ----“Of you I am not jealous,-- + ’Tis my own indesert that gives me fears: + And tenderness forms dangers where they’re not. + I doubt and envy all things that approach thee.” + +There he was, the constant, faithful lover, never away from the house, +sitting and sighing “like furnace,” listening to the gaieties of Mrs. +Dallington’s conversation, a very spectre of despair, not ill described +by the English Aristophanes in the person of one Harry Hectic, with +a bunch of jonquils in his button-hole, looking dead and dressed, +like the waxwork in Westminster Abbey. There was no animating him, +no rousing him into a proposal; his attachment had become habitual, +and day after day the affair went on without “progressing,” as the +Americans have it, one inch. And yet the widow was devoted to Sir +Charles. It must be admitted that she every morning expected _the_ +question; but every evening that expectation was blighted, and the +worthy baronet returned from his placid state of negative happiness +to his solitary home, to lie awake for hours balancing the chances +of matrimony, and endeavouring to make up his mind to the deciding +inquiry which, if the real truth were told, he lingeringly delayed, +apprehensive that it might meet with a negative certain not only to +kill the hopes which sometimes outweighed his doubts, but to put an end +to his acquaintance with the charming widow altogether. + +While Sir Charles Lydiard remained thus drooping in the bright sunshine +of Mrs. Dallington’s eyes, her timid sister Blanche was undergoing a +siege of a very different nature. Far from contenting himself, to use a +military phrase, with sitting down before the place, and establishing a +corps of observation merely to watch the enemy, Frank Rushton, who was +more madly in love than ever dandy had been found to be for many years, +had for the last three months,--the whole period, in fact, of his +acquaintance with her,--been assiduously and incessantly carrying on an +attack upon the heart of his adorable Dulcinea; and, as it appeared, +with as little chance of making an impression as her sister had of +exciting Sir Charles to an offer. In fact, the four players at this +love-game were equally divided into the fiery and frosty; but, which in +the sequel made all the sport, as Mr. Brag would have called it, the +partners were so curiously matched, and the icicles and sunbeams so +regularly and heraldically counter-changed, that the lovers and their +mistresses were the exact opposites of each other. It was extremely +amusing to hear the discussions in which Sir Charles and his friend +Rushton were in the habit of indulging. + +“My dear Frank,” said Sir Charles, “your affection for Blanche is +madness,--the way in which you go on, sets me in a fever: and as for +the poor young creature herself, she is absolutely harassed out of her +wits.” + +“So _you_ think, Sir Charles,” replied Frank; “but it strikes _me_ that +her sister would not be less pleased with your society if you were +to follow my example. Why there you sit, moping and melancholy, as if +you were on the edge of your own grave, instead of being on the verge +of all earthly happiness: you look and languish, sigh and say nothing, +and, like the Cardinal, ‘die, and make no sign.’” + +“It may be so,” said the baronet,--“I suppose it _is_ so; but I +cannot,--struggle as I may with my feelings,--I cannot overcome the +doubts which seem to me to cloud the prospect of the felicity of which +you talk so easily.” + +“Doubts! my dear friend,” said Rushton; “what doubts can you have? Your +doubts are, in fact, jealousies,--and how needless! Mrs. Dallington has +been a wife,--and never was a more exemplary wife in the world.” + +“Her trial was short,” said Sir Charles; “nor should I call it a fair +one,--her marriage was not one of love.” + +“Then so much the greater her credit for the conduct she observed,” +said Rushton. + +“The struggle did not last long,” replied Sir Charles: “her husband was +killed within eight months of their marriage.” + +“She bore her loss like a Christian,” said Rushton. + +“Yes,” sighed the baronet; “it is wonderful to behold the pious +resignation of ladies in her position.” + +“Well,” said Rushton, “if your apprehensions overcome your affection, +and your doubts transcend your hopes, break off the acquaintance at +once,--take your hat and go--” + +“--And be neither missed nor inquired after, in all probability,” said +Lydiard. + +“There you wrong your fair friend,” said Rushton. “She values you, +esteems you, and with a very little trouble on _your_ part would love +you. Your flame is so gentle, that it scarcely warms; and, like the +fire in the grate there, if she did not occasionally stir it with good +nature and kind looks, my belief is, it would go out entirely.” + +“My dear Rushton,” said Sir Charles, “you entirely misunderstand my +character, and the character of my affection for our charming friend: +my doubts are the ‘fruits of love.’” + +“A most disagreeable harvest, Lydiard,” replied Rushton. + +“True,” said Sir Charles, “but I cannot conquer them. You blame my +caution and coldness; but when I see you devoting yourself, hand over +head, if I may so say, to the mild, quiet, timid, blushing creature, +Blanche, I cannot, since I had the honour of introducing you to the +family, but feel anxious on your account. I don’t believe one word of +all those professions of meekness, and mildness, and modesty of which +that young lady is so profusely liberal. I have seen her exchange +looks with her sister,--while you, blinded by your passion, have seen +nothing--which convince me that you would do well to scrutinise and +consider before you plunge into the stormy ocean of matrimony.” + +“Why,” said Rushton, “Blanche is something like Moore’s beautiful Nora +Creena: + + ‘Few her looks, but every one + Like unexpected light surprizes.’” + +“Egad!” said Lydiard, “the light I saw was both surprising and +unexpected. I have some little experience in family telegraphs, but the +signal she threw out was one not altogether complimentary to _you_, +for she seemed to me to be laughing at you.” + +“Don’t be too sure of that, Charles,” said Rushton. “I too have seen +those telegraphic symptoms; and my opinion is, that if _you_ were to +adopt _my_ style of proceeding, you would find the widow much less +attentive to her sister’s evolutions. But no;--you have fallen into a +custom of going there day after day; you feel at your ease, you enjoy +the society and conversation of a delightful person; and because you +have nothing to excite you to action, so the affair goes on--not even a +dash of jealousy to create a fermentation in your cup of nectar.” + +“There you mistake,” said Lydiard. “I--I--certainly never have touched +upon the subject--never opened my lips to a human being about it; but +I am not quite so sure that it is not jealousy which keeps me backward +and depresses me.” + +“Indeed!” said Rushton; “jealous! What of somebody who visits at the +house?” + +“Yes,” said Sir Charles. + +“Do you mean Sir Baggs Waddilove?” said Rushton. + +“Psha--no.” + +“Perhaps that Colonel Scramshaw?” + +“Not a bit of it.” + +“The Count?” + +“What, Swagandstraddle!--No.” + +“Lord Tom Towzle?” + +“You burn,” said Sir Charles, “as the children say to the blinded +one;--not of him, Frank--what think you of his friend.” + +“What, that horrid, vulgar dog, Brag,” said Rushton, “his toady--his +spaniel?” + +“Upon my honour, yes,” said Sir Charles. + +“The deuce you are!” said Rushton; “that’s very odd.” + +“It is,” said Lydiard. “I confess I am almost ashamed of being ruffled +by such a fellow; but, somehow, Mrs. Dallington seems so much at her +ease with him, notwithstanding his vulgarity, his glaring ignorance, +and his unbounded impertinence, that, upon my honour, I cannot help +thinking----you know women are very odd creatures, and I----” + +“You surprise me, Lydiard,” said Rushton, “but not disagreeably. I have +thought,--only don’t mention it--that Blanche has a sort of,--eh--you +understand me--a partiality for him--I don’t know how it is; she +certainly looks at the monster, now and then.” + +“What,” interrupted Lydiard, “some more of her few unexpected lights, +eh?” + +“I cannot understand it,” said Rushton: “I suppose he entertains them +with his absurdities, and his nonsense, and even his vanity, and his +vulgarity. But I think we may both be pretty secure, that neither of +such women as your widow and my Blanche could entertain a serious +thought of a fellow of whom nobody knows anything except as Lord Tom +Towzle’s tiger, especially in a house into which Lord Tom himself finds +it particularly difficult to get the _entrée_.” + +“No,” said Lydiard, “one would not think there was much danger; and +yet--yet you _will_ allow it is very odd indeed that we should both +have been struck with the same notion?” + +“So it is,” replied Rushton. “However, as far as _I_ am concerned, I +am determined to fathom the affair to the bottom. I love Blanche better +than my life; but if I thought--” + +“Stop, stop, Rushton,” interrupted the worthy baronet. “What has gone +with your stern reproof of my scepticism? Here are _you_ who have been +just rallying me upon my doubts with regard to the loveliest of her +sex, now coming to fathom an affair to the bottom which implicates in +your mind the sincerity and single-heartedness of one of the purest, +gentlest Nora Creenas that ever walked with her eyes cast down upon the +earth.” + +“Hang the fellow!” said Rushton; “it is too ridiculous! Besides, he is +not often there. Yet, never mind--he may do good: the smallest wheel in +a great piece of machinery has its work to perform to keep all the rest +going. This stupid animal may serve to equalize our passions, and make +us see clearer; he will cool _me_ and warm _you_, and who knows but it +may turn out all for the best?” + +“Why,” said Lydiard, “the fact is pretty clear:--As we have not, even +in this age of liberality, arrived at so great a reform of the church +as to establish the toleration of bigamy, he can marry but one of the +ladies; and, as far as I am concerned, if my adorable widow has a taste +which would lead her to admit the pretensions of that miserable little +animal, I am quite sure it never could be diverted into a passion for +me: and so, Mr. Rushton, if he conquer, he is perfectly welcome to the +fruits of his triumph.” + +“Ah, that’s it!” said Rushton: “there are prudence, philosophy, wisdom, +and half a dozen other splendid qualities, combined! But as for _me_, +if he were to be smiled upon in earnest by Blanche, it would be the +last gleam of sunshine one of us should see: he never should live to +enjoy the happiness of which he had deprived me!” + +“Now, Rushton,” said Sir Charles, “how unjust, how inconsiderate that +is! If Blanche smile on him and not on you, it is a clear proof that +she prefers him. Why make her miserable by killing the little man? You +might as well shoot her poodle or wring the neck of her canary-bird.” + +How much farther this dialogue which was hereabouts interrupted, +might have been carried, it is not in my power to say; but sufficient +has been developed to the reader to show that the incomparable Jack +Brag, by dint of the equivocal introduction of his master Lord Tom +Towzle, had obtained footing at least in one respectable and agreeable +house. It is, as Sir Charles Lydiard says, a matter of impossibility +to ascertain the particular qualities or circumstances by which +women of station and talent, as well as their inferiors in rank and +intellect, are captivated. Certain it is, that after once Mr. Brag +had been admitted to Mrs. Dallington’s house, he was a visitor there +as frequently as he could contrive to manage it; and, as we have +seen, although his other avocations were numerous, he had contrived +to unsettle the minds of two most respectable gentlemen of totally +different characters and dispositions, both pursuing similar objects by +different roads. + +We must now recur to Mr. Brag himself, and his career in other places, +into which the bright eyes of the gay widow and her lovely sister +cannot be expected to penetrate. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +When Mr. John Brag left his respected mother, he hurried off to the +rendezvous of his sporting friends, whence they proceeded in a body to +mark out the line of country for the steeple-chase. In this operation +he exhibited, as he fancied, all the tactics of the most experienced +quartermaster-general. In endeavouring, however, to elucidate the +difficulties of a leap which, he thought essential to the effect of the +race, he came somewhat unexpectedly off his horse. A little dirt, and +a bruise or two out of sight, of which he gave no evidence, were all +the consequences of this performance; and having made every necessary +arrangement for the exhibition of the following day, he hastened to +a small public-house a little way removed from the high road, which +rejoiced in the sign of the “Duke of Marlborough,” in order to change +his clothes and prepare himself for a flying visit to the shop, to +which a promise made to his mother in the morning was carrying him in +the afternoon. + +When some of Brag’s associates in the field questioned him as to his +cause of hurry, he made his excuses in so confused a tone, that he +left, as he meant to do, an impression upon the minds of his country +cronies, that he was under an enslavement to the illustrious descendant +of the hero of Blenheim and Malplaquet, rather than to the landlord of +the house where the pictured warrior swang “high in air” before the +door. However, it was all “straight up, right down, and no mistake;” +and the pretender “cut ’cross the country” to his hostelry, at which +had been deposited his portmanteau “down per coach,” which contained +his clothes for the two coming days’ performances,--his pet scarlet +coat and white cords by way of a show, and if necessary a pink silk +jacket with yellow sleeves for the steeple-chase. + +When he arrived at the goal--the sign of the “Duke of Marlborough,” +he was surprised to find the only sitting-room of the “hotel” +occupied. A stranger, who had been driven into the house for +shelter from the “pitiless pelting” of a hail-storm, in which the +admirable tallow-chandler had been drenched, was sitting before the +fire--agreeable in any season in England, but particularly so in the +equivocal weather of a British spring--reading the County Press of the +preceding Saturday, redolent of tobacco, and stamped with the circular +impressions of sundry pewter-pot bottoms which had reposed upon its +columns. + +“I say, Stubbs,” said our hero, who was known to the landlord as ‘the +most sportingest gentleman as ever come down to them parts,’ “what’s +this? I ordered my dinner this morning”--(his luncheon with the Duke of +Marlborough,)--“and find the room engaged;--what’s this?” + +An attempt on the part of Stubbs to soothe the boiling rage of Brag, +by sundry qualifying expressions of regret, and a few “I dare says,” +and “The gentleman won’t be long,” and several such pacificatory +observations, was happily seconded by the occupant of the parlour +himself; who upon beholding the inflation of the little Cockney, whose +vulgar red and white face was illuminated by the fire which raged +within, rose from his seat and said, in the best possible humour, that +he feared he was an intruder, but that he had been driven in by stress +of weather; that he had ordered some luncheon, which he concluded was +nearly ready; and that if the gentleman would permit him to do so, he +should be happy to share the repast with him, which, as he seemed to be +himself wet and cold, would perhaps not be disagreeable to him. + +“Oh,” said Brag, “I’m not the chap to quarrel about trifles: only, I +certainly, when I sent my horses down here, did say I should come and +dine here; and I have been here often before, and I never was served so +till to-day. However, I’m much obliged by your civility, and haven’t +the least objection to join you, each of us in course paying, share and +share alike.” + +“Oh, as you please,” said the stranger, in whose eye there lurked a +laughing smile, and who seemed satisfied, by the little he had seen of +his new and important acquaintance, that he should find something like +amusement in the cultivation of a temporary friendship with him. + +“I’ll just step up-stairs,” said Brag, “and cast my skin, as I call it; +and by that time, Stubbs, the luncheon will be ready.” + +“In five minutes, sir,” said Stubbs. + +“I say,” said Brag as he went along the passage, “who is that chap in +the parlour?” + +“I haven’t a notion, sir,” said the landlord. “He came here in the +midst of that pelting hail-storm about half an hour ago, on a fine +strong horse which is now in the stable, and which seems to have had a +pretty sharpish run somehow; and he ordered a fire to be lighted and +some chops to be got ready, and said he would stop an hour or two.” + +“No servant?” said Brag. + +“No.” + +“Don’t carry bags?” asked Brag. + +“No,” replied Stubbs. + +“Seems genteel,” said the tallow-chandler; “no chance of anything +wrong?--plain drest man on a fine horse--eh, don’t you understand? +straight up, right down--eh, no mistake. No chance of highwaymen +now-a-days?” + +“Lor’, no, sir,” said Stubbs; “such a thought never entered my head. To +be sure, he looked at your two hunters in the stable, and asked Jem who +they belonged to.” + +“What did he say?” said Brag. + +“To one Squire Brag,” said Stubbs; “a gentleman from London.” + +“Right, quite right,” said Brag: “no occasion to tell everybody the +truth. And he admired them, did he?” + +“Indeed he did,” said Stubbs. + +“Oh, all right, no mistake,” said Brag, delighted to have unconsciously +impressed upon the mind of his “promiscuous acquaintance” the character +of his pretensions to consideration and his right of swagger. “I’ll +just go and run my eye over _his_ nag before I go into the parlour, and +then we shall be on a footing, eh?” + +Stubbs bowed; and Brag proceeded to change his clothes. + +While he was performing that operation, the ever-active landlord +added another knife and fork to the table already prepared for his +other visitor: of which opportunity the stranger availed himself to +inquire who the curious little gentleman in the green jacket and +white cords might be; and in answer to his question touching that +important subject, he was accurately informed by mine host, as far +as he knew;--that he was a gentleman of large fortune from the City, +he believed, who was in the habit of hunting with all the hounds in +the metropolitan counties: that he usually kept his horses there; +that he was the owner of the two which the gentleman had so much +admired; that he was a choice spirit, and mixed in very high company; +all of which information the strange gentleman seemed to receive +with considerable satisfaction--probably, as Stubbs the landlord +thought, because he should feel himself honoured and gratified by the +countenance and society of so distinguished an individual as Brag, and +because he inwardly rejoiced at having made a point of showing so much +courtesy and attention on his first arrival to a gentleman of such +respectability and importance. + +The stranger’s inquiries and the landlord’s elucidations had scarcely +ended, before the volatile Cockney made his re-appearance. + +“Come, Stubbs,” cried he, rubbing his hands as he entered the little +sanded parlour, “be alive, my fine fellow! up with the chops! no +nonsense--sharp’s the word and quick’s the motion, eh?--straight up, +right down, and no mistake.” + +“They will be ready in two minutes, sir,” said the landlord as he +quitted the apartment. + +“That’s the way I manage ’em,” said Brag; “none of your crawlers for +me. I dare say you have been waiting ever so long for your feed; they +don’t mind strangers--everything is habit, sir,--used to _me_--know +I won’t stand upon trifles. I pay ready money, and don’t stint--eh? +that’s the way I keep ’em all alive.--Are you from town to-day?” + +“No,” said the stranger; “I am on my road across the country. I rode +farther than I intended, and was caught in the last storm.” + +“Oh,” said Brag, beginning to exercise what he considered his tact in +ascertaining the calling of his companion; “you are not going straight +along?” + +“No,” replied his new friend, “merely taking a canter.” + +“Blowing away the cobwebs, as my friend Lord Tom Towzle says,” said +Brag, looking at himself in the miserable glass which surmounted the +mantel-shelf, adjusting his shirt-collar, and combing out his curls, +of which he was as vain as a peacock of his tail. “I never had harder +work: pitched right over my little hack’s head, trying to show my +friend Lord Wagly, the right-earnest way of taking a double fence. +To be sure, it was too much for the poor little thing, and it served +me right. I was spilt--up again in a minute--all, as quick as Queen +Elizabeth. I say, that’s a fine horse of yours in the stable----Stir +the fire--hem,--or lend me the poker----eh?--capital nag, I calculate, +as the Yankees say?” + +“Yes,” said the stranger, “a fine serviceable animal: I ride pretty +heavy, and require something strong to carry me. You have two clever +animals in the boxes here; I assure you I had been admiring them very +much before you arrived.” + +“Yes,” said Brag, “nice tits, I flatter myself: I never had two horses +that suited me better. I have--let me see--eight--no, nine--yes, +nine--much of a muchness; four in Leicestershire, two here, and +the rest in London--nursing a bit, that’s my way. I say sport’s +sport--never overwork kind animals--don’t break their hearts even +if you break their backs. So I keep enough to do it easy: for, as I +said to Towzle, what’s the use of plenty of money if you don’t spend +it?--eh! The devil take this fellow! _his_ chops are not ready, though +ours are--he! Did you ever hear that before,--deuced good, eh?--old, I +guess, and no mistake. I’ll just give him a reminder.” + +Saying which, Brag seized the bell-rope, and gave it so tremendous a +jerk, that down it came, bringing with it a cloud of dust, just at the +moment that the door opened, and presented to the view of the guests, +Stubbs, with the chops, and Rachel his daughter at his heels, bearing +a dish of potatoes, and a plate, whereon were deposited two vine leaves +of blue ware, filled, the one with gherkins green, the other with +walnuts brown. + +Rachel was about seventeen, pretty and arch, with a pair of +expressively lively black eyes. It was clear that Brag had seen them +before, and that Rachel was not altogether insensible of their power; +and while the assiduous Stubbs was regulating the plates and knives and +forks at their proper angles on the table, the Nimrod of Cockaigne was +slyly pressing the elbow--rather of the reddest--of the amiable Rachel, +as she stretched one hand forward towards her unsuspecting parent, in +the act of offering him the vegetables wherewith to deck the table. The +stranger saw the dexterous manœuvre of his new companion, but appeared +to be wholly unconscious of his insinuativeness. + +“That’s a pretty girl,” said Brag after the parent and child had left +the room,--“sly as a pussy cat. Dear me! the things one _does_ see in +this world! No matter where one goes, it is all the same! One has only +to look at a girl, or a woman older a deuced deal than that, down she +comes; I don’t know how it is, or how you find it, but, by Job,” (as +Brag always called Jove,) “it’s a difficult thing to keep clear of the +female sex; I suppose it’s something in one’s manner--eh,--don’t you +think so?--’pon my life I don’t know.” + +“Why,” said the stranger, “I am not in the habit of generalizing upon +such subjects: a woman worthy of being won is not so easily won.” + +“Oh! ah!” said Brag; “you mean tip-toppers, blue-stockings, nobs, and +all that kind of thing: I mean the sex taken what I call collectively. +What do you drink, eh? Ale, by Job! Here, here, just put your head out +of the door and call Stubbs; you are nearer than me: I wish I hadn’t +broken the bell. Call him,--or stay;--no, I’ll speak to him,--have up +_my_ tap--eh,--don’t you see?” + +The volubility and vanity of the Cockney amused as well as surprised +the stranger, who, upon Brag’s resuming his seat, endeavoured to +draw him back--which there was little difficulty in doing--to his +old subject, by telling him one of the innumerable _bons mots_ of the +celebrated Sophie Arnould, who, when a Brag of her day, in descanting +largely upon his success with a certain demoiselle of the rank and +standing of Rachel Stubbs, told her that the affair had made a great +noise in the neighbourhood, asked whether it were not occasioned by the +lady’s pattens. Brag did not see the application, and went on, as his +acquaintance with his companion grew, and his familiarity ripened, to +be extremely communicative, most especially upon his own successes in +the way of “Don-Juanism.” + +The _sederunt_ of the companions was considerably lengthened by +a return of bad weather. The rain and hail again poured down in +torrents; and Brag, who denounced wine in such a place, resolved upon +keeping out the cold with some hot mixture. The stranger, who was +also weather-bound, seemed not altogether disinclined to follow his +companion’s example; and they drew their chairs towards the fire, in +order to wait with patience for a brighter sky; which, as the spring +had set in with its accustomed severity, they were not soon certain of +seeing. + +“I am told,” said a lady of rank to the Persian Ambassador, who was +in this country so many years since, that, for the sake of my female +friends, I will not say how many,--“I am told, sir, that in _your_ +country they worship the sun.” “True, madam,” replied the Ambassador; +“and so they would in _yours_, if they ever saw him.” The hope of +catching a glimpse of him on the day of Brag’s adventure at the “Duke +of Marlborough” was but faint and remote: the storm pattered against +the casements of the humble apartment which he and his associate +occupied, and Jack was resolved to show that his spirits, however +mercurial, were not altogether dependant upon the weather. + +“Blessing, good temper,” said Brag,--“eh?--makes no difference to +me--life is not long enough to be sorry; clouds or sunshine, on I go, +smack, smooth ’cross the country, and no mistake.--As I was saying just +now, if I were to write my life and adventures, what a book it would +make! to be sure, one could not publish it;--compromise so many dear +delicious creatures--eh?” + +“But do you find,” said the stranger, “this facility of conquest +equally general in the higher classes, with whom, as you have already +said, you mix?” + +“Equal,” exclaimed Brag, emptying at the same moment his first glass of +Stubbs’s punch,--“the same everywhere. I grant you, the females of the +aristocracy are more closely watched; the eyes of the world are more +on them. But, dear me, when they are out of sight--when we are what I +call tiled,--all snug and comfortable, and no mistake,--I think the +tip-toppers are livelier than the mediums.” + +“And these females, as you call them,” said the stranger, “are they +most easily led away by person or manner, or accomplishments?” + +“A little of all,” said Jack, running the dumpy fingers of one of his +little fat hands through his curls, and pulling up his shirt-collar +with the other as usual;--“manner is everything--that’s it, sir; +genteel, but bordering upon the lively--eh, don’t you understand? +Now there’s Lady Fanny Smartly, as nice a horse-woman as you’ll see +in a summer’s day;--why, Lor--just see me lend her my arm to mount! +Her brother looks with wonder--the groom retires with awe--and then +she gives me a smile, as much as to say, ‘You are a sharp little +fellow, Jack!’ Well, then in the evening, there I find her all gentle +and languishing--you wouldn’t think she had ever seen a horse in her +life;--and then she laughs,--and I look, and then she laughs again; and +you can’t think how one gets on in that way--eh, and no mistake!” + +“Lady Fanny Smartly?” said the stranger; “I think I have occasionally +seen her riding in London.” + +“Very likely,” said Jack; “but that’s not the way to know her. Now +there’s Mrs. Dallington--a friend of mine, and her sister--they live +close up by Grosvenor Square;--I go there almost every day; they are +as opposite as light from dark,--one all sharp, you know--sort of +daisy-cutting tit--smack smooth, and no mistake;--the other, Miss +Blanche Englefield, all meek, modest, quiet; what you call retiring, +soft, gentle.” + +“A melting beauty?” said the stranger. + +“No,” said Jack, colouring; “not melting;--a--not that sort of +thing,--but--distant, and shy. Why, now with _me_, she is all free and +easy. There I see a couple of men day after day dancing attendance +upon these two women, and dying to marry them. In course I shouldn’t +take any advantage of my friends, as I told Lord Tom--a crack crony of +mine--Lord Tom Towzle. I never would--no, I scorn the action,--but it +is hard to refrain.” + +“Lord Tom Towzle,” said the stranger, “is a son of the Duke of +Ditchwater,--is he not?” + +“He is,” said Jack: “I see you know some of their names. Did you +ever see Lord Tom? I always call him Tommy for shortness;--he is +an excellent fellow in his way,--not over respectable in money +matters--but an uncommon good un to go ’cross a country.” + +“Have you seen much of his aunt, Lady Bloomville?” said the stranger. + +“Oh, the old toad!” said Jack; “a regular scarecrow,--she is what +people call a respectable body--eh! reads him lectures and all that--he +can’t bear her;--we have a great deal of fun there sometimes--we go and +what he calls roast her.” + +“I had always heard,” said the stranger, “that she was a remarkably +respectable amiable person. I hope you never found _her_ so complying +as you seem to have found the rest of your fashionable friends.” + +“I tell you what,” said Brag, putting his finger to his nose--“if _you_ +knew what _I_ know, you wouldn’t be surprised at anything.” + +“She has a brother, hasn’t she?” said the stranger. + +“What, Lady Bloomville?” asked Jack. + +“Yes,” replied the stranger. + +“Oh, yes, Lord Ilfracombe,” said Jack; “and a queer chap he is too.” + +“Is he much at Lady Bloomville’s?” asked the stranger. + +“More than we like,” replied Brag; “he is what I call a dull dog,--good +man in his way,--plain, and no show,--none of what I call gammon. I +say, I must have another jorum of this stuff--put your head out and +call, will you--eh! make yourself useful--nothing like sociability, and +no mistake--eh!” + +The stranger obeyed, and called the waiter; Rachel appeared, and Jack +ordered a replenishment of punch, in doing which, having previously +expressed his admiration of the waitress, he suited the action to the +word, and then resumed. + +“Old Ilfracombe is a queer one,” said he, “a bore,--won’t sit after +dinner. Now, as I say to Lord Tom, that is a fault of the young +ones;--no conversation,--no nothing now--up go the ladies, and then +comes ‘Will anybody have any more wine, or shall we have coffee?’ and +up we go after them,--no opportunity for what somebody calls the feast +of reason and the flow of soul, or, as I read it, ‘flow of bowl,’--eh!” + +“So then,” said the stranger, “this Lord Ilfracombe is what may be +called a wet blanket!--he doesn’t look like one of the Kill-joys.” + +“Do you think not?” said Jack. “I suppose you have only seen him by +chance, at some public dinner, or somewhere where smiles are always +ready. If you knew him as well as I and Lord Tom do, you would set him +down for as great a bore as ever lived.” + +“And is Lord Tom, as you call him,” said the stranger, “in love with +either of the ladies you have mentioned to me?” + +“Not a bit,” said Jack. “Tommy and I--or rather, I might say, I and +Tommy, take a different course,--butterflies, bees,--eh!--don’t +you see?--rove and sip--and no mistake. No, I think it would be an +injustice in either of us to marry. But, there are two very respectable +men dangling--you understand what I mean.” + +“Perfectly,” said the stranger. + +“But,” said Brag, “it is painful to see it--eh!--Lord bless +your heart--however--Oh! here is my second glass--put it down, +Rachel,--here--come round--this way,--don’t be frightened, the +gentleman won’t eat you.” + +Rachel did as she was bid, but it was quite clear by the expression of +her pretty countenance as she left the room, that she did not think +quite so much of Brag as Brag thought of himself. + +“If you,” said Brag, “had opportunities as I have of seeing the best +society,--what I call skimming the cream, you would be in the secret; +but without seeing it, as I said before, there’s no believing it--eh!” + +“I am sure you are right,” said the stranger. “I think Lord Ilfracombe +has a son, hasn’t he?” + +“To be sure he has,” said Brag, “Lord Dawlish,--and a nice chap he is +too; he married a Miss Linton, the daughter of a country gentleman in +my lord’s neighbourhood. I know all the facts from Lord Tommy. She +is like a doll in a toy-shop window--waxy and winky-eyed--eh! You +understand--money--the father sold the child to buy the title, and a +pretty swop too. Lord bless you! they live like cat and dog. I can’t +bear her--mawkish--eh! Don’t you take some more of this mixture?” + +“Not yet,” said the stranger. “And does Lord Dawlish mix much in your +sports?” + +“Why now,” said Jack, “before you carry this on too far, I _do_ think +you ought to tell me why you ask. I don’t think it fair, living with +these people as I do, what you call hand-in-glove, and all that, to +let out; you may, perhaps, have an interest in knowing particulars. +I am sure you won’t be offended, but I take it that you are in the +mercantile line, and what people in the city call travelling on your +own bottom--you want to know where credit may and where it mayn’t be +given--eh? I don’t think I ought to commit my friends, old cocky--eh! +all right and no mistake--don’t you think so?” + +“Certainly,” said the stranger; “I didn’t know that Lord Dawlish _was_ +a friend of yours.” + +“The whole clique,” said Brag, looking very cunning; “and I can tell +you this--they _know_ I am rich, eh!--all snug, smug, and no mistake.” + +“Well,” said the stranger, “I am much obliged for the mixture of +confidence in _me_, and the consideration of _them_, which regulates +your communications;--but I suppose old Ilfracombe himself is a steady +goer?” + +“Umph!” said Jack, “pretty well--six o’ one side and half-a-dozen +of the other--much of a muchness--you understand, eh!--all +outside--plating, as I call it.” + +Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Stubbs, who +announced that Mr. Brag’s groom had just arrived from London, on the +top of the coach, which had set him down at the corner of the cross +road. + +“Let him come in,” said Brag, with an air of the most exalted dignity. + +The lad made his appearance, dripping, like Niobe, all tears. + +“Well, what made you so late?” said Brag. + +“Couldn’t git down afore, sir,” said the lad. + +“Well,” said his master, “go get yourself something to eat, and see to +the horses.” + +“I wanted to say a word about the horses, sir,--please,” said the lad. + +“Well,” said Brag, “you may say what you have to say; you are not +afraid of that stranger, I suppose.” + +“No, sir,” said the boy, “I’m not afraid o’ anybody, but I didn’t know +I was to say what I had to say, out.” + +“Say,” said Jack, waving his half-emptied tumbler over his head--“‘Say +on,’ as the chap at the theātre says.” + +“Mr. Figgs,” said the boy, “wishes to know whether you want both them +’ere horses as is here any longer this week, or if one will do, as he +has an opportunity of letting one or both on ’em to gemmen as pays +ready money; and if so be you keeps ’em both, you’ll be pleased to send +up the stumpy by to-night’s post.” + +“Ha, ha, ha!” said Brag, his cheeks turning as white as chalk, +his hair seeming to uncurl, and his whole countenance assuming the +appearance of a detected pickpocket--“how good!--how deuced good, eh! +Ha, ha,--what! my own horses!” + +“Not your own horses, sir,” said the boy, “they are _his_ horses, you +know, sir, and--” + +“Hold your tongue, sir,” said Brag; “I think I ought to know whose +horses they are better than he;--get out,--go and look after the +nags--before you get anything to eat--and I will come out to you +presently.” + +Of all the curs unhung, there is none so awfully contemptible as a +drivelling braggart. The wretched cockney seemed to quail before his +associate, whom, as we know, he imagined to be either a rider to some +respectable house in the button line, or a small dealer travelling, +as he called it, “on his own bottom.” He watched the glance of the +eye of this man, whom he had before despised and bullied, to see what +impression the detection of his miserable assumptions had made upon +him; but the stranger, who had his own business to attend to, and who +seemed fully occupied by his own thoughts, evinced no alteration either +in look or manner when he heard his contemptible companion exposed +by the stable-keeper’s menial. Why he was not much affected by this +_denouement_, we may perhaps shortly discover. + +“What fools servants are!” said Jack, when he _could_ speak--stirring +up a bit of lemon-peel from the bottom of his glass, and keeping his +eyes steadily fixed upon the object and operation during the utterance +of his remark. + +What the stranger thought of masters, was not to be collected from +either his words or his looks. + +“Figgs is a fool too,” said Brag, when he had rallied; “I wonder what +_he_ means.” + +The stranger, who merely recollected the history of his companion’s +stud, all elaborately detailed, did not by any means exert himself to +elucidate the mysteries of the liveryman’s stables. He was perfectly +satisfied with the affair as it stood, and there an end. + +“I believe,” said Brag, breaking what appeared a most uncomfortable +silence, and which, as pretenders invariably do, he fancied arose from +a conviction in the other gentleman’s mind that he was a “humbug,”--“I +believe that these fellows try to worry one into buying, by such +tricks as these: however, I flatter myself I am pretty well known +about London, and if I have any interest with the Master of the horse, +not one of Figgs’s animals sets foot into the Royal stables,--there I +_have_ an influence.” + +The stranger merely looked, and finished his one glass of Stubbs’s +particular, to Brag’s two; which one he had been persuaded to imbibe +upon the very just principle of repelling external cold by internal +warmth. It was clear that the cockney had been hit hard by the +stupidity of his boy, as he called him--who, in fact, was not his; +and odd enough to say, however pleased he might have been to escape +anything like a cross-examination from his companion, he was rather +vexed than not, that the said companion did not appear to take +sufficient interest in his proceedings to inquire any farther into +particulars. + +“The weather does not seem to clear up,” said the stranger, walking +towards the window; “I am not quite sure what is best to be done.” + +“As for me,” said Brag, “I shall be a fixture for the night, if it +holds on so badly.” + +“I must get home by dinner-time,” said the stranger. + +“Oh!” said Brag, “then this is not your dinner.” + +“No,” said the stranger. “I believe in point of fact it _is_, but +nominally it is not; I have fifteen miles to ride before I get home. I +suppose one might on an emergency get a chaise here?” + +“Not here,” said Brag; “I am always obliged, when I want horses, to +send down to the George,--two miles from this;--but that makes no +difference, I’ll tell my boy to run down if you want them:--are you +going towards town?” + +“No,” said the stranger, and stranger he was in those parts, “my course +is _from_ London.” + +“Eh! oh!” said Brag, evidently desirous of finding out his associate’s +pursuits. “I shall cobble up here for the night, I think;--I dare say +Rachel will make my tea for me, and I shall be uncommon comfortable, +and no mistake. I like the--what do the French call it?--the ‘despipere +in poco,’ or something of that sort, as Lord Tommy says;--so here I +stop. I have nothing to do, no business, no call, no tie, except that +unhappy Mrs.--did I tell you her name?--yes I did,--Mrs. Dallington and +her sister Blanche. They must wait--can’t ride through the rain for +them, eh!” + +At this moment a remarkably neat, well appointed travelling carriage, +drawn by four bright bays, preceded by an outrider, and in the rumble +of which were two strapping servants, drove up to the door of the +small ostelry--the steeds all thorough bred, were foaming and champing +the bit, and the party within evidently in high spirits. The halt was +called just to wash out the mouths of the horses, which were, as it +appeared, making a long stage. + +“I say,” said Brag, “these are somebodies:--what nags!--did you ever +see such a turn out;--that’s what I call going it--straight up, right +down, and no mistake. Let’s just go out and have a look at ’em.” + +Brag led the way--the stranger implicitly followed; the moment he +exhibited his person by the side of the cockney, a shout of surprise +and delight echoed from the carriage. + +“So, here you are!” cried the youngest of the _parti carré_. “What +_have_ you been doing here?” + +“Doing!” said the stranger; “why you don’t expect a man to ride to an +archery meeting through a torrent!” + +“My dear love,” said a lady in the carriage, “are you quite sure you +have not got wet?” + +“Not the least,” said the stranger; “for I took the precaution of +halting here, and getting some luncheon in very agreeable society. But, +perhaps, you will let _me_ in turn inquire why you have taken this +road.” + +“Partly, I believe,” said a young man who turned out to be the +stranger’s son, “by mistake,--the weather was so desperate that the +whole affair was a _coup manqué_, and we were glad enough to scramble +away as well as we could; but, however, you will now come with _us_; +they say it is an ill wind that blows nobody good.” + +“You may rely upon my housing myself in the carriage,” said the +stranger, “even at the hazard of crowding you. Harrison, stay behind, +and bring home my horse in the course of the evening, and pay my bill +here; don’t hurry back, for I rode rather hard in coming.” + +The ladies seemed delighted at the acquisition which they had made +to their party “inside,” and the stranger, with his foot on the step +of the carriage, took off his hat and made a low bow to Brag, who +stood looking on in a state of amaze and wonderment arising from the +extraordinary fact, that anybody who really lived in the society of +which he was permitted to catch occasional glimpses, could seriously +sit down and enjoy mutton chops in a small alehouse, without disclosing +his rank or talking of his connexions. + +The carriage drove off,--splashed a little of the mud upon Brag’s +delicate nose, and left, according to the stranger’s directions, one +of the servants behind, who upon scanning the figure of the cockney +sportsman, turned away from him with an air of dignity which his master +had never assumed; and whose remarkably smart leathers and tops were +so much better “got up” than Brag’s ever were, (although when he wore +leathers he always devoted a certain portion of the morning to his own +personal care of them,) that the unhappy creature cowered before the +menial of the man, whom because he was plainly dressed, and assumed +nothing in his manner, he had treated as if he were an inferior. + +“I say, sir,” said Brag to the man as he was walking towards the +stable, “may I ask who the gentleman is, who stepped into that +carriage, and has left you to take home his horse?” + +“That’s _my_ lord,” said Harrison, so was the man named. + +“And what lord may he be?” said Brag. + +“Don’t you know _my_ lord, sir?” said Harrison; “I thought everybody +knew him,--Lord Ilfracombe. That’s my Lady, and his son Lord Dawlish, +and Lady Dawlish, and Lady Bloomville, in the carriage.” + +“Indeed! five insides!” said Brag: “and who was the young lady with the +veil?” + +“Lady Fanny Smartly,” said the man, and passed on to look after his +lord’s horse. + +Jack stood as if petrified: he felt his ears tingle, his knees +shake,--the mingled impudence and folly of his conduct came full upon +him, like a double-headed shot. Here were all his intimate friends whom +he had never seen before, conjured up, as it were, to ruin him in the +estimation of the head of the family, whom he had denounced to himself +as a queer one, a bore, a kill-joy, and a wet blanket. He had not the +power to stir, nor would he have moved from the place where he stood, +with his eyes swimming and his head whirling, if the stable-boy from +Figgs’s had not just begged him to make up his mind as to the horse he +would keep. + +Jack, for a minute roused to a sense of his absurdity, gave his answer, +and retired to the house; where having in due time recovered the +spirits or callousness which generally upheld him, he rang for some +tea,--a beverage in which the subjects of Cockaigne delight, and which +was in the course of half-an-hour brought him by a dirty red-headed +boy; Rachel Stubbs having gone over to her aunt’s, on purpose to get +out of the way of his nasty impertinences. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Brag’s feelings at the period of this announcement were by no means +of the most agreeable character. It was quite certain that the scene +which had just been enacted by the noble lord and himself would furnish +materials for a _historiette_ in his lordship’s circle, whence it +would infallibly descend to the sphere of his own actions, as fashions +gradually sink from the duchess to the dowdy, until, as extremes meet, +they become extinct from their universality. + +Then, for the Lothario to be slighted--avoided--cut by the waiting-girl +of a small inn, who ought to have been prouder than a peacock at +having attracted his eyes: altogether Jack was ill at ease, and fell +to ruminating upon his present not brilliant prospects, until he fell +asleep. + +Not so his mother. She had pondered the words her son had spoken: she +felt that his recommendation to take unto herself a second husband, +although she had passed several years of widowhood, was not altogether +unreasonable, since the career which he appeared determined to pursue, +let it terminate as it might, was not very likely to end in a steady +settle-down to business, and since, as everybody allows, a “lone woman” +in trade is liable to be imposed upon. + +It is odd enough, that an idea once formed in a mind where it never had +place before, becomes the leading subject of thought and consideration. +Mrs. Brag had never dreamt of a second marriage; and it is but fair +to say, that none of her male, middle-aged, marrying acquaintance had +ever, by word or deed, led her to moot the question. It was reserved +for her son to fire the train; and from the moment it was ignited, Mrs. +Brag became a different woman. She bestowed extra care upon her frill +and her front; had the one plaited, and the other curled, with peculiar +pains; took to the wearing of coloured ribands; looked into the shop +whenever she heard the sound of voices; and, in short, gave herself +more airs than she had ever thought of assuming for many years before. + +Never, however, had she been driven into what may be called a +resolution upon the subject, until the morning upon which this little +history opens. Johnny had often suggested the measure, and she had at +first repelled the idea, out of respect to the departed Mr. B.; at +last, she listened more complacently; then, as I have just said, she +occupied herself in putting the scheme in execution practically; and +after that morning, finding that all solicitations to John in regard of +steadiness must prove fruitless, she came to a resolution of obliging +her darling boy, of whom she might justly have said-- + + “Johnny, with all thy faults, I love thee still,” + +and of making herself more comfortable at home. How to compass the +affair then became her only consideration; for the reader ought to +know, that although to the very last she maintained her profession of +disinclination for the step, she had, in fact, determined upon taking +it. The way she went to work will hereafter be developed. + +The volatile John, himself, arose on the morning of his intended +steeple-chase, little refreshed from the sort of feverish night’s rest +he had enjoyed--if enjoyment it might be called. He could not rally +from the effects of his self-exposure, which affected him the more +strongly, as he began to anticipate (since it was evident that they +were staying somewhere in the neighbourhood) the appearance of some of +the branches of the noble family of Ilfracombe to witness what men of +desperate expedients consider “fine sport.” What should he do if this +very Lord Dawlish were to join the field, attended perhaps by Lady +Fanny Smartly, or the earl himself? Every word that he had uttered +the previous night would, of course, be repeated; and if not actually +kicked or horse-whipped by the indignant viscount, in revenge for the +description he had given of his father and his family, even Lord Tom +Towzle himself, who was his main-stay, might join in the general +execration of the pretender; the more especially as Lord Tom had at +various times borrowed sundry sums of Brag’s “loose cash,” and, having +been of late refused unlimited access to his purse, might perhaps not +be particularly sorry to find a cause for breaking off his acquaintance +with him. + +The day however came, and Brag having breakfasted, began to rally; and +resolving to put the best face upon the affair, he mounted the horse he +kept, and proceeded to the scene of action, casting his eyes, it must +be admitted, in every direction, in dread of encountering his friend +of the preceding afternoon. Nothing of the sort, however, occurred to +annihilate him; and when he reached the inn at which the sportsmen +were to rendezvous, and found Lord Tom and his associates just the +same as usual,--all gay, lively, and warm in their reception,--he felt +reassured, and in less than an hour had forgotten, or resolved not to +remember, anything about his self-exposure to the noble lord. + +The steeple-chase took place according to notice; and at its +conclusion Lord Tom, assisted by Brag, furnished a report of it for the +“Sporting Intelligence” of the London papers, in the following words:-- + + “This event came off yesterday to the entire gratification of the + numerous company who were present. + + “The course had been marked out on the previous day by Lord Wagley, + Lord Thomas Towzle, and Mr. Brag, who judiciously selected a stiff + line of country, including thirty-four leaps and three brooks, + best calculated to try the mettle of both horses and riders. The + winning-post was between two flags placed in a field belonging to Mr. + Brag, who was also appointed umpire. Five horses started-- + + “Mr. Tagrag’s ‘Washball’ _Owner._ + Capt. Snobb’s ‘Beggarboy’ _Owner._ + Sir Frederick Flapper’s ‘Stumpy’ _Mr. Martingale._ + Mr. Smith’s ‘Tommy’ _Owner._ + Colonel Ball’s ‘Blunderbuss’ _Mr. Flint._ + + “They all went off at a slashing pace. ‘Tommy’ refused the second + leap, and threw his rider over his head, and, falling backwards over + the bank, broke his back, and died in a few minutes. ‘Washball’ was + also unlucky in trying to jump a brook, which her rider did not know + was fordable twenty yards lower down: she slipped her shoulder, and + was obliged to be shot immediately after the race. We are sorry to + add, that Mr. Tagrag, who rode her, unfortunately pitched upon the + back of his neck, and severely injured his spine. He lies at the + ‘Full Moon’ at Wigglesford, without hopes of recovery. + + “After these little mishaps, the play was made entirely by + ‘Beggarboy’ and ‘Stumpy,’ ‘Blunderbuss’ having knocked up after the + first two miles and a half, and being run to a dead stand in the + middle of a ploughed field, whence neither flogging nor spurring + could move him: in fact, the shine was taken out of him, and it + became a clear case of ‘no go.’ + + “‘Beggarboy’ and ‘Stumpy’ had had enough of it; and when they reached + the last fence, entered the winning-field nearly neck-and-neck. + ‘Stumpy’ tumbled into the ditch, and Captain Snobbs worked + ‘Beggarboy’ through the flags in very fine style. ‘Stumpy’ was + considerably damaged by the last fall, which is a pity, inasmuch as + he is about one of the best horses in this part of the country. + + “The race was for ten sovereigns each, and was run in an incredibly + short space of time. The numerous company assembled were highly + delighted with the spirit-stirring sport, and, after the chase, + proceeded to a field at the back of the ‘Full Moon,’ to see the ties + shot off of the great pigeon match between Mr. Slack and Mr. Nibbs, + for a silver jug and cover. + + “The name of Nibbs in itself was sufficient to create an unusual + interest, and the ground was crowded with amateurs. The terms were, + twenty-one yards at twenty-one birds--charge limited to two ounces. + Betting, three to one the winner killed eighteen--five to four on + Nibbs. They both went in, sure of doing the trick; but after Slack + and Nibbs had each killed twelve birds, Nibbs had it all his own way, + and won the jug by five birds, killing nineteen to Slack’s fourteen; + thus winning the by-bets of three to one. Several other matches came + off, and about a hundred and fifty pigeons were knocked over. + + “Nothing could exceed the gaiety of the scene. The weather was + remarkably fine, and a proportion of the beauties who had honoured + the race with their presence, were witnesses of the cheering sport. + An old woman standing just outside the enclosure, received a whole + charge of shot in her face, which is likely to cost her the sight of + one eye at least; and a silly boy, who imprudently attempted to knock + down one of the winged birds which was falling out of bounds, was + badly wounded in the chest and throat. He was immediately attended + to by the surgeon of the place, who extracted thirty-six shots from + different parts of his person, and he was then forwarded in an easy + cart to the county hospital. We hope these accidents will act as + cautions to other equally inconsiderate individuals. + + “At the conclusion of the sports an admirable cold collation was + served up at the ‘Full Moon,’ in Bunks’s best style. The evening + passed off in the most delightfully convivial manner, and + arrangements were made for a renewal of the exhilarating diversion of + the day, on Thursday next, when a still more numerous assemblage is + anticipated.” + +This animated description, as a matter of course, figured in the +principal journals of the following morning, Brag having succeeded +in the interpolation of three or four words, conveying to himself a +field, and, by implication, a much more extensive estate, in a part +of the country where he did not possess even so much as called him +master at his “little place in Surrey.” The only drawback to his +happiness, however, upon this occasion, was a visit, three days after +the appearance of the intelligence, from the farmer to whom the field +actually did belong, who gave him to understand that he had directed +his attorney to prosecute the trespassers, who without his permission +had ploughed up his land at a season when it did not require tillage; +and having ascertained by the newspapers that the whole arrangements +had devolved upon Mr. Brag, the attorney thought it most advisable to +pounce upon _him_ in the first instance. + +This visit, and the intelligence his visitor conveyed to him, were +anything but agreeable to the little man, whose feelings upon the +matter were in no degree tranquillized by the conviction that his +difficulties and responsibility were fastened upon him, because he +could not refrain from the indulgence of his besetting propensity, in +making himself not only the hero of the affair, but the owner of the +ground over which it had been decided. + +The next race, however, which Mr. Brag was destined to run, was away +from the lawyer, and accordingly, with prudence, which in animals +unclothed, we designate instinct, but which in cases like that of +Johnny we by courtesy call reason, our hero quitted his head quarters +at the Duke’s Head, and proceeded to town per stage-coach; the second +message from Mr. Figgs, with regard to the horses, having been +accompanied with a peremptory demand that they might both be sent back. + +Brag returned to town considerably damaged, and however bold he might +be in assuming consequence, and claiming friendships, never did human +being more clearly evince by his personal appearance the workings +of what served him for mind, than he; a blow like that which he had +just received from the farmer’s announcement completely upset him, +and in five minutes the sprightly, pert, impudent-looking wagling was +metamorphosed into a pale, downcast, miserable victim; and in a plight +thus indicative of defeat, he reached the metropolis, quite undecided +how to dispose of himself for the afternoon. + +While he is in this state of suspense let us look for one moment at +those over whose destinies he almost unconsciously possessed a most +extraordinary influence. Sir Charles Lydiard, whose sensitiveness had +once been disturbed, and whose shyness had been excited by Rushton’s +observations upon the manner in which Brag was received at Mrs. +Dallington’s, could not get rid of the impression which he had at first +so hesitatingly received. None who have not felt jealousy--and, since +there never can be love without it, who has not?--can imagine the +pains which a patient once infected with the disease, the jaundice of +the mind, incessantly takes to keep up its virulence. It so happened, +that Sir Charles had never seen Brag since his conversation with +Rushton, and therefore had no opportunity of watching the “telegraph” +of which they had upon that occasion spoken; but upon a reference to +all that _had_ passed, he managed to combine a thousand “trifles light +as air,” an infinity of nothings, the consideration of which produced +an increased exhibition of coldness and reserve during his next two or +three calls at the widow’s. + +Mrs. Dallington saw this accession of frigidity, and without exactly +hitting upon its true cause, did certainly “telegraph” Blanche into +an observance of it. This new glance gave new grounds for doubts and +apprehensions, and the worthy baronet passed four miserable hours in +the boudoir of the woman he best loved in the world, if he had but +known it, devoutly wishing to make his escape, but fearing to move lest +an _éclaircissement_ should take place. + +Sir Charles felt more embarrassed from the fact that he had _not_ seen +his aversion during his last one or two visits; and because he was +extremely anxious to know the cause of an absence on his part longer +than usual; and because, above all, he could not induce himself to +make the smallest inquiry after him. Other men called, joined in the +conversation, and relieved Sir Charles from the restraint under which +the dread of a serious explanation kept him whenever the temporary +absence of Blanche reduced the circle to a _tête-à-tête_; but the +appearance of none of those worried or annoyed him. Mrs. Dallington’s +manner, kind to all, was in no degree particular to any one of them; +but certainly, now that Rushton had concurred with him in his views +upon the subject, he _did_ think that Brag was very differently +treated by both ladies. Still, he could not descend to touch upon the +topic; and after a feverish sitting on the third morning after Brag’s +departure, Sir Charles left the widow’s to dress for dinner, pleading +an engagement which he had not, for declining an invitation from her +and her sister to dine with them, which he would have been, if he +could have commanded his feelings, too happy to accept. + +Rushton, who had been there, but was also absent in the evening, became +more actively employed in Brag’s business than his cold and calculating +colleague. In passing Grosvenor Street he encountered Brag proceeding +to visit his door-plate and inquire for letters, just arrived from the +Duke of Marlborough, having been let out of the coach (in the inside +of which he travelled to avoid the farmer’s lawyer) at the corner of +a back street in the Edgeware Road, so as not to be detected in his +descent; by which ingenious device, and the exhibition of a whip in his +hand and a pair of spurs on his heels, the pretender let it be inferred +that he had ridden up to town upon one of the nine horses, which did +not belong to him. + +Rushton welcomed his _friend_ to London; and anxious to ascertain, +if he could, whether he proposed making an evening visit to Mrs. +Dallington’s, joined him in his walk down the street. + +“Just returned?” said Rushton. + +“This minute dismounted,” said Brag; “capital sport;--never +better!--all smack smooth, and no mistake. Killed two horses outright, +and one man, I fancy; however, he was well picked up, and the doctor +has got him in charge.” + +“Much company?” said Rushton. + +“Lots of people,” answered Brag, who, unable to repress that which was +certainly true, however dangerous the allusion to the family might be +elsewhere; “I myself did not stay at Wigglesford, I had rooms at the +inn where my horses stand. All quiet, snug; no nonsense;--civil people; +good landlord; pretty daughter, eh!--you understand--no mistake!” + +“Were you alone, then?” said Rushton. + +“Not altogether,” said Brag; “old Ilfracombe dined with me. He was +going to an archery-meeting to join his family. Weather turned out bad; +took part of my little dinner;--humble fare--mere soup, fish, cutlet +and capon. The rest of the party joined us after dinner. Dawlish +and his wife, and Lady Sarah Smartly--they did not get out of the +carriage--so I packed him off, and returned to finish my claret, and +wind up the evening in _my_ way, eh?” + +“Are you going to the widow’s this evening?” said Rushton. + +“Not certain,” said Brag: “I’m rather tired, and more than half +engaged. How is Sir Charles? Cold chap, that, eh? Don’t you think so?” + +“Why,” said Rushton, “a trifle upsets him. He is the most +delicate-minded man I ever met with: an expression, a word, a look +affects him in a way one could scarcely imagine.” + +“Proud, eh?” said Brag. “Distant, eh?” + +“No,” replied Rushton. “There is a coldness in his manner, I admit; +and those who do not know him may fancy this proceeds from _hauteur_; +but the fact is, that however much he may warm in the course of the +evening, he falls back to his original state of chilliness the next +morning, and requires a new process to _degêler_ him. He is not +therefore popular, but, in truth, his apparent coldness has its origin +in diffidence and a distrust of himself.” + +“Oh! that’s diffidence, is it?” said Brag. “I can’t say I quite +understand _that_: I thought it was pride--but for _that_, in course I +don’t care one farthing, and no mistake.” + +It all at once struck Rushton (Sir Charles having naturally, although +unexpectedly, become the subject of their conversation) that the +present would be a favourable opportunity of sounding (the water not +being very deep) the views and intentions of his communicative friend. + +“Why,” said he, “to tell you the truth, Brag, I do not think _you_ a +fair judge of Sir Charles. I have my quarrels with him upon different +shades of feeling; but you--_you_ are totally different.” + +“I don’t see that,” said Brag. “It’s all one to me, you know. I don’t +care a fig, as I say to Lord Tom: take me as I am, eh!--all right up, +straight down, no mistake. I quite agree with you in differing with +_him_; but I don’t see how _my_ case differs from _yours_.” + +“Ah!” said Rushton, “there it is: it is in that difference all the +difference lies.” + +“How d’ye mean?” said Brag. + +“He is afraid of you,” replied his companion. + +“Afraid of _me_!” said Brag, pulling up his shirt collar, “that’s too +good.” + +“You are too civil by half to the widow,” said Rushton. + +“Me!” + +“Yes,” said Rushton, “and what is even more to the purpose, he thinks +she is too civil by half to you.” + +“Upon your honour!” said Brag, in an ecstasy of delight--“afraid of +_me_! Come, come--eh!--that’s too good!” + +“Not a bit too good,” said Rushton. “I tell you what it is--I’ll be +candid with you--I am just as much afraid of you myself.” + +“You, Rushton!” said Brag. + +“Yes, more than Sir Charles is,” replied Rushton. “Recollect +now--remember--think how you go on with Blanch Englefield--a being all +shyness and reserve with everybody else, is with _you_, animated and +evidently interested in your conversation.” + +“You don’t mean that _you_ are afraid of _me_, too,” said Brag, fully +convinced of the entire seriousness of the conversation, which after +all contained more of real apprehension than Rushton would have +willingly had him know. “I certainly have a way, eh!--I don’t know +what it is--it cannot be person--manner, I suppose. I am always ready +to talk, eh! The tongue is the very deuce in a sharp fellow’s head--a +little repartee, and all that, eh!--small-talk, and a good deal of +it--that’s it.” + +“Clearly,” said Rushton. + +“The women like little parties,” said Brag--“fêtes--water +excursions--_dejeuners_, and all that. Then they get so good-humoured; +and the champagne--and the return--and the moonlight--and the music, +and all _that_.” + +“You have not yet opened your battery in that line,” said Rushton. + +“Waiting for weather,” said Brag. “I’ll show you the way to do that +sort of thing as soon as summer is well in, eh!--and then, I think, you +_will_ have the heart-ache.” + +“Are you, then, so general a lover?” said Rushton. “Will neither +content your love of conquest? Must you win both?” + +“Oh! come,” said Brag, putting his finger to his nose, and winking, +“you are playing your tricks--what do _they_ care for _me_?” + +“That remains to be seen,” said Rushton. “My firm belief is, that you +may obtain the hand of either of them; and my opinion, moreover, is, +that if you have not serious intentions that way, as far as one of them +is concerned, you do an injustice to both, by acting towards them as +you do.” + +“Upon your life!” said Jack--“you are serious?” + +“Perfectly,” said Rushton; “however, this is entirely between +ourselves: and whatever step you take, let me just mention, that the +widow is much the more lively companion of the two, and has rather the +better fortune; so turn your basilisk eyes towards her, and leave +the poor silent, sighing Blanche for me. Adieu! Here we are at your +door--you are at home. Do me the favour to remember what I have said, +and as you are great be merciful.” + +Saying which, Rushton quitted his friend, who was completely overset +by the announcement of the opinion he had just heard delivered. It +took very little to convince him of his power over what he called +the “female sex,” and he had certainly for some time felt very much +inclined to coincide with Rushton in his views upon this particular +point. But then came the question--Which of the prizes should he +take?--which of the lovers should he immolate? Lydiard, he was assured, +was too cold and odd to charm the widow, and Rushton too violent and +jealous to be agreeable as a husband to Blanche. The notion once put +into his head, operated there like that with which he had a short time +before possessed his respectable mother on a similar subject, and all +that now remained for him to do was to make up his mind for a decision. +That he _did_ decide, the reader is destined soon to see; how, for the +present, must remain a secret. + +There certainly is one part of the affair which did not make itself +evident to him. Blinded by his vanity, he did not perceive that the +whole object Rushton had in view in acknowledging his own fears, +which he really fancied had some foundation, and in encouraging his +pretensions, was the expulsion of the little man altogether; for +although he had succeeded in awakening Sir Charles’s suspicions, and +Sir Charles had been equally fortunate in arousing _his_, and that he +had moreover discovered, by Brag’s manner and admission, that the widow +was, at least of the two, the present object of his admiration, he felt +perfectly satisfied that he would receive his _congée_ the very hour in +which he made a formal declaration, and thus, without appearing in the +business, he should be relieved from all farther apprehensions from his +presence, while the affair of his expulsion would, in fact, be that of +Lydiard and the widow. + +Brag, however, was about to be entangled in another little business, +which promised to interfere with the immediate execution of his +plan. He had resolved upon repairing to his “little place in Surrey,” +in order to look after certain affairs which were essential to the +production of the means for “carrying on the war,” and afterwards +proposed, at least when it should be sufficiently dark for the +purpose--to visit his mother, who, wisely enough, took care of the shop +as far as her abilities would permit her to watch one or two clerks and +shopmen, who undoubtedly, seeing that she was a “lone woman,” did every +day that, of which, in her own phrase, she was so much afraid “put upon +her;” which phrase, rendered into plain English, means, cheat her out +of her property whenever they were able. + +As our story expands, it may be necessary here to observe, that Mrs. +Brag had a daughter, the sister of John, who had never been a favourite +with her father. People said her temper was bad: some people said one +thing, and other people, as they will do, said other things: certain it +is, that home was no home for her. And after a sort of half-and-half +education at a suburban boarding-school, where she learned astronomy, +the mathematics, netting, knitting, knotting, the use of the globes, +dancing, geometry, drawing, embroidery, rug-working, purse-making, +flower-painting, botany, singing, geology, plain needle-work, natural +history, stencilling, Italian, French, Spanish, and German, the harp, +guitar, piano-forte, tambourine, and triangle, together with many other +sciences and accomplishments, “too numerous for the brief space of an +advertisement,” she early in life married hastily, and clandestinely, +a gentleman in the army of the name of Brown. His military duties had +since called him to India, where his regiment had now been for several +years. Of him or his sister, Jack seldom spoke, and, when he did, +coldly referred to her husband as the major. Any little uneasiness +which her father had evinced about the marriage at the period at which +it occurred, had been decently buried in oblivion by the fond mother +and her son, who, whatever other feelings might have prompted him to +this acquiescence in the affair, it could not be doubted was in a +considerable degree acted upon by a desire to say nothing whatever +about it. + +There was, however, a person for whom, in earlier life, and before the +doting fondness of his sire had spoiled him, he did feel as deep an +interest as such a mind as his was capable of--this was no other than +the major’s sister, Miss Brown--Anne christened, but called familiarly +in those times Nancy Brown. It does not sound romantic by way of a +name, but what _is_ in a name? + +At the time of Brag’s acquaintance with her, she was a lovely girl just +eighteen, fair as the lily and fresh as the rose. Her mother was an +humble personage, no better, let it be understood, than a dress-maker, +to whom this daughter was assistant; for, lest we should ourselves fall +into the errors of which Brag was guilty, it may be as well to observe, +that the military functionary with whom Kitty became enamoured, and +who had the honour of leading her to the Hymeneal altar without her +father’s consent, derived his rank of major from Brag himself; in +giving him which brevet he felt himself probably justified, inasmuch +as it was derived from a mere abbreviation of his real title. Brown was +serjeant-major in the regiment to which he belonged; but the omission +of one half of his official denomination was adopted very early by +Jack, with, it must be confessed, the full acquiescence of his father, +who never could think of the misbehaviour of Kitty in making such a +match, with common patience. + +When his father died, Johnny, as will be seen hereafter, became so fine +a gentleman, that he never paid the least further attention either to +Nancy Brown or the promises he had so earnestly made her; judge, then, +the surprise and mortification which overwhelmed the vain and foolish +creature when his mother, after the usual greetings upon his arrival at +home, placed in his hands a letter from his poor suffering victim. + +To describe the face or the feelings of Brag when this appeal from +his once dear Anne was handed to him by his respected parent, (who +was not entirely aware of the real state of the case, but believed +the communication, in all probability, to have some reference to +her daughter, whom she in her heart had, with a mother’s feelings, +forgiven,) would be impossible. To come from a question of supplanting +Sir Charles Lydiard in the good graces of Mrs. Dallington, to a letter +from Nancy Brown of Walworth, was indeed a sinking in the sublime. He +turned pale, as usual; then flushed; then his lips quivered, and his +eyes opened; and then, without saying one syllable, he thrust the paper +unopened into his pocket, where it shall remain until a new chapter +gives us space for its perusal. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The letter which Jack, having hastily glanced at the superscription, +thrust out of sight, follows. + + “Walworth, Tuesday. + + “DEAR JOHN, + + “I hope you will not be angry with me for writing to-day. You + remember what day it is? I think I need not remind you that it is + your poor Anne’s birthday. For three or four years after Katharine’s + marriage with George, and their departure for the Indies, you used to + write to _me_ on this day, but you afterwards left off doing so; and + I should not perhaps have broken in upon you now if the anniversary + had been as bright and as cheering as it once used to be. No, my dear + John, ‘hope deferred maketh the heart sick;’ and although I have by + this time learned to give up all expectation of your fulfilling + your promises made to me before your father’s death, I neither have + forgotten my affection for _you_, nor mean to upbraid you with your + forgetfulness of _me_. + + “When we were so much together, and when you said you could be happy + with nobody else, and told me of your dread of your father’s anger, + which he had indeed shown by never seeing poor Katharine after her + marriage with my brother George, you led me to believe that the old + gentleman’s objections were the only obstacles in the way of our + marriage. I lived on--not in hopes of his death, for I could not be + so wicked as to hope for that--but I lived on, certain that, when it + should please Providence to take him, you would fulfil your promise + and redeem your pledge. He died, John, but you came not to me, wrote + not to me. Day after day I watched; listened to every knock at the + door, fancying it might be you; and every time I saw the postman + coming towards our lodging, my heart beat because I thought he might + bring me a letter from you. + + “A year passed away, and then, as you know, I wrote to you, rather + because I had heard from George and your sister, and wished you to + have news of them, which I knew you could not otherwise get, than to + worry you with my own importunities. You answered _that_ letter, but + you came not yourself, neither did the letter which you wrote contain + one kind word, or one allusion to other days, now past and gone. Yet + I complained not. I heard of you in gay parties and gay places; I + sighed to think how far we were parted, and perhaps I cried, John: + but you were happy and prosperous, and doing well in the world; and I + could only blame myself for having, when a girl, been so foolish as + to fancy that you cared for me enough to make me your wife. + + “Six years and two months this very day was the first time we met, + and God knows, although I have felt sorrow and sadness enough since, + it seems to me as if it were but yesterday. It was to oblige and + serve your sister Katharine, who was my friend, that I walked out + with her, when she used to meet George. I did not see any harm in + their courtship: I thought well of my brother; I knew he was kind and + good; his officers gave him the highest character for steadiness, + activity, honour, and integrity; he loved _her_, and she loved _him_. + I ought, perhaps, to have known, that he was not what is called a + suitable match for Katharine; but girls of seventeen, especially + upon such matters, do not always calculate. I am sure _I_ did not, + or I would not have helped her to take a step which was to make her + parents so angry. + + “It was the same blindness in my own case that permitted me to listen + to your professions. I am not ashamed to own, John, that I loved you + fondly; nor am I ashamed to tell you, although perhaps you will not + believe me, that the impressions made _then_ remain as strong as + ever. I have not seen you here for more now than three years. Perhaps + it is for the best. I _did_ see you once, now about four months + since, riding with another gentleman; it was in the Kent Road. I + thought you saw _me_, but I am sure I must have been mistaken. + + “What I now write about, cuts me to the soul! _My_ fate is sealed! + and never shall a murmur of mine for myself cause you a moment’s + uneasiness. The folly was mine: I alone will suffer!--But there _is_ + another to whom--I scarce can hold my pen to write the words--to + whom, by the strongest ties of nature, and the sacred word of God, I + am bound. I could not beg of a stranger; my heart would burst before + I could confess my wretchedness;--to _you_, John, I _can_ speak. My + poor mother is, I fear, dying. She has been confined to her bed for + several days, and I have nobody to watch over her but myself. Her + illness has prevented her working, and my constant attendance upon + her, has hindered me from doing anything myself. Do not be angry with + me, John; what I ask, is not for myself. She shall bless you for your + care of her, and be grateful for any little aid you may afford her. + When she recovers, she and I will struggle to repay you. + + “If you required any proof of my unshaken regard, you might find it + in this request. As I have told you, time and reflection have taught + me the folly of my ever considering you more than a friend,--it is + in the character of a dear friend that I ask this favour for the best + of parents. + + “I have put the address to this letter, which is the same as the + one which was to my last; but I thought, perhaps, you might have + destroyed it and forgotten the direction. We have not heard from + George for more than two years, which makes my poor mother very sad; + but we have been told that his regiment is coming home. You who are + so much in the world could find out in a minute, I know: even if you + did not care about George, you must be anxious to hear of Katharine, + whom you fondly loved, and who I know loved you with equal affection. + + “I will not take up more of your time. Let me have one line, to say + you have received this. I shall count the minutes till I get your + answer, which may at all events assure me that you are not angry + with me. God bless you, John--dear John! and assure yourself of the + affectionate friendship of + + “Yours, + ANNE BROWN. + + “You will see by the seal of this, how your present to me was valued, + and how it has been treasured. Adieu.” + +This was the letter which Mr. John Brag thrust into his coat pocket +in his mother’s presence, and which in five minutes afterwards was +as hastily withdrawn from it and thrown into the fire unopened and +unread. “John,” as poor Anne called him, knew the writing, and with +the low cunning of a vulgar mind, fancied he could justly anticipate +the contents of an appeal from an amiable woman whom he had deluded +and betrayed, leaving her no consolation in her desertion but that +which she could not fail to derive from the support of religion and the +consciousness of her own unspotted virtue. + +Yes, Anne, the humble unpretending Anne, was still the gentle, modest +creature he had found her. Her mind was, perhaps, not so very highly +cultivated as others in the world, nor were her accomplishments so +numerous, but she was a woman; and kindness, duty, devotion, and +disinterestedness were blended in the composition of her character. +Mr. John Brag would probably have described her in different terms, +had he ever permitted himself to speak of her, and perhaps would have +affected to pity the “poor creature,” while he laughed at her fondness +and credulity. Mr. John Brag was a great talker, and everybody knows +what that is. The nature and extent of his feelings and regard for the +once loved of his earlier days may easily be ascertained, by the way in +which he treated her appeal. He stood and looked at the flames as they +scorched and finally consumed the paper, and quitted the room perfectly +satisfied with his firmness and philosophy, thinking, as it appeared, +with Lord Monteagle’s anonymous friend, that “the danger was past as +soon as he had burned the letter.” + +The writing this letter to one whom she yet believed in heart devoted +to her, although withheld from making her his wife by considerations +first instilled into his mind by his late father, and, for all she +knew, kept alive by his surviving parent, cost poor Anne a severe +struggle. When it was despatched, it became the sole object of her +consideration from morning till night. The doubt whether she had done +wrong,--whether John would think ill of her, or fancy her mercenary or +presuming,--whether he would receive it as she hoped, and come perhaps +himself, bearing the relief she sought for her poor mother,--whether +he would make a point of taking it to her on the day upon which the +application reached him, the day upon one anniversary of which he had +given her the very seal with which she had sealed it,--whether it might +awaken feelings which she was sure he possessed, but which, for the +reasons we have just stated, had been suffered to lie dormant,--and +whether----! + +But vain were all her hopes--groundless all her fears,--by one rude +blow the bond between them had been eternally severed; and while the +poor anxious Anne was pondering these things in her mind, Mr. John Brag +was dining at the Ship Tavern at Greenwich, with a party of uncommonly +fine fellows, who, in spite of those leviathans of the deep, the +steam-ships, which agitate the surface of the once silver Thames into +a sort of metropolitan sea, had pulled down from Whitehall in their +accustomed blue shirts, to partake of the fare for which, as well as +its hospital, Greenwich is so famous. + +Day passed after day, and, as the reader may easily anticipate, Anne +and her application remained unnoticed. In _her_ mind this silence was +associated with some calamity which must have befallen John, and this +apprehension added to her other griefs and anxiety; meanwhile, her +mother’s illness increased, and, almost without the common necessaries +of life, Anne was at all hazards forced to call in medical assistance. + +She had here again a difficult, a delicate task to perform, but it was +a duty, a filial duty; and who can doubt that the well-regulated mind +of this now humble girl was soon made up as to the course she was to +pursue? The reader may have noticed the expression, “_now_ humble,” it +is meant that he should notice it, because, humble as was and had been +the position of the mother and her two children, they had been born to +better things. Anne’s father was the son of a Bristol merchant who had +amassed considerable property, to which his son succeeded. He married +early, and, contrary to the advice of his friends, left his native city +to enter upon a new field of speculation in London. + +Those who remember the wonderful prospects held out in the year 1825, +and who perhaps are even yet suffering from the effects of their +vast and sudden destruction, may anticipate the termination of Mr. +Brown’s career at an earlier period. Those who at the present moment +are assailed on every side by the most plausible professions and the +most tempting offers of fortunes incalculable, by an embarkation in +the variously diverging abominations called rail-roads, and who fancy +a dividend is at hand before a spade has been struck in the ground, +which it is proposed to disfigure and destroy for the lucre of gain, +had better take warning by it.--For some two or three years Mr. +Brown occupied a handsome house, his table was open to his numerous +mercantile friends, and, in those days, everything that Mr. Brown +possessed was of the best, everything he did was of the wisest. The +war which the triumph of Waterloo so gloriously closed, was, at +the time of Mr. Brown’s prosperity, raging fiercely; every foreign +port was closed by an embargo; the market was safely shut against +the importation of an article in general demand, of which he held +a considerable quantity. The fine and liberal notion struck him of +buying up at all hazards and all prices this desirable commodity:--he +did so,--and, although as a young beginner in London not much known, +he had agents all over the Empire, who were employed by him to keep +incessantly purchasing, until warehouse after warehouse was stored with +it, and he became nearly the only holder in the kingdom. Thus, having +long before expended all his capital in the pursuit, he proposed to +regulate the market with the turn of his finger. The price advanced, he +still held; it advanced yet more; and he began to doubt whether he had +screwed it up to a pitch sufficiently high to answer his purpose, and +make him a _millionaire_; when, one fine morning, an order in council +suddenly and unexpectedly opened the long-closed ports, and the next +week beheld, Mr. Brown an irretrievably ruined bankrupt. + +In the pursuit of his infatuating speculation his engagements had +become incalculably enormous, and the consequent securities unbounded. +The shock of such a reverse was too much for such a mind, and in the +midst of recklessness, remorse, and despair, he consummated all his +other madnesses by suicide. + +In the hour of distress, it was shown that no provision had been made +for his widow and two children. His connexions at Bristol were few, +and those, greatly offended at his quitting his native city, did not +feel at all disposed to relieve his relict, whom, however unjustly, +they thought proper, conveniently enough in order to save their own +pence, to denounce as the first cause of his increased rate of living, +to support which he had had recourse to extraordinary means of gain; +and when all was done that _could_ be done, an annuity of forty pounds +a year was secured for her, by a subscription amongst a few of her +husband’s friends in London. + +The fall was sudden, dreadful; at that period her son George was about +eighteen, Anne about twelve. George had received a fair education at +a school at Clapton or Hackney, I now forget which, and was a fine +handsome grown young man. Anne was almost too young to appreciate the +full extent of her misfortune, and her affectionate disposition led her +thus early to devote all her care to her surviving parent, to whom the +change in their circumstances and station, to her almost unaccountable, +only endeared her the more. + +George was old enough to know the whole truth, and to feel the +bitterness of repulse when his mother tried to procure him a mercantile +situation in the city, and being of a bold and resolute character, +he left his home without any communication with either his mother or +sister, and enlisted in an infantry regiment, then in Ireland. It was +not until his scheme had been irrevocably completed, that he imparted +the truth to his parent, and then returning to receive her blessing, +departed for the Emerald Isle with a sort of negative concurrence on +her part, obtained by the expression of his determination upon the +point, and an avowal that, if he even could obtain footing in any +merchant’s counting-house, he felt assured that his disposition and +feelings would not permit him to continue in it. + +George’s removal from her care and charge, however much she lamented +the separation, of course relieved the widow from considerable expense; +and the little Anne was not yet of an age to require much outlay; for +her mother, who had been cruelly misrepresented by her late husband’s +connexions as being the cause and origin of his follies, was of a most +domestic turn of mind, and sufficiently accomplished to instruct her +daughter in as much of ornamental education as it was probable she ever +would require. + +Still it was evident that the annuity which was secured to her would +not be sufficient to support them without additions derivable from +some other source; and thus it was that she formed the resolution +of retiring to one of the villages near town, and turning the minor +accomplishments which she possessed, to account, in order to increase +her income. This she did, and, under the blessing of Providence, +successfully. Undisturbed by the inquiries of any of the friends +of her prosperity, but encouraged by the respectable inhabitants +of the neighbourhood in which she had fixed her humble abode, she +obtained by the sale of numerous fancy articles of her own making, +and by even humbler employments, a sufficient income to render _her_ +happy, inasmuch as it secured the society of her beloved daughter. +In Bristol and its neighbourhood the name of Brown, common as it is, +might from circumstances have attracted the unpleasant curiosity of +some, and entailed upon her the equally disagreeable commiseration +or condemnation--coming hand in hand, perhaps--of others; but in the +neighbourhood of London few people, out of his own immediate circle, +knew the victim of ill-fated ambition, and all that was said of Mrs. +Brown in the village in which she located herself was, that she was a +remarkably nice civil lady-like person, and had evidently been born +much above the station she then filled. + +It was about two years after George’s departure from the home he had +scarcely inhabited, that the acquaintance between Katharine Brag and +Nancy Brown commenced. It originated in the fact that Mrs. Brown, +anxious that her child should improve herself upon certain points +of education beyond those to which she might herself be competent +to lead her, or rather, if the truth were told, finding that more +regularity and restraint were necessary to settle the habits and +fix the attention of her child, than were likely to be observed or +enforced at home, resolved on sending her as a day scholar to Lavender +Lodge, the “Seminary for young Ladies,” at which Miss Brag was--in all +probability as a set-off for soap and candles--being polished up to +perfection--this special favour being granted to the widow on account +of her exemplary conduct, and the universal respect in which she was +held. + +With the girls at Lavender Lodge, little Anne soon became an amazing +favourite and a general pet. The very circumstance of her returning +home to dinner, and quitting her companions after school hours, gave +her a sort of distinction, and made her, as it were, the medium +of intelligence, and even of communication, by which contraband +luxuries were sometimes smuggled in, and what are technically called +“slip-letters,” from the bigger girls to their friends, were smuggled +out of the seminary. By these acts of kindness, the impropriety of +which Nancy was then not old enough perfectly to comprehend, she was +quite the fashion, and the boarders were unanimous in treating her with +kindness and affection. + +Amongst her greatest friends was Katharine Brag, who was more than +ordinarily good-natured to her, and during the three years Miss Brag +remained at school before she was pronounced everything that heart +could wish, Anne had grown up to be more than sixteen years of age--and +had so far gained the confidence of the head of the establishment, that +it seemed more than probable she might eventually become a permanent +assistant in its duties. Circumstances, however, occurred to put an end +to this probability; for a lady who had taken considerable interest +in Mrs. Brown’s success, made a proposal to her to establish herself +in the village of Walworth, near London, where she was certain she +could ensure her support and patronage in the sale of her various +works, as well as in the art and mystery of dress-making, which the +industrious mother had studied, and now practised, to maintain herself +and her child. This offer, superadded to the desire of Anne herself +to contribute her share of labour to their joint maintenance, decided +their removal. + +This change of habitation tended rather to confirm the friendship of +Miss Brag for her friend; for it was effected just about the period at +which that young lady finally quitted school. The amiable manners of +Anne again became her passport into the society of the elder Brags; and +although she was received as the humble companion of the young lady, +she was so genteel and so clever that they thought (much strengthened +in their opinions by that of their daughter) that it was greatly to her +advantage to have such a companion. + +In the midst of this happy communion, and just as John Brag had begun +to look at Anne with eyes not quite indifferent, her brother George +arrived at home on leave of absence from his regiment, previous to its +departure for India. He was then a fine handsome young man, of two or +three and twenty. The military drillings he had undergone had set him +up, and his figure was just what a figure ought to be. The career he +had run since he entered the army had been honourable and satisfactory. +The notice of his officers had very early after his enlistment been +attracted to the attention, regularity, and assiduity with which he +performed all his military duties; and a rumour having soon got about +that he was something better than he seemed to be, he was taken notice +of by the captain of his company, who, after inquiries, not further +pushed than he felt consistent with delicacy, and the evident desire of +the young man himself for a certain degree of concealment, suggested +him as a fit occupant of the office of paymaster’s clerk, for which +it was evident he was fully qualified:--he was speedily raised to be +a corporal, and before his first four years of service were expired, +had become serjeant-major of his regiment, a circumstance perhaps +unparalleled in the British service. + +In one of those moments which decide the fate of empires and of ladies, +Katharine Brag met George Brown; it took but one glance of his bright +eyes to scorch her susceptible heart, and unfortunately or fortunately, +as the case may be, George Brown reciprocated the feeling. It was no +difficult matter to get Anne to agree to Katharine’s avowal, that +she had never seen so charming a person,--an officer too,--the thing +of all others; for the immediate rank of the young hero “in mufti” +was never explicitly defined; and while she was contriving all sorts +of devices to enjoy his society in the participation of the various +amusements of middling life, her brother John, who had become great +friends with George for the sake of his sister, fell into all their +arrangements with the greatest readiness; so that every day in which +they could manage it, little parties were made for Exhibitions, +Panoramas, and all the Vauxhalls, Lyceums, Playhouses, and places of +public resort, where either during the performance or after it was +over, they might so satisfactorily pair off, as to leave themselves +counterchanged in couples, to the unqualified delights of that sort of +honeyed conversation, to which it is as impossible to do justice in the +repetition, as it is barbarous to interrupt in its progress. + +After the play, as George was with her, Anne would stop to supper with +the old Brags; and then, as John Brag was fond of exercise, he would +see George and his sister home to Walworth after supper was over; and +so they went on, until John was desperately in love with Anne, and +Katharine resolved upon marrying George. + +Katharine believed that she had great influence over her father, and, +from what Anne had told her of her origin, never imagined but that she +should procure his consent to her marriage with George,--an affair +which “pressed,” inasmuch as his leave would be out in about three +weeks, and away he must march with his regiment. So Katharine, one fine +afternoon, just gently touched upon the subject of Mr. Brown’s good +qualities, in a _tête-à-tête_ with her papa, and led the conversation +into a channel which she thought very likely to extort an opinion from +the old gentleman. She was right;--she succeeded in her speculation, +and heard, to her infinite horror and amazement, that he would see a +daughter of his dead at his feet before she should marry what he called +a “Soger.” + +And then forthwith “flared up” the anger of the venerable Brag, who, +though a really plain straightforward man, and as free from pride +or affectation as any wax and tallow chandler within the bills of +mortality, became absolutely furious at the notion of this dress-maker +and her brother,--people admitted only just to please his daughter’s +fancy,--presuming and daring, and all _that_: which fury ended in a +positive prohibition of any further intercourse between the parties; +a mandate for which was accordingly issued, sanctioned of course by +Mrs. Brag, who however, in yielding her accordance to the decree, could +not help thinking that Anne and her brother were as nice a couple of +people as ever she had seen in all her born days. + +It was at this juncture that the friendship of Anne for Katharine Brag +and her affection for George were called into action. It was then she +contrived meetings for them, to which Kate came escorted by John, and +George accompanied by herself. Up to this period these had been matters +of course; but when old Brag shut his doors against the Browns, and +handed his daughter over to the care and surveillance of her brother +John, it became another sort of affair, and as John was too happy to +bask in Nancy’s smiles, he gladly squired his love-sick sister to their +appointments; and thus matters went on for a fortnight or so, when +Kitty Brag ran away with the young Sergeant, who, having as well as his +bride attained the years of discretion, procured a licence and became +man and wife,--a fact which came to the knowledge of the respectable +parents of the bride by her non-appearance at breakfast, and a return +of “_non est inventa_” made to a sort of warrant sent after her into +her bed-room, whence she had decamped very early indeed in the morning. + +From that morning neither Brag the elder nor Mrs. Brag had ever seen +their child up to the period of the commencement of my narrative; Mr. +Brag, as we know, had been gathered to his fathers; and George and his +wife were still in India. + +After the wedding and flight the proscribed Anne used to see John, who +contrived, unknown to the old people, to visit her and her mother as +usual. This acquaintance was for some time continued as the reader may +have already discovered; its happy termination being only delayed, as +Brag had himself said, until the death of his father should leave him +free to act for himself. Meanwhile the said father having then but one +object left upon which to lavish all his paternal affection, gave his +son counsel and promises which led him to aspire, and, as he said, +“look up,” and so Johnny by degrees became less ardent and infinitely +more civil towards Miss Brown, until by those gentle gradations of +coolness which fond and anxious hearts can only justly estimate, +she saw him seldom, and heard from him rarely. His father’s death +occurred,--Brag immediately took a higher flight, and having furbished +himself up by dint of private lessons and evening tuition, was ready, +when he came into possession of the business, to abandon the course +which his blinded parent had pursued, to enable him to cut a figure, +and became the thing which the reader has already seen him to be. + +The intelligence which Mrs. Brown had from time to time received of +George was extremely satisfactory; he had been specially noticed by +Major Mopes, (the military secretary of Sir Cadwallader Adamthwaite, +the commander-in-chief at the presidency,) who had, upon the +recommendation of the paymaster of the regiment, whose clerk he had +been, appointed him to a similar situation in his office; a step which +George, who was full of ambition, wrote home to say he hoped might lead +to better things. + +What they might be, Mrs. Brown of Walworth did not exactly understand; +however, he appeared happy, spoke affectionately of his wife, and +looked forward to the next ten or fifteen years as likely to bring him +home again. To Anne, a prospective view of ten or fifteen years was but +a sad one; the loss of Katharine had been to her severe and trying, +and every month, and every year grew sadder, until at last the only +consolation left which she derived from George’s letters, was lost, +and at the time she wrote the appeal to John, with which the chapter +begins, she had not, as she says, heard from him for more than two +years. + +Then it was that real sorrow and bitterness of heart came over +her,--her mother’s illness, her brother’s silence, her lover’s +falsehood, her own destitution,--it was a dreadful combination of +evils, against which she had to bear up. One other blow was only +wanting to overwhelm her,--and it fell. + +There _are_ moments when the most serious calamities affect us less +than matters which to the million may appear of no moment or importance +whatever; a look, a frown, a smile, nothing in themselves, have, when +the mind is wrought up to a certain pitch of excitement, a power more +dreadful than the gravest evils of another day. + +I have already said that, after waiting for an answer to the letter +she wrote to “John,”--on her birth-day,--sealed with his seal,--and +moistened with her tears--(the letter he destroyed unread),--she felt +the absolute necessity of overcoming all scruples, and conquering all +repugnance to what might be considered the solicitation of charity in +favour of her mother; and accordingly she set forth from their humble +dwelling, leaving her sinking parent in the care of a temporary nurse, +to call upon a well-known professional man in the neighbourhood of +Burlington Gardens, of whom she had often heard the lady who first +induced them to take up their abode in Walworth (but who now was +herself dead)--speak in the highest terms. Anne had indeed seen him at +that lady’s house, and felt that that circumstance gave her something +like confidence to make an appeal to him on behalf of her sick mother, +which she would not have felt with regard to a perfect stranger. + +Behold then this fair, fond, and affectionate daughter on her +way--trembling and doubting, as she hurried along the crowded +streets,--her eyes cast down or heedlessly wandering, while her +thoughts are all concentered on the pillow on which her dying mother’s +aching head was laid; a prayer to Heaven resting on her lips, and +hope, strengthened and sanctified by the silent appeal, glowing in her +heart. Just as she reaches the neighbourhood of the worthy man who is +to minister worldly relief to her parent’s afflictions, her way is +intercepted,--there is a crowd--a stoppage,--she is rudely pressed +upon,--stared at, by an unmeaning insolent countenance belonging to a +tall, tiger-looking, smoke-dried dandy, upon whose arm is leaning a +short, smart, vulgar-genteel companion. The tall fellow continues his +gaze for a moment; the short fellow, emulating this impertinence, and +anxious to behold the beauty who has attracted his friend’s attention, +proceeds to the manual experiment of pinching her arm. The suffering +wanderer turns indignantly to repel the insult, and sees before her, +grinning and grimacing, like a baboon, that paragon of pretension, Mr. +John Brag. + +At such a moment such a sight was, indeed, a trial;--but if it struck +daggers into her heart thus to be treated by _him_, who once, and in +other days, had vowed his vow of love and faith to her, what must she +have felt, when, upon beholding her pallid agitated countenance, she +saw the fellow wink at his companion, and heard him exclaim with the +peculiar elegance of the school to which he aspired to belong, “Ho, +ho,--come along, my lord--no go--this _is_ a mistake,”--and clutching +his tall friend’s arm, hurry on, shrugging up his shoulders in a sort +of mock despair, and no doubt giving his own version of the nature of +the previous acquaintance which had evidently subsisted between himself +and the supposed stranger! + +Anne stood still for a moment--had she tried to move forward, she +would have fallen;--her breath faltered--the blood seemed to ebb and +flow in her heart--her eyes swam with tears;--she was better,--she +continued her way, and reached the physician’s door,--it was opened +to her, and she was shown into a parlour where those who came under +similar circumstances were accustomed to wait:--there it was that her +feelings had way,--she scarcely had entered, before floods of tears +poured down her pale cheeks, and they who had come for advice and +assistance themselves, were eager and active in her service. As soon +as intelligence of the circumstance had been conveyed to the master +of the house, he made his appearance in the apartment, and seeing the +extent of poor Anne’s agitation, caused her to be removed into another +room, where every attention was paid her which the exigency of her case +required. + +Her agitation, however, appeared to increase, and the moment she was +sufficiently recovered to attempt to explain herself, she relapsed into +a state so painful and alarming, that the excellent man, satisfied +by the circumstances that she was laboring under some excitement, any +attempt to soothe which, upon the instant would be perfectly vain +and useless, placed her in the care of his housekeeper, (for whom he +dispatched a servant,) with directions to keep the young lady perfectly +quiet, and endeavour to soothe and calm her mind until he should +return, after having seen those patients who were in the habit, at +stated hours, of calling upon _him_ at his own house. + +And while all this was going on, Mr. John Brag and his friend Lord Tom +Towzle, who, as the reader perhaps has anticipated, was his companion +upon the occasion, and whom although he “Tommied” him and “Towzled” +him in his absence, he “my lorded” in his presence to an immeasurable +extent of vulgarity, not merely to toady the stripling but to be +overheard by the passing crowd--were, as I suspected, engaged in an +elaborate detail of Jack’s foregone adventures with Anne, which, as +Lord Tom did not care whether Brag were hanged or not, so as he rode +his horse “Slap-bang” to win on the following Thursday, he might just +as well have saved himself the trouble of repeating. + +Upon what small things great things turn, say ten thousand writers,--so +is it proved by this adventure of Mr. Brag’s. Worlds would not have +convinced Anne Brown of his falsehood and heartlessness, had this event +not occurred; they were now proclaimed--established,--practically +established. His first assault might have been mere rudeness,--not +likely to endear him to one who fancied him devoted to her; but when +the discovery _had been_ made, and he saw whom he had outraged, to +conduct himself as he had done, was enough to decide the question. +Thus it is that we learn more in an hour from a lecture illustrated +by experiments, than we can collect from written treatises or printed +instructions in a year. The art, or science, whatever it may be, is +embodied,--you have it before you,--and the very facility with which +the professor performs his operations, makes the spectator himself a +proficient. + +So was it with Anne:--she had seen what no book could have taught her, +she had witnessed _that_ which no other evidence would have induced her +to believe. The blow was severe, but perhaps it was providential. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Having safely housed our unhappy girl in the house of the worthy +physician, we may perhaps be permitted to cast our eyes towards the gay +widow and her sensitive sister, who, truth to be told, were suffering +as much in _their_ way as our more humble friend from Walworth. + +Mrs. Dallington, whose perception was remarkably clear, and whose +judgment was particularly sound, had for some time been fully aware of +the state of Sir Charles Lydiard’s heart and mind--for his mind and +his heart were waging a perpetual war with each other; nor, however +solicitous she might be (I admit that supposition merely for argument’s +sake) to bring their acquaintance to a happy termination, did she +entirely regret the caution and consideration with which, it was so +evident, the fastidious baronet bent his steps towards the hymeneal +altar. She felt assured that, if he judged her rightly and fairly, she +should eventually possess his entire affection; and she also felt, that +to obtain it after such a scrutiny, would be to secure it for the rest +of her life. + +It must be allowed that she sometimes thought he had considered and +examined and scrutinized quite long enough, and believed that the time +had arrived when she should have an opportunity of saying yea or nay, +as the case might be; but, whenever the crisis seemed at hand, some +new doubt, some new apprehension, appeared to be conjured up, the +bright vision was dissipated, and she remained still the expecting, +disappointed Mrs. Dallington. + +Blanche, on the other hand, received a proposal from Rushton almost +every day in the week--if at least the most violent protestations of +love and devotion might be so construed; but the _brusquerie_ of his +character evinced itself so perpetually, that the chances were, that +the evening of the brightest day ended in a storm. Blanche was quite +aware of the disposition she had to deal with; and although flurried +and fluttered by her lover’s extraordinary animation and vivacity, +she resolved not to surrender her hand, whatever might be the fate +of her heart, until she was convinced that her hero was calmed into +a fit state for domestication. In point of fact, Rushton was quite +as jealous of Blanche as Lydiard was of her sister; but his jealousy +was of a different caste: he smiled, frowned, laughed, scolded, and +did ten thousand unaccountable things, just as he was acted upon by +passing events, while Lydiard never suffered himself to be betrayed +into any external evidence of what occupied his mind: and thus the pair +of lovers continued to make themselves as uncomfortable as they made +those, whom upon all essential points were devotedly their own. + +Affairs were in this delicate position when Brag, who was encouraged in +all his absurdities by his noble friend Lord Tom, partly to gratify +his vanity, and so secure his aid, if required, upon emergencies, and +partly to afford sport to his lordship’s friends, opened his heart +in a kind of hypothetical way to the young lord with regard to the +widow and her sister, to which train of thought he had been led by the +conversation he had previously had with Rushton in the street. + +“I don’t see,” said Jack, “why--I--shouldn’t do as well as my +neighbours, in the matrimonial line. I look on, at others who play at +courting with wonder; they seem to me to make no move. Now there’s Sir +Charles Lydiard and the widow--they don’t care a fig for each other, +and yet they are to be married, as the world says. As for Blanche, she +seems to me to care as little for Rushton. Why, hang it! if I wanted +to marry either of them, it would not be a week’s work. No, no!--faint +heart--eh! you know. I’d just make either of them buckle to, in half +the time, and no mistake.” + +“Have you ever thought of such a thing, Jack?” said Lord Tom, who, +piqued by the coldness with which the widow had always received him, +felt by no means ill-disposed to encourage his tiger in any scheme +likely to make a commotion in the family. + +“Why,” said Jack, “I can’t say that I have; but I--of course, I dare +say it means no more than what I always meet with--but I _have_ thought +that there was something uncommon odd about the widow’s eyes.” + +“Indeed!” said Lord Tom,--“and very handsome eyes they are too: +besides, Jack, she is rich, and what they call in the city ‘well to +do.’” + +“Mum!” said Jack--“know her fortune to a fraction: didn’t overlook that +in the calculation.” + +“Oh!” said his lordship--“then you _have_ been thinking rather +seriously upon the subject.” + +“Not seriously,” replied the tiger, “only I was considering that Sir +Charles is what I call losing time--waiting upon her too long, as we +should say at Epsom. It would be a good match,--not that I care for +money--no more than my father did. Did I ever tell you of my governor +and his hundred-pound note?” + +“Not that I recollect,” said his lordship, although he did. + +“Why, _my_ father,” said Jack, “was one day walking along the Strand, +when, just as he came by the end of Buckingham Street, a fellow picked +his pocket of his pocket-book, full of memorandums, letters, and other +papers, “of no use but to the owner,” and a hundred pound note besides. +What d’ye think he did, as soon as he found out his loss?” + +“Went to Bow Street, perhaps,” said Lord Tom. + +“No.” + +“Stepped to the Bank and stopped it.” + +“Couldn’t--didn’t know the number.” + +“Caught the thief, then.” + +“No,” said Jack, “not a bit of it. The minute he found he had lost it, +he went home and got another.” + +“In order to have it stolen like the former,” said Lord Tom. + +“Not a bit of it,” replied Jack; “just to show how little he cared +about money. So with _me_; I don’t care for money, except as it buys +money’s worth. What’s a guinea in a box?--not better than a brass +button in a bag. But still one cannot marry without the stumpy.” + +“Then try the widow,” said Lord Tom; “you have my full permission--only +don’t quote me as authority. You will drive Sir Charles either into a +proposal or the Serpentine river; so at all events something will come +of it.” + +“But, my lord,” said Jack, “since we _have_ touched upon this matter, +I will be candid. I have just said I don’t value money; but, if it +weren’t for the fortune, I would rather marry the sister.” + +“And has _she_ been kind too,” said Lord Tom. + +“Why,” said Jack, simpering, and affecting to look modest, “I can’t say +kind--uncommon goodnatured--and--laughs--and all that: and I have heard +a long-headed old fellow, who knows the sex, say, that if you can once +make a grave female laugh, the day is your own.” + +“Provided always,” said his lordship, “that she laughs _with_ and not +_at_ you; the difference is surprisingly great.” + +“Oh! Blanche is no ways whatsoever satirical,” said the tallow +chandler:--“and, hang me! if I was asked, I should say there wasn’t a +pin to choose between them.” + +“Take my advice, Jack,” said the mischievous lordling--“try them both. +Manage your matters well--lead them both on--there is no chance of +their confiding in each other, because as they are both supposed to be +engaged, neither would choose to trust the other with any proof of her +infidelity.” + +“Shall I write to the widow,” said Jack, “and talk to the sister”-- + +“Write, man! are you mad?” said Lord Tom. “Never write--that _would_ be +a pretty affair. Who knows how notes may miscarry--how writing-desks +may be left open, or if not, be broken open? Besides, they might, upon +so strange a proceeding as that, compare notes, and what a pretty mess +you would be in then! No; sound them--try them--get them apart, and +ascertain the extent of their interest in you.” + +Brag listened to all this advice of his noble friend, believing it to +be given _de bonne foi_; and although there appeared difficulties in +the delicate process which his lordship suggested, and which, by a mind +like Brag’s, were not perfectly easy to be surmounted, he thought he +comprehended the general tenor of his instructions, which had for its +object his making himself uncommonly agreeable to both parties. + +“Lead Blanche on,” said Lord Tom, “by a course of negative +officiousness; be always near her, devoted and unaffected. Let her fall +into friendship; sympathize with her in all her feelings, agree in all +her opinions--but never seem to do so with any defined object: thus in +a fortnight or three weeks you will obtain her confidence. She will be +convinced you esteem her and value her, and are anxious for her comfort +and happiness; then she’ll grow kind and familiar, and, thrown off her +guard by your respectful behaviour, will begin to evince an undisguised +wish for your society. She will at last feel that you are somehow, she +can scarcely tell how, essential to her happiness, and when you have +got her into this blessed state of amiability, off with your disguise +of friendship, like the hero of a tragedy, and profess yourself her +lover. Then”-- + +“Ay, ay,” interrupted Jack, “that’s all very well, my dear lord, and +a very pretty month’s amusement it would be, to do all you prescribe: +but, then, what will Frank Rushton be about to let me? He’s as fiery as +a dragon, and as jealous as old Nick. No, no, whatever is done, must be +done clean, off-hand, smack smooth, and no mistake.” + +“Then,” said Lord Tom, “if that’s your principle, you had better take +a shot at the widow; she’s not so likely to be flurried by a hurry; +and, besides, your activity will form such a striking contrast to +the respectable icicle now hanging about her, that you will in all +probability carry the day by a _coup de main_.” + +“Just after my own heart,” said Jack; “by Job! I’ll have a shy at her.” + +“Do,” said his lordship, “and when you are installed in the town-house +and family mansion in the west or north, or wherever it is, make +yourself agreeable; fill your house with your friends, and let us be +jolly.” + +“We’ll live like fighting cocks,” said Jack, “you only just see. I’ll +do it regular; there sha’nt be a fellow in the king’s dominions who +shall beat me.” + +“Success attend you, Jack!” said his lordship, “but don’t forget +Thursday.” + +“I’ll be punctual to the minute,” said Jack; “my watch is a +regular-built chronometer. You shall find me at the starting-post, all +right, and no mistake.” + +And so the friends parted, Brag having not the slightest intention of +ever risking a second visit to Wrigglesford, or a second attempt to +trespass on the surly farmer’s grounds, who had threatened him for his +former proceeding; and moreover being resolved to devote the next few +days to the achievement of one of the beauties, of both of whom he was +convinced, in his small mind, he was a regularly established favourite. + +Meanwhile we must not forget poor Anne Brown, whom we left under the +care of the physician’s housekeeper, and who, when she recovered from +the agitation which kept her senseless for some hours, found herself +with her head reclining upon the arm of that highly respectable +functionary. + +It would require a much greater space than I am permitted in this hasty +narrative, to describe the excellent qualities of Dr. Mead, the eminent +and able practitioner to whom the anxious daughter had prevailed upon +herself to apply for advice and assistance; but it is absolutely +necessary that the reader should be made acquainted to a certain extent +with the attributes of his character, even beyond the pale of his +profession, the exercise of which seemed rather the fruit of a desire +to do good to others, than of any venal feeling of self-aggrandizement. + +Although there exists no documentary evidence to prove his descent +from the eminent physician of the same name, it seems not entirely +improbable that the fortuitous circumstance of a similarity of +patronymic and profession might have conduced almost unconsciously +to a similarity of feeling and disposition between them. Matthew +Mead, the father of the famous doctor, was a nonconforming divine: +our Dr. Mead’s father was an orthodox clergyman. If the famous Mead +married early, our Mead was yet single; and whatever turn he might +have had for the fine arts, or whatever veneration he entertained +for their professors, his means, although fully adequate to the +maintenance of a highly respectable establishment and equipage, were +not yet sufficiently extensive to emulate his namesake as a patron or +protector. Still, his income might have been much larger, had he not +upon every occasion where, by a benevolent curiosity, he discovered the +slenderness of a patient’s means, forborne to accept the fees which +from the rich and great he did not hesitate to accept, and which his +spreading fame and rising reputation produced in very considerable +numbers. + +In his manners mild and soothing, in his conversation unaffected +and intelligent, his study appeared to be to “minister to the mind +diseased,” as well as to the body; and his approach to the sick chamber +was hailed by the watchful invalid rather as a relief from pain and +suffering in itself, than as the mere business visit of a professional +man, coming in the ordinary routine of duty to enquire and prescribe. + +With feelings and a disposition like this, the benevolence of his +heart beaming in his countenance, and the sympathy which he felt for +sorrow and sadness expressed in language the most gentle and in a tone +the most harmonious, it is not surprising that Dr. Mead should have +speedily reassured poor Anne, to whom, as soon as she was sufficiently +recovered to be conscious of her situation, he was summoned by the +housekeeper, and whom he was greatly surprised, upon inquiry, to find +not a patient, but merely the emissary from one who sought his advice. + +It was in a moment evident to his searching eye, that the agitation +under which she had been suffering, and from which she was not yet +quite recovered, must have had its origin in some more sudden event, +and one of more recent occurrence than the illness of her mother: he +resolved to question her upon the point; but a recurrence of all the +worst symptoms induced him to forego any further search into a matter, +in fact, disconnected with the object of her visit to his house. + +That object was immediately attained. The excellent man ordered his +carriage to be got ready instantly, and directed the housekeeper, +who had been in attendance on Anne, to accompany her to her mother’s +house, and to return home with the carriage, telling her that he would +himself, having called upon one or two patients in his immediate +neighbourhood on foot, proceed to visit his new patient at a later +hour; giving as a reason for this proceeding the absolute necessity of +his seeing those persons before his departure for Walworth, and the +probable anxiety of Mrs. Brown for the safety of her daughter, if she +should delay her return until he should be able to accompany her. + +To some practitioners, this delicacy on the part of our doctor might +appear somewhat too refined, the obvious mode of proceeding being, to +have handed the young lady into the carriage, and driven with her to +her mother’s residence; but Mead felt otherwise. He had odd notions +upon many points; and beyond what he considered the main object of +this arrangement, the fact, that an entirely unexpected visit from a +stranger might not altogether suit the convenience of an establishment +so confined as that of Mrs. Brown’s, did not slip his regard or +consideration. + +When Anne reached home, she had a hard part to play. The anxiety she +felt for her mother; the pang she received when she saw the sunken +eye of her beloved parent fixed--not tearless--on her returned child, +filled with a half-sanguine, half-hopeless expression, and heard her +breathing heavily, made her heart ache to its very centre. Filled with +gratitude to their expected benefactor, she endeavoured to explain to +her suffering mother the extent of his kindness and consideration, +while the recollection of the callous barbarity of the man she had once +loved, and whom she believed to have loved _her_, wrung her to the very +soul. + +That she was indignant at the treatment she had experienced, who shall +doubt?--but who, that knows woman, will doubt either that in the heart +where Love has once dwelt, the very memory of his presence there, will +extenuate the fault which should make the object hateful. + +This generous, gentle feeling turned all the force of the indignation +which ought to have been directed against the paltry pretender +himself, towards his associates, to whose baleful influence Anne +entirely attributed the astounding change which had taken place in his +manners. Even the neglect of her letter was laid to the same account; +but yet what made the wound he had inflicted rankle the more, was +the impossibility at the present juncture of risking her mother’s +tranquillity--perhaps existence, by telling her what had occurred, or +of accounting for her lengthened absence by explaining the cause of the +indisposition to which it was attributable. + +In less than two hours after Anne’s return the doctor, true to his +promise, arrived. It is scarcely possible to describe her feelings as +he entered the room where her mother lay; it seemed as if Hope had +revived in her breast--that there was somebody who felt an interest for +them. She drew back from the bed-side, and hid her face in her hands +to conceal her emotion: she cried like a child, and tears again were a +relief to her aching heart. + +The kind doctor’s questions to Mrs. Brown were few: the case needed +little enquiry--it was a sinking of nature, caused, as it seemed to +him, less by bodily ills than mental affliction, and considerably +accelerated by the want of proper air, and, he almost feared, +nourishment. He wrote a prescription, rather however as a matter of +form, satisfactory to the patient, than with any view of the success of +medicine, and then, having taken leave of his patient, beckoned Anne to +follow him from the apartment. + +“Your mother must be removed as soon as she can bear the fatigue,” said +the doctor. “Change of air and diet are absolutely necessary.” + +Anne heard the fiat in silence, and again tears rolled down her cheeks. + +“I should think,” continued Dr. Mead, “that with care and a proper +regimen the removal might be effected in four or five days.” + +Still Anne remained silent and trembling, her eyes cast down upon the +ground. + +“You should contrive to amuse her mind,” said the doctor; “she should +not refuse to see her friends.” + +“God help us!” sobbed Anne, unable longer to conceal her +agitation,--“we have no friends! What is to be done, Heaven knows! She +must be moved; your kind directions shall be obeyed, sir;--I”-- + +“My dear young lady,” said Mead, “you wrong yourself, and _me_, when +you say you have no friends. In _me_ you have a friend. Rely on +Providence, and never despair:--friends will always be raised up for +confiding piety, for suffering virtue, and for filial duty in distress. +I will not indelicately press my enquiries, but you must permit me to +act upon my own advice. _I_ am the friend your mother must admit. I +will call here to-morrow; and I think, without putting either of you +to much inconvenience, I can secure you a comfortable residence in a +worthy and respectable family, in a desirable climate. _I_ must manage +all this; and perhaps I may be able, at no distant period, to give +you and your mother a good reason why she need not feel herself under +any serious obligation to me:--upon this point I will not trouble you +to-day,--you have had worry and agitation enough. Keep yourself calm +and quiet; cheer your mother’s hopes--there is no fear of a dangerous +result; upon that point I will stake my reputation. Let her have the +medicine I have written for, and to-morrow, by one, I shall see you +again.” + +Saying which, he shook hands with the grateful Anne, and proceeded to +his carriage. + +At no period of our lives does kindness so powerfully affect us as +when it comes immediately after we have received some cruel blow. The +affectionate tone and spirit of the doctor’s consolatory address struck +to Anne’s heart, and she returned to her mother, blessing God who had +raised up such a help to them in the hour of gloom and adversity. + +The doctor’s benevolence did not stop here, even for the day. In the +evening, whilst Anne was preparing the best refreshment she could +contrive to procure with but slender means of purchase and small skill +in cookery, the housekeeper of the excellent doctor arrived, bringing +with her, sundry little delicacies, and some wine which her master +“had taken the liberty of sending, because by experience he knew its +soundness and excellence of quality, and was therefore sure it would +be serviceable to his patient in her particular case;” in short, every +comfort was secured to her that sympathy could suggest or art provide; +and, as Anne herself said, the very feelings which such attentions +inspired, contributed of themselves materially to exhilarate and revive +her poor mother, whose bodily ailments, as Mead had surmised, were +painfully aggravated by mental depression. + +And yet, grateful to Providence as Anne was, with a heart overflowing +with thankfulness to the generous, noble-minded man who in a few hours +had converted a house of mourning into a house of hope, if not of +happiness,--when she laid her head upon the pillow near her mother, who +slept tranquilly, her first thoughts were of that unworthy being by +whom she had been first insulted and then repudiated even as a common +acquaintance, in the street that morning. + +It seemed like a dream to her even then. Prepared as she must have +been, and indeed had told him she was, eternally to resign any claim of +a tender nature upon his heart, she could not bear the thought of being +spurned by the man for whom she had permitted herself not only to feel, +but admit that she felt, an affection. That she had not deserved such +usage was self-evident, and that she should receive it particularly +after her last appeal, was galling and distracting beyond endurance. +Little did she think how perfectly disconnected with that appeal his +conduct was, or suspect how he had treated her last letter. + +These thoughts, and those of early days, were naturally blended in her +mind with the memory of her brother George, whose long silence was +another source of anxiety and agitation; nor could she forget, besides +the tenderer ties to John, the closeness of their connexion by George’s +marriage. If George had been at home, thought Anne, he would not have +behaved so--but George too has forgotten us. All those who once were +dear to us, and we to them, are gone! and we are helped and comforted +by the stranger upon whom we have no claim, and who has no tie to us +but his own benevolence. + +In the morning, Mrs. Brown awoke after a refreshing sleep, very much +better than even her watchful daughter could have hoped. It was but +too evident that the physician had rightly decided on the character +of her complaint, and the absolute necessity of a change of regimen +in the first instance, to be followed up by a removal from the close +atmosphere of a small room in a gas-lighted suburban village to a +purer air. Indeed, so very much better did her mother appear, that +Anne repeated to her the verbal prescription of the doctor, adding the +proposal he had made of providing them with a comfortable residence in +a family known to himself. + +For three days did Dr. Mead continue his visits punctually, bringing +with him upon each occasion some little luxury prepared for use, +under the plea that he was most anxious his patient’s food should be +dressed according to rule, and that he could not be satisfied unless +his own servants were the operators, under his own immediate direction. +At the expiration of a week he pronounced her capable of bearing the +fatigue of removal; and on the following Saturday evening Mrs. Brown +and her daughter found themselves established in a delightful cottage +surrounded by gardens and fields, within four miles of town, the master +and mistress of which appeared the devoted servants of the worthy +doctor, and vied with each other in showing attention and courtesy to +their new inmates. + +With returning health, there arose in Mrs. Brown’s mind an irresistible +feeling of embarrassment connected with her present situation. She +found herself and her daughter placed in a position of ease and +comfort, with the consciousness hanging over her that she was incapable +of affording the luxuries which she was enjoying, and a sensitive +unwillingness either to trespass upon the kindness of their benefactor, +or if that kindness were merely limited to the recommendation of their +new residence, equally anxious not to involve herself in expenses which +she was aware that she could not defray. + +The doctor’s hours of visiting his patient were different from those +which he had fixed before their removal. He came in the evenings, +partook of their tea, and sat longer and stayed later each evening +that he came--and so a week wore away--and yet Mrs. Brown had not the +courage to put those questions which she had resolved somehow to ask, +and to which her medical friend’s conduct certainly did not appear +likely to afford any practical solution; for when he congratulated her +upon the improvement of her health, he alluded to a trial of some new +medicine, about the effects of which upon her constitution he was very +sanguine, and which he should begin with, in “a week or two.” + +The words had scarce passed his lips, when the eyes of mother and +daughter met, not unseen by the doctor, who immediately added to what +he had already said:--“Perhaps you may be of opinion that in that time +you will have no need of any medicine at all.” + +This seemed to be an occasion which Mrs. Brown might seize, of coming +to an explanation of her feelings, and she availed herself of it +accordingly; and, difficult as was the task to perform, she contrived +to make the doctor understand the delicacy of her position, and the +apprehensions under which she laboured. + +“My dear madam,” said Mead, “I am delighted that you have given me +an opportunity of speaking upon this matter. As the worthy people of +this house can tell you, or may perhaps have told you, you are not the +first patient I have recommended to their care; and that when such an +event happens, I consider them my guests during their residence here. +In _your_ case, however, there are circumstances very different from +those which occur in many others, as far as I am concerned:--you have, +naturally enough, forgotten _me_; but we have met before the occasion +upon which I recently visited you.” + +“Indeed!” said the lady, somewhat incredulously. + +“Indeed,” replied the physician, “I have dined in your house, madam, +more than once. I was not aware of this fact when first I called on +you, but circumstances and coincidences led me to institute an enquiry, +and I found in _you_, madam, the widow of the man to whom I may, +without exaggeration, attribute my success in life, and the place I now +hold in society and my profession.” + +“You surprise me exceedingly,” said Mrs. Brown. + +“It is now more than four-and-twenty years since,” said Dr. Mead, +“that I was recommended to the notice of Mr. Brown by a friend of his +and a connexion of mine, then living at Bristol; and upon my arrival +in London I was, in consequence of that introduction, invited to your +house, where, as I have already said, I dined more than once. But it +was not by mere commonplace hospitality that Mr. Brown proved the +warmth and sincerity of his feelings towards me. Upon one occasion, +when an opportunity presented itself--in all human probability the +deciding opportunity of my life for furthering my professional views--a +sum of money was necessary to the accomplishment of my wishes, of +which I was not possessed. Had not Mr. Brown at that time generously +assisted me, I must have relinquished the object I had in view, the +realization of which, proved, as I have already said, the foundation of +my fortunes. I have now, I think, said sufficient to overcome all your +scruples with regard to my present conduct; and I only rejoice that the +opportunity is afforded me of proving to you and this dear young lady, +that there is still in the world such a sentiment as Gratitude.” + +“This is most extraordinary!” said Anne. + +“For several years,” continued Dr. Mead, “after my return from the +Continent, I endeavoured to find out the widow of my benefactor, but +without success, and I look upon that as one of the most fortunate +hours of my life in which the suffering daughter of my first friend +came to require my assistance, attracted to me by a reputation which +her father had so materially contributed to establish. Now,” added +he, “you may look on me with feelings far different from those which +have hitherto occupied your hearts and minds:--in me you see only the +_protegé_ endeavouring as much as in his power lies, to evince his +thankfulness where it is so justly due.” + +“What are we to say to you?” said the agitated parent. + +“Nothing, nothing,” interrupted Mead. “Permit me to continue my visits, +now, luckily not rendered professionally necessary. Let me entreat +you to remain where you are, and allow me, whenever I can, to come +hither and enjoy in your society, and that of your exemplary daughter, +a repose after the hurries and worries of a London life, which I have +long but vainly sought.” + +Nobody can doubt what, under the circumstances, was the course Mrs. +Brown pursued, although, it must be confessed, that she even then, +had her doubts as to the truth of the doctor’s narrative; regarding +the statement of his obligations to her husband, and his consequent +success in life, rather as the fruits of an inventive faculty, exerted +in order to overcome her scruples and satisfy her delicacy, than as a +matter-of-fact bit of history. + +Of herself, she had not the slightest recollection of the name of her +new old friend in the catalogue of visiters at her house; nor could +she recall to her mind the personal appearance of any guest at her +husband’s hospitable board which bore a resemblance to the doctor. +A quarter of a century had elapsed, and the tallow-faced pupil of +the hospitals had grown into the mellow-tinted arbiter of the mortal +destinies of men; and if the doctor had been sufficiently ungallant +(which doctors never are) to have made an ample confession on _his_ +part, it is quite certain he must have said, that he found not in the +sinking widow whom he had restored, any remains of the charms and +attractions which had in his early days characterized the gay and +dashing wife. + +Poor Brown however had, in the zenith of his career, been as hospitable +as a Madeira merchant, and was wont to welcome to his table men of +all trades and nations, all callings and professions. He held it to be +part of his business to cement connexions by social intercourse, and +therefore while he kept in fact, open house, it was morally impossible +for his lady, who was not much interested in the casual guests “below +the salt,” to recollect all their names or persons. Still she could +hardly divest herself of the idea that the doctor’s history was a +soothing fiction; although her daughter, whose opinion of the said +doctor was somehow more favourable than that of her parent, declared +her conviction that he was much too honourable, too candid, and too +sincere, to endeavour to carry even a favourite point by deception or +misrepresentation. + +How this paragon of physicians turned out in the wearing, we may +perhaps live to see. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +It was a short time after this, that Mr. Brag was called upon to +perform a feat for the amusement of his aristocratic friends, which, +however powerful the effect it actually did produce, terminated in a +manner less agreeable to the actor than the audience. + +Upon our hero’s arrival one day at the lodgings of Lord Tom Towzle, +he found his lordship and two other worthies concocting an answer +to a matrimonial advertisement which had appeared in the columns +of that most fashionable of all journals, The Morning Post; and +Jack’s appearance to take his seat in such a council was hailed with +enthusiasm;--in fact, he was the very man to undertake the conduct of +the whole affair. + +The advertisement ran thus:-- + + “MATRIMONY.--A widow lady, in good circumstances and of high + respectability, being, from causes which she will be most happy + to explain, left much alone, is desirous of again entering the + married state, provided she could find a gentleman of honour and + character who might feel a similar wish. The advertiser is aware + that an address of this nature is unusual, and may therefore create + a prejudice against her in the minds of some; she is, however, + confident, that upon investigation her conduct will be shown to be + perfectly justifiable. Letters, post-paid, directed to A. Z., to be + left at the Twopenny Post-office the corner of Little Queen Street, + Holborn, will be attended to: but as it is not the intention of the + advertiser to gratify idle curiosity, no farther particulars will be + entered into, until after an interview between the parties.” + +“This is capital!” said Lord Tom. “We have seen hundreds of men +advertising for wives, but the lady being the applicant is something +new. However, she is evidently no fool; she is determined to see +her man before she explains herself. You, my dear Brag, must be +the recipient of her wishes and sorrows. We have just concluded a +reply, fixing a meeting upon Waterloo Bridge, a locality chosen in +preference to any of the Parks, squares, or gardens, on account of its +solitude,--a quality which has reduced it as a speculation to worse +than _nil_, which, considering it is one of the most splendid ornaments +of the metropolis, is most deeply to be regretted.” + +Jack was delighted at being fixed upon to talk over the fair +advertiser; his self-acknowledged invincibility was admitted. It was +his particular _forte_--and it was speedily arranged that his three +companions should remain at a convenient distance until the parley +should have proceeded to a certain extent, when they were _manfully_ to +avow themselves confederates in the scheme, and eventually drive the +rash damsel “fainting from the ground.” + +It must be confessed that the system of mate-hunting through the +medium of the newspapers, is one which not unnaturally subjects its +practitioners to the assaults of the mischievous and merciless. Whether +any of the negociations, of which such notices are the precursors, +terminate satisfactorily,--that is to say, in the union of the +parties--it is impossible to say; but it does seem, for people who have +eyes and ears and hands and tongues, the strangest possible course of +proceeding. + +Jack, who in all his antics kept his eye upon the main chance, was +by no means the less inclined to the performance of this hoax upon +the defenceless innocence of the yet unknown fair-one, by a notion +which flashed into his mind, that it might turn out that she really +was handsome and rich: a notion which, to be sure, was rather +romantic, inasmuch as it would appear that a lady possessing those +qualifications--or even one, provided it were the latter--need not +have had recourse to a public proclamation of her wish for a husband. +Something, however might come of it: it was the opening of a new +field for the exertion of his talents, and the display would, he felt +certain, place him a step or two higher in the estimation of his noble +sporting friends. + +The letter, addressed as desired, was despatched, the postage paid, the +day and hour were fixed, and the party separated to meet a few minutes +previous to the rencontre, and arrange their forces, as has already +been described; three forming a corps of observation, while Brag was +performing his light-infantry evolutions in advance. + +It must be quite clear to the reader, that upon such an occasion Jack +took the greatest possible pains to make himself what he called “the +thing;” every fold of his coloured neck-handkerchief was laid with the +most anxious nicety of form and tint, every curl was crisped into its +own peculiar place, and the whole of his costume made to look like that +of “a genteel comedy” playhouse beau, which, as he believed, must be +irresistible in a widow’s eyes. + +At length the wished-for day and hour arrived. Lord Tom Towzle and +his two friends were joined by Brag at the corner of Pall Mall, and +proceeded to the scene of action, where they took up their stations +a few minutes before two--two being the appointed time for the +meeting--and having separated according to the programme, Mr. John +Brag commenced his amatory promenade on one side of the bridge, while +his expectant companions occupied the other, but at a considerable +distance from him. + +It was a pleasing thing to see our hero settling himself and pulling +up his shirt collar, then drawing on his glove, then twirling a little +switch-like stick which he carried, and then using it in whipping +his own boots, shining with a lustre which Day and Martin might have +envied. He had scarcely finished one turn when the London clocks began +striking two, which at different periods they continued to do, for +nearly five minutes, that of St. Paul’s booming through the air about +midway between the subordinates.--Another turn had been taken, and +no fair one was in sight:--a small girl in trousers, with her hair +platted into two long tails with bows at their ends, and a bustle, +approached--she was evidently no widow; she passed on; Jack tried the +eloquence of his eyes upon _her_;--then came a tall, gaunt woman, with +a poodle dog. Jack looked at _her_, but she made no sign. At last +there appeared a fine portly-looking dame, dressed in a coquelicot +bonnet, topped up with white and green feathers, a lavender-coloured +pelisse, and buff-coloured boots. The friends in the distance were +convinced that this was _the_ person. She looked behind her and before +her, and first on one side, and then on the other, and proceeded at a +steady pace. She drew a full-sized, white-faced watch from her bosom, +and gazed upon its dial, and then tossed her well-plumed head with an +air of impatience and surprise at the non-appearance of her summoner. + +John Brag, Esq. beheld the vision, and if he had seen all the dæmons of +the Hartz Forest pemmican’d into one plump lady, he could not have felt +more horror and dismay. By what fatal accident, what evil coincidence, +it should so have occurred, he could not imagine;--the extensive being +before him, and now fast approaching, was neither more nor less than +his respectable mother. + +What the deuce could have brought her so far from home, and so +wonderfully fine in her dress, Jack could not imagine; the question +was, what was to be done? If he advanced, another minute would +bring him in contact, and into conversation, with his parent; if he +retreated, he must fall back upon his friends, and she would inevitably +follow and accost _him_. The brightness of his genius came to his aid +in this unexpected dilemma--he resolved instantly to join her, turn +round with her, and fall into the dialogue which he saw must take +place, and make his companions believe that his companion was the real +object of their expedition, the advertising lady. + +This scheme possessed many advantages, for the very circumstance of +his relationship to his companion would afford him an opportunity of +exhibiting the ease and familiarity of his manner while talking to +the supposed advertiser, which would convince his companions that he +was proceeding most successfully in his career; during which period +he hoped to set his beloved mother on her way on the other side of +the water before they could come up to enact _their_ part of laughing +at the victim, which it was settled they were not to do, until Brag +should give a signal that the moment for explosion had arrived. + +The ingenious performer, however, had reckoned without his host. When +he and his mother met, the expression of her countenance was anything +but agreeable: she seemed, in fact, as much mortified and annoyed by +_his_ appearance as he had been by _hers_: and with all his desire to +keep good friends with her, and wheedle her away as soon as possible, +he could not disguise the anxiety with which he watched the approach +of the fair husband-hunter, upon whom, so long as his parent remained +where she was, he could not of course play his tricks. + +“Well, John,” said the lady, “who would have thought that we should +have met here to-day? I’m sure I don’t know how long it is since I’ve +set eyes upon you.” + +“I have been a good deal out of town,” said Brag, acting (for effect +with his friends) in the most civil and obsequious manner. + +“What,” said Mrs. Brag, “at your little place in Surrey. I suppose you +are coming from it now--eh, Johnny?” + +“No, not exactly,” said Jack. “May I ask where you are going?” + +“Nowhere particular,” replied the lady. “Don’t let me keep _you_. I am +only out to make a call. I can go without _you_.” + +“I will just see you to the gate,” said Jack, carefully abstaining from +any gesture or movement which could in the slightest degree resemble +the appointed signal for the co-operation of his friends. + +“Don’t mind _me_, John,” said his mother; “it is so nice and airy up +here, that I think I shall take a turn or two on the bridge before I +go.” + +“My dear mother,” said Brag, “you’ll catch your death of cold. Let me +persuade you to get off as soon as you possibly can.” + +“I like air,” said Mrs. Brag; “so you go your way. Who are those men +standing out there? Do you know them?” + +“Those men!” said Brag--“what, those three men there?--no--I know +nothing about them.” + +“Well then, good b’ye, John,” said the lady. “Now don’t let me keep +you; it is more than a quarter after two, and I needn’t be at my +friend’s till three; so now go--there’s a dear!” + +This was a puzzler:--the fancy his mother had taken to walk upon +Waterloo Bridge seemed to Jack not only the most extraordinary, but the +most inconvenient imaginable. He could not leave her without accounting +to his friends for not having made the signal, or for the conversation +in which it was but too evident to them he was engaged; nor could +he, in fact, go near them, without practically contradicting the +declaration he had just made to his mother, that he knew nothing about +them. He decided. + +“Well then, mother,” said he, “if you really _do_ like to walk up and +down a little, I don’t see why I should not walk up and down with you.” + +“Well, I’m sure!” said Mrs. Brag, “wonders will never cease, I think! +Walk up and down with _me_!--why you have not done such a thing these +three years. Why, we have never been out together since the day you +took me down to dinner at Blackwall, and kept me shut up in an attic +at the ‘Artichoke,’ because, you said, I wasn’t fit to be seen by the +company. No, no--go about _your_ business, and leave _me_ to mine.” + +“I am waiting for somebody,” said Jack. + +“Oh! that’s it,” cried Mrs. Brag. “I thought there must be something in +the wind.” + +“I know you don’t like spoiling sport, mother,” said Brag. “I’m here +on a bit of fun:--I’ll let you into the joke. I expect every moment to +see an uncommon smart body, who has been fool enough to advertise for a +husband--eh!--don’t you see? We’ve tipped her a twopenny, fixing this, +as the place of meeting: it’s past the time, and I dare say she won’t +be much longer. Now, perhaps, if _you_ stop, she won’t come to the +scratch.” + +“Advertise for a husband!” exclaimed Mrs. Brag--“why, what _have_ you +been at? Did _you_ answer the advertisement?” + +“Clean as a whistle,” said Jack, flourishing his stick, and shaking his +head with an air of uncommon self-satisfaction, “smack smooth, and no +mistake--eh!” + +“What! appointing her here”--said the lady. + +“Here at two,” said Brag--“the adorable A. Z. at the oil-shop the +corner of Little Queen Street, Holborn.” + +“You did, did you?” ejaculated his mother. + +“I did,” said Brag. + +“Well then, all I say, John,” cried Mrs. Brag, “is, that you ought to +be ashamed of yourself. If you was a lone widow woman, how would _you_ +like to sit moping and mumping all alone, after having been used to +sociability and comfort.” + +“I see nothing to be ashamed of,” said Brag. “If people will make +themselves such Tom-noddies as to put such trumpery stuff into the +newspapers, they deserve all they get.” + +“How you ferreted it out, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Brag. + +“Ferret what out?” said Jack. + +“--But _this_ I do know,” continued the lady “the letter was not in +your hand-writing.” + +“How the deuce do you know _that_?” interrupted Jack. + +“Why, do you think I don’t know your little scribbling pot-hooks and +hangers when I see them?” retorted the mother. + +“I dare say you do,” said the son; “but how came you to see the letter +we sent to A. Z. at the pickle-shop?” + +“As if you didn’t know,” said Mrs. Brag. “Do you suppose I am so blind +as not to see through _your_ antics? No, no: as I said before, how you +ferreted it out I don’t yet understand; and when you had, I think you +might have been better set to work than to hoax a parent.” + +“I’m all at sea,” said Jack. “What have you or your affairs to do with +our fun?” + +“Do!” screamed the angry lady, “do--why what else should they have to +do with? So now you are ashamed of your spy tricks, and want to sham +that you did not know who A. Z. at the pickle-shop, as you call her, +is.” + +“I’ll be hanged if I do,” said Jack. + +“Then hanged it is my belief you will be,” replied the mother, “_you_ +know as well as _I_ do, that _I_ am that individual.” + +“You!” cried Jack--“you A. Z. at the pickle-shop!” + +At this moment Brag’s miseries were, as he thought, at their +_acmé_--but he was mistaken. The instant he received the unexpected +and most unwelcome intelligence, that the object of his diversion and +ridicule, to enjoy which three of his first-rate friends had been +brought to the scene of action, was really and truly his mother, his +course was clear; apology and conciliation were the weapons with which +he was to assail her, and having soothed her anger, he would walk her +off the ground as speedily as possible; a course which he considered +quite practicable, now that she must be convinced, however angry, that +there was no use in her remaining on it. + +“My dear mother,” said Brag, “I am truly and seriously sorry for this +affair. If I had fancied it possible--but I--really--dear me!--this is +all very uncomfortable.” + +“If I thought you didn’t do it on purpose,” said Mrs. Brag, “I +shouldn’t mind it half so much.” + +“My dear mother,” said Brag, “I do most positively assure you”-- + +To which point of assurance his speech had arrived, when, tired of +procrastination, and satisfied that Brag had admirably performed his +part of the farce, his three friends bounced across the road, and +joined the unhappy creature, forming, as it were, a semicircle in his +rear. + +“Come, Jack,” said Lord Tom Towzle, “you have had enough of this fun. +Is he vastly agreeable, ma’am? Isn’t he a nice little man?” + +“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Brag, “you _do_ know these gentlemen! Why, you +little story-teller, you said they were no acquaintances of yours.” + +“If I did”--said John-- + +“--_If_ you did!” said Mrs. Brag--“why, you know you did:--and so these +are the companions of your trick--the witnesses of your impudence!” + +“Pray, ma’am,” said one of the dandies, “do not flurry yourself--we +are not going to eat you!--we were only anxious to have the pleasure +of seeing you, because, as we all want wives more or less, we thought, +like yourself, we might as well take the opportunity of viewing, before +purchase.” + +“Oh, Johnny, Johnny!” said Mrs. Brag, holding up her pink and +white-striped parasol in a posture of threat--“you would do much +better if you would but stick to the shop, and do your duty by _me_: +if that was the case, you would not drive your poor mother to do what +you yourself are most active to turn into ridicule. I’ll find this +out--I’ll sift it to the very bottom: my belief is, that you have been +pumping Jim Salmon, or one of the shopboys, to make this precious +discovery, in order to amuse your fine friends at the expense of your +parent.” + +“Parent!” exclaimed Lord Tom Towzle--“what! ma’am, is--?--eh!” + +“How!” cried one of his friends.--“What!” said another. + +“Why, you see,” said Brag, “I--I”-- + +“I’ll tell it you shorter,” said Mrs. Brag, around whom and +her auditors a crowd of four or five of the diurnal two dozen +foot-passengers were now congregated:--“he is _my_ son--and not content +with letting an excellent business go to rack and ruin while he is +cutting his capers, and leaving an anxious mother to a solentary life +and melancholy prospects--here he is”-- + +“Pray, ma’am,” said Lord Tom Towzle, “in what line may you be?” + +“Wax and tallow chandler,” said Mrs. Brag, “including sperm and other +oils, flambeaux, tapers, bougies, and sealing-wax of all colours and +qualities.” + +“She’s mad, poor thing!” said Jack--“fancies herself my mother! Did +you ever hear?--go home, ma’am--go--and don’t expose yourself again by +writing such stuff in the newspapers.” + +“What! Jack,” said Lord Tom Towzle, “is A. Z. at the pickle-shop, +corner of Little Queen Street, Holborn, your mamma?” + +“So she says,” said Brag. + +“Says!” exclaimed the indignant matron,--“it isn’t that you are much to +be proud of: but here, gentlemen, here’s the card of the shop--I never +travel without half a pack in my pocket--here, see--judge who is right +now. Oh! if his poor dear father could but get out of his grave in +Cripplegate churchyard to see the use his darling son has put all his +indulgence to”-- + +“He would probably go back again into it, ma’am, as fast as he possibly +could,” said Lord Tom. + +“For _my_ part,” said the widow, looking at the slice of nobility which +had last addressed her, “I begin to think you are no better than he is; +however”-- + +Here, an admonitory--“Come--move on, move on,” from two policemen on +duty, put a check to the conversation, which promised to become more +and more animated. + +“Move on!” said Mrs. Brag, who at this period was in a burning +rage, the flame of which glowed on her cheeks and sparkled in her +eyes:--“yes, Mr. Policeman, I’ll move on, and move off too; but it +would serve that little whipper-snapper cockney son of mine right to +send him to the Station House for what he has done.” + +“Go home, poor soul!” said Brag, trying what “dejected pity” might +do:--“go home, and get cool: I’ll come and see you soon.” Then, turning +to his companions, he added:--“I’ve heard that gentle remedies are +best, eh!--the soothing system, as Dr. Dulcimer calls it, eh! Go home.” + +“Don’t be a fool, Jack,” exclaimed Mrs. Brag, “you’ll repent of this +some day. All these fine-weather friends who set you on to play tricks +for them to laugh at, will leave you the minute your troubles begin, +just as rats run out of a falling house; and perhaps they would not be +so fond of you _now_, if they knew that your town mansion was nothing +but a brass plate, and your little place in Surrey, a second floor over +a carpenter’s shop. Get you gone--get you gone! If you have no feeling +for yourself, Jacky, I cannot help feeling for you.” + +Away flounced the indignant mother; and having squeezed herself with +some difficulty through one of the anti-cheating turnstiles at the end +of the bridge, bounced along Wellington Street towards the Strand, +Lord Tom Towzle signalizing himself, and delighting the spectators, by +imitating, at the top of his voice, the crowing of a cock, triumphantly +victorious in the overthrow of an enemy--an exhibition which has +been more than once received with unbounded applause in a theatre in +Westminster, which yet remains beyond the reach of the Licenser. + +“Well, now,” said one of Jack’s three friends, “who is this old +catamaran? Why does she insist upon being your mother?--is it because +her name is the same?--or”-- + +Here again was Jack puzzled most wonderfully. To renounce her as a +parent, and denounce her as a cheat, was something too strong even for +_his_ assurance. + +“--Why,” said our hero, “I believe, if truth were to be told, she is my +mother.” + +“Truth to be told!” said Lord Tom, “why, Jack, although there may, in +these wicked days, be something like reason in the proverb that says, +‘it is a wise child who knows his own father,’--the adage cannot hold +good as regards the female parent;--there can be no great doubt about +_that_.” + +“Why,” said Jack again, who generally began his speeches with +why,--why, he knew not,--“why, you see, my mother”--And then again +nature interposed:--it was not feeling, it was not tenderness, nor even +affection, which held him back, or checked the tongue on which some +flippant falsehood was gathering--it was instinct,--not better in its +character perhaps (if so good) than that of a chimpanzee, but it was +enough to paralyze his efforts to shuffle off the relationship between +himself and the maltreated A. Z. at the pickle-shop at the corner of +Little Queen Street, Holborn--“Why,” again said Jack, “I am sorry +we made so bad a shot,--because I believe it is a good deal my own +fault--I have driven her to it, eh! Can’t keep at work and”-- + +Brag had now fallen into his own trap; his impudence for once failed +him, and he stood confessed the son of the determined husband-hunting +widow of the deceased tallow chandler. + +“But, Jack,” said Lord Tom, “what did your amiable parent mean by the +brass plate, and the carpenter’s shop--the mansion and the villa?” + +“Oh, that,” said Jack, “was all passion. When a woman’s back’s up, +she’ll say anything, no matter what. I am sorry it has happened, +because it has exposed her, and certainly has not come off the bat, +clean, smack smooth, and no mistake.” + +“No, that you cannot say,” said Lord Tom; “however, never mind it; the +old lady will forgive you. You must go and see her, and make it up. +Suppose we all go in a body and apologise, and I’ll explain to her the +circumstances of the affair, and convince her that you really were +totally ignorant that _she_ was the advertiser, eh! Shall we do _that_?” + +This proposition produced a violent accession to Jack’s already raging +fever. The thought of Lord Tom Towzle and the two “nobs,” as he called +them, proceeding _en masse_ through the shop to the back-parlour +beforementioned, under the row of wooden candles fluttering in the +breeze, was perfect misery to him. + +“No, no,” said Brag, “by no means! I have always noticed that a woman +cools soonest when left alone.--My mother,” said Brag, assuming a new +tone, and which he thought to be the wisest, “is a woman of what you +call strong feeling--mighty high--old family--and proud as Lucifer. +She’s in a passion; and when she is out of it I’ll go to her--mollify +her, eh!--smooth her down, and make all snug and comfortable.” + +“--‘And no mistake,’ Jack,” said Lord Tom. “Well, all I hope is, your +nerves won’t be shaken for the race to-morrow. ‘Slap-bang’ is the +favourite; and riding a winning horse is no very hard task”-- + +“Nervous!” said Jack, who began as usual to rally--“what is to shake +my nerves?--an angry woman? No, no: I know the female sex too well to +mind a few passing clouds; and as for the _exposé_, as the French call +it, it’s nothing to me. My mother, as I have just said, is a woman of +excellent family; how can I help her having been so silly as to marry a +tallow chandler.” + +This mode of putting the case set Jack’s friends laughing with him +rather than at him. Like a cat, Jack generally contrived to fall upon +his legs, however “high” the tumble; and they all agreed that he was +perfectly right, and that he had behaved in the most moderate and +judicious manner: and when they parted, renewed the appointment for the +morrow with the usual cordiality. + +As for Johnny, far different indeed were his feelings: the scene on +the bridge was one which never could be effaced from his memory. The +coquelicot bonnet; the striped parasol; the white and green feathers; +the buff boots; the object of the visit; the conversation; the +disclosure; the mystery of the plate, and the history of the villa; +and, above all, the exhibition of the shop-card, and the conviction +that he was the son of A. Z. at the pickle-shop--it was all vastly well +for his tiger friends to laugh it off--but what would form the subject +of their conversation after dinner that very day at Crockford’s, +where the conclave would be secured from his intrusion? What would be +the nickname which was ever after destined to distinguish him in the +contemporaneous history of society? + +It was clear that his end, as far as that sort of “life” was concerned, +was drawing to a close. Two practicable measures now presented +themselves to his imagination, both of which are said to go by +destiny--hanging or marriage--the halter or the altar, and, according +to Jack’s counterchanged aspiration of the _h_, it was difficult to +discover his preference by his own pronunciation of the word. His mind +was soon made up; and being assured that his secrets--as he considered +the shop, the door-plate, and the villa--would, in the hands in which +they had now been authoritatively deposited, be secrets not many hours +longer, he resolved within himself that he had no time to lose in +bringing the widow to action; and, as the reader already is aware, that +let what might have happened, he never intended to ride “Slap-bang” +over the forbidden lands of Wrigglesworth--that evening and the next +day were to be devoted to the grand experiment of his life. + +In putting this affair into execution, the natural infirmity of his +disposition was remarkably exemplified. Convinced that Frank Rushton +was satisfied of the prepossession of both Mrs. Dallington and Miss +Englefield in his favour, and equally assured of the wisdom of Lord +Tom’s advice as to the course to be pursued, he determined in the +outset to act upon the principle of the one, and adopt the practice +recommended by the other:--that is to say, to play off both the ladies +one against the other, but not to commit himself to either, by writing; +it being evident to the meanest capacity (except that of Johnny’s) +that neither of two sisters, nor of two women, indeed, who were _not_ +sisters, living in the same house, and in circumstances such as those +in which Mrs. Dallington and Blanche were placed, could possibly +receive anything like a proposal, or even a probable approach to it, +without communicating the circumstance to the other. The mingled vanity +and stupidity of Johnny, in the midst of his gaiety and amiability, +prevented this single circumstance striking him; and, secure in his +own influence over both the fair creatures, and his intimate knowledge +of “females,” he resolved upon Lord Tom’s assumed doctrine, that both +ladies being actually engaged to other men, neither would commit +herself to the other by the acknowledgment of a passion for him: this +decided him to fire both his barrels in rapid succession, giving the +unmarried lady the preference by a few hours. + +Having, however, revolved the affair in his mind, he again changed his +original intention as to the mode of attack, and resolved to address +the widow personally--and the sister by letter;--for, in spite of Lord +Tom’s _friendly_ caution about writing, Jack did not feel himself quite +a match for the tender delicacy of Blanche in the way of dialogue; +having moreover, with all his avowed notions of practical advances, +a most sensitive apprehension of a scream or a fainting-fit, which +he feared might alarm the family, arouse the widow to a sense of his +libertine insincerity, and explode the whole of his great undertaking. + +Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon of the day upon +which the unlucky affair of A. Z.--the alpha and omega of his +destruction--occurred, he proceeded to one of his favourite haunts, +and in pursuance of the scheme which he had now arranged, addressed a +letter to Miss Englefield, avowing, not, it must be owned, in the most +direct and explicit terms, but in a tone and language which it was +impossible for any lady to mistake or misapprehend,--a devotion the +most perfect and entire to her mind and person; alluding, in as good +English as he could contrive to write, to the encouragement he felt he +had received, trusting to her kindness and consideration, if he were +mistaken, to forgive him; and hinting that Mr. Rushton himself was not +altogether unconscious of the preference of which he felt so proud. + +This he despatched before he slept, which he did at his “little place +in Surrey;” and when he woke from a sort of fitful slumber in which he +had passed the night, he began bitterly to repent of a step which he +had taken while under the influence of a kind of desperation. However, +as it _was_ done, he determined to “go the whole hog,” and follow up +this feint at the unmarried lady, which might after all be turned into +a real attack in case of a failure with the widow. + +Accordingly, at the earliest decent period for calling upon anybody, +Brag proceeded to make his visit to Mrs. Dallington; but here again his +courage failed him. His mind was made up to the deciding step of trying +his fortune, and as he went along, he rehearsed--or, as they say of +birds, recorded all the sweet notes in which he should address her, if +he found her alone. As he proceeded, his spirits mounted, until he had +worked himself into a serviceable state of amativeness: he reached the +door,--knocked--the noise seemed like thunder: + + “He trembled at the sound himself had made”-- + +his courage began, like that of Acres in the play, to “ooze out at his +fingers’ ends;” and the terror he experienced when the servant told him +his mistress _was_ at home, can scarcely be imagined. + +The crisis had arrived; and as it _was_ to come, perhaps it was better +it should have occurred before any of his mother’s intemperate +disclosures on the bridge had reached what Jack was in the habit of +calling “the West end.” He mounted the stairs with his throat a little +parched, and his hands a little cold; but when the door of the boudoir +was opened, and he found his charming hostess alone, the sight was +fatal. + +“Why, my dear Mr. Brag,” said Mrs. Dallington, holding out her hand +towards him, “where _have_ you been--hiding yourself in the country? I +believe you have some attraction at your place in Surrey, of which we +here in town are not aware.” + +The allusion was not pleasant. Brag--the undaunted, unabashed +lady-killer--sat himself down in a chair opposite the sofa on which he +found the widow seated writing at a table before it, and felt assured +that, by some telegraphic or other communication, the fair object of +his hopes and ambition had received the intelligence of the affair on +the bridge:--so ’tis that + + “Conscience doth make cowards of us all.” + +“No,” said Brag, endeavouring to collect himself, “I have been staying +in Hertfordshire for the last few days.” + +“I assure you we have missed you very much,” said the lady, who, +fortunately or unfortunately, as the case may be, for Brag--was, for +reasons of her own, in the best possible humour for encouraging his +civilities,--“you can’t think how dull we have been without you. My +belief is, that your friend Lord Tom is the cause of your abdication +from town: he is so fond of his shooting matches and his steeple +chases, and you, we hear, are his prime minister: in short, he cannot +exist without you.” + +“Oh!” said Brag, looking very much obliged, and very silly, “you +flatter me. I assure you I just do these sort of things by way of a +start now and then; but--I--it isn’t my taste--it obliges Tom--and that +sort of thing; but--I--I--feel”-- + +“What!” said the widow, “do you mean to disown your affection for a +sporting life, who are, as Sir Charles Lydiard says, the very life of +sporting?” + +“Sir Charles is very civil,” said Brag, who began to feel conscious +of an approach to his subject: “I don’t think _he_ is very fond of +sport--of any sort,” was added in a whisper scarcely audible. + +“He is a strange creature, isn’t he?” said Mrs. Dallington. “A most +excellent man--kind, and all _that_--but _so_ cold in his manner--I am +sure he makes enemies by it.” + +“Why,” said Brag, looking down, and rubbing his hat, “I don’t know what +he may be to females--he _is_ certainly--rather--eh!--rather”-- + +“Oh!” said Mrs. Dallington, “don’t be afraid, I shall not repeat a +word you say about him. I quite agree with you. Women, Mr. Brag,” +and the widow suited her looks to the word--“are fond of spirit and +vivacity. The days of sad, sickly, sighing swains, are gone by: society +is enlightened, and diffidence seems to be considered in these times +merely a mark of stupidity. I suppose everything is destined to travel +at an increased pace, and I, for one, admit a partiality for fast +travelling, as far as _that_ goes.” + +This was pretty strong encouragement to an aspirant who was in a hurry, +and engaged to ride “Slap-bang” across a county the next day--but Brag +was Brag, every inch of him. + +“Yes,” said Brag, “it’s uncommon pleasant: I don’t think, however, I +shall ever be caught giving up horses for steam.” + +This sudden digression from the figurative to the matter-of-fact, +evidently disappointed the widow, who, truth to be told, had never +appeared, either alone or in society, so cordial in her manner to our +hero as upon this special occasion, upon which, of all others, it was +most important to his views that she should be so. The first opening +she had given him for a little self-recommendation in accordance with +her avowed taste, he had botched,--missed his tip,--and become prosy. + +“I have got a good many shares in the rail-roads,” said Jack. + +This settled him, and, it must be confessed, fully justified his own +preference for literary correspondence over verbal communication, upon +tender subjects. + +Mrs. Dallington gave a look; Brag, luckily, did not see it. A pause +ensued, but, as our volatile widow was playing a game, it did not last +long. + +“I wonder,” said the widow, looking at Brag with an expression of +interest--“I wonder _you_ have never married, Mr. Brag.” + +This bit of wonderment nearly took away his breath: his tongue seemed +too big for his mouth;--he began to twiddle his fingers, felt his ears +get red, and his nose cold. + +“Ha, ha!” said he, and rubbed his hat again. + +“So gay, so gallant, and so devoted to the fair,” continued Mrs. +Dallington, “I should think you had only to ask and command. I do not +at all understand why you haven’t yet thrown your handkerchief.” + +Brag, who did not in the least understand why he should perform any +such operation, merely inclined his body. + +“I have been married myself,” said Mrs. Dallington, “and although I +soon became a widow, I am quite sure that where there are reciprocity +of affection, congeniality of taste, and sympathy of feeling, no state +of society can be so truly satisfactory and so entirely good,--I have +no word so short or so emphatic for it as that--as marriage.” + +“It must be uncommon agreeable, I should think,” said Brag, looking +“uncommon” foolish. + +“Now there’s Frank Rushton,” said Mrs. Dallington, “a most delightful +companion--a most accomplished scholar,--and, as I believe, extremely +attached to my poor dear sister--and yet, you see, they don’t get +married. I believe that all you agreeable, gay men of the world, try +everything in your power to turn the heads of poor girls, without any +serious intention of eventually making them happy.” + +This voluntary confession of facts and opinions, delivered in Mrs. +Dallington’s most agreeable, off-hand manner, although it corroborated +in Brag’s mind all his former belief of the interest he had created in +the family, so astounded him, that with the opportunity at hand, for +which he had so earnestly sought, he remained a mere listener at the +mercy of his idol. + +“As for Blanche,” said the widow, “as I have great faith in the +philosophy which inculcates the belief of a love of opposites, I am +sure she, tender, shy, and retiring as she is, ought to be over head +and ears in love with Frank; but I don’t believe she cares the least +bit in the world about him. To be sure she has a right to please +herself. She has a large fortune, and nobody to control her, and, _I_ +think, would make a most admirable wife for any man who knew how to +appreciate her. However, I know nothing about her views or proceedings; +we have no confidences; we each go our own way. I never trouble _her_ +with my advice, and, of course, _she_ never presumes to give me any.” + +“I am sure,” said Brag, “you would make anybody in love with +wedlock--I’m--sure--You wonder that Miss Englefield does not marry Mr. +Rushton;--I--often--think--I do indeed--that--you--I beg your pardon--I +mean Sir Charles--eh!--and no mistake”-- + +“Oh!” said the widow, “I quite understand you. Sir Charles is a good +creature--but as for love, I don’t believe he ever thinks of such a +thing. Certainly he is not of _our_ opinion as to gaiety and vivacity.” + +“I was thinking,” said Brag, looking as white as a sheet, and crumpling +his remarkably nice hat in a paroxysm of something between hope and +fear, “--that--you--really ought not to permit--eh!--this--he is such +an odd man--eh!” + +“My dear Mr. Brag,” said Mrs. Dallington, “there are secrets in all +families.” + +Brag perfectly agreed in the proposition, and directly did there flit +before his eyes coquelicot bonnets, striped parasols, buff boots, brass +plates, green and white feathers, and a tribe of visions more horrible +than Fuseli’s fiercest efforts after a supper of half-boiled pork. + +“There _are_ people with whom we become habitually familiarized,” said +Mrs. Dallington, “but who never touch the heart.” + +“Is Mr. Rushton,” stammered Jack, “one of those?” + +“Why really,” replied Mrs. Dallington,--“Blanche not being here to +answer for herself--for although you never inquired after her, I ought +perhaps to have told you she has been out of town for two days, and +does not return till to-morrow,--_I_ was not so particularly referring +to _her_ case.” + +This must have opened the eyes of a mole. Brag, in a moment, became +aware that Mrs. Dallington could know nothing of his rash note to +Blanche, and felt more convinced than ever that the widow was his own. + +“The case,” stammered John--“you don’t--that is--really”-- + +“You are a most amiable creature!” said Mrs. Dallington. “I see how +diffident you are of your own merits--how unconscious you are of your +own power!” + +“Yes,” faltered Brag, quite overcome--“yes--am I--that is--may I--do I +make myself understood?--is--that is--don’t I--eh!--if--but”-- + +--“Sir Charles Lydiard,” said a servant, throwing open the door, and +announcing the worthy baronet, who entered the room with his usual mild +placidity of manner, and after shaking hands with the lady, turned +round, and beheld--his aversion. The look he gave Mrs. Dallington +expressed all his feelings upon _that_ point: nor was it lost upon +Brag himself, who collected his hat, gloves, and switch-stick, and +having gathered them up, made his bow, and left his adorable widow +_tête-à-tête_ with the baronet, perfectly assured of his triumphant +success with her, and bitterly repenting having exposed so much of his +heart to her less well-provided-for sister. + +Never, to be sure, was there a more perfect illustration of the +character of the swaggering pretender to _bonnes fortunes_ than the +melancholy proceedings of our wretched little hero. The ball was at his +foot--the game was in his hands--and yet he, the slayer of hearts, and +the assassin of reputations, cowered before the fostering kindness of +his liberal hostess, and sneaked out of the presence of the man whom +he believed to be his defeated rival, in ridiculing whom he had first +joined with his mistress to take a step of which we shall hear more +hereafter. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +There are some people upon whom advice is thrown away, and who, holding +themselves to be wiser than their councillors, rush “_in medias res_” +where + + ----“Angels fear to tread.” + +Mr. Brag, who did not want for that sort of intellectual quality called +cunning, was nevertheless, as has been already made tolerably evident, +favoured by nature with an overbalancing share of conceit, and when +he had ascertained the tone of the widow’s feelings towards him, and +satisfied himself that his case was reduced to something very like “ask +and have,” he resolved upon taking the step against which his friend +Lord Tom had so strenuously advised him, and which, as a matter of +assurance, was rendered “trebly hazardous” by his having previously +adopted it with regard to her sister. + +The Irish gentleman’s definition of a bottle of soda water we will +not stop to repeat, but it would have applied with tolerable accuracy +to the character of our hero. Although he had extracted from Mrs. +Dallington what he believed to be quite sufficient to justify his +best hopes, he felt in the solitude of his “little place in Surrey” a +consciousness of inability to conduct the storm personally, or carry +her heart by a _coup de main_--unless, indeed, a letter might be so +considered--and therefore, spite of the advice of his experienced +Mentor, he proceeded to address the fair widow in an epistle, a +repetition of which it is not necessary to inflict upon the reader, but +which contained a distinct declaration and a formal proposal. + +Mr. Brag had now shot his bolt, and nothing remained but to see its +effect. It must be admitted that even _he_ was in some sort nervous +and fidgety; but that happy self-satisfaction, which when he was not +required to make an effort never forsook him, kept his spirits on the +“credit side of the account.” The letter, however, was gone--past +recal--and therefore the next wisest thing to not sending it in the +first instance, was to live upon the hopes of its success. + +Upon the popular “wheel within wheel” system, the widow had acted so +as to induce the declaration which it contained, satisfied that by +“playing” her baronet upon the occasion, she might “land” him,--but +certainly not prepared to find that Blanche was placed in a similar +position. As things turned out, the effect it produced was striking. + +Blanche had just returned from her two days’ visit to the country. The +moment she entered the house, she hastened to her sister’s boudoir, +where she found her in the very act of reading, with evident marks of +amazement and exultation, the avowal of Mr. Brag’s affections. + +“My dear Blanche,” exclaimed Mrs. Dallington, “you are arrived at +the very moment to congratulate me on a conquest. I have received a +proposal”-- + +“What!” said Blanche, “from Sir Charles?” + +“No,” replied her sister, in a tone which certainly conveyed the +idea that she wished she had:--“I think you will guess without much +difficulty, knowing the man.” + +“The Fates are propitious,” said Blanche; “I too have been so fortunate +as to merit the decided approbation of a lover, who declares the +happiness of his life, and the value of his existence, depend upon my +answer.” + +“Indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Dallington:--“why, _my_ worshipper uses the +very same expression. Yes--here it is:--‘The happiness of my life, and +the value of my existence, depend upon your answer.’” + +“That _is_ curious,” said Blanche; “may I ask who the tender swain is?” + +“Guess,” said Mrs. Dallington. + +“I cannot,” replied her sister. + +“What! not our exquisite little friend Brag!” said Mrs. Dallington. “I +was always sure how our acquaintance would end: I wonder it did not +strike _you_.” + +“Why,” said Blanche, “the reason my suspicions did not lead that way is +rather a good one--he has made me a proposal.” + +“When did you receive it?” said the widow. + +“Yesterday,” replied Blanche, “it was forwarded to me from town.” + +“I suppose it is a circular,” said the widow. + +“No, no,” said Blanche, “mine is the original, yours is the copy.” + +“What _can_ the man mean?” said Mrs. Dallington. “Does he really +suppose himself so fascinating, that, like the rattlesnake, he has +nothing to do but look at us to induce us to drop into his mouth? Now +if he had confined his attentions to _me_”-- + +“Ah!” interrupted Miss Englefield, “that is exactly the case; if he had +confined his attentions to _me_, the affair would have been different: +as it is”-- + +“No, no,” said the widow, “don’t misunderstand me, my dear Blanche. I +do assure you I am neither envious nor jealous. You should be welcome +to all his attentions and all his affections--only please to observe +that _I_ intended him to take the step he has taken, and availed +myself of your absence to lead him on to a declaration.” + +“For what earthly purpose?” said Blanche. + +“Man,” said the widow, “is an imitative animal, and everybody knows the +force of example.” + +“But do you want anybody for whom you have a regard to imitate Mr. +Brag?” asked Blanche. + +“In the one particular of which we are now speaking,” replied the +widow, “I do. It seems to me, Blanche, that the lives we are both +leading are full of worry and vexation: yours, because you will not +encourage your avowed lover; mine, because the man whose claim upon +my affections I admit, will not avow himself. It strikes me that this +most marvellous display of assurance on the part of our little friend +may serve us both incalculably, by bringing both our gentlemen to a +proper sense of their duty;--to excite poor dear Sir Charles into a +determination, and to soothe Rushton into a reasonable state of mind.” + +“I confess,” said Blanche, “I do not exactly understand the course of +proceeding by which this desirable end is to be attained.” + +“Let us both accept the little man,” said the widow. “The natural +awkwardness of his position must produce a disclosure of his schemes; +and what appears to me infinitely better fun, his vanity and conceit. +That, which must happen, is, however, only a secondary object with +me;--the discovery of the affair will show our capricious lovers that +there _are_ men who, instead of hesitating to propose to one woman, are +prepared to make offers to two; and moreover, my dear Blanche, the very +notion that we are exposed to such temptations will urge our strange +friends to some decided step. You must accept Mr. Brag.” + +“Me!” exclaimed Blanche: “I accept him--an antidote to everything like +affection of any kind!” + +“Why, my dear,” said Mrs. Dallington, “I am sure he is very genteel; he +curls his hair, wears rings and chains, smokes cigars, rides races, and +lives with Lord Tom Towzle. What would you have?--accept him you must.” + +“Never!” cried Blanche. + +“You must, my dear girl,” replied Mrs. Dallington, “and so will +I:--yes, both of us--he is too charming to be monopolized by one. You +must write to him.” + +“A billet-doux?” enquired Blanche. + +“Exactly so,” said Mrs. Dallington. “Let us both be desperately in love +with Lord Tom’s tiger: you will see how odiously jealous Rushton will +be in a day, and Sir Charles.--Oh! never mind; write--write--write, and +I will dictate.” + +“Write what, my dear sister?” asked Miss Englefield. + +“A civil acceptance of his offer,” said Mrs. Dallington, “couched in +terms becoming the gratitude of a young lady of small pretensions.” + +“I am infinitely obliged to you, my dear sister,” said Blanche, “but +really”-- + +“Really,” interrupted Mrs. Dallington, “you must allow _me_ to be the +best judge of what is best suited to my juniors; so sit you down and +write, and I will dictate.” + +“But what will the world say?” asked Blanche. + +“What world, my dear?” said Mrs. Dallington--“Mr. Brag’s world--or the +world at large? What the one chooses to say will signify nothing to us; +and what we may choose to do will signify as little to the other. Trust +in _me_; be assured that I will not mislead you, whatever may be my +intentions with respect to your scarecrow of a lover.” + +“_My_ lover!” cried Blanche, colouring crimson at the imputation--“your +lover too!” + +“Both,” said the widow. “Now sit down; rely upon it, it is a kindness +sometimes to be cruel:--so write.” + +Blanche, almost unresistingly, seated herself at the very identical +table at which Jack had found Mrs. Dallington established the day +before; and mechanically arranging the writing materials, looked at her +sister with an expression of unconsciousness of what she was to say, +and of enquiry as to the words she was to set down. + +“Are you ready to begin?” said the widow. + +“Yes,” said Blanche--“to obey your instructions most dutifully.” + +“Now, then,” said Mrs. Dallington, “write:--‘I scarcely know how to +reply to your flattering letter.’” + +“I am sure I shall do it all wrong,” said Blanche writing.-- + +“‘I have struggled for some time--’” + +“Some time,” repeated Blanche--“struggled with what?” + +“Go on,” said Mrs. Dallington:--“‘for some time with my feelings,--but +the manner in which Mr. Rushton, whom you have often seen here, +conducts himself towards me is’”-- + +“What would you have me say, sister?” said Blanche, hesitating. “_You_ +know, if nobody else does, that I love him, and”-- + +“Never mind that,” said the widow, “go on:--‘conducts himself towards +me is such, that I can endure his treatment no longer.’” + +“My dear sister,” said Blanche, “you are laughing at me:--you wish me +to expose myself.” + +“Why do you think so, my dear?” said Mrs. Dallington. “You have told +me a hundred times that he torments you to death.” + +“Yes,” said Blanche, “but what I say to _you_, and what I write to this +man”-- + +“Well,” said the widow, “then put--‘vexes me,’ instead of ‘tormenting +me.’” + +“That is better,” said Blanche, continuing to write. + +“‘That any man upon earth would be preferable in my eyes,’” said Mrs. +Dallington. + +“No,” said Blanche, tossing up her head with unusual animation, and +throwing down the pen, “_that_ I never _will_ write!” + +“What innocence!” said Mrs. Dallington. “My dear sister, we are only +setting a simpleton-trap, and”-- + +“It does not signify,” said Blanche, “I”-- + +“No, it does _not_ signify, so write,” said the widow. “There now--go +on--it will be _my_ turn next. Tell him you shall expect him to +call--this evening. I will write him an equally tender answer, and make +a similar appointment. What can it signify what one says to such a man +under such circumstances?” + +“But, my dear creature,” said Blanche, “what an opinion he must form of +us if he thinks we are both in love with him!” + +“It is quite clear that he _does_ think so now,” said Mrs. Dallington; +“so this will not make it one bit the worse. Here--make room--let +me write mine: all you have to do is to watch the results of our +invitation, and be as cold as ice to Rushton when you next see him. +Rely upon it, my dear innocent, we shall have fun, and, if I mistake +not, husbands, out of this scheme, which, moderate as my pretensions +are, I must say I think admirable, inasmuch as it mystifies three men +at once,--and all--all for their own eventual good.” + +“I believe you take a pleasure in tormenting,” said Blanche, who was +busy sealing her note, while her sister was rapidly writing her’s in +that elegant and unintelligible hand which is the universal medium of +lady-like correspondence, when, to their surprise and confusion, the +door of the boudoir was thrown open, and Sir Charles Lydiard and Mr. +Rushton were announced. + +“Hide your letter!” said Blanche. + +“Me!” said Mrs. Dallington, loud enough to be heard by Sir Charles; +“trust to my fidelity.” + +“By Jove!” whispered Rushton to Lydiard, “they are writing--writing +notes and hiding them!” + +“So I perceive,” said Sir Charles, coldly. + +“Well, ladies,” said Rushton, advancing towards Blanche, “we have found +you busy.” + +Blanche bowed diffidently, and finished sealing her note. + +“What is the matter with you, Sir Charles?” said Mrs. Dallington; “you +look out of sorts and out of spirits.” + +“No, madam,” said Lydiard, “I am neither; only I did not know whether I +might venture to break in upon your literary avocations.” + +“Quite right, Sir Charles,” said Mrs. Dallington. “People who make up +their minds not to pry into the business of their neighbours, are most +likely not to be disturbed in their serenity.” + +“Miss Englefield,” said Rushton, “appears to be of a similar opinion. +I confess I am not of a temper to bear with such things. I hate +three-cornered notes, if they are not addressed to myself.” + +“You are equally right with Sir Charles,” said the widow. “I _am_ +writing a billet-doux, but I have just finished.” + +“Upon my word,” said Lydiard, “it must be a most interesting affair. +I think I never saw you more animated than you seem to be while +despatching this note: all I am afraid of is, that I have been the +cause of its abrupt termination.” + +During this dialogue, Rushton endeavoured to draw Blanche into a +conversation with regard to the note _she_ was writing, but she avoided +answering his questions; and supported in the course she had adopted +by her sister’s conduct towards Sir Charles, so completely damped the +ardent spirits of her mercurial lover, that he crossed to the other +side of the room, and threw himself upon the sofa. + +Mrs. Dallington having sealed her note, rang the bell, and directed +the servant to send it immediately. + +“Now,” said Sir Charles, “I have found it out--you are merely trying +me: the note, after all, is destined for me.” + +“As you doubt me, Sir Charles,” said Mrs. Dallington, “I shall leave +you to discover the truth.” + +“I am certain,” said the baronet, with much more animation than he +usually exhibited, “it can be to no one else. I shall return to my +hotel to receive it.” + +“Do,” said the widow, “and justify me from your suspicions.” Saying +which, the lady, with an air of being particularly piqued, left the +room by one door, while Sir Charles, convinced that she had taken some +deciding step with regard to himself, retired by the other, leaving the +other pair of lovers _tête-à-tête_. + +The moment her sister left the room, Blanche rose to follow her. + +“Stay, Blanche,” said Rushton, “one moment.” + +“No, Mr. Rushton,” said Miss Englefield, “I am too angry with you to +stay.” + +“Surely,” said Rushton, “you cannot be angry with my jealousy--a +jealousy that springs only from excess of affection.” + +“No man,” said Blanche, “can possess real affection for any one of +whose sincerity he has a constant doubt. I have forgiven these mad fits +twenty times, always hoping and expecting that time would show you your +error; but no,--our very last quarrel occurred ten minutes after our +last reconciliation.” + +“Recollect, Blanche,” said Rushton, “the events of that day--the day +before you left town:--there you were--the sought and admired of the +party--speaking kindly and looking kindly to everybody except me, of +whom, as I felt, you took no notice.” + +“Well, sir,” said Blanche, “and if I were cold, and even cross, you +need not have been so greatly surprised, if you had recollected how you +called me to account for sitting next Mr. Brag the last time he was +here, and entering into a common conversation with him about some of +his feats and enterprizes.” + +“By Heavens!” exclaimed Rushton, “how I hate that fellow--his easy +assurance, his self-conceit: but the fault is all your’s and your +sister’s. That very night there he was whispering his infernal nonsense +in your ear, to your evident amusement and satisfaction, while I, +distressed and disturbed by your conduct, was losing my money at écarté +with Lady Begbrook, and you sat laughing at my folly and agitation.” + +“I _did_ laugh,” said Blanche, “but I did not laugh alone.” + +“No, no, that’s true,” said Rushton. “I dare say there are minds +and tempers that can bear these irritations--I confess mine cannot. +Possibly I expect too much; probably I am romantic; but, I _do_ say, +and _will_ say, that however charming I may wish my wife to be, I +do not exactly desire that she should be anxious to make herself +universally agreeable, nor equally delightful, to everybody.” + +“Really, Mr. Rushton,” said Blanche, “these fancies of yours are +unjustifiable and unbearable. I confess that it would cost me serious +pain to terminate our acquaintance, in which I have, when you are +rational, great happiness; but such conduct surely deserves to lose +my esteem. I can neither smile nor sigh, walk nor sit down, talk +nor be silent, go out nor come in, but you attribute some motive to +my actions. They bring me a letter--of course it is from a rival; I +dance with somebody--you are either angry or in despair. I am civil to +Mr. Brag, my sister’s visiter, and the next moment I see you wholly +unconscious of what you are doing, crushing my fan to atoms in revenge. +Oh! Mr. Rushton, Mr. Rushton, such conduct in a lover is but the +anticipation of tyranny in a husband.” + +“Tyranny, Blanche!” said Rushton, suddenly softened into subjection; +“what an idea!” + +“I am afraid,” said Blanche, “that our hearts are not formed to be +united: we had better agree upon one point--to part.” + +“There it is!” exclaimed Rushton; “the truth is out. You have now +declared yourself; you hate me--you cast me off. I knew there was some +new attachment formed. Yes, yes--we _will_ part, Miss Englefield. There +is a woman in the world, thank Heaven! who has a better opinion of +me than you have: from _her_ gentle heart my wounded spirit may find +relief.” + +“Oh!” said Blanche, “I am quite aware of that lady’s name. Go, +sir--leave me: let this be our last interview.” + +Blanche spoke these words with so much firmness, that she began to be +afraid Rushton would take her at her word; nor did Rushton’s answer +much relieve her apprehensions. + +“So be it!” said he. “I will conquer this feeling--I _will_ love where +my love can be returned. But, madam, I insist upon one thing--tell me, +who is the man who has supplanted me in your affections.” + +“Why,” said Blanche smiling--“should I do that?” + +“Why?” exclaimed Rushton--“because he shall at least set his life upon +the hazard. Name him to me, I desire: tell me where he is to be found, +and if----” + +“Mr. Rushton,” said Blanche, “I wish you a good morning. Whenever you +are reasonable, and can conduct yourself temperately, I will explain my +conduct to you. In your present state of excitement, I must leave you.” + +Saying which, the fair creature quitted the room, leaving the +infuriated victim of love and jealousy in an agony of despair. + +The moment she was gone, he stared wildly round. In the crowd of +conflicting passions which now assailed him, anger was in the +ascendant; and, snatching his hat from the table, he rushed down stairs +and quitted the house, swearing, almost audibly, that he never would +enter it again. + +It was clear that the project of the ladies had been so far successful +as to set the whole mass of affections and feelings of the two +gentlemen into a state of fermentation; because, while this scene was +acting at the widow’s, Sir Charles Lydiard had been to his hotel, +where he found no note from the lady, and whence, after waiting a +much longer time than would have been occupied in its transmission by +her servant, he proceeded to take his ride, with a distracted brain, +having come to a determination that the next day should conclude his +acquaintance with the avowed and self-convicted coquette, who had now +proved what he had long suspected, that she was merely playing a game +with him for her own diversion. In this critical juncture we must for +the present leave them, in order to introduce the reader to some new +arrivals, as well as to give him some information of the convalescent +mother, her dutiful daughter, and the philanthropic physician. + +The amiable person last named continued his attentions to the widow +Brown and her daughter: his visits became diurnally regular; and the +satisfaction he derived from the recovering health of the one, and +the improving spirits of the other, assumed a character which became +evident to both. The anxiety he expressed for their comfort, the +assiduous attention with which he contrived little surprises in the way +of excursions in the neighbourhood of their present residence, which +he represented as conducive to the re-establishment of his patient, +were marks of a feeling not to be concealed or disguised; nor, to say +truth, did Mead appear at all desirous of practising any delusion upon +either of his new friends. It was perfectly clear that he had formed +an attachment, which from its nature and principle promised to be +permanent. + +Mead had watched the conduct of Anne during the illness of her mother, +had attentively regarded the workings of her mind, and had satisfied +himself that she possessed every attribute desirable in a wife. Their +acquaintance had commenced, and his acquaintance with her mother had +been renewed, under circumstances which gave a deep interest in his +mind to her fate and fortunes. Mead was one of those modest, unassuming +men, who once in an age attain to eminence without having forced their +way by impudent assurance, or having been pushed forward by favouritism +or connexion. Success had not spoiled him; and while rising to the +first rank in his profession, he was the same gentle, unassuming, +affectionate being that he was, while toiling up the “steep ascent to +fame.” + +It was not that Dr. Mead entertained the unfavourable opinions of the +higher classes, which it is the continual effort of the lower orders +to inculcate; but he felt the absolute necessity of something like +parity of rank between the contracting parties to secure happiness in +marriage. The daughter of a merchant, even though unfortunate, was +neither so much inferior nor superior to the son of a country clergyman +as to make the inequality of station seriously objectionable; and in +Anne, Dr. Mead persuaded himself he perceived qualities and feelings +calculated to sweeten the draught of life, and which would worthily +adorn the partner of his future days. In his conduct in this affair +there was nothing of romance or violence of passion. Indeed his love +was what a romantic girl would consider extremely unsatisfactory--it +was rational esteem founded upon conviction; and their intercourse was +so unmixed with any of those flights in which such persons as Miss +Englefield and Mr. Rushton were perpetually engaged, that, when the +doctor made his declaration, it seemed as if it were the inevitable +consequence of their constant association; and Anne’s acceptance of +his offer, under the sanction of her delighted mother, was as calm and +collected as if it were not the great deciding event of her life, and +one which could only be looked upon as the happiest that had ever yet +occurred in it. + +It may be that this calmness, and her apparent unconsciousness of the +wonderful importance of the match in a worldly point of view, might +have arisen in some degree from the recollection which never fades from +woman’s mind, of her first love. Unworthy as he had proved himself, and +changed so much from his former self, he still perhaps retained some +hold on the heart he had betrayed, and would with callous indifference +have broken:--these recollections might have had their share in +producing the effects which, although Mead appeared perfectly satisfied +with the gentleness of Anne’s conduct, were by no means agreeable to +her mother, whose gratitude to Providence for what had occurred was +unbounded. + +There was another point which was necessarily to be brought under +discussion, to which Anne felt a diffidence and difficulty in +alluding--the position of her brother George in society, and his close +connexion with the doctor’s heartless rival. These matters, interwoven +as they were with the probable renewal of her acquaintance with Brag +when his sister should return to England, and the consciousness that +she had committed herself by an acknowledgment of her attachment +to him, preyed upon her spirits, and the brightness of her present +prospects was marred by clouds, which, like the few existing professors +of Nauscopy, she could behold in the far distance before they were +visible to ordinary eyes. To the suspense in which the heart and +mind are constantly kept by a protracted anticipation of coming +evils, which, however remote, are sure to come, poor Anne, it must be +owned, was a victim, and her efforts to rally from it were altogether +unavailing. + +We have all felt that the most serious ills, or the most painful +discussions, which have occurred to us, or in which we have been +engaged, have, when they actually arrived, turned out not half so +serious or so painful as we have expected; and upon this principle +Anne devoutly prayed that the _denouement_, which she regarded with so +much anxiety and dread, should arrive speedily. Her mother, to whom +she imparted so much of her uneasiness as related to the announcement +to her future husband of her brother’s rank in the army, assured her +that nothing was to be apprehended on that score; that a man who had +selected as a wife, the daughter of a distressed and needy woman, +would not shrink from the fulfilment of his pledge to her, because her +brother had been compelled to enter an honourable service even in its +lowest grade. + +Mrs. Brown was a woman of good sense, but whatever Mead’s character and +disposition might be, there is, in point of fact, as far as worldly +matters go, a wide difference in the feelings of a man towards the +female and male connexions of a family: a pretty milliner, or a smart +actress, is a most agreeable _pro tempore_ companion; and there is +not a man who would object to take either, to any of the _guinguettes_ +round town, in the bright blaze of sunshine to participate in the +enjoyments of a Richmond stroll, or a Greenwich fish-dinner; but it +would be rather a difficult matter to induce the same person to drive +Jack Twigg, the brother of the one--or row Bill Bott, the father +of the other--to either of those cockney Elysiums. The doctor was +everything that could be amiable and generous, but the fact that the +real nature of George’s service had never been imparted to him, but, +on the contrary, the discussion had been carefully avoided, might of +itself add to the objections which he might feel to having, by way of +brother-in-law, a hard-fisted sergeant of a marching regiment. + +How he eventually was made acquainted with the facts, and what was +the result of his knowledge of them as affecting his subsequent +proceedings, the reader is soon destined to know: but as they are +rather prominent features of our little history, it is right they +should have a chapter to themselves. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +A few days had only elapsed since the final arrangement of Anne’s +marriage, when the anxiety and worry by which she was annoyed in not +having explicitly told her future husband her brother’s history were +terminated in a manner certainly neither expected nor anticipated by +her. + +It was evening when the doctor made his appearance at the Tusculum, +evidently excited--that is to say, rather more animated than +usual--full of something which he was anxious to impart, and still +more desirous of imparting without flurrying his companions:--to use a +homely phrase, he had a good deal to say, but did not know exactly how +to begin. + +The difficulty he felt, arose from two sources:--the first cause of his +embarrassment was, the consciousness that what he had to communicate +could not fail, with all his caution, to awaken a combination of +feelings in the minds of his hearers, the physical effect of which +upon the constitution of the elder one he anticipated with some +apprehension; and the other originated in the feeling that he was about +to avow himself fully acquainted with every particular concerning a +member of the family to which he was about to ally himself, whose name +had scarcely ever been mentioned, and whose history had never been +touched on. + +“I have news for you, ladies,” said Mead, after having talked upon +some indifferent subjects, “which will surprise you; but I shall not +tell you one word until you have promised me to behave calmly and +temperately when I have told my story.” + +“News for _us_!” said Mrs. Brown. + +“News from afar,” said the doctor. + +The blood rushed into Anne’s cheeks. She was assured whence, and whence +only, news from afar could come to _them_--Mead had heard of her +brother--of the brother of whose position in society she had avoided +the mention--he knew it all--and not from her! She felt humiliated and +abashed, and almost shuddered at the reflection that from mistaken +pride,--unaccountable in a character like hers,--she had left the +developement of the whole family history to chance, by which, Mead had +become possessed of every particular, and was of course convinced that +Anne, with all her good qualities, was not entirely ingenuous. As it +happened, the circumstances of the case were such as not to give that +colouring to her conduct; but, on the contrary, to lead the doctor to +admire the diffidence and modesty of both mother and daughter in not +having spoken much more of such a son and brother. + +“Your son”--said Mead. + +“I knew it must be poor George!” exclaimed Anne. + +“Your son is expected home almost immediately,” said the doctor. + +“Thank God!” said Mrs. Brown: “he is alive then and safe. Three years +have passed since the date of his last letter.” + +“Dear, dear George!” said Anne--her joy still clouded by her +self-condemnation. + +“When, my dear doctor,” said Mrs. Brown, “may we expect him?--and how +have you heard this news?” + +“Promise me, both of you,” said Mead, “to hear what I have to say +calmly, and I will tell you all. You have no reason for agitation; the +news I bring is good--excellent! Now, recollect--no agitation----he is +in England!” + +A flood of tears from the two listeners followed this announcement. I +am not sure that the eyes of the narrator were quite dry. + +“Heaven be praised!” sobbed Mrs. Brown; “I shall see my dear, dear boy +once more!” + +Anne remained mute, and motionless, and weeping. + +“Nay, ladies,” continued Mead, “I have seen him--have conversed with +him,--and only succeeded by pointing out the absolute necessity of +forbearance, in hindering his coming with me:--to-morrow you will clasp +him to your hearts.” + +Had not the one reproach rankled in Anne’s mind, her happiness +would have been as perfect as her mother’s: as it was, she felt she +would give the world to enquire more about him--about his wife--his +family--his circumstances; but she was tongue-tied. + +“Is he well?” said his mother--“and is his wife with him?” + +“She is,” said Mead--“I have seen _her_ too.” + +Another pang thrilled through Anne’s heart:--that wife was the +sister of the man to whom she had herself been betrothed! The +mother and daughter exchanged a look;--it was full of meaning, but +incomprehensible to Mead. + +“I suppose she must be much altered,” said Mrs. Brown; “of that, +however, _you_ can be no judge, not having known her before she went +abroad.” + +“She is a very lovely creature,” said Mead; and observing a sudden +change in the expression of Anne’s countenance, he added--“not that I +mean to make anybody jealous.” + +Anne coloured: she felt that they were travelling over mined +ground:--that the most natural thing in the world for George to +have done when he found out the doctor, was to make some allusion to +the brother of his wife with reference to his sister; and she began +to worry herself into the belief that the whole history of the Brag +affair had been detailed to her affianced lover, and that he was merely +serpentining his way to the part of the details at which he might +terminate his connexion with them altogether. + +“I never saw a sweeter expression of countenance!” continued Mead. +“Her manners are perfect: in fact, nothing but a constant intercourse +with the best society can give that sort of unconscious ease and +gracefulness which seem inherent, and whose greatest charm is the total +absence of effort or affectation.” + +Anne heard, and silently repeated to herself the words, “constant +intercourse with the best society,” and her thoughts flew like +lightning to the back parlour behind the shop, the dangling candles +in front, the respectable Brag defunct, and his widow still extant; +and the result of these hasty reminiscences was a confirmation of +her belief that Mead was proceeding in an ironical strain, utterly at +variance as it was with the general simplicity and amiability of his +character, in order eventually to explode the whole affair, indignant +at the treatment he had experienced, and disgusted with the connexion +he had so nearly made. + +“Why,” said Mrs. Brown--and Anne would have given worlds that she had +said nothing,--“she was always a smart, clever girl, and, I suppose, +time has improved her into what she is.” + +“Her natural genius,” said Mead, “which, from some drawings I saw of +hers, views of different parts of India, is evidently first-rate, has +been--at least so your son told me--wonderfully improved by a residence +in Italy, where art is so generally cultivated and understood; and her +father, who, he says, was devoted to her, indulged her in a wish to +reside upon the Continent for three years before his appointment.” + +The mother and daughter again exchanged looks. It became a doubt in +both their minds whether Dr. Mead was suddenly seized with madness, +or whether their dear George had caught the infection from the Brag +family, and had been imposing on him in the most outrageous manner. + +“I never heard of my daughter-in-law’s having been abroad,” said Mrs. +Brown. + +“She never could have been,” said Anne. + +“All I know is this,” said Mead:--“a gentleman called upon me about +one o’clock to-day. He sent in his card, and, upon seeing his name, +it struck me that it must be your George, whom I had heard you +occasionally mention. I had remarked that you did not speak much of +him, and, as there are secrets in all families, I apprehended, although +you never hinted it, that there might exist some disagreement amongst +you with which I could have no concern whatever; still the similarity +of name excited the opinion that it might be _him_. I immediately +received him in preference to my waiting patients. He told me that as +soon as he and his wife arrived in town, he proceeded to Walworth, +where the people of the house directed him to me, as knowing all about +you. Our conversation grew more and more interesting; and having, +evidently to his surprise, and, I flatter myself, not a disagreeable +one, told him the nature of my engagement to dear Anne, he insisted on +accompanying me hither to clasp you in his arms. I positively refused +that, and, by way of an intermediate bargain, he begged me the moment +I had despatched my professional business to call upon him and his +wife at Mivart’s Hotel, where they have taken rooms. I did so, was +introduced, and, as I have told you, am quite delighted with both of +them.” + +“Mivart’s Hotel!--taken rooms!”--another look was exchanged. + +“Did he tell you,” said Mrs. Brown, “whether he had any family?” + +“I think he said one boy,” replied Mead: “however, he will be here in +the morning. I am not sure whether your daughter-in-law will come with +him. She is in rather delicate health; and the journey from Falmouth, +where they landed, coming immediately on a fortnight’s bad weather in +the chops of the Channel, after a long voyage, is something formidable +to a person who, like her, has been used to all the luxuries of life.” + +Another look,--and an extra one from Anne, who looked at Mead to see +whether there were any visible alteration in his countenance; for all +he said was perfectly incomprehensible to her--if _he_ were sane and +rational. + +“Did she,” said Anne, particularly anxious to discover the extent +of her communication as to her brother’s engagement, as it might be +called, with herself--“did she say anything about her brother?” + +“Brother!” said Mead; “no, my dear Anne; George, your brother, and my +future brother-in-law, I hope,” (Anne blushed again,) “told me she was +an only child.” + +“Did he?” said Mrs. Brown. + +“An only child!” said Anne--and they were both more mystified than +ever. Anne, however, who was more feelingly alive to the actual +position of her brother, ventured a little farther: “Has George,” said +she, “obtained any promotion since we heard from him?” + +“That,” said Mead, “is a question I cannot very satisfactorily answer. +His card was a written one, and the name ‘Mr. Brown.’ As I before told +you, my dear Anne, the name itself was enough for me.” + +This little speech tended very considerably to calm poor Anne’s doubts +and fears. Whatever had occurred, it was clear that neither George nor +Kate had touched upon the subject of her former engagement, and she +began to take courage and feel more at ease than she had been during +the earlier part of the conversation. + +Mrs. Brown’s delight at the prospect of again seeing her son was not +a little qualified by the mystification which Mead’s account of him +and his wife involved, and she longed for bed-time, in order to talk +over the circumstances with her daughter. Her confidence in George’s +veracity rendered her suspicious of the doctor’s accuracy; and out +of both she established an idea that the Mr. Brown of whom they had +been talking must be neither more nor less than some dashing swindler, +who proposed to cheat the doctor, or somebody else, by pretending a +relationship to the family with which he was about to connect himself. + +Of course, so long as the conversation lasted, George and his wife +were the leading subjects of it; not that the doubts and surmises of +the ladies were at all calmed or diminished by hearing Mead detail the +particulars of a visit paid to Mr. Brown, during the time he was at the +hotel, by one of the most fashionable coachmakers in town, to receive +Mrs. Brown’s orders with regard to a carriage which was to be put in +hand immediately, and finished as soon as possible. + +At last the trio separated for the night, the doctor well pleased to +have found in his brother-in-law a gentleman so agreeable and highly +respectable, but wondering more than ever that he should have suffered +his mother and sister to exist in the manner they were living at +Walworth, and where, had it not been for the accidental circumstance +of Anne’s application to him, they would in all probability have been +living still; and coupling these matters with the looks which he could +not at length fail to see Mrs. Brown and her daughter interchange, he +unsettled his mind into a belief that there must be some mystery in the +affair, of which he should like to be master. + +“My dear Anne,” said Mrs. Brown, as she threw herself into the armed +chair in her bedchamber, “what on earth can all this mean? Delighted +as I am at the prospect of so soon seeing my boy, I am astounded and +astonished at what Mead tells us. What can have happened to George, +to induce him to talk and act as he represents him to have done this +morning?” + +“I,” said Miss Brown, “cannot comprehend it. But I am even more +surprised at what he has _not_ said to Robert, than at what he _has_. +He may have made money; he may be able to live at an expensive +hotel; and he may be able to let Kate have a carriage: but one would +have thought one of his first enquiries would have been after his +brother-in-law. Now, of Jack, it is clear he never spoke; for if he +had, and before Robert had told him all, the chances are”--(here her +voice faltered a little)--“_my_ name would have been mentioned too.” + +“My dear child,” said Mrs. Brown, “how should George afford any of +the luxuries of which Mead speaks?--besides, knowing, as I do, the +tenderness of his affection, and the generosity of his heart, do you +think, if he had acquired anything like the property which this person +seems to possess, that we should have been forgotten? No, no!--rely +upon it, there is some great mistake in the business somewhere. George +would never have left his mother and sister to work for their bread, if +he had had the means of putting them at their ease.” + +“Besides,” said Anne, “when the whole of the conversation of _this_ Mr. +Brown with Robert is put together, it does not appear to contain one +word in allusion to our family concerns. It is true, Mr. Brown went +to Walworth, and was referred to Robert by Mrs. Hutchins; but, except +a simple enquiry after our health, he seems to have made no allusion +whatever to anything that happened either before his departure or +during his absence. My belief is, like yours, that it is somebody who +for some purpose has thought fit to personate George, although, to be +sure, it would be difficult to conjecture for what.” + +“I would rather it were anything,” said Mrs. Brown, “than that my once +honourable, high-minded boy should have endeavoured to impose upon Mead +with such extraordinary falsehoods as those which it appears he must +have told, if it be him.” + +“Besides,” said Anne, who grew energetic and eloquent as she proceeded, +“Kate never _could_ draw; the things she took home from school were all +done by the drawing-master: and as for the Continent, she never was +even as far as Calais.” + +“It seems to me, Anne,” said the matron, “to be one tissue of falsehood +and pretension from beginning to end.” + +In this sort of condemnatory strain did Mrs. Brown and her daughter +converse, till, twelve o’clock striking, they considered it proper to +part for the night, in order to indulge themselves with a separate +reconsideration of the whole affair. + +The morning came--breakfast was eaten:--the doctor departed as usual +for town, and the ladies began to count the minutes until George, or +the person who had assumed his name, should make his appearance. At +length the happy moment came; the old lady clasped her son to her +heart, and the young one clung round the neck of her brother. George +IT WAS--that was clear; and although his features had become somewhat +sharpened by time, and his complexion was mellowed into a durable brown +by the effects of the climate, he was not so much altered as might have +been expected. + +“Well, my dear mother,” said George, as soon as he could collect +himself sufficiently to speak, “what gratitude do we not owe to +Providence! As far as Anne is concerned, I am delighted with her +choice: I wanted nothing but her comfortable establishment in life to +make me perfectly happy.” + +“And how is your wife, George?” said his mother; “our doctor says she +is in delicate health.” + +“She is, I am sorry to say, a sad invalid,” said George. “I hope, +however, her native climate, unfavourable as it is to foreigners, may +restore her. She was very anxious to come with me to-day, but she +really is not strong enough to bear even so short an excursion.” + +“We have seen scarcely anything of Brag since you went,” said Mrs. +Brown, anxious as much as possible to soften down his infamous conduct, +out of respect to the feelings of his blameless sister. + +“I rejoice to hear it,” said George. “I trust I never may have the +misfortune of seeing him again.” + +“But I suppose,” said Anne, who was always for peace-making, “you +_will_ see him for the sake of my sister-in-law?” + +“I don’t imagine,” said Mr. Brown, “that your sister-in-law is very +likely to see much of _him_. In fact,” continued he, “I think, when she +gets strong enough, we shall in all probability go to the Continent, +unless perhaps I should stop a month or two in England for a little +shooting.” + +Here the ladies exchanged looks of a similar character to those of the +night before. + +“To be sure,” continued he, “whatever miseries and unhappinesses I may +have undergone since we parted, my career has been one of the most +extraordinary, and most prosperous, that man ever ran. How I have +deserved such blessings, I know not.” + +“What rank have you now in the army, George?” said his mother. + +“Army!” said her son; “you know I have left the army.” + +“Left it!” exclaimed the old lady, more confirmed than ever in the +suspicion that something was wrong somewhere and somehow:--“why then, +how do you live?” + +“How!--as a man of fortune should live,” said George,--“upon my +property.” + +“My dear George,” said Anne, “what _are_ you talking of?” + +“Nothing but what you know of,” replied he. + +“We know of nothing, my dear boy,” said Mrs. Brown, “but of your having +been made clerk to Sir Cadwallader Adamthwaite’s secretary.” + +“Why, my dear mother,” said George, “I never made a remittance to you +without writing fully upon all my affairs.” + +“Remittance!” said Mrs. Brown. + +“Letters!” said Anne--“my dear brother, we have not received a line +from you for upwards of three years; and, during all our distresses, +your silence caused perhaps the keenest pang of all.” + +“Distresses!” exclaimed George--“why this--what--three years!--there +have been roguery and robbery here! From the moment my fortunes +changed, I regularly remitted you as much as my means would afford; and +although wondering never to have heard from you through the agent whom +I directed to forward my letters to you, and to receive any you chose +to trust to his care, I felt assured by his answers that your silence +was a matter of choice; and, ascertaining through him that you were +both well, contented myself with fulfilling my duty and gratifying my +inclinations, without waiting for reply or acknowledgment. The truth +will be easily discovered. This very agent, I find on my arrival here, +has failed, and is recently dead; I have, of course, had no time to +investigate his affairs, but I very much fear I shall be an eventual +loser of four or five thousand pounds by him.” + +Here the ladies looked at each other again. Anne had read in some book +something about shaking the pagoda tree in India, but it seemed as if +her brother must have picked it clean. + +“Three years!” said George--“why then you know nothing of the leading +events of my life--of the entire change in my circumstances.” + +“I see you are in mourning, George,” said Anne, who did not know how to +ask for whom? + +“Yes,” said George, “I am sorry to say I am--for my father-in-law; a +more generous-hearted, noble-minded man, never lived.” + +“In mourning for poor Mr. Brag, now!” said his mother. + +“Brag!” said George--“I sicken at the very name.” + +“Oh, George,” said Anne, “consider Kate!” + +“Kate!” exclaimed Brown, turning deadly pale--“Kate!--Oh! Anne, it +must be more than three years since you got any of my letters.--Lost, +wretched woman!” + +“Lost!” said Anne--“why, is not she at the hotel?” + +“In her grave!” said George, “a grave which closed upon a life of +wantonness and disgrace.” + +“Then you are married again?” said Anne. + +In answer to this question, it seems better to adopt the narrative +style, inasmuch as many circumstances had occurred during the period of +George’s involuntary cessation of correspondence with his mother, which +it would be difficult for him personally to describe or explain. + +The reader has traced the career of Mr. George Brown up to the point +of his becoming clerk to the military secretary of Sir Cadwallader +Adamthwaite. His readiness, activity, and assiduity, were so +remarkable, that the general, who was one of the kindest-hearted +men upon the face of the earth, took the trouble to ascertain the +particulars of his history; and finding him to be in every essential +point a gentleman, resolved on procuring him a commission in the +army, which he did; and when it was obtained, and George appointed, +the clerk was dignified into assistant military secretary, and the +assistant military secretary became one of the general’s family. + +It was during a year or fourteen months of probation before the arrival +of his commission, that Mrs. George Brown (_née_ Brag) began to evince +very strong symptoms of a propensity, which even the thirst produced by +a hot climate cannot justify in one of the “fair sex,” as her brother +would call them; and upon more occasions than one, George, on his +return from head-quarters, found her in a state which, as authors say +who are not able to depict what they wish, “may be better imagined than +described.” It rarely happens that when this vice exists in woman, it +is the only one to which she sooner or later addicts herself. Grown +reckless by habitual intemperance, her temper became violent; and +impatient of rebuke, she taxed her husband with cruelty and inhumanity +for merely remonstrating upon conduct so disgraceful to herself, and +which must be so injurious to him. The most depraved women, however, +find admirers, and Mrs. Brown, degraded as she was, found hers. The +justification she attempted to plead for the irregularity of her life +was, the delusion which had been practised upon her by George as to +the place she was to occupy in the world; that her husband’s rank, +of course, excluded her from good society, such as, she said, “she +had always been used to:” and, in short, having awakened from a dream +of girlish love, she bitterly repented of the step she had taken, +and became careless of everything but the gratification of her worst +propensities. + +This career did not last long. It would be neither pleasant nor +profitable to enter into the particulars of her unfortunate case; a few +months’ intemperance brought her life to its close, and left George a +widower, commiserated by his comrades rather for the sufferings he had +undergone, than for the loss he had sustained. All these circumstances +he had detailed in his missing letters to his mother, in one of which +he had also communicated the intelligence of his wife’s death to her +surviving parent; but, with great goodness of heart and tenderness of +feeling, avoiding all mention of the unhappy circumstances in which she +died. + +If George and Kate had given themselves time to consider the step which +they unfortunately took, and had not been blinded by youthful love, +they could have anticipated nothing but evil from such a marriage. Kate +was evidently labouring under the belief that George was an officer; +and the question whether his rank would enable her to live with people +such as she had been accustomed to visit and receive, never entered +her mind. She first began to feel her difficulties when she embarked +on board the ship which was to take them to India; but even _there_ +the superiority of her manners induced a special attention to her, and +infinitely better accommodation was contrived for her than she had +any _right_ to: in short, from the moment they were fairly launched +in the world, and she saw the path she had chosen, she became fretful +and irritable, her pride wounded by finding herself unable to speak +to, or associate with the wives of the officers with whom she was +domesticated, and her vanity hurt by being permitted to stand in the +verandah of the mess-room, _to look in and see_ the company dancing +when the officers gave a ball. + +That it _was_ humiliating and provoking nobody can deny, but she +ought to have calculated upon such evils before she married; that is, +if she knew enough of “the service” to enable her to appreciate the +relative value of its different ranks: however, it is not my province +to reason upon the wisdom or propriety of her early proceedings. Her +ruin and fall may be fairly traced to her first great act of filial +disobedience; and her fate adds another to the numerous instances +already upon record, of the ill-success of runaway matches. + +The day on which Ensign Brown made his first appearance in Sir +Cadwallader Adamthwaite’s drawing-room, was a most important era of +his life; and when he found himself warmly received by the general, +and presented _pro formâ_ to his daughter, who, of course, knew him +perfectly well by sight, he could not restrain a feeling of regret that +his unfortunate wife had not so conducted herself through what he +admitted to have been a trial, that she might have overcome all the +hardships she had previously endured, and have enjoyed the satisfaction +of finding herself placed by her husband’s promotion, in society from +which her girlish thoughtlessness had excluded her. + +Sir Cadwallader’s kind act of justice to the merits of Ensign Brown +gave general satisfaction, and met with universal approbation; and he +was welcomed to the mess of his regiment with the most unequivocal +marks of friendship and esteem. His official avocations prevented +his doing regimental duty, and his evenings were occupied in a +participation in the pleasures of Sir Cadwallader’s hospitable mansion. + +It might displease the reader if I were to doubt that he anticipates +the result of this introduction of the ensign into the house of +the general. He most probably guesses rightly; but as there _are_ +circumstances which render the case somewhat dissimilar from most +others, he must be told the particulars. + +Ellen Adamthwaite, Sir Cadwallader’s daughter, was the beloved of his +heart. Her mother had died young--a mother from whom Sir Cadwallader +had received, besides the most endearing proofs of constancy and +affection, the vast fortune which he possessed, and which enabled +him to support _en prince_ the highest offices, to which his noble +profession and his gallant conduct had led him. Upon Ellen--the dear, +the gentle Ellen--the love, the devotion, which once was her mother’s +due, devolved at her mother’s death: and although Ellen, who was +everything father could desire, could not but feel conscious of her +power over him, she was the least presuming of daughters, the most +gentle, and most amiable of girls. + +When Sir Cadwallader was offered the commandership-in-chief and +second seat in council at the presidency to which he was attached, he +accepted it, upon the chivalrous feeling of the greatest soldier, not +only of the day, but of the land we live in--that he was the King’s +servant, and equally bound to obey his commands in the highest and +lowest of offices; and although possessed of wealth which rendered +the appointment pecuniarily unimportant, he readily relinquished his +domestic ease and comfort for the more _negatively_ active domination +over an Oriental army. + +While holding this appointment, his constant endeavour appeared to be, +to make everybody happy around him. There was nothing in the state of +the country which seemed to require any of the austerity of military +discipline; and the routine duty, although comprehending an extensive +range, was not that which required the vigilance and activity of war. +He “took the thing easy” himself, and his greatest pleasure was to see +everybody subordinate to himself do exactly the same. He never grumbled +if he saw men in “mufti” or “white jackets;” desired every man to “make +himself comfortable” when he came to dinner; and, in short, was about +the best-natured being that ever melted under an Indian sun. + +That he had taken a great fancy to Brown was clear. Major Mopes, +whose death-like countenance never relaxed into a smile, but of whom +Sir Cadwallader had the highest opinion, inasmuch as he saved His +Excellency all the trouble, not only of writing but of thinking, +had spoken very highly of George, and enlarged upon the meritorious +course he had pursued in entering the army, as he had done, in order +to relieve his mother, who _had been_ in such a different position in +society, from all charge for his support. This recommendation led Sir +Cadwallader to talk to him: he found him well-informed, well-read, +intelligent, and, in fact, a gentleman. The prepossession thus created, +and which went to the extent of procuring him the commission, extended +further, and the only phrase--it is a simple one, and best suits the +general’s feeling, is,--“he liked him.” + +How often such prepossessions take hold of people, and how seldom are +they erroneous!--how unaccountable are the sympathies by which such +prepossessions are created! The moment Sir Cadwallader heard George’s +story, and received the testimonials of his merit and ability, he +resolved to serve him,--and, in fact, to restore him to his place in +society as a gentleman, which he pronounced him to be to his daughter, +while he was yet his secretary’s clerk, as he was sitting with her in +the windward varhandah smoking his chilum. + +Ellen Adamthwaite, who, of course, saw George almost every day, +accidentally, or perhaps incidentally, could not help participating +in the interest which her father took in his fate, especially as the +history of his wife’s misconduct and death were matters of notoriety in +the family, from Major Mopes’s frequent recurrence to the circumstance +of their elopement from England,--and the commiserating “What a pity +it is that nothing can be done to reclaim a person originally so +respectable!” which was so often on his lips. + +When George became by royal authority a gentleman, and Ellen found she +might look at him, and even speak to him, without any indecorum, she +certainly felt more than ever the hardship of his case while doing the +duty which his filial affection had imposed upon him, even regretting, +as he did himself, the cause which, no doubt, was truly assigned for +his wife’s distressing dereliction from every religious, moral, and +social duty. + +Nothing more readily excites an interest in a woman’s heart than a +bit of the romance of real life. George, selected by her kind-hearted +father for favour and promotion, was brought into her society the son +of a ruined merchant, who had received the education of a gentleman, +and had been educated in the expectation of succeeding to his father’s +wealth. He enters the army as a private soldier, to relieve his mother +from the burthen of maintaining him, and he elopes with a girl who +is desperately in love with him. In his past life, therefore, there +appeared a combination of events, sufficiently romantic to awaken a +particular feeling towards him; and it was not many days after his +domestication at the general’s, before Ellen found her eyes resting +upon his intelligent countenance much oftener than upon any other +object in the room. + +There was a manly modesty in George’s manner--a sort of consciousness +of what he might have been, of what he had been, and yet, of what he +_was_, which was peculiarly conciliating. Sir Cadwallader lost no +opportunity of bringing him forward. It seemed, indeed, to be his +study to make him appear to the best possible advantage in company, in +order, as it might be thought, to justify the partiality he had evinced +for him, and the good opinion he entertained of him. + +In London the circle is so extensive, that although some hundred or +two people whisper, and look wise, and nod and wink at each other when +a flirtation becomes a little too evident, there are seven or eight +hundred others to whom it is a matter of no interest; and, moreover, +whatever people think, they keep their thoughts as far distant as +possible from the flirters themselves. Within the confined ring-fence +of an Indian presidency, the slightest movement of that nature at +head-quarters creates a universal sensation; all the worst passions of +mankind are concentered and pemmican’d in a little community of that +sort; envy and jealousy assume the garb of friendship and esteem; and +some miserable wretch, whose hatred towards one of the parties has been +engendered or fostered by the remembrance of a slight or neglect, +thinks it a duty he owes to so excellent a man as his Excellency +the commander-in-chief, to mention to him what people say about his +daughter and Mr. Somebody, whose society and conversation she happens +to prefer to that of the considerate friend of her father. + +Two months had not flown over George’s head in his new capacity +before the whole tribe were in motion. “To be sure,” says one, “Sir +Cadwallader is an extraordinary man:--he can’t but see it.” “Perhaps he +does not object to it,” says another. “La!” cries a third: “what! let +his daughter marry a man from the ranks!” “Hush!” says a fourth--“the +less we say about _that_ the better: rose from the ranks himself.” +“Flogged at Chatham for stealing a cock turkey,” says a fifth. “Hush!” +says a sixth, “here comes his Excellency.” Out turns the guard--ruffle +goes the drum--rattledum slap go the muskets--and his Excellency is +immediately surrounded by the little group in the full exercise of +Koo-too-ism, who, the moment before, were exercising their historical +and biographical faculties in commenting upon the folly of his +Excellency’s conduct, and in descanting upon the obscurity of his +Excellency’s birth. + +That Ellen and George were somehow more paired off together, than any +other two of the party, is most certain. In her conversation with him +she did not disguise her esteem and regard for his good qualities, +which made themselves evident upon every possible occasion; while _he_, +regarding her as a superior being, felt that sort of admiration which +wise men say is not compatible with tenderness. The whole economy of +love, however, is so intricate, so perplexing, so mysterious, and so +perilous, that there exists no rule throughout the whole system without +an exception. + +George once or twice thought that Miss Adamthwaite looked more than she +said; and though he had not sufficiently considered the matter even to +assure himself that of all girls in the world she was the very last for +whom he ought to encourage an affection, a word dropped by one of his +friends on the staff, suddenly brought to his mind the real position +in which he was placed. Then it was he taxed himself with selfishness +in seeking her society; then it was he resolved to alienate himself +from the delight which her conversation and accomplishments afforded +him:--he would mix more generally in society; he would dine abroad +whenever he could, and would go out immediately after his official +business was over; he would not go to tiffin, nor walk for an hour or +two with Ellen in the varhandah: in short, he would not endanger her +peace or comfort by giving occasion for remarks, which although wholly +without foundation, might wound her feelings or injure her reputation. + +It was not till the moment he made these resolutions that the real +state of his heart became known to himself. It was only _then_ he +discovered that he could not act upon his own determination. When +tiffin was announced the next day, Sir Cadwallader forced him to +stay and partake of it--desired his daughter to lay _her_ commands +upon him:--then, by his Excellency’s orders, they played chess +together,--and then came in some visiters--George, of course, could +not leave _them_:--and then--and then--in fact, the very first day +after _that_ in which he had decided upon a total alteration in his +proceedings, was passed precisely as the thirty or forty preceding days +had been passed. + +It is a generally admitted axiom, that “abstinence is less difficult +than moderation;” and so it seems thought George: for failing in his +project of philosophically decreasing his happiness gradually, he came +to the resolution of abandoning it altogether. + +The project George meditated to carry this “stern resolve” into +execution, was one which did honour to his heart; but it required a +confederate, and that very circumstance enhanced its difficulty. The +moment he had ascertained the real state of his feelings, he more +attentively--perhaps tenderly would be a better word--watched the +dear girl to whom he was devoted. It was too true:--looks and actions +which he had attributed to friendship, or even to a compliance with +her father’s wishes, now that he had ventured to think of love, bore +a totally different character. Whatever dress he had accidentally +praised, Ellen more constantly wore; the flower he preferred was always +in her bosom; the songs he loved to hear, she sang; and opinions which +he had once expressed, she adopted for her own. + +Oh! those who have never felt the tender, galling anxiety of a state +like this, cannot appreciate George’s feelings during the week after he +had made the discovery of his real position. What had he done?--gained +the affections of his benefactor’s daughter! It was not vanity that +suggested the truth: the word once spoken that gave _that_ turn to his +thoughts, decided it. The fascination was over him--he was conscious +that he was beloved. How he acted under this impression remains to be +seen. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Amongst his friends--for of a few associates he had many--the friend +George fixed upon as the one to aid him in his rescue from the +commission of what he considered the damning crime of ingratitude, was +the surgeon of his own regiment--a man of sense and shrewdness, and one +who was professionally taciturn upon subjects not intended for general +conversation:--to him, after mature deliberation, George proceeded, and +having begged his private ear, told him he wanted his immediate aid. + +“What!--a duel?” said Dr. Short. + +“No, my dear doctor,” said George, “I am ill--seriously ill. I have +a constant pain in my side. I ought not to stay here. I must resign +my assistant-secretaryship and go home for my health. I want a sick +certificate.” + +“Umph!” said Short--“I see--yes--on which side is the +pain--left--right?” + +“Intensely severe on the right side,” said George. “I cannot lift my +arm perpendicularly without feeling the most excruciating torture.” + +“Umph!” said the doctor. “You know what Abernethy said upon that point +to the old woman who said the same thing to _him_--eh!--What a fool you +must be to try!--eh!” + +“I assure you, doctor, mine is no laughing matter,” said George. + +“Let’s see your tongue. Umph!--clean as a whistle, and red as +beet-root. Won’t do--eh! No tricks upon travellers--no case of liver. +Can’t do what you want--or what you don’t want. Did Sir Cadwallader +send you to me?” + +“No, indeed,” said George, “no human being is aware of my visit to you.” + +“Why did you make a secret of it, eh?” said Short. “Every man has a +liver; every liver is subject to disease. What’s the use of mystery?” + +“I know of no mystery,” said George. + +“Won’t do, Mr. Assistant-secretary,” said Short. “A surgeon ought to +have an eagle’s eye, a lion’s heart, and a lady’s hand. Cannot say I +have all those qualities; but as far as the eye goes, I think, I can +see as far as my neighbours--eh!” + +“I don’t know what you should make a merit of seeing,” said George. “I +have no disguises--I wish to be candid with you.” + +“Ah!” said Short, “now I see. You want to tell me you have nothing +the matter with you: and yet you want me to give you a sick +certificate--eh!--that’s it--umph!” + +“My dear doctor,” said George, “I believe you _do_ know something of my +feelings, for you certainly have guessed my wishes. I am _not_ ill,--at +least in body; but I may be saved from being ill in body, in mind, in +reputation, and in conscience, if you will but grant your fiat for +shipping me to England.” + +“_I_ know,” said Short, “you are as safe in _my_ care as a baby on her +mother’s bosom:--but I say--those grey eyes and black eyelashes are +the devil!--aren’t they?--umph!--sweet creature! Come, no nonsense, or +you get no certificate. You know it is all mighty fine your coming to +me, looking as mysterious as a playhouse conspirator: everybody here, +except your two selves, and perhaps Sir Cad. knows the whole story.” + +“What story?” said George:--“no word has ever passed my lips--” + +“No: but a great many have passed the lips of other people,” said +Short. “As for your own words, they are what we call superfluous--the +eyes have it--eh!--umph!” + +“What you say, doctor,” said George, “makes me miserable.” + +“Very!” said Short. “I know--it makes every man miserable to have +gained the affections of a charming, amiable girl, with a hundred +and fifty thousand pounds:--it is quite a calamity! Poor Mr. +Assistant-secretary!--you can’t think how I pity you!” + +“Doctor, this is no joking matter,” said George. “It is useless, I +perceive, to attempt disguise with _you_: you have seen or heard +what I never suspected could have been even remarkable. If I wished +your assistance upon this point when I came into this room, it is ten +thousand times more desirable to me now.” + +“Umph!” said Short. “Why?” + +“Why!” exclaimed George:--“we have so suddenly and deeply plunged into +this discussion; you assume so much, and I have such perfect faith and +confidence in you, that--” + +“You are good enough to propose telling me what I know already,” +interrupted Short. + +“No, not what you know already,” said George, “but what my resolution +is. The general, in the outset of my career here, befriended me, +espoused my cause, restored me to society, and made me what I am. I am +admitted into his family, and I evince my gratitude to him for all his +kindnesses by--” + +“--By permitting his daughter to fall in love with you!” said +Short:--“how can _you_ help that?” + +“If such should be the case,” said George, “it is my duty instantly to +quit this place.” + +“To be sure!” said Short--“and add to all the other marks of your +sense of the General’s obligations by leaving his only darling child to +break her heart.” + +“Do not talk in this way, doctor,” said the assistant secretary, “it is +I”-- + +“Pshaw!” said Short. “No nonsense: stay where you are--I’ll give you no +certificate.” + +“Then I must go without one,” said George. “Private business in +England”-- + +“Very private, indeed!” said Short. “I say, stay where you are.” + +“My dear friend,” said George, “it is impossible! What you have told me +now, in addition to a remark which I accidentally overheard, renders it +imperatively necessary that I should go. It is the only favour I have +ventured to ask of you, or of any man since I have been here: grant me +the certificate, let me show it to Sir Cadwallader, and tear myself +away from the only place in the world where I care to live.” + +“Oh!” said Short, putting his finger to his nose--“mutual, I see. Umph!” + +“I did not say--” + +“Yes, you did,” said Short. “How do you know Sir Cad. will let you go?” + +“If he could,” said George, “which for worlds I would not he should, +even fancy what is passing in this room, he would--” + +“What!” said Short--“do you think he does not know what is passing in +your mind and that of Miss Ellen’s?” + +“What _is_ passing in our minds?” asked George. + +“_Our_ minds!” said Short--“umph!--that’s it--_our_ minds! The glorious +_we_ of literature is not more commanding than the ‘our’ of you two. +Why, you are over head and ears in love with each other, and you +cannot help showing it wherever you are. I know the symptoms, Mr. +Assistant-secretary--have had the complaint myself: so has Sir Cad.--a +great practitioner in _that_ way:--d’ye think he is blind?” + +“I know he is everything that is kind and good,” said George. + +“Well, then, perhaps his goodness and kindness may go the length of +wishing you to be his son-in-law,” said Short. + +“Impossible!” said George--“a creature he has made--” + +“Umph!” said Short,--“don’t see how that interferes--eh! You had better +talk to _her_ of your heart than to _me_ of your liver. See what _he_ +says--or, if you don’t like that, _I_ will.” + +“Doctor!” said George, looking extremely fierce. + +“I will,” said Short;--“that is to say, I shall tell his Excellency +officially that you have applied for a sick certificate; and, if you’ll +trust to me, I’ll work it to the best advantage. If Sir Cad. is crusty, +you shall have it. A pain in the side makes no show:--I can’t tell +whether you have a pain in your side or not. If he demur to your going, +you shall be in excellent health; if he frown, and expresses a wish +that way, you shall be shipped for Cheltenham in a fortnight.” + +“I knew,” said George, “you would be my friend.” + +“I _am_ your friend,” said the doctor, “therefore I want you to stop. +You have enemies here as well as your betters. Your going would be +a triumph to some half-dozen of the fellows who have been dangling +after Miss Ellen for the last two years, and who have never got +so much as a smile from her for their pains. No, no: mark me, Mr. +Assistant-secretary;--put the affair into my hands, and you shall have +the sick certificate when _I_ think you want it, and not before.” + +George, it must be confessed, was incalculably surprised at the evident +notoriety of an attachment of which he even fancied himself unconscious +only a few days before. That the lookers-on see more than the players, +is generally said, and here was a proof of the correctness of the +saying: the very circumstance, however, of its having become a topic of +general conversation strengthened, as we have seen, his determination +to put an end to the scandal through the aid of his friend Short. + +Had he not been bound to his military duty by military law, his retreat +could have been easily managed; but it was absolutely necessary that +the very man from whom he wished to keep his motives for going, secret, +should be the person, and the only person, who could dispense with +his services, and grant him leave to put his plan into execution. +As it was, he had only to trust to the doctor, whose proceedings he +endeavoured to accelerate by pointing out to him the dangers of delay. + +That he was not slow to act, George soon discovered. At dinner the +next day Sir Cadwallader began to throw out hints that he was aware +of George’s intention of applying for the certificate, and in general +terms censured the conduct of commanding officers who, by permitting +themselves to be parties to a deception practised under the connivance +of medical officers, committed themselves as accomplices to what, after +all, however strong the phrase might sound, was little better than a +deliberate fraud. + +“There’s jobbing all over the world,” said his Excellency. “One is +never safe. Any fellow that wants to shirk duty, makes friends with the +doctor, and out comes a sick certificate.--What’s the matter?--liver, +to be sure! As Short says, ‘Who can see a pain in the side?’” + +Nobody spoke, because nobody exactly comprehended what his Excellency +meant by this gratuitous observation, except George, who felt himself +get extremely red in the face,--a very natural consequence of being +talked _at_ by a commander-in-chief. Ellen did not know to whom the +observation referred, and looked round the table to see if any of the +half-dozen guests were affected. Her look rested on George: their +eyes met: they both became suddenly embarrassed, and Sir Cadwallader, +who was good at a long shot, saw the glance and the response, which +confirmed his suspicions, and decided his course of conduct. + +The evening of this day was passed as agreeably as the evening before, +but Ellen felt a difference in George’s manner towards her: she could +scarcely define what it was, or how to account for it, and yet it +somehow connected itself in her mind with her father’s hypothetical +observation at dinner. The guests departed, unregretted by either of +the lovers, for so, unconsciously they were; and the party was reduced +to a trio, composed of Sir Cadwallader, Ellen, and the assistant +military secretary, who always lingered last of the throng, were it +never so late. + +“So,” said Sir Cadwallader, after a short pause, “I suppose, Mr. +Brown, you felt the force of my little remark at dinner about sick +certificates--eh! I hope you did--it was meant expressly for _you_.” + +“Sir!” faltered George, anticipating the burst of displeasure which he +was assured would follow this announcement. + +“Yes, sir,” said his Excellency, “I understand you have been applying +to Short for one of those melancholy testimonials of ill health, with a +liver as sound as a roach, and the constitution of a ploughman.” + +“I assure your Excellency,” said George, “that--I am not capable of +deception upon any point:--I”-- + +“I don’t know what you call deception, Mr. Brown,” said Sir +Cadwallader; “you are in good health, and you want the doctor to say +you are sick, in order to quit your duty, and leave those who wish you +well.” + +Ellen, who began to feel extremely uneasy, and think her presence at +such a scene was scarcely necessary, rose to depart. + +“Stay, Miss,” said the General--“wait to hear what the gentleman has to +say for himself.” + +“Really, papa,” said Ellen-- + +“Really, Miss,” said the General--“recollect I am commanding officer +here: obey orders--sit you down, Miss. If you wished for leave of +absence, Mr. Brown, why not have applied to me upon any fair ground? I +hate shamming--eh!” + +“It is impossible,” said George, “for me either to extenuate or explain +my fault. It is now known to you, sir:--there can be no difficulty in +my going _now_.” + +“Why so, sir?” said his Excellency. + +“You have exhibited my thoughtless--my ungrateful conduct, in its +proper light,” said George: “I cannot--indeed, I cannot remain longer +with you.” + +“Suppose, sir, I cannot spare you,” said the General. + +“_My_ services, sir,” said, or rather sobbed, George, “are of no +importance. I--” + +“That’s matter of opinion,” said the General. “But suppose _I_ could +manage without you--look at that young lady there--d’ye think _she_ +could spare you?” + +“Oh, father!” said Ellen, who had sat trembling, and cold, and pale, +during the conversation--“I--don’t wish to interfere.” + +“You don’t!” said Sir Cadwallader--“not interfere!--you _do_ wish to +interfere, Miss. Lord bless your heart! Elly,--haven’t I been young +myself--eh? No, no, you can’t cheat _me_, cunning as you are:--you +love this fellow, and he loves _you_.” + +“Father!” said Ellen. + +Brown said nothing, but looked as if the world was on the point of +annihilation. + +“Don’t contradict me, Elly,” said the General: “where’s the +harm?--where’s the wrong? When I heard George’s story, I was resolved +to restore him to his proper place in society. I brought him into +my house--into my family--and you have fallen in love with each +other:--that’s _my_ affair. What then? When I first knew your poor dear +mother--the best of women and of wives!--what was I?--a subaltern--the +second son of a grocer at Gloucester. That was it, George--her mother +was an heiress.--It sounds vain now--she fell in love with me, as +I did with _her_. Well, I became possessed of her fortune; _that_ +enabled me to purchase up in my profession: and if it had not been +for that, I might have been now a hoary-headed lieutenant, or at best +a captain of sixty-two, going through my daily ‘Halt--left wheel,’ +till my legs ached, instead of being here a titled and decorated +commander-in-chief. What has that dear woman to whom, under Providence, +I owe everything, left me?--this girl--this child of my heart--the +dearest--the only object of my affections! Half a glance tells me the +state of the case.” + +Ellen sat with her eyes fixed upon her father--George’s filled with +tears--and what gem is brighter than a soldier’s tear so shed? + +“Your conduct, sir,” said the General, “has done you the greatest +honour. I appreciate it in the highest degree. But it won’t do--go +you do not. If my Elly here is foolish enough to sympathize with her +father in his predilections, and chooses to give her heart to an +ensign without a shilling, what am I to do?--why, I’ll tell you, Mr. +Brown,--religiously to realize whatever wishes she may entertain, for +the sake of her beloved mother, and to take care that she does not make +a foolish match with somebody not half so worthy of her.” + +“My dear father,” said Ellen-- + +“_Tace, tace!_ daughter of mine,” said Sir Cadwallader:--“don’t +coquet,--don’t try to deceive me. George, come here:--I am +serious--take her hand, my good, excellent fellow! You, who have been +so admirable a son, cannot fail to make a good husband. This is my firm +conviction.” + +“But, sir,” said Miss Adamthwaite, rising, “I”-- + +“Oh!” said the general, “you don’t like him! Oh! that, indeed, is a +different affair:--then I am out in my reckoning, and there’s an end of +the business.” + +“I didn’t say,” said Ellen,--and bursting into tears, she caught her +father round the neck, and her head dropped upon his shoulder. + +“Come here, George,” said Sir Cadwallader--“come here!--take her from +me! I know what she means:--she is your’s!”--“I have neither chick nor +child but this beloved one!” continued the General, who seemed to have +caught the infection of weeping--“I have nobody to please but her and +myself. I think I have taken the surest method of doing both. I hate +fine speeches--I don’t want thanks--so, my dear souls, God bless you +both! I’m off--a syllable more from me would spoil it all. Talk over +your own matters. Let these be the last tears I ever see you shed; +and to-morrow the babblers, and tattlers, and scandal-mongers, shall +have the pleasure of hearing how the old general has been fool enough +to give his only daughter to a penniless subaltern! Good night! my +children--good night!” + +Saying which, away went Sir Cadwallader, leaving the affianced lovers +in a state of doubt whether they were awake or in a dream. George gazed +on the blushing girl, even yet doubting whether she would fulfil her +father’s intentions. Their eyes met:--those doubts vanished. Words were +inadequate to the expression of their feelings:--he caught her in his +arms and pressed her to his panting heart:--at which particular moment, +Major Mopes, military secretary to his Excellency Sir Cadwallader +Adamthwaite, and Captain Narcissus Fripps, his Excellency’s senior +aide-du-camp, passed along the varhandah, into which all the doors and +windows of his Excellency’s drawing-room opened. + +This exhibition of mutual tenderness was, it must be admitted, +something likely to make a commotion in a small circle. It, however, +produced effects upon the military secretary and the aide-du-camp +of a totally different character. Major Mopes, who had the highest +opinion of George, and whose praises of his conduct had mainly +conduced to create the interest which the general took in him, was +horror-stricken. The idea that _he_ had been chiefly instrumental in +bringing him into Sir Cadwallader’s family, the happiness of which he +was now so evidently attempting to destroy, filled him with regret and +indignation: all he hoped was, that his companion, Captain Fripps, +might not have seen all that _he_ had witnessed. He felt that if the +secret were confined to himself, George might yet be saved; that an +appeal to his sense of honour and right feeling would induce him +immediately to withdraw himself from a sphere so dangerous as that in +which he now was moving,--little thinking that George had decided upon +doing so a week before. + +The aide-du-camp, however, _had_ seen the sight--which so startled him, +that he, like the major, but from very different motives, did not speak +a word. At the end of the varhandah they parted for the night, during +which, while Major Mopes lay considering how he might best save George +and Ellen, and smother the whole affair, the captain was arranging the +manner in which it would be best to communicate the circumstance to the +general so as to obtain the greatest possible credit for himself, and +secure the immediate dismissal of his apparently favoured rival in the +general’s consideration. For which purpose, the ingenuous and ingenious +gentleman, instead of going to bed, as was his original intention, +returned to the barracks and to the quarters of his bosom friend, +Ensign Honeyman, whom he had just left, in order to avail himself of +his advice: thus, in the very first instance, himself doing all the +mischief to Ellen’s character and reputation, the preservation of which +from injury was to be made the ostensible ground of his communication +of the fact to her father. + +Honeyman, who was the inseparable companion of Fripps, agreed entirely +with his friend on the course to be pursued in order to overthrow +Brown; and it was accordingly settled that the captain should, the +very first thing in the morning, make a confidential report to his +Excellency of what had occurred. + +Meanwhile the unconscious lovers, whose parting kiss formed the subject +of contemplation for both the gallant heroes, were thinking of each +other and of the happiness which had taken them so completely by +surprise, that they could scarcely think what had passed during the +evening anything but a bright, yet baseless vision. The old general was +the only one of the inmates of the house who slept soundly. He went to +bed to rest upon the consciousness of having made two people happy--of +having realised his intentions of providing for George--and gratified +his wish of giving Ellen the man to whom, insensibly and unconsciously, +she had become devotedly attached:--and, above all this, he revelled +in the pleasure of having found out their secret, and anticipated any +communication on the subject from either of themselves:--add to this, +his just appreciation of George’s anxiety to quit the only place in the +world which was dear to him--to surrender all the worldly advantages it +afforded, to preserve the being he loved from the anger of her parent, +the malice of her _friends_--or, putting it as an extreme case, the +ills of a marriage with a man who would have nothing but an ensign’s +half-pay, even if, under the circumstances, he could secure that--and +the amount of Sir Cadwallader’s self-gratulation may be in some degree +ascertained. + +The gun had scarcely announced the dawn of day when Captain Narcissus +Fripps was up and stirring; there was no time to be lost. It was his +turn to ride with the general before breakfast; the opportunity would +be favourable; the success of the disclosure was unquestionable. The +getting rid of George was his great object; for the captain’s jealousy +of the interloper, as he considered him, was not so much excited by his +evident success with the young lady, as by the favourable estimation +in which the young lady’s father held him and his character: and when +jealousy takes possession of the mind, it leaves room for no other +passions but such as may be made subservient to its own ends, and which +may be called into action for its own revengeful gratification. + +Lavater says, that “he, who being master of the fittest moment to crush +his enemy, magnanimously neglects it, is born to be a conqueror.” +Captain Narcissus Fripps, whatever heroic deeds he might have been +destined to do in other days, did by no means display this evidence +of future success; and although George was neither his, nor any other +man’s enemy, he resolved that two hours should not elapse before he was +irrecoverably ruined in Sir Cadwallader’s estimation. + +The captain was a fair, sickly-looking man, always extremely well +dressed, his hair assiduously ringleted on his cheeks and over his +forehead. He wore divers rings upon his fingers, and sundry chains +around his neck; his clothes fitted him as if they were his skin. His +voice was drawling, and he lisped a little. When he talked, he pawed +the air with his hands flappingly, something after the fashion of a +kangaroo; and when he wished to be particularly lively, playfully +patted the arm of the person with whom he was conversing, affecting +himself always to be excessively shocked at everything that everybody +said to him: in short, nobody could exactly make him out. He was +considered excessively fine--evidently fancied himself a beauty, and +was not quite free from a suspicion of aiding nature in the getting up +of his complexion, by borrowing a tinge from art. + +To have been treated neglectfully by a young lady of Ellen’s +qualifications, and that she should so readily have permitted such +marked advances on the part of one so unquestionably his inferior in +rank and station, (for the Fripps’ blood had been ennobled in a remote +degree from Narcissus,) was galling beyond measure; although his +attentions to Miss Adamthwaite had never gone much farther than singing +to her by moonlight, accompanying himself on the guitar, or making her +a pair of card-racks, or painting a couple of rose-buds on the top +of a cotton box. If she sometimes worked at those often-mentioned, +indescribable strips of muslin which engage the attention of modern +fine ladies, he would thread her needle for her; and in winding off +silk on his thumbs he was most assiduous and skilful. It was therefore +the indignity which he considered the circumstance to involve, rather +than the jealousy of a lover, which urged him on to ruin George. _His_ +fate, however, was sealed, and when the horses were at the door, +Captain Narcissus felt his heart beat with anxiety for the discovery. +“Lie still, little flutterer,” said he, as he pressed his hand to his +bosom; and mounting his steed, rode slowly off with his Excellency the +Commander of the forces, to make their accustomed matutinal excursion. + +Horseback, it must be confessed, whether the pace be a walk, trot, +amble, canter, or gallop, is not altogether suitable or convenient for +confidential communication; and when the captain found the general +resolved upon adopting the penultimate pace of those enumerated, he +felt the difficulty of breaking the business to him insuperable. +Indeed, Sir Cadwallader was not particularly partial to his +aide-du-camp’s society, and preferred, when circumstances permitted, +the company of Major Mopes, who, upon the morning in question, +stayed at home to counteract, if possible, the ill effects of the +representation which the captain went abroad expressly to make. + +After a start of a mile or so, Sir Cadwallader pulled up, and suggested +to the captain that they should dismount, and walk up to a rising +ground on the other side of a fordable nullah, in order to get a view +of the town at a point from which Miss Adamthwaite had made a drawing, +but which the general had himself never happened to visit. This was +more fortunate for Narcissus than even _he_ could have hoped; the +place--the subject--all naturally tended to the point he had in view. +The “little flutterer” would lie still no longer: the aptness of the +opportunity delighted him, and he was decided to avail himself of it +forthwith. + +“Were you here with Ellen when she made the sketch?” said Sir +Cadwallader. + +“Oh! dear, no, general,” said Fripps, “I never come out upon sketching +parties with ladies: I shouldn’t think of doing such a thing.” + +“I don’t see the harm of it,” said his Excellency. “In Italy, Ellen +used to pass the greatest part of the day in drawing from Nature: it +would have been dull work if she had thought it necessary to have +remained always alone.” + +“Oh, dear Italy!” said Narcissus, sighing and turning up his eyes--“the +climate is so charming there.” + +“Climate makes no great difference in conduct,” said Sir Cadwallader. + +“No, to be sure,” said the captain, “but--I am so very particular, I +never presume on the good-nature of the dear ladies. Indeed what I see +going on with other people sometimes shocks me--not only on account of +my own feelings as they regard delicacy, but as far as the honour and +happiness of those I esteem and respect are concerned.” + +“Honour and happiness!” said the General,--“what the deuce have honour +and happiness to do with a water-colour drawing?” + +“Oh! dear no, general,” said the captain, pawing the air, “I did not +say they had; but--perhaps to the artist they may be something.” + +“I hope, if you mean Ellen,” said Sir Cadwallader, “they have a great +deal to do with her.” + +“Really, general,” said Fripps, “I don’t know what to say; but I have +something to tell you which you ought to know.” + +“Why, then, out with it, Fripps,” said Sir Cadwallader. + +“Oh! I can’t tell you all at once,” said the captain. “I know you will +be very angry--but I’m sure I ought to tell you: and yet I don’t know +how I shall ever be able to do such a thing!” + +“What! is there a plot brewing, or a mutiny hatching?” said the General. + +“Oh! no sir,” said Fripps, “it is nothing public; it is----oh, I can’t +tell you!” + +“Why,” said the General, “I am not very particular as to time; only as +you have begun, you may as well go on.” + +“Oh, it’s so very fie-fie! Sir Cadwallader,” said Narcissus. + +“Very what?” said his Excellency. + +“Very naughty, sir,” replied the aide-du-camp. + +“Who is it about?” asked his Excellency. + +“That is what I’m almost afraid to say,” continued Fripps. “I never +was so shocked in my life!--I declare I did not recover myself for two +hours after.” + +“After what?” said the General:--“do speak out.” + +“I don’t know how to explain,” said Fripps, wringing his hands like + + “Some sad widow o’er her babe deploring”-- + +“but I’ll endeavour.” + +“Is it anything about my daughter?” said Sir Cadwallader, who, +although unaware that any scene had taken place, had long remarked the +aide-du-camp’s growing dislike of George. + +“La, General!--you are such a man,” said Fripps, “I declare, you seem +to know everything by intuition.” + +“Well,” said his Excellency, “what has she been doing?” + +“I know I shall never be able to explain it quite,” said Fripps; +“but--I--think I may mention that--people think--I--that is, Mr. +Brown--is--rather too free--and particular--and--” + +“Umph!” said Sir Cadwallader. “If _I_ don’t find fault, and _she_ +does not find fault with his attentions,--that is, if he does pay +her particular attention,--there is no great harm in _that_, Captain +Fripps.” + +“No, sir,” said the captain; “but I’m sure you cannot guess. It is no +fault of Miss Ellen’s--that I am certain of:--but--you have no idea. +Oh! upon my word--that Mr. Brown--I speak, you know, in confidence to +you, sir--but--he is such a rude man.” + +“Rude!” said Sir Cadwallader--“do you think so? As far--” + +“Ah! that’s where it is,” said Fripps, pawing and ambling about--“I +can’t--it is something so very fie-fie--only you ought to know it: +but, I declare, I don’t know how to say it out.” + +“When did all this occur?” said Sir Cadwallader. + +“I haven’t lost a moment in telling your Excellency,” said Fripps: +“what I saw happened last night.” + +“Oh!” said the General--(every doubt of George’s honourable conduct +having been released by learning the date of the affair, whatever it +was, which had shocked the delicacy of the exquisite Narcissus)--“was +it very bad?” + +“I never did such a thing myself in all my life, Sir Cadwallader,” said +Fripps; “and, upon my honour! I am sorry to have seen it: it has quite +upset me.” + +“You didn’t catch them in what the book-makers call ‘an interesting +situation,’ Captain Fripps, did you?” said Sir Cadwallader. + +“La! General, you are such a man,” said Fripps. “I declare, how you +guessed it I cannot think--but you are right: so the moment I saw it, +I said to myself--well! if ever--Oh! gracious--to think of the man that +his Excellency has raised to his present station!--to think of--” + +“That will do, captain,” said the General. “I am quite aware of the +excellence of your intentions, and I thank you for your excessive care +of Ellen’s interest and prospects:--now let us look at the prospect +before us.” + +“Well!” said Fripps to himself, “if ever I saw such a man!”--“To think, +you know, of that nasty, great, coarse creature, Brown--well, if ever +I--” + +“I think she has done it remarkably well,” said the general, putting +his hand varhandah-wise over his eyes, to look at the beautiful +panorama before them. + +“What, sir?” said Fripps, ambling about and twiddling his curls. + +“The view,” replied the General. “That bungalow in the foreground is a +beautiful object, and she has made the most of it. It is odd enough, +often as I have been on the Mulligopatemy road, I never was here +before.” + +Fripps looked at his Excellency with amazement, and almost began to +repent not having himself been more lively with Miss Ellen, to whose +reputed fortune Narcissus would have had no earthly objection, even +encumbered with the lady herself. + +“And so,” said Sir Cadwallader, returning to the subject, “you +surprised _my_ daughter and my assistant military secretary in an +interesting situation--eh?” + +“Upon my word, General, it was not intentional on my part,” said +Fripps. “I had just been taking some of Hoffman’s capillaire and water, +and a sponge biscuit with Ensign Honeyman at his quarters, where we had +been singing some little Sicilian duets to the guitar by moonlight, and +time flew so quickly, that it was near eleven o’clock before we thought +of separating. When I came home I met Major Mopes at the gate, and we +went together through the varhandah, and there--I really--I assure you +it is the first time I ever saw such a thing--but there--there--Oh! how +shall I describe the scene?” + +“You saw Mr. Brown kiss my daughter, perhaps:--I understand perfectly,” +said the General:--“that’s enough, Captain Fripps; we will settle +_that_ gentleman’s affair after breakfast. So, come, let us take to our +horses, and finish our ride.” + +It must be admitted that Captain Fripps felt disagreeably disappointed +by the manner in which his Excellency received his account of the +glaring indecorum which he had overseen; but he knew that he was a +man of few words, with great promptitude and decision of action, and +he still encouraged the hope of seeing his antipathy--the assistant +military secretary, most unceremoniously expelled the house in the +course of the morning. + +Differently, indeed, had the friendly Major Mopes been engaged during +the same period. He had seen and conversed with George, who, it must be +admitted, elated as he was by the wonderful piece of good-fortune which +had befallen him, indulged his playfulness of disposition by leading +the major by a very circuitous route to the real state of the case; +indeed he dexterously avoided coming to the point till he perceived, +by his worthy friend’s manner and countenance, that he must not carry +the joke much further. When he had explained all, and, to establish +the certainty of his statement, presented the military secretary to +Ellen Adamthwaite herself, in the character of her affianced lover, the +major’s gratification and joy were complete. + +The breakfast, it must be owned, was a trial to the principal +performers. Ellen, of course, had been informed by George of the +discovery of their parting embrace by the two staff-officers--Mopes +still thinking that Narcissus, who was generally occupied by thoughts +of himself, had not seen equally clear with himself. + +The moment arrived; the general entered the breakfast-room. Curries, +rice, Bombay ducks, Java red fish, eggs, European ham, hump and kabobs, +were thickly intermingled with grapes, strawberries, mangoes, and +plantains. The grateful fumes of coffee filled the atmosphere; and the +tea, unchilled by the waving Punkah, sparkled in its cups. Ellen took +her seat with downcast eyes, after having received a certain number +of paternal kisses from his Excellency; and Captain Narcissus Fripps, +after having shaken hands with George Brown, deposited himself at the +end of the table, directly opposite the gallant yet melancholy Mopes, +major and military secretary. + +As the meal proceeded, Fripps could not help noticing certain looks +which were passing between his four companions, especially as even +the countenance of the major was every now and then illuminated by a +cursory expression more nearly approaching to a smile than he had ever +seen them before. The General looked at George; George looked at Ellen; +and Ellen, affecting to repress his intelligent glances by a half-comic +seriousness, was blushing crimson. + +Captain Narcissus Fripps began to feel exceedingly awkward and +embarrassed. It was clear that his companions were in a confederacy, +and that he was, by general consent, “basketed.” Very few words were +spoken, and nobody seemed inclined to break the silence. Narcissus +felt assured that the General had availed himself of the first moment +after their return home to lecture his daughter upon the dreadful +impropriety which he had witnessed; but this he could hardly reconcile +with the fact that Brown was placed next her at table, and permitted +to look and talk to her, little or much, as suited his fancy; while +the eyes of Ellen plainly exhibited the existence of an intelligence +between them--which eyes _will_ exhibit in the just degree to which +such intelligence extends. + +It all at once struck the captain, that upon a principle not +unfrequently acted upon,--of doing what in certain circles is called, +“wiping it up, and saying nothing about it,” the General meant to +take no public notice of the event which he had communicated, but +that, instead of kicking the assistant military secretary out of the +house, he would give him some detached appointment, which would have +the effect of removing him from his present sphere of action, and his +nomination to which, would be attributed to the General’s continued +and unchanged regard for him, rather than as a manœuvre to separate +him from his daughter. This idea the gentle Narcissus cherished; and +perfectly conscious that the embarrassment in which they all appeared +involved must have arisen from his solicitude for the peace and honour +of the family, and coupling these effects with the absence of all +remark from the General, touching the matter, he resolved to act upon +the same principle, assimilate his conduct to that of Sir Cadwallader, +and take the first occasion to make him sensible of the caution he +proposed to adopt, and the course he intended to pursue. + +It ought to be mentioned that Captain Fripps was not a very great +favourite with anybody at head-quarters. The major indeed called him +“Molly Fripps,” and that too in a sad and solemn tone; and George was +quite aware that he affected to despise _him_. The stiffness of the +breakfast-party would not of itself, therefore, have startled him, but +the character of the stiffness of this particular morning puzzled him +exceedingly; for although little was said, so much more was looked than +usual, that never did captain more greatly rejoice than did this of +ours, when the repast was terminated by the departure of Ellen. + +The young lady’s exit was shortly followed by those of the major and +George, and once again the aide-du-camp was alone with the General. + +“Well, captain,” said Sir Cadwallader, “I suppose you think my conduct +very strange.” + +“No, upon my honour! not, sir,” said Fripps: “I quite appreciate it--so +considerate--and so wise--and so like your Excellency.” + +“I am glad you approve of it,” said the General:--“but who told you the +history of my proceedings since our return home?” + +“Oh! nobody told me,” said the captain; “I would not talk about it to +anybody for the world.” + +“Then how have you acquired the knowledge of what I have done, and what +I propose to do?” said his Excellency. + +“I conclude,” said Fripps, “that your Excellency means to take no +notice of what I told you, to the parties themselves, but get rid of +Mr. Brown in some way or other, so as to prevent the _eclat_.” + +“Prevent the _eclat_ of an affair known to two or three people!” +exclaimed the General--“no, no.” + +“I protest, sir,” said Fripps, “it shall never pass my lips: I have too +much regard for Miss Adamthwaite. It would be very shocking, I know, to +let it spread; but my duty to _you_, as well as my esteem for _her_, +would keep me silent as the tomb upon the subject.” + +“You need not restrain yourself, Captain Fripps,” said Sir Cadwallader, +“on _my_ account or hers.” + +“I know, sir,” said Fripps, “that you have been so kind and good to Mr. +Brown; and what a shocking vice ingratitude is!--And to think of his +venturing to embrace any young lady, and especially your daughter!” + +“Did you ever hear an old song that I used to sing when I was a sub.,” +said the general:-- + + “‘My mother having heard that Colin he had kiss’d me, + Proposed to the youth that to-morrow we should wed: + To church then we went, paid the parson his fees, + And so got holy licence to kiss when we please.’” + +“Oh! dear, no,” said Fripps, shuddering, and pawing, and making +curtseying bows, “I never heard such a song as _that_ in all my life.” + +“Well, it may serve to enlighten you then,” said the General. “What +if Ellen Adamthwaite and George Brown are about to do a similar +thing--what should you say _then_?” + +“What!” exclaimed the captain--“you _don’t_ mean, sir,--that--” + +“I do mean so,” said Sir Cadwallader. + +“What! that delicate fair creature,” said Fripps, in a soliloquizing +tone, “to--” + +“--Yes, is likely very soon to become _Brown_, Captain Fripps,” said +the General. + +“Why, then, the discovery I made--” + +“Was nothing very important after all,” said the General. “Your +kindness and consideration for her and me are nevertheless equally +admirable; only if you had not gone back to your friend Mr. Honeyman’s +quarters, and told _him_ what you had seen, before you mentioned it to +_me_, our obligations perhaps would have been somewhat greater.” + +“Well, I declare, Sir Cadwallader,” said Fripps, “I only told him +because I--” + +“Because you happened to be sure of finding _him_ up,” said the +General, “and you were not so sure of getting hold of anybody else at +that time to whom to give the interesting information.” + +“Oh dear, dear!--I shall never be able to look at Miss Ellen again,” +said the captain. “I admit it was--how could you have known it, +sir?--dear me!--what a deceitful toad Honeyman must be to have betrayed +me.” + +“We will not discuss the matter any further,” said the General. “I +agree with _you_ that it would be irksome for you to associate with my +daughter and her husband after what has occurred, and therefore you +have my full permission to resign your aide-du-campship, and join your +regiment. I am a plain, blunt man, as you know, and of few words.” + +“Oh, dear Sir Cadwallader!” said Fripps, “do not force me to leave you: +everything may be arranged, and I--” + +“I wish you good morning, Captain Fripps,” said the General. “My +daughter bids me decline on _her_ part a scene of leave-taking, and +will not in all probability return home until after your departure. +Brown’s name will be in orders as aide-du-camp this afternoon; and, as +I am now allowed only one, you will see the necessity of marching in +‘double quick.’ Good morning.” Saying which, his Excellency retired +from the apartment, muttering humourously to himself-- + + “But never more be officer of mine.” + +“Well, if ever!” said Narcissus--“dear me--this is most uncommonly +unpleasant! I declare I could scratch that nasty creature Honeyman’s +eyes out, for such a sly trick. I’ll go to him--tax him with his +conduct:--but I am sure we shall make it up before we part; because I +am quite certain he did not mean to injure me.” + +And so Fripps went on murmuring to himself, until, to his utter +dismay, one of Sir Cadwallader’s servants made his appearance with his +Excellency’s compliments--wished to know when his “things would be +ready for moving.” This question was conclusive. The circumstance which +had occurred--the awkward position in which he had placed himself by +his tittle-tattle, and the intentions so evidently displayed in his +conduct, all conspired to induce him to exert himself in fulfilling +his Excellency’s wish for his speedy disappearance. His servant was +directed to make immediate preparations for the start; and the captain +himself proceeded to Honeyman, to reproach and bid him farewell. Their +quarrel was, as the captain had anticipated, soon reconciled; and from +the door of his dear friend’s quarters, Fripps, after eating a tiffin +of fowl-sandwiches, raspberry tarts, and barleysugar-drops, moistened +by some lemonade, took his departure to join his regiment at Bombay. + +It is strange how much the loss of one, to a constant association with +whom we have become habituated, affects us. Ellen, who cared no more +for Narcissus than for any other officer in his Majesty’s service, +naval or military, and in all human probability much less, could not +look at his vacant place at tiffin without a feeling of regret. Perhaps +this feeling, considering the consequences his removal involved, as far +as regarded his worldly circumstances, might have been strengthened by +the recollection that, however innocently, unconsciously certainly, +and most unintentionally, she herself had been the cause of his +ejection. Certain it was, she was out of spirits, and George saw she +was. He could not help feeling uneasy at the symptoms he observed, but +his anxiety was considerably relieved when he had ascertained that +his _friend_ was actually gone, and saw that Ellen, when her George +filled his chair at dinner, was as much at her ease as she could be, +knowing that the events which had occurred during the day were most +undoubtedly forming the topic of conversation at every other table in +the presidency. + +We must not bestow sufficient space upon the episode of our history, to +dwell at length upon the proceedings at head-quarters until the day of +George’s marriage to Ellen was fixed. When the matrimonial termination +to their acquaintance was announced as decided and inevitable, the +public opinion of the forty or fifty estimable ladies and gentlemen, +who formed the public of the place, turned wonderfully in favour of +George. He was a most agreeable person--so clever; and it was so +judicious of the General to advance merit, and consult the happiness +of his child. And at last the day came, and they were married, and +proceeded to pass the honeymoon in the picturesque bungalow which +formed the effective foreground of Ellen’s last East-Indian view. + +The happiness of this most happy pair--for so they were--was not, +however, destined to continue long uninterrupted: a sudden attack, +and short illness, deprived them in the third month of their married +life of the kind-hearted, generous parent, the founder of their +fortunes and felicity. This event, of course, decided them upon +returning to England, and induced George to retire from the army. +Having entered it, as an officer, much too late to expect in peaceable +times promotion, even by purchase, to any valuable extent, he yielded +to the solicitations of his Ellen, who had seen enough of military +life as a soldier’s daughter, not to desire a continuance of it as a +soldier’s wife. Her tastes,--her pursuits,--were those of retirement +and quiet, and the blessing of being so much her own mistress as not +to be destined by a Horse-Guards’ order to pass ten or twelve years of +her life in an East-Indian cantonment or a West-Indian barrack, was too +great to be refused. So implicit was Sir Cadwallader’s reliance upon +George, that, at the old gentleman’s death, he found himself, with some +trifling limitations, in the possession of property, real and personal, +to the amount of upwards of seven thousand a-year. + +In this position was George Brown when he returned to England; and +it may easily be imagined that the circumstances detailed in this +narrative, when related by himself to his mother and sister upon the +occasion of his first visit to them, produced in their hearts and minds +sentiments of gratitude to Providence, by which a course of events so +propitious to their beloved, deserving relative, had been ordained. + + + END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, + Dorset Street, Fleet Street. + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes + + + p.38, l.15: Removed a redundant (double) that (that he was a choice + spirit). + p.52, l.11: Removed double quotation mark at the end of the sentence + (Brag as Brag thought of himself). + p.53, l.13: Added a hyphen (hand-in-glove). + p.81, l.19: Corrected name (Ilfracombe). + p.124, l.23: Typo corrected (to explain herself). + p.160, l.13: Added a full stop (directed to A. Z.). + p.175, l.1: Typo corrected (we were only anxious). + p.256, l.2 and p.261, l.10: The author (T. Hook) uses the spelling in + Gilbert Gurney: Varhandah. + Throughout the text: keeping aide-du-camp even though it seems wrong. + Except as noted above, original spelling and punctuation have been + retained. +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78686 *** diff --git a/78686-h/78686-h.htm b/78686-h/78686-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6fe10c --- /dev/null +++ b/78686-h/78686-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8845 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + JACK BRAG. | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.p2 { text-indent: 0; padding-right: 1.5em; } + +.bigger +{ + font-size: 2em; +} + +.big +{ + font-size: larger; +} + +.small +{ + font-size: small; + text-align: center +} + +.spaced +{ + line-height: 1.5; +} + +.space-above +{ + margin-top: 3em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + + +table { + margin-left: 1em; + margin-right: auto; +} +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 0.25em; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + +blockquote { + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +figcaption {font-weight: bold;} +figcaption p {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: .2em; text-align: inherit;} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +/* .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} */ +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78686 ***</div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1> +JACK BRAG. +</h1> + + +<p class="big center">VOL. I.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p class="small"> + LONDON:<br> + PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,<br> + Dorset Street, Fleet Street. +</p> +</div> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p> + + +<p class="bigger center">JACK BRAG.</p> + +<p class="small space-above">BY THE AUTHOR OF</p> + +<p class="small">“SAYINGS AND DOINGS,”—“MAXWELL,” &c.</p> + +<p class="center space-above">IN THREE VOLUMES.</p> + +<p class="center">VOL. I.</p> + +<p class="big space-above center">LONDON:</p> + +<p class="big center">RICHARD BENTLEY,</p> + +<p class="small">NEW BURLINGTON STREET.</p> + +<p class="center">1837.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a><a id="Page_5"></a>[Pg 5]</span></p> + + + <p class="bigger center"> + JACK BRAG. + </p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I"> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“My dear Johnny,” said the respectable widow +Brag to her son, “what is the good of your +going on in this way? Here, instead of minding +the business, you are day after day galloping +and gallivanting, steeple-chasing, fox-hunting, +lord-hunting, a wasting your time and +your substance, the shop going to old Nick, and +<em>you</em> getting dipped instead of your candles.”</p> + +<p>“Mother,” said Jack, “don’t talk so foolishly! +You are of the old school,—excellent +in your way, but a long way behindhand: the +business is safe enough. You cannot suppose, +with the education I have had, I can meddle +with moulds, or look after sixes, tens, fours to +the pound, or farthing rushlights;—no, thanks +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>to my enlightenment, I flatter myself I soar +a little higher than that.”</p> + +<p>“No nonsense, Johnny!” said Mrs. Brag. +“All you have now, and all you have spent +since your poor father’s death, was gained by +your father’s enlightenment of his customers: +and how do you suppose I can carry on the trade +if you will not now and then attend to it?”</p> + +<p>“Take my advice, my dear mother,” said +Jack, “and marry. I’m old enough now not +to care a fig for a father-in-law;—marriage +is the plan, as I say to my friend Lord Tom—straight +up, right down, and no mistake. +Get a sensible, stir-about husband, who does +not mind grubbing, and hasn’t a nose——”</p> + +<p>“Hasn’t a nose?” interrupted Mrs. Brag.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean literally,” said Jack, “but +sportingly;—does not mind the particular scent +of tallow—you understand. Let him into the +tricks of the trade: you will still be queen-bee +of the hive,—make <em>him</em> look after the drones +while you watch the wax.”</p> + +<p>“And while <em>you</em>, Johnny, lap up the honey,” +said the queen-bee.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> + +<p>“Do what you like,” said her son, “only +marry—‘marry come up,’ as somebody says +in a play.”</p> + +<p>“But, John,” said Mrs. Brag, “I have no +desire to change my condition.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I that you should,” said Jack; “but +I wish you would change your name. As long +as ‘Brag, wax and tallow-chandler,’ sticks up +on the front of the house, with three dozen and +four dangling dips swinging along the shop-front, +like so many malefactors expiating their +crimes, I live in a perpetual fever lest my +numerous friends should inquire whether I +am one of the firm or the family.”</p> + +<p>“Johnny,” said Mrs. Brag, “you are a silly +fellow. What is there to be ashamed of in +honest industry? If all the fine folks whom +you go a-hunting with, and all the rest of it, +like you, and are really glad to see you, it is +for yourself alone: and if they, who must +know by your name and nature that you can +never be one of themselves, care a button for +you, your trade, so as you do not carry it +about with you, will do you no harm. What +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>difference is it to them how you get your +thorough-bred horses, your smart scarlet coat, +neat tops, and white cords, so as you have them?—they +won’t give you any new ones when they +are gone.”</p> + +<p>“It is all very well talking,” said Johnny, +“but I never should show my face amongst +them if I once thought they guessed at my +real trade. I live in a regular worry as it is. +If ever a fellow asks me if I was at Melton last +year, that moment I think of the shop—‘pretty +mould of a horse’ tingles in my ears—‘sweet +dip of the country’ sets me doubting; and, +only last week, a proposal to go ‘cross country +and meet Lord Hurricane’s harriers at +Hampton Wick nearly extinguished me.”</p> + +<p>“And what now, Johnny,” said Mrs. Brag, +“do you think these lords take you for, if not +for a tallow-chandler?”</p> + +<p>“An independent gentleman,” said Jack.</p> + +<p>“That is to say,” replied his mother, “a +gentleman who has nothing to depend upon.”</p> + +<p>“They look upon me as an agreeable rattle,” +said John.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p> + +<p>“One that has often been in the watchman’s +hands too,” said the old lady.</p> + +<p>“I talk big and ride small,” said Jack, +“I am always up with the hounds—never +flinch at anything,—am the pride of the field +wherever I go,—and in steeple-chases of infinite +value.”</p> + +<p>“And very little weight, my dear Johnny,” +interrupted his mother.</p> + +<p>“One of my dearest friends,” continued +Brag, “Lord Tom Towzle, a deuce of a fellow +amongst the females, is going to put me +up as a candidate at the Travellers.”</p> + +<p>“What, riders for respectable houses?” said +Mrs. Brag: “and a very proper club too.”</p> + +<p>“Respectable houses!” said Jack. “Poh! +not a bit of it! What! bagmen in buggies +with boxes of buttons in the boots? No, no! +the Travellers—<i lang="fr">par excellence</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Par what?” said Mrs. Brag. “What, d’ye +mean the fine Club-house in Pall Mall which +you showed me the out side of, last King’s birth +night?”</p> + +<p>“The same,” said Brag. “Now, if I had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>stuck to the naked, as Lord Tom says—told +the plain unvarnished—I never could have qualified. +Lord Tom asked me if I should like to +belong to the Travellers;—in course I said +yes—straight up, right down, and no mistake. +Well, then he asks me if I could qualify;—so +not quite understanding him, he says, ‘Have +you ever been in Greece?’—‘Yes,’ said I:—I +<em>might</em> have added ‘up to the elbows often;’ +didn’t though. Had him dead. Down he whips +my name, and calls in Sir Somebody Something +out of the street to second me.”</p> + +<p>“If you should get in there Johnny,” said +Mrs. Brag, “do get ’em to give up gas and +take to oil on illumination nights. But what +I think is, somebody is sure to find you out, +Johnny.”</p> + +<p>“Time enough,” said Jack. “I’m going it +now smooth and soft across the country, increasing +my acquaintance; falling into the society +of elegant females—women of fashion, with +beautiful faces and liberal hearts;—introduced +to three last week—proud as peacocks to everybody +else, delighted with <em>me</em>;—met them at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>Ascot—cold collation in the carriage—champaign +iced from London;—got on capital—never +was so happy in my life—hottest weather +I ever felt; spirits mounted—I was the delight +of the party—told them half a dozen stories of +myself, and made them laugh like cockatoos, +but I was bundled all of a heap by the Marquis +of Middlesdale, who had been at luncheon +with the King, who, in passing the barouche, +gave me a smack on the back you might have +heard to Egham, and cried out, ‘Jack, this is +a melting day, isn’t it?’”</p> + +<p>“He meant it, Johnny, depend upon it,” said +Mrs. Brag.</p> + +<p>“I’ve no doubt he did,” said Brag, “for it +was as hot as ever I felt it——”</p> + +<p>“—In the back shop,” interrupted his +mother. “But pray, Johnny, where do these +people think you live?”</p> + +<p>“At a great house in Grosvenor-street,” +said Jack, “next door to What-d’ye-call-’em’s +Hotel: my name is on the door, and my address +on my card.”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t live there,” said Mrs. Brag.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span></p> + +<p>“Not I,” replied the son: “I only rent +the door.”</p> + +<p>“How d’ye mean?” said his mother.</p> + +<p>“Why, I went to the man,” said Brag, +“who keeps the house. ‘Now, sir,’ said I, ‘I +want to rent four square inches of your panels’. +He was puzzled for the moment; but I +was down upon him in no time, and no mistake.—Out +I pulls from my pocket a brass +plate of those precise dimensions, whereon is +engraven ‘Mr. Brag.’—‘What will you take per +annum,’ said I, ‘to let this be screwed on to +your door, and let your servant take in my cards +and letters?’ Startled him a little at first: however, +he entered himself for the plate, acceded +to my proposition,—and so for the trifling consideration +of four guineas per annum, and a tip +to the slavey, I get the credit of five windows +in front, three stories high, in one of the best +streets in London.”</p> + +<p>“But do none of your friends ever expect to +be let in?” said Mrs. Brag.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Brag, “for a good thing now +and then,—and so they are, pretty often. Long +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>head, mother—have it here”—tapping his forehead +with his fore finger—“look simple with +my fresh colour and curly hair, but as deep as +Garrick—cannot write your X’s, Z’s with me,—else, +in course, they might expect admission. +‘Not at home,’ is always the answer. ‘Out +of town?’ is the next question;—‘Yes,’ is +the next answer.—‘Where?’ comes next.—‘Down +at his little place in Surrey.’ That +finishes it. They lodge their pasteboard and +away they go.”</p> + +<p>“Little place in Surrey!” said Mrs. Brag;—“why, +what d’ye mean?—have you a country-house +too?”</p> + +<p>“Country-house!” said Brag. “Lord bless +your dear heart, not I! Nothing but my old +lodging, on the second floor, No. 37, at the +carpenter’s, corner of Caterpillar-row, Kennington.”</p> + +<p>“And <em>that</em> you call your little place in +Surrey, do you?” said Mrs. Brag.</p> + +<p>“Yes, mother, and no fib neither,” said +Brag. “It is almost the littlest place I ever +saw in my life; and as for Caterpillar-row, if +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>it isn’t in Surrey I know nothing of going ’cross +a country.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, Johnny, Johnny,” said his respected +parent with a mingled look of sorrow and admiration, +“you never will mend till it is too +late!”</p> + +<p>“Mother,” said Jack, “now you say that, I +think I shall be too late for Lord Tom Towzle. +We are going off for Wigglesford to mark out +a line. All ready for a run: we have got no +mercy in us,—none of your bowling-green, +daisy-cutting work for us—no, we’ll try to +pick out rasping fences, bottomless brooks, and +ditches as wide as rivers;—a steeple-chase +without killing a horse or two, cracking a collar-bone, +slipping a shoulder, or pitching an +out-and-outer on the top of his conk, is no fun +in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! well, well,” said Mrs. Brag, “I wish +you would give a little time to the books and +the business: some day you’ll repent this.”</p> + +<p>“Not I, mother,” said Jack; “I can pull +up any day and marry. I never yet saw the +woman I could not win—they are all ready to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>eat me up: in course, as the book says, I +am the more wary—hang back a bit. Don’t +you see, as I get on in the world, I get up; +and if I can marry a Lady Sally or a Lady +Susan—eh! won’t that be nice!—’specially if +there happens to be an odd thirty or forty thousand +pounds tacked to the title.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t flatter yourself Johnny,” replied +Mrs. Brag, shaking her head: “<em>that</em> scheme +will never answer.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll see,” said Jack;—“I say nothing, +but you’ll see. If I were to sit down and +write an account of my adventures with the +females, I should be run after like a sight. +The females of fashion that I meet at the races +call me ‘dear Johnny’ as it is.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder you are not afraid of seeing the +ghost of your poor father,” said the widow.</p> + +<p>“What! the Governor?” cried Jack; “never +mind ghosts nor Governors, here is my Leporello. +So I’m off. Good-b’ye, dear mother!—you’ll +see me soon again,—I shall be back by +Saturday, and so keep snug Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“Where? at your town-house in Grosvenor-street,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>said the old lady, “or your little +place in Surrey?”</p> + +<p>“Neither, I take it,” said Jack, looking as +wise as a very foolish person could. “I devote +Sunday afternoon to a very select society—eh!—females +of fashion, delightful creatures, and +all that. So adieu!”</p> + +<p>Kissing the matron’s cheek, away went our +hero in order to revel in all the luxuries of +sport, and in the society which, he admitted, +kept him in a fever while he was in it: not +that the true circle of his aristocratic acquaintance +was particularly large, however +much he nominally increased it by dubbing +every man his friend with whom he had happened +to hunt in the same field or dine in a +public company of three hundred and fifty; +and every well-dressed woman a lady of fashion +whom he happened to see with the tigers in +whose set he mingled.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brag, who felt extremely anxious about +her son and herself, saw that the business was +rapidly “burning down.” The introduction +of oil had superseded wax; and since that, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>adoption of gas had superseded oil. No efforts +were made to improve the concern, and all she +heard, was of considerable drafts from the account +at the banker’s, and very small payments +into it; and Mrs. Brag, a comely, hearty-looking +body of her time of life, began to ponder +the words which her dutiful son had with little +apparent earnestness let drop, as to changing +her condition, with a view to increase the reputation +of the house and extend its sphere of action, +while the name at sight of which her son +trembled, might be withdrawn. She did not +clearly see her way in this proceeding: nor had +she either fixed her affections upon any particular +object, nor was she conscious that she +had attracted the regards of any suitable partner. +However, the notion was entertained—the +idea had been started; and how the exemplary +matron set her means to work, in order to effect +the grand object, we may, if we live long +enough, yet discover.</p> + +<p>The reader perhaps, in the few pages which +he has yet either been doomed to, or condescended +to read, has already discovered what sort of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>man Mr. John Brag is, or was. It seemed best +to give a short domestic scene in the candle-manufactory +by way of prelude to the genteel +comedy in which the gay deceiver is destined +to perform; and it will be only necessary to +keep in mind the sage yet ineffective lesson of +the dear old body to whom her affectionate son +recommended matrimony, in order duly to appreciate +the performance of her “pretty boy,” +who, spite of his colour and his curls, was +verging upon what may be called the “shady +side” of thirty.</p> + +<p>Old Mrs. Brag had, as Miss Scropps, married +at seventeen; and although, as far as my own +experience goes, I admit I never saw such a +thing, she was said to be a lady of nearly fifty-five +years of age, somewhere about the period +at which this glimpse at the history of her yet +unrecorded family begins.</p> + +<p>It may be supposed that I should apologise +for bringing the eyes, or perhaps the noses, of +my readers in contact with all the arcana of Mr. +John’s shop; but I have a reason for doing so. +I propose not merely to show by illustration how +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>very ridiculous a pretender must always be, but +to exhibit a striking instance of the retributive +justice which seems somehow to keep the +world in an equipoise, by exhibiting the wonderful +utility of which the meanest and stupidest +animal extant may prove; as <i lang="fr">vide</i> (to quote +the words of James the First, about Dæmonology) +the fable of the Lion, the Mouse, and +the Meshes.</p> + +<p>Soar we then for a moment from the gloom +of the tallow-chandler to a more charming region, +and to people of a different mould,—and +yet who, as the reader will see, may in the +course of events become connected, and intimately +too, with our sprightly gentleman in +the scarlet jacket and white cords. Let us, +therefore, betake ourselves to the <i lang="fr">boudoir</i> of one +of the most charming young widows in England, +where she is sitting <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with her +unmarried sister, talking over two absent gentlemen, +whose tempers and dispositions are the +immediate subject of their conversation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallington, the elder of the two ladies +so engaged, had been married at nineteen, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>merely to oblige her father, (who died six months +afterwards,) to a gentleman of the name which +she still bore; who, to all the other merits +which distinguished his character, emulated +in a high degree the fox-hunting propensities +of the tallow-man in the white cords of whom +we have just spoken. He was, however, rich, +and a gentleman, and had a right to make as +great a fool of himself as he pleased,—and so he +did: and the foolery began in his leaving +a beautiful wife, with a pair of eyes as black +as sloes and as bright as diamonds, alone and +moping, while he was amusing himself by following +his dogs, which dogs were following +something certainly not sweeter than themselves +across the country.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dallington, who rode about nine stone +four, one fine morning, when the scent lay +“uncommon strong,” the dogs in full cry, +the field in a state of the highest excitement, +the fox going away right on-end across a heavy +country, which would probably break the hearts +of some of the horses and the necks of some of +the riders, met with a slight accident, which in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>fox-hunting goes for very little, but which in its +proverbial or rather convivial parallel, matrimony, +goes for something more. In switching a rasper, +the exemplary and high-spirited gentleman +missed his tip and pitched right upon his head +in the middle of a ditch, where he remained +exactly long enough to make the lovely wife he +had left at home a very delightful widow.</p> + +<p>Dallington, or at least what had been Dallington +in the early part of the day, was put upon +a hurdle and taken to a farmhouse; whence +the melancholy intelligence was conveyed to +his lady, who, with all the respect she felt for +her late father’s judgment in selecting him for +her partner for life, considered the event which +had just taken place as philosophically as any +woman of strong feelings and a tender disposition +might be supposed to endure any sudden +shock which results from the death of a fellow-creature.</p> + +<p>True, most true it is, she never had felt that +sort of love for the husband forced upon her, as +a “fine match,” which a woman ought to feel +for the being who is destined (if he be fortunate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>enough) to share her hopes, her wishes, +and her happiness. Mrs. Dallington was a +creature all intellect, all vivacity, all fire; full +of arch playfulness and gaiety of heart, and as +completely the reverse of her quiet, timid, and +sensitive sister, as light of darkness, fire of +water, or any other two unmeetable opposites.</p> + +<p>There are many adages connected with love +and matrimony which it must be admitted are, +however forcible in themselves, extremely contradictory +of each other. But, in the course of +considerable experience in such matters, I am +apt to imagine that the real truth is—supposing +always exceptions to general rules—that +women are most apt to prefer men the +least like themselves; and men, <i lang="la">vice versâ</i>. It +is the pride of a little man to have a large wife; +it is the taste of a tall man to possess a short +one: a fair woman admires a dark Lothario; +while a bright-eyed brunette delights in blazing +away upon a fair Romeo. A learned man eschews +a blue partner; he relaxes into ease in the +company of his ordinarily-educated better-half, +and reposes from his graver studies in the agreeable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span>common-places of an intelligent but not +abstruse associate; while the learned lady prefers +the plodding spouse, and never desires that +he should meddle with her arts and sciences, +but merely wishes him to exert his energies in +the comfortable arrangement of their establishment, +and the acquirement of the supplies +necessary to set off her own attractions in their +most alluring form before the visitors whom +she chooses to invite.</p> + +<p>The assimilation of tempers and dispositions +by which happiness grows between married +couples is, in fact, a habit most amiable and +advantageous: the handwritings of men and +their wives become like each other in the course +of time. But whether the love of contraries in +the abstract, be or be not so general as some +observers would have it to be, certain it is +that in the particular individual case before us +it did exist.</p> + +<p>Sir Charles Lydiard had been, just about +the period at which the reader is introduced +to him, some two years paying his addresses +to the vivacious widow Dallington. He was +a man of high principle, rigid honour, polished +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>manners, and most amiable disposition; but +he was cold, reserved, and even suspicious of +the object of his affections. His suspicions, or +perhaps they might be more justly called +doubts, arose not from the slightest want of +confidence in the candour or sincerity of the +lady, but in a want of confidence in himself. +He might fairly have said to his heroine with +Steele’s hero:—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">——“Of you I am not jealous,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis my own indesert that gives me fears:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And tenderness forms dangers where they’re not.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I doubt and envy all things that approach thee.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>There he was, the constant, faithful lover, never +away from the house, sitting and sighing “like +furnace,” listening to the gaieties of Mrs. Dallington’s +conversation, a very spectre of despair, +not ill described by the English Aristophanes +in the person of one Harry Hectic, +with a bunch of jonquils in his button-hole, +looking dead and dressed, like the waxwork in +Westminster Abbey. There was no animating +him, no rousing him into a proposal; his attachment +had become habitual, and day after +day the affair went on without “progressing,” +as the Americans have it, one inch. And yet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>the widow was devoted to Sir Charles. It must +be admitted that she every morning expected +<em>the</em> question; but every evening that expectation +was blighted, and the worthy baronet returned +from his placid state of negative happiness +to his solitary home, to lie awake for hours +balancing the chances of matrimony, and +endeavouring to make up his mind to the deciding +inquiry which, if the real truth were +told, he lingeringly delayed, apprehensive that +it might meet with a negative certain not only +to kill the hopes which sometimes outweighed +his doubts, but to put an end to his acquaintance +with the charming widow altogether.</p> + +<p>While Sir Charles Lydiard remained thus +drooping in the bright sunshine of Mrs. Dallington’s +eyes, her timid sister Blanche was +undergoing a siege of a very different nature. +Far from contenting himself, to use a military +phrase, with sitting down before the +place, and establishing a corps of observation +merely to watch the enemy, Frank Rushton, +who was more madly in love than ever dandy had +been found to be for many years, had for the +last three months,—the whole period, in fact, of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>his acquaintance with her,—been assiduously +and incessantly carrying on an attack upon the +heart of his adorable Dulcinea; and, as it appeared, +with as little chance of making an impression +as her sister had of exciting Sir Charles +to an offer. In fact, the four players at this +love-game were equally divided into the fiery +and frosty; but, which in the sequel made all the +sport, as Mr. Brag would have called it, the +partners were so curiously matched, and the +icicles and sunbeams so regularly and heraldically +counter-changed, that the lovers and their +mistresses were the exact opposites of each other. +It was extremely amusing to hear the discussions +in which Sir Charles and his friend Rushton +were in the habit of indulging.</p> + +<p>“My dear Frank,” said Sir Charles, “your +affection for Blanche is madness,—the way in +which you go on, sets me in a fever: and as +for the poor young creature herself, she is absolutely +harassed out of her wits.”</p> + +<p>“So <em>you</em> think, Sir Charles,” replied Frank; +“but it strikes <em>me</em> that her sister would +not be less pleased with your society if you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>were to follow my example. Why there you +sit, moping and melancholy, as if you were on +the edge of your own grave, instead of being +on the verge of all earthly happiness: you look +and languish, sigh and say nothing, and, like +the Cardinal, ‘die, and make no sign.’”</p> + +<p>“It may be so,” said the baronet,—“I suppose +it <em>is</em> so; but I cannot,—struggle as I may with +my feelings,—I cannot overcome the doubts +which seem to me to cloud the prospect of the +felicity of which you talk so easily.”</p> + +<p>“Doubts! my dear friend,” said Rushton; +“what doubts can you have? Your doubts are, +in fact, jealousies,—and how needless! Mrs. +Dallington has been a wife,—and never was a +more exemplary wife in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Her trial was short,” said Sir Charles; +“nor should I call it a fair one,—her marriage +was not one of love.”</p> + +<p>“Then so much the greater her credit for the +conduct she observed,” said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“The struggle did not last long,” replied +Sir Charles: “her husband was killed within +eight months of their marriage.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> + +<p>“She bore her loss like a Christian,” said +Rushton.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” sighed the baronet; “it is wonderful +to behold the pious resignation of ladies in her +position.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Rushton, “if your apprehensions +overcome your affection, and your doubts +transcend your hopes, break off the acquaintance +at once,—take your hat and go—”</p> + +<p>“—And be neither missed nor inquired after, +in all probability,” said Lydiard.</p> + +<p>“There you wrong your fair friend,” said +Rushton. “She values you, esteems you, and +with a very little trouble on <em>your</em> part would +love you. Your flame is so gentle, that it +scarcely warms; and, like the fire in the grate +there, if she did not occasionally stir it with +good nature and kind looks, my belief is, it +would go out entirely.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Rushton,” said Sir Charles, “you +entirely misunderstand my character, and the +character of my affection for our charming +friend: my doubts are the ‘fruits of love.’”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p> + +<p>“A most disagreeable harvest, Lydiard,” +replied Rushton.</p> + +<p>“True,” said Sir Charles, “but I cannot +conquer them. You blame my caution and +coldness; but when I see you devoting yourself, +hand over head, if I may so say, to the +mild, quiet, timid, blushing creature, Blanche, +I cannot, since I had the honour of introducing +you to the family, but feel anxious on your account. +I don’t believe one word of all those professions +of meekness, and mildness, and modesty +of which that young lady is so profusely liberal. +I have seen her exchange looks with her sister,—while +you, blinded by your passion, have seen +nothing—which convince me that you would +do well to scrutinise and consider before you +plunge into the stormy ocean of matrimony.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Rushton, “Blanche is something +like Moore’s beautiful Nora Creena:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Few her looks, but every one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like unexpected light surprizes.’”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>“Egad!” said Lydiard, “the light I saw was +both surprising and unexpected. I have some +little experience in family telegraphs, but the +signal she threw out was one not altogether +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>complimentary to <em>you</em>, for she seemed to me to +be laughing at you.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be too sure of that, Charles,” said +Rushton. “I too have seen those telegraphic +symptoms; and my opinion is, that if <em>you</em> were +to adopt <em>my</em> style of proceeding, you would find +the widow much less attentive to her sister’s +evolutions. But no;—you have fallen into a +custom of going there day after day; you feel +at your ease, you enjoy the society and conversation +of a delightful person; and because +you have nothing to excite you to action, so +the affair goes on—not even a dash of jealousy +to create a fermentation in your cup of +nectar.”</p> + +<p>“There you mistake,” said Lydiard. “I—I—certainly +never have touched upon the subject—never +opened my lips to a human being +about it; but I am not quite so sure that it +is not jealousy which keeps me backward and +depresses me.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said Rushton; “jealous! What +of somebody who visits at the house?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Sir Charles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> + +<p>“Do you mean Sir Baggs Waddilove?” said +Rushton.</p> + +<p>“Psha—no.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps that Colonel Scramshaw?”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it.”</p> + +<p>“The Count?”</p> + +<p>“What, Swagandstraddle!—No.”</p> + +<p>“Lord Tom Towzle?”</p> + +<p>“You burn,” said Sir Charles, “as the children +say to the blinded one;—not of him, Frank—what +think you of his friend.”</p> + +<p>“What, that horrid, vulgar dog, Brag,” +said Rushton, “his toady—his spaniel?”</p> + +<p>“Upon my honour, yes,” said Sir Charles.</p> + +<p>“The deuce you are!” said Rushton; +“that’s very odd.”</p> + +<p>“It is,” said Lydiard. “I confess I am +almost ashamed of being ruffled by such a +fellow; but, somehow, Mrs. Dallington seems +so much at her ease with him, notwithstanding +his vulgarity, his glaring ignorance, and his unbounded +impertinence, that, upon my honour, +I cannot help thinking——you know women +are very odd creatures, and I——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span></p> + +<p>“You surprise me, Lydiard,” said Rushton, +“but not disagreeably. I have thought,—only +don’t mention it—that Blanche has a sort of,—eh—you +understand me—a partiality for +him—I don’t know how it is; she certainly +looks at the monster, now and then.”</p> + +<p>“What,” interrupted Lydiard, “some more +of her few unexpected lights, eh?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot understand it,” said Rushton: +“I suppose he entertains them with his absurdities, +and his nonsense, and even his vanity, +and his vulgarity. But I think we may both be +pretty secure, that neither of such women as +your widow and my Blanche could entertain +a serious thought of a fellow of whom nobody +knows anything except as Lord Tom Towzle’s +tiger, especially in a house into which Lord +Tom himself finds it particularly difficult to +get the <i lang="fr">entrée</i>.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Lydiard, “one would not think +there was much danger; and yet—yet you +<em>will</em> allow it is very odd indeed that we should +both have been struck with the same notion?”</p> + +<p>“So it is,” replied Rushton. “However, as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>far as <em>I</em> am concerned, I am determined +to fathom the affair to the bottom. I love +Blanche better than my life; but if I thought—”</p> + +<p>“Stop, stop, Rushton,” interrupted the +worthy baronet. “What has gone with your +stern reproof of my scepticism? Here are <em>you</em> +who have been just rallying me upon my doubts +with regard to the loveliest of her sex, now +coming to fathom an affair to the bottom +which implicates in your mind the sincerity +and single-heartedness of one of the purest, +gentlest Nora Creenas that ever walked with +her eyes cast down upon the earth.”</p> + +<p>“Hang the fellow!” said Rushton; “it is too +ridiculous! Besides, he is not often there. Yet, +never mind—he may do good: the smallest +wheel in a great piece of machinery has its +work to perform to keep all the rest going. +This stupid animal may serve to equalize our +passions, and make us see clearer; he will cool +<em>me</em> and warm <em>you</em>, and who knows but it may +turn out all for the best?”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Lydiard, “the fact is pretty +clear:—As we have not, even in this age of liberality, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>arrived at so great a reform of +the church as to establish the toleration +of bigamy, he can marry but one of the +ladies; and, as far as I am concerned, if my +adorable widow has a taste which would lead +her to admit the pretensions of that miserable +little animal, I am quite sure it never could be +diverted into a passion for me: and so, Mr. +Rushton, if he conquer, he is perfectly welcome +to the fruits of his triumph.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that’s it!” said Rushton: “there are +prudence, philosophy, wisdom, and half a +dozen other splendid qualities, combined! But +as for <em>me</em>, if he were to be smiled upon in +earnest by Blanche, it would be the last gleam +of sunshine one of us should see: he never +should live to enjoy the happiness of which he +had deprived me!”</p> + +<p>“Now, Rushton,” said Sir Charles, “how +unjust, how inconsiderate that is! If Blanche +smile on him and not on you, it is a clear +proof that she prefers him. Why make her +miserable by killing the little man? You +might as well shoot her poodle or wring the +neck of her canary-bird.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> + +<p>How much farther this dialogue which was +hereabouts interrupted, might have been carried, +it is not in my power to say; but sufficient +has been developed to the reader to show that +the incomparable Jack Brag, by dint of the +equivocal introduction of his master Lord Tom +Towzle, had obtained footing at least in one +respectable and agreeable house. It is, as Sir +Charles Lydiard says, a matter of impossibility +to ascertain the particular qualities or circumstances +by which women of station and talent, as +well as their inferiors in rank and intellect, are +captivated. Certain it is, that after once Mr. +Brag had been admitted to Mrs. Dallington’s +house, he was a visitor there as frequently as he +could contrive to manage it; and, as we have +seen, although his other avocations were numerous, +he had contrived to unsettle the minds +of two most respectable gentlemen of totally +different characters and dispositions, both pursuing +similar objects by different roads.</p> + +<p>We must now recur to Mr. Brag himself, +and his career in other places, into which the +bright eyes of the gay widow and her lovely +sister cannot be expected to penetrate.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II"> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>When Mr. John Brag left his respected +mother, he hurried off to the rendezvous of his +sporting friends, whence they proceeded in a +body to mark out the line of country for the steeple-chase. +In this operation he exhibited, as he +fancied, all the tactics of the most experienced +quartermaster-general. In endeavouring, however, +to elucidate the difficulties of a leap which, +he thought essential to the effect of the race, he +came somewhat unexpectedly off his horse. A +little dirt, and a bruise or two out of sight, of +which he gave no evidence, were all the consequences +of this performance; and having made +every necessary arrangement for the exhibition +of the following day, he hastened to a small +public-house a little way removed from the +high road, which rejoiced in the sign of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>“Duke of Marlborough,” in order to change his +clothes and prepare himself for a flying visit to +the shop, to which a promise made to his mother +in the morning was carrying him in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>When some of Brag’s associates in the field +questioned him as to his cause of hurry, he +made his excuses in so confused a tone, that +he left, as he meant to do, an impression upon +the minds of his country cronies, that he was +under an enslavement to the illustrious descendant +of the hero of Blenheim and Malplaquet, +rather than to the landlord of the house +where the pictured warrior swang “high in +air” before the door. However, it was all +“straight up, right down, and no mistake;” +and the pretender “cut ’cross the country” +to his hostelry, at which had been deposited +his portmanteau “down per coach,” which contained +his clothes for the two coming days’ performances,—his +pet scarlet coat and white cords +by way of a show, and if necessary a pink silk +jacket with yellow sleeves for the steeple-chase.</p> + +<p>When he arrived at the goal—the sign of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>“Duke of Marlborough,” he was surprised to +find the only sitting-room of the “hotel” occupied. +A stranger, who had been driven into +the house for shelter from the “pitiless pelting” +of a hail-storm, in which the admirable +tallow-chandler had been drenched, was sitting +before the fire—agreeable in any season in England, +but particularly so in the equivocal weather +of a British spring—reading the County +Press of the preceding Saturday, redolent of +tobacco, and stamped with the circular impressions +of sundry pewter-pot bottoms which had +reposed upon its columns.</p> + +<p>“I say, Stubbs,” said our hero, who was +known to the landlord as ‘the most sportingest +gentleman as ever come down to them parts,’ +“what’s this? I ordered my dinner this morning”—(his +luncheon with the Duke of Marlborough,)—“and +find the room engaged;—what’s +this?”</p> + +<p>An attempt on the part of Stubbs to soothe +the boiling rage of Brag, by sundry qualifying +expressions of regret, and a few “I dare says,” +and “The gentleman won’t be long,” and several +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>such pacificatory observations, was happily +seconded by the occupant of the parlour +himself; who upon beholding the inflation +of the little Cockney, whose vulgar red and +white face was illuminated by the fire which +raged within, rose from his seat and said, +in the best possible humour, that he feared +he was an intruder, but that he had been +driven in by stress of weather; that he had +ordered some luncheon, which he concluded was +nearly ready; and that if the gentleman would +permit him to do so, he should be happy +to share the repast with him, which, as he +seemed to be himself wet and cold, would perhaps +not be disagreeable to him.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Brag, “I’m not the chap to +quarrel about trifles: only, I certainly, when I +sent my horses down here, did say I should come +and dine here; and I have been here often before, +and I never was served so till to-day. +However, I’m much obliged by your civility, +and haven’t the least objection to join you, each +of us in course paying, share and share alike.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, as you please,” said the stranger, in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>whose eye there lurked a laughing smile, and +who seemed satisfied, by the little he had seen +of his new and important acquaintance, that he +should find something like amusement in the +cultivation of a temporary friendship with him.</p> + +<p>“I’ll just step up-stairs,” said Brag, “and +cast my skin, as I call it; and by that time, +Stubbs, the luncheon will be ready.”</p> + +<p>“In five minutes, sir,” said Stubbs.</p> + +<p>“I say,” said Brag as he went along the +passage, “who is that chap in the parlour?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t a notion, sir,” said the landlord. +“He came here in the midst of that pelting hail-storm +about half an hour ago, on a fine strong +horse which is now in the stable, and which +seems to have had a pretty sharpish run somehow; +and he ordered a fire to be lighted and +some chops to be got ready, and said he would +stop an hour or two.”</p> + +<p>“No servant?” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t carry bags?” asked Brag.</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Stubbs.</p> + +<p>“Seems genteel,” said the tallow-chandler; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>“no chance of anything wrong?—plain drest +man on a fine horse—eh, don’t you understand? +straight up, right down—eh, no mistake. No +chance of highwaymen now-a-days?”</p> + +<p>“Lor’, no, sir,” said Stubbs; “such a +thought never entered my head. To be sure, he +looked at your two hunters in the stable, and +asked Jem who they belonged to.”</p> + +<p>“What did he say?” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“To one Squire Brag,” said Stubbs; “a +gentleman from London.”</p> + +<p>“Right, quite right,” said Brag: “no occasion +to tell everybody the truth. And he admired +them, did he?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed he did,” said Stubbs.</p> + +<p>“Oh, all right, no mistake,” said Brag, +delighted to have unconsciously impressed +upon the mind of his “promiscuous acquaintance” +the character of his pretensions to consideration +and his right of swagger. “I’ll +just go and run my eye over <em>his</em> nag before I +go into the parlour, and then we shall be on a +footing, eh?”</p> + +<p>Stubbs bowed; and Brag proceeded to change +his clothes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> + +<p>While he was performing that operation, the +ever-active landlord added another knife and +fork to the table already prepared for his other +visitor: of which opportunity the stranger +availed himself to inquire who the curious little +gentleman in the green jacket and white cords +might be; and in answer to his question touching +that important subject, he was accurately informed +by mine host, as far as he knew;—that +he was a gentleman of large fortune from the +City, he believed, who was in the habit of hunting +with all the hounds in the metropolitan +counties: that he usually kept his horses +there; that he was the owner of the two which +the gentleman had so much admired; <span id="TN1">that +he was a choice spirit</span>, and mixed in very +high company; all of which information the +strange gentleman seemed to receive with considerable +satisfaction—probably, as Stubbs the +landlord thought, because he should feel himself +honoured and gratified by the countenance +and society of so distinguished an individual +as Brag, and because he inwardly rejoiced at +having made a point of showing so much courtesy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span>and attention on his first arrival to a gentleman +of such respectability and importance.</p> + +<p>The stranger’s inquiries and the landlord’s +elucidations had scarcely ended, before the volatile +Cockney made his re-appearance.</p> + +<p>“Come, Stubbs,” cried he, rubbing his hands +as he entered the little sanded parlour, “be +alive, my fine fellow! up with the chops! no nonsense—sharp’s +the word and quick’s the motion, +eh?—straight up, right down, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“They will be ready in two minutes, sir,” +said the landlord as he quitted the apartment.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way I manage ’em,” said Brag; +“none of your crawlers for me. I dare say you +have been waiting ever so long for your feed; +they don’t mind strangers—everything is habit, +sir,—used to <em>me</em>—know I won’t stand upon +trifles. I pay ready money, and don’t stint—eh? +that’s the way I keep ’em all alive.—Are +you from town to-day?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the stranger; “I am on my road +across the country. I rode farther than I intended, +and was caught in the last storm.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Brag, beginning to exercise what +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>he considered his tact in ascertaining the calling +of his companion; “you are not going straight +along?”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied his new friend, “merely +taking a canter.”</p> + +<p>“Blowing away the cobwebs, as my friend +Lord Tom Towzle says,” said Brag, looking +at himself in the miserable glass which surmounted +the mantel-shelf, adjusting his shirt-collar, +and combing out his curls, of which +he was as vain as a peacock of his tail. “I +never had harder work: pitched right over +my little hack’s head, trying to show my +friend Lord Wagly, the right-earnest way of +taking a double fence. To be sure, it was too +much for the poor little thing, and it served me +right. I was spilt—up again in a minute—all, +as quick as Queen Elizabeth. I say, that’s +a fine horse of yours in the stable——Stir the +fire—hem,—or lend me the poker——eh?—capital +nag, I calculate, as the Yankees say?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the stranger, “a fine serviceable +animal: I ride pretty heavy, and require something +strong to carry me. You have two clever +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>animals in the boxes here; I assure you I +had been admiring them very much before you +arrived.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Brag, “nice tits, I flatter myself: +I never had two horses that suited me +better. I have—let me see—eight—no, nine—yes, +nine—much of a muchness; four in Leicestershire, +two here, and the rest in London—nursing +a bit, that’s my way. I say sport’s +sport—never overwork kind animals—don’t +break their hearts even if you break their +backs. So I keep enough to do it easy: for, as +I said to Towzle, what’s the use of plenty of +money if you don’t spend it?—eh! The devil +take this fellow! <em>his</em> chops are not ready, +though ours are—he! Did you ever hear that +before,—deuced good, eh?—old, I guess, and +no mistake. I’ll just give him a reminder.”</p> + +<p>Saying which, Brag seized the bell-rope, and +gave it so tremendous a jerk, that down it +came, bringing with it a cloud of dust, just at +the moment that the door opened, and presented +to the view of the guests, Stubbs, with +the chops, and Rachel his daughter at his heels, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>bearing a dish of potatoes, and a plate, whereon +were deposited two vine leaves of blue ware, +filled, the one with gherkins green, the other +with walnuts brown.</p> + +<p>Rachel was about seventeen, pretty and +arch, with a pair of expressively lively black +eyes. It was clear that Brag had seen them +before, and that Rachel was not altogether +insensible of their power; and while the assiduous +Stubbs was regulating the plates and +knives and forks at their proper angles on the +table, the Nimrod of Cockaigne was slyly +pressing the elbow—rather of the reddest—of +the amiable Rachel, as she stretched one +hand forward towards her unsuspecting parent, +in the act of offering him the vegetables +wherewith to deck the table. The stranger +saw the dexterous manœuvre of his new companion, +but appeared to be wholly unconscious +of his insinuativeness.</p> + +<p>“That’s a pretty girl,” said Brag after the +parent and child had left the room,—“sly as a +pussy cat. Dear me! the things one <em>does</em> see in +this world! No matter where one goes, it is all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>the same! One has only to look at a girl, or a +woman older a deuced deal than that, down she +comes; I don’t know how it is, or how you +find it, but, by Job,” (as Brag always called +Jove,) “it’s a difficult thing to keep clear of the +female sex; I suppose it’s something in one’s +manner—eh,—don’t you think so?—’pon my +life I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said the stranger, “I am not in +the habit of generalizing upon such subjects: +a woman worthy of being won is not so easily +won.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! ah!” said Brag; “you mean tip-toppers, +blue-stockings, nobs, and all that kind of +thing: I mean the sex taken what I call collectively. +What do you drink, eh? Ale, by +Job! Here, here, just put your head out of the +door and call Stubbs; you are nearer than +me: I wish I hadn’t broken the bell. Call +him,—or stay;—no, I’ll speak to him,—have +up <em>my</em> tap—eh,—don’t you see?”</p> + +<p>The volubility and vanity of the Cockney +amused as well as surprised the stranger, who, +upon Brag’s resuming his seat, endeavoured to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>draw him back—which there was little difficulty +in doing—to his old subject, by telling +him one of the innumerable <i lang="fr">bons mots</i> of the +celebrated Sophie Arnould, who, when a Brag +of her day, in descanting largely upon his success +with a certain demoiselle of the rank +and standing of Rachel Stubbs, told her that +the affair had made a great noise in the neighbourhood, +asked whether it were not occasioned +by the lady’s pattens. Brag did not see +the application, and went on, as his acquaintance +with his companion grew, and his familiarity +ripened, to be extremely communicative, +most especially upon his own successes in the +way of “Don-Juanism.”</p> + +<p>The <i lang="la">sederunt</i> of the companions was considerably +lengthened by a return of bad weather. +The rain and hail again poured down in +torrents; and Brag, who denounced wine in +such a place, resolved upon keeping out the cold +with some hot mixture. The stranger, who was +also weather-bound, seemed not altogether disinclined +to follow his companion’s example; and +they drew their chairs towards the fire, in order +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>to wait with patience for a brighter sky; which, +as the spring had set in with its accustomed +severity, they were not soon certain of seeing.</p> + +<p>“I am told,” said a lady of rank to the Persian +Ambassador, who was in this country +so many years since, that, for the sake of my +female friends, I will not say how many,—“I +am told, sir, that in <em>your</em> country they worship +the sun.” “True, madam,” replied the Ambassador; +“and so they would in <em>yours</em>, if they +ever saw him.” The hope of catching a glimpse +of him on the day of Brag’s adventure at the +“Duke of Marlborough” was but faint and remote: +the storm pattered against the casements +of the humble apartment which he and his associate +occupied, and Jack was resolved to show +that his spirits, however mercurial, were not +altogether dependant upon the weather.</p> + +<p>“Blessing, good temper,” said Brag,—“eh?—makes +no difference to me—life is not long +enough to be sorry; clouds or sunshine, on I +go, smack, smooth ’cross the country, and no +mistake.—As I was saying just now, if I +were to write my life and adventures, what a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>book it would make! to be sure, one could not +publish it;—compromise so many dear delicious +creatures—eh?”</p> + +<p>“But do you find,” said the stranger, “this +facility of conquest equally general in the +higher classes, with whom, as you have already +said, you mix?”</p> + +<p>“Equal,” exclaimed Brag, emptying at the +same moment his first glass of Stubbs’s punch,—“the +same everywhere. I grant you, the +females of the aristocracy are more closely +watched; the eyes of the world are more on +them. But, dear me, when they are out of +sight—when we are what I call tiled,—all snug +and comfortable, and no mistake,—I think the +tip-toppers are livelier than the mediums.”</p> + +<p>“And these females, as you call them,” said +the stranger, “are they most easily led away by +person or manner, or accomplishments?”</p> + +<p>“A little of all,” said Jack, running the +dumpy fingers of one of his little fat hands +through his curls, and pulling up his shirt-collar +with the other as usual;—“manner +is everything—that’s it, sir; genteel, but bordering +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>upon the lively—eh, don’t you understand? +Now there’s Lady Fanny Smartly, as +nice a horse-woman as you’ll see in a summer’s +day;—why, Lor—just see me lend her +my arm to mount! Her brother looks with wonder—the +groom retires with awe—and then +she gives me a smile, as much as to say, ‘You +are a sharp little fellow, Jack!’ Well, then in +the evening, there I find her all gentle and +languishing—you wouldn’t think she had +ever seen a horse in her life;—and then she +laughs,—and I look, and then she laughs +again; and you can’t think how one gets +on in that way—eh, and no mistake!”</p> + +<p>“Lady Fanny Smartly?” said the stranger; +“I think I have occasionally seen her riding +in London.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely,” said Jack; “but that’s not +the way to know her. Now there’s Mrs. +Dallington—a friend of mine, and her sister—they +live close up by Grosvenor Square;—I go +there almost every day; they are as opposite +as light from dark,—one all sharp, you know—sort +of daisy-cutting tit—smack smooth, and no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>mistake;—the other, Miss Blanche Englefield, +all meek, modest, quiet; what you call retiring, +soft, gentle.”</p> + +<p>“A melting beauty?” said the stranger.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Jack, colouring; “not melting;—a—not +that sort of thing,—but—distant, +and shy. Why, now with <em>me</em>, she is all +free and easy. There I see a couple of men +day after day dancing attendance upon these two +women, and dying to marry them. In course I +shouldn’t take any advantage of my friends, +as I told Lord Tom—a crack crony of mine—Lord +Tom Towzle. I never would—no, +I scorn the action,—but it is hard to refrain.”</p> + +<p>“Lord Tom Towzle,” said the stranger, +“is a son of the Duke of Ditchwater,—is he +not?”</p> + +<p>“He is,” said Jack: “I see you know some +of their names. Did you ever see Lord Tom? +I always call him Tommy for shortness;—he is +an excellent fellow in his way,—not over respectable +in money matters—but an uncommon +good un to go ’cross a country.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></p> + +<p>“Have you seen much of his aunt, Lady +Bloomville?” said the stranger.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the old toad!” said Jack; “a regular +scarecrow,—she is what people call a respectable +body—eh! reads him lectures and all that—he +can’t bear her;—we have a great deal of +fun there sometimes—we go and what he calls +roast her.”</p> + +<p>“I had always heard,” said the stranger, +“that she was a remarkably respectable amiable +person. I hope you never found <em>her</em> so complying +as you seem to have found the rest of +your fashionable friends.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you what,” said Brag, putting his +finger to his nose—“if <em>you</em> knew what <em>I</em> +know, you wouldn’t be surprised at anything.”</p> + +<p>“She has a brother, hasn’t she?” said the +stranger.</p> + +<p>“What, Lady Bloomville?” asked Jack.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the stranger.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, Lord Ilfracombe,” said Jack; +“and a queer chap he is too.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span></p> + +<p>“Is he much at Lady Bloomville’s?” asked +the stranger.</p> + +<p>“More than we like,” replied Brag; “he +is what I call a dull dog,—good man in his +way,—plain, and no show,—none of what I +call gammon. I say, I must have another jorum +of this stuff—put your head out and call, +will you—eh! make yourself useful—nothing +like sociability, and no mistake—eh!”</p> + +<p>The stranger obeyed, and called the waiter; +Rachel appeared, and Jack ordered a replenishment +of punch, in doing which, having previously +expressed his admiration of the waitress, +he suited the action to the word, and then +resumed.</p> + +<p>“Old Ilfracombe is a queer one,” said he, +“a bore,—won’t sit after dinner. Now, as I +say to Lord Tom, that is a fault of the young +ones;—no conversation,—no nothing now—up +go the ladies, and then comes ‘Will anybody +have any more wine, or shall we have coffee?’ +and up we go after them,—no opportunity for +what somebody calls the feast of reason and the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>flow of soul, or, as I read it, ‘flow of bowl,’—eh!”</p> + +<p>“So then,” said the stranger, “this +Lord Ilfracombe is what may be called a +wet blanket!—he doesn’t look like one of +the Kill-joys.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think not?” said Jack. “I suppose +you have only seen him by chance, at some +public dinner, or somewhere where smiles are +always ready. If you knew him as well as I +and Lord Tom do, you would set him down +for as great a bore as ever lived.”</p> + +<p>“And is Lord Tom, as you call him,” said +the stranger, “in love with either of the ladies +you have mentioned to me?”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit,” said Jack. “Tommy and I—or +rather, I might say, I and Tommy, +take a different course,—butterflies, bees,—eh!—don’t +you see?—rove and sip—and no +mistake. No, I think it would be an injustice +in either of us to marry. But, there are +two very respectable men dangling—you understand +what I mean.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> + +<p>“Perfectly,” said the stranger.</p> + +<p>“But,” said Brag, “it is painful to see it—eh!—Lord +bless your heart—however—Oh! +here is my second glass—put it down, +Rachel,—here—come round—this way,—don’t +be frightened, the gentleman won’t eat you.”</p> + +<p>Rachel did as she was bid, but it was quite +clear by the expression of her pretty countenance +as she left the room, that she did not +think quite so much of <span id="TN2">Brag as Brag thought +of himself</span>.</p> + +<p>“If you,” said Brag, “had opportunities +as I have of seeing the best society,—what +I call skimming the cream, you would be in +the secret; but without seeing it, as I said +before, there’s no believing it—eh!”</p> + +<p>“I am sure you are right,” said the stranger. +“I think Lord Ilfracombe has a son, +hasn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure he has,” said Brag, “Lord +Dawlish,—and a nice chap he is too; he married +a Miss Linton, the daughter of a country +gentleman in my lord’s neighbourhood. I +know all the facts from Lord Tommy. She is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>like a doll in a toy-shop window—waxy and +winky-eyed—eh! You understand—money—the +father sold the child to buy the title, and a +pretty swop too. Lord bless you! they live +like cat and dog. I can’t bear her—mawkish—eh! +Don’t you take some more of this mixture?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” said the stranger. “And does +Lord Dawlish mix much in your sports?”</p> + +<p>“Why now,” said Jack, “before you carry +this on too far, I <em>do</em> think you ought to tell me +why you ask. I don’t think it fair, living with +these people as I do, what you call <span id="TN3">hand-in-glove</span>, +and all that, to let out; you may, perhaps, +have an interest in knowing particulars. I am +sure you won’t be offended, but I take it that +you are in the mercantile line, and what people +in the city call travelling on your own bottom—you +want to know where credit may and where +it mayn’t be given—eh? I don’t think I ought +to commit my friends, old cocky—eh! all right +and no mistake—don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said the stranger; “I didn’t +know that Lord Dawlish <em>was</em> a friend of yours.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p> + +<p>“The whole clique,” said Brag, looking very +cunning; “and I can tell you this—they <em>know</em> +I am rich, eh!—all snug, smug, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the stranger, “I am much +obliged for the mixture of confidence in <em>me</em>, +and the consideration of <em>them</em>, which regulates +your communications;—but I suppose old Ilfracombe +himself is a steady goer?”</p> + +<p>“Umph!” said Jack, “pretty well—six o’ +one side and half-a-dozen of the other—much +of a muchness—you understand, eh!—all outside—plating, +as I call it.”</p> + +<p>Here the conversation was interrupted by +the entrance of Stubbs, who announced that +Mr. Brag’s groom had just arrived from London, +on the top of the coach, which had set +him down at the corner of the cross road.</p> + +<p>“Let him come in,” said Brag, with an air +of the most exalted dignity.</p> + +<p>The lad made his appearance, dripping, like +Niobe, all tears.</p> + +<p>“Well, what made you so late?” said Brag.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> + +<p>“Couldn’t git down afore, sir,” said the +lad.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said his master, “go get yourself +something to eat, and see to the horses.”</p> + +<p>“I wanted to say a word about the horses, +sir,—please,” said the lad.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Brag, “you may say what +you have to say; you are not afraid of that +stranger, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” said the boy, “I’m not afraid +o’ anybody, but I didn’t know I was to say +what I had to say, out.”</p> + +<p>“Say,” said Jack, waving his half-emptied +tumbler over his head—“‘Say on,’ as the chap +at the theātre says.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Figgs,” said the boy, “wishes to know +whether you want both them ’ere horses as is +here any longer this week, or if one will do, as +he has an opportunity of letting one or both on +’em to gemmen as pays ready money; and if so +be you keeps ’em both, you’ll be pleased to +send up the stumpy by to-night’s post.”</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha, ha!” said Brag, his cheeks +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>turning as white as chalk, his hair seeming +to uncurl, and his whole countenance assuming +the appearance of a detected pickpocket—“how +good!—how deuced good, eh! Ha, +ha,—what! my own horses!”</p> + +<p>“Not your own horses, sir,” said the boy, +“they are <em>his</em> horses, you know, sir, and—”</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue, sir,” said Brag; “I +think I ought to know whose horses they are +better than he;—get out,—go and look after +the nags—before you get anything to eat—and +I will come out to you presently.”</p> + +<p>Of all the curs unhung, there is none so +awfully contemptible as a drivelling braggart. +The wretched cockney seemed to quail before +his associate, whom, as we know, he imagined to +be either a rider to some respectable house in the +button line, or a small dealer travelling, as he +called it, “on his own bottom.” He watched +the glance of the eye of this man, whom he +had before despised and bullied, to see what impression +the detection of his miserable assumptions +had made upon him; but the stranger, +who had his own business to attend to, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>who seemed fully occupied by his own thoughts, +evinced no alteration either in look or manner +when he heard his contemptible companion exposed +by the stable-keeper’s menial. Why he +was not much affected by this <i lang="fr">denouement</i>, we +may perhaps shortly discover.</p> + +<p>“What fools servants are!” said Jack, when +he <em>could</em> speak—stirring up a bit of lemon-peel +from the bottom of his glass, and keeping his +eyes steadily fixed upon the object and operation +during the utterance of his remark.</p> + +<p>What the stranger thought of masters, was +not to be collected from either his words or his +looks.</p> + +<p>“Figgs is a fool too,” said Brag, when he +had rallied; “I wonder what <em>he</em> means.”</p> + +<p>The stranger, who merely recollected the +history of his companion’s stud, all elaborately +detailed, did not by any means exert himself to +elucidate the mysteries of the liveryman’s stables. +He was perfectly satisfied with the affair +as it stood, and there an end.</p> + +<p>“I believe,” said Brag, breaking what appeared +a most uncomfortable silence, and which, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>as pretenders invariably do, he fancied arose +from a conviction in the other gentleman’s +mind that he was a “humbug,”—“I believe +that these fellows try to worry one into buying, +by such tricks as these: however, I flatter +myself I am pretty well known about London, +and if I have any interest with the Master of +the horse, not one of Figgs’s animals sets +foot into the Royal stables,—there I <em>have</em> an +influence.”</p> + +<p>The stranger merely looked, and finished +his one glass of Stubbs’s particular, to Brag’s +two; which one he had been persuaded to imbibe +upon the very just principle of repelling +external cold by internal warmth. It was +clear that the cockney had been hit hard by +the stupidity of his boy, as he called him—who, +in fact, was not his; and odd enough to say, +however pleased he might have been to escape +anything like a cross-examination from his +companion, he was rather vexed than not, that +the said companion did not appear to take sufficient +interest in his proceedings to inquire any +farther into particulars.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> + +<p>“The weather does not seem to clear up,” +said the stranger, walking towards the window; +“I am not quite sure what is best to be done.”</p> + +<p>“As for me,” said Brag, “I shall be a fixture +for the night, if it holds on so badly.”</p> + +<p>“I must get home by dinner-time,” said the +stranger.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Brag, “then this is not your +dinner.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the stranger. “I believe in point +of fact it <em>is</em>, but nominally it is not; I have fifteen +miles to ride before I get home. I suppose +one might on an emergency get a chaise here?”</p> + +<p>“Not here,” said Brag; “I am always +obliged, when I want horses, to send down to +the George,—two miles from this;—but that +makes no difference, I’ll tell my boy to run +down if you want them:—are you going towards +town?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the stranger, and stranger he +was in those parts, “my course is <em>from</em> London.”</p> + +<p>“Eh! oh!” said Brag, evidently desirous +of finding out his associate’s pursuits. “I shall +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>cobble up here for the night, I think;—I dare +say Rachel will make my tea for me, and I shall +be uncommon comfortable, and no mistake. I +like the—what do the French call it?—the +‘despipere in poco,’ or something of that sort, +as Lord Tommy says;—so here I stop. I +have nothing to do, no business, no call, no +tie, except that unhappy Mrs.—did I tell you +her name?—yes I did,—Mrs. Dallington and +her sister Blanche. They must wait—can’t +ride through the rain for them, eh!”</p> + +<p>At this moment a remarkably neat, well appointed +travelling carriage, drawn by four bright +bays, preceded by an outrider, and in the rumble +of which were two strapping servants, drove +up to the door of the small ostelry—the steeds +all thorough bred, were foaming and champing +the bit, and the party within evidently in high +spirits. The halt was called just to wash out +the mouths of the horses, which were, as it appeared, +making a long stage.</p> + +<p>“I say,” said Brag, “these are somebodies:—what +nags!—did you ever see such a turn +out;—that’s what I call going it—straight up, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span>right down, and no mistake. Let’s just go out +and have a look at ’em.”</p> + +<p>Brag led the way—the stranger implicitly +followed; the moment he exhibited his person +by the side of the cockney, a shout of surprise +and delight echoed from the carriage.</p> + +<p>“So, here you are!” cried the youngest of +the <i lang="fr">parti carré</i>. “What <em>have</em> you been doing +here?”</p> + +<p>“Doing!” said the stranger; “why you +don’t expect a man to ride to an archery meeting +through a torrent!”</p> + +<p>“My dear love,” said a lady in the carriage, +“are you quite sure you have not got wet?”</p> + +<p>“Not the least,” said the stranger; “for I +took the precaution of halting here, and getting +some luncheon in very agreeable society. But, +perhaps, you will let <em>me</em> in turn inquire why +you have taken this road.”</p> + +<p>“Partly, I believe,” said a young man who +turned out to be the stranger’s son, “by mistake,—the +weather was so desperate that the +whole affair was a <i lang="fr">coup manqué</i>, and we were +glad enough to scramble away as well as we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>could; but, however, you will now come with +<em>us</em>; they say it is an ill wind that blows nobody +good.”</p> + +<p>“You may rely upon my housing myself in +the carriage,” said the stranger, “even at the +hazard of crowding you. Harrison, stay behind, +and bring home my horse in the course of the +evening, and pay my bill here; don’t hurry +back, for I rode rather hard in coming.”</p> + +<p>The ladies seemed delighted at the acquisition +which they had made to their party +“inside,” and the stranger, with his foot on +the step of the carriage, took off his hat and +made a low bow to Brag, who stood looking +on in a state of amaze and wonderment arising +from the extraordinary fact, that anybody +who really lived in the society of which he +was permitted to catch occasional glimpses, +could seriously sit down and enjoy mutton +chops in a small alehouse, without disclosing +his rank or talking of his connexions.</p> + +<p>The carriage drove off,—splashed a little +of the mud upon Brag’s delicate nose, and +left, according to the stranger’s directions, one +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>of the servants behind, who upon scanning +the figure of the cockney sportsman, turned +away from him with an air of dignity which +his master had never assumed; and whose remarkably +smart leathers and tops were so +much better “got up” than Brag’s ever were, +(although when he wore leathers he always +devoted a certain portion of the morning to +his own personal care of them,) that the unhappy +creature cowered before the menial of +the man, whom because he was plainly dressed, +and assumed nothing in his manner, he had +treated as if he were an inferior.</p> + +<p>“I say, sir,” said Brag to the man as he +was walking towards the stable, “may I ask +who the gentleman is, who stepped into that +carriage, and has left you to take home his +horse?”</p> + +<p>“That’s <em>my</em> lord,” said Harrison, so was +the man named.</p> + +<p>“And what lord may he be?” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know <em>my</em> lord, sir?” said Harrison; +“I thought everybody knew him,—Lord +Ilfracombe. That’s my Lady, and his son Lord +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>Dawlish, and Lady Dawlish, and Lady Bloomville, +in the carriage.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! five insides!” said Brag: “and who +was the young lady with the veil?”</p> + +<p>“Lady Fanny Smartly,” said the man, and +passed on to look after his lord’s horse.</p> + +<p>Jack stood as if petrified: he felt his ears tingle, +his knees shake,—the mingled impudence +and folly of his conduct came full upon him, like +a double-headed shot. Here were all his intimate +friends whom he had never seen before, +conjured up, as it were, to ruin him in the +estimation of the head of the family, whom he +had denounced to himself as a queer one, a +bore, a kill-joy, and a wet blanket. He had +not the power to stir, nor would he have moved +from the place where he stood, with his eyes +swimming and his head whirling, if the stable-boy +from Figgs’s had not just begged him to +make up his mind as to the horse he would +keep.</p> + +<p>Jack, for a minute roused to a sense of his +absurdity, gave his answer, and retired to the +house; where having in due time recovered the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>spirits or callousness which generally upheld +him, he rang for some tea,—a beverage in which +the subjects of Cockaigne delight, and which +was in the course of half-an-hour brought him +by a dirty red-headed boy; Rachel Stubbs having +gone over to her aunt’s, on purpose to get +out of the way of his nasty impertinences.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III"> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Brag’s feelings at the period of this announcement +were by no means of the most +agreeable character. It was quite certain that +the scene which had just been enacted by the +noble lord and himself would furnish materials +for a <i lang="fr">historiette</i> in his lordship’s circle, whence +it would infallibly descend to the sphere of his +own actions, as fashions gradually sink from the +duchess to the dowdy, until, as extremes meet, +they become extinct from their universality.</p> + +<p>Then, for the Lothario to be slighted—avoided—cut +by the waiting-girl of a small +inn, who ought to have been prouder than a +peacock at having attracted his eyes: altogether +Jack was ill at ease, and fell to ruminating +upon his present not brilliant prospects, +until he fell asleep.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p> + +<p>Not so his mother. She had pondered the +words her son had spoken: she felt that his +recommendation to take unto herself a second +husband, although she had passed several years +of widowhood, was not altogether unreasonable, +since the career which he appeared determined +to pursue, let it terminate as it might, was not +very likely to end in a steady settle-down to +business, and since, as everybody allows, a +“lone woman” in trade is liable to be imposed +upon.</p> + +<p>It is odd enough, that an idea once formed +in a mind where it never had place before, +becomes the leading subject of thought and +consideration. Mrs. Brag had never dreamt of +a second marriage; and it is but fair to say, +that none of her male, middle-aged, marrying +acquaintance had ever, by word or deed, led +her to moot the question. It was reserved for +her son to fire the train; and from the moment +it was ignited, Mrs. Brag became a different +woman. She bestowed extra care upon her +frill and her front; had the one plaited, and the +other curled, with peculiar pains; took to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>wearing of coloured ribands; looked into the +shop whenever she heard the sound of voices; +and, in short, gave herself more airs than she +had ever thought of assuming for many years +before.</p> + +<p>Never, however, had she been driven into +what may be called a resolution upon the subject, +until the morning upon which this little +history opens. Johnny had often suggested +the measure, and she had at first repelled the +idea, out of respect to the departed Mr. B.; at +last, she listened more complacently; then, as I +have just said, she occupied herself in putting +the scheme in execution practically; and after +that morning, finding that all solicitations to +John in regard of steadiness must prove fruitless, +she came to a resolution of obliging her +darling boy, of whom she might justly have +said—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Johnny, with all thy faults, I love thee still,”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>and of making herself more comfortable at +home. How to compass the affair then became +her only consideration; for the reader ought +to know, that although to the very last she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>maintained her profession of disinclination for +the step, she had, in fact, determined upon +taking it. The way she went to work will +hereafter be developed.</p> + +<p>The volatile John, himself, arose on the +morning of his intended steeple-chase, little +refreshed from the sort of feverish night’s rest +he had enjoyed—if enjoyment it might be +called. He could not rally from the effects of +his self-exposure, which affected him the more +strongly, as he began to anticipate (since it was +evident that they were staying somewhere in +the neighbourhood) the appearance of some of +the branches of the noble family of Ilfracombe +to witness what men of desperate expedients +consider “fine sport.” What should he do if +this very Lord Dawlish were to join the field, +attended perhaps by Lady Fanny Smartly, or +the earl himself? Every word that he had +uttered the previous night would, of course, be +repeated; and if not actually kicked or horse-whipped +by the indignant viscount, in revenge +for the description he had given of his father +and his family, even Lord Tom Towzle himself, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>who was his main-stay, might join in the general +execration of the pretender; the more especially +as Lord Tom had at various times borrowed +sundry sums of Brag’s “loose cash,” and, having +been of late refused unlimited access to his +purse, might perhaps not be particularly sorry +to find a cause for breaking off his acquaintance +with him.</p> + +<p>The day however came, and Brag having +breakfasted, began to rally; and resolving to +put the best face upon the affair, he mounted +the horse he kept, and proceeded to the scene of +action, casting his eyes, it must be admitted, in +every direction, in dread of encountering his +friend of the preceding afternoon. Nothing of the +sort, however, occurred to annihilate him; and +when he reached the inn at which the sportsmen +were to rendezvous, and found Lord Tom and +his associates just the same as usual,—all gay, +lively, and warm in their reception,—he felt +reassured, and in less than an hour had forgotten, +or resolved not to remember, anything +about his self-exposure to the noble lord.</p> + +<p>The steeple-chase took place according to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>notice; and at its conclusion Lord Tom, assisted +by Brag, furnished a report of it for the +“Sporting Intelligence” of the London papers, +in the following words:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“This event came off yesterday to the entire +gratification of the numerous company who +were present.</p> + +<p>“The course had been marked out on the +previous day by Lord Wagley, Lord Thomas +Towzle, and Mr. Brag, who judiciously selected +a stiff line of country, including thirty-four +leaps and three brooks, best calculated to try +the mettle of both horses and riders. The +winning-post was between two flags placed in +a field belonging to Mr. Brag, who was also +appointed umpire. Five horses started—</p> + + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +“Mr. Tagrag’s ‘Washball’ +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +<i>Owner.</i><br> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +Capt. Snobb’s ‘Beggarboy’ +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +<i>Owner.</i><br> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +Sir Frederick Flapper’s ‘Stumpy’ +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +<i>Mr. Martingale.</i><br> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +Mr. Smith’s ‘Tommy’ +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +<i>Owner.</i><br> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +Colonel Ball’s ‘Blunderbuss’ +</td> +<td class="tdl"> +<i>Mr. Flint.</i> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p>“They all went off at a slashing pace. ‘Tommy’ +refused the second leap, and threw his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>rider over his head, and, falling backwards +over the bank, broke his back, and died in a +few minutes. ‘Washball’ was also unlucky in +trying to jump a brook, which her rider did not +know was fordable twenty yards lower down: +she slipped her shoulder, and was obliged to be +shot immediately after the race. We are sorry +to add, that Mr. Tagrag, who rode her, unfortunately +pitched upon the back of his neck, +and severely injured his spine. He lies at the +‘Full Moon’ at Wigglesford, without hopes +of recovery.</p> + +<p>“After these little mishaps, the play was +made entirely by ‘Beggarboy’ and ‘Stumpy,’ +‘Blunderbuss’ having knocked up after the +first two miles and a half, and being run to a +dead stand in the middle of a ploughed field, +whence neither flogging nor spurring could +move him: in fact, the shine was taken out of +him, and it became a clear case of ‘no go.’</p> + +<p>“‘Beggarboy’ and ‘Stumpy’ had had enough +of it; and when they reached the last fence, +entered the winning-field nearly neck-and-neck. +‘Stumpy’ tumbled into the ditch, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>Captain Snobbs worked ‘Beggarboy’ through +the flags in very fine style. ‘Stumpy’ was considerably +damaged by the last fall, which is a +pity, inasmuch as he is about one of the best +horses in this part of the country.</p> + +<p>“The race was for ten sovereigns each, and +was run in an incredibly short space of time. +The numerous company assembled were highly +delighted with the spirit-stirring sport, and, +after the chase, proceeded to a field at the back +of the ‘Full Moon,’ to see the ties shot off of +the great pigeon match between Mr. Slack and +Mr. Nibbs, for a silver jug and cover.</p> + +<p>“The name of Nibbs in itself was sufficient +to create an unusual interest, and the ground +was crowded with amateurs. The terms were, +twenty-one yards at twenty-one birds—charge +limited to two ounces. Betting, three to one +the winner killed eighteen—five to four on +Nibbs. They both went in, sure of doing the +trick; but after Slack and Nibbs had each +killed twelve birds, Nibbs had it all his own +way, and won the jug by five birds, killing +nineteen to Slack’s fourteen; thus winning the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span>by-bets of three to one. Several other matches +came off, and about a hundred and fifty pigeons +were knocked over.</p> + +<p>“Nothing could exceed the gaiety of the +scene. The weather was remarkably fine, and a +proportion of the beauties who had honoured the +race with their presence, were witnesses of the +cheering sport. An old woman standing just outside +the enclosure, received a whole charge of +shot in her face, which is likely to cost her the +sight of one eye at least; and a silly boy, who +imprudently attempted to knock down one of +the winged birds which was falling out of +bounds, was badly wounded in the chest and +throat. He was immediately attended to by the +surgeon of the place, who extracted thirty-six +shots from different parts of his person, and he +was then forwarded in an easy cart to the county +hospital. We hope these accidents will act as +cautions to other equally inconsiderate individuals.</p> + +<p>“At the conclusion of the sports an admirable +cold collation was served up at the ‘Full +Moon,’ in Bunks’s best style. The evening +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>passed off in the most delightfully convivial +manner, and arrangements were made for a +renewal of the exhilarating diversion of the day, +on Thursday next, when a still more numerous +assemblage is anticipated.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>This animated description, as a matter of +course, figured in the principal journals of the +following morning, Brag having succeeded in the +interpolation of three or four words, conveying +to himself a field, and, by implication, a much +more extensive estate, in a part of the country +where he did not possess even so much as called +him master at his “little place in Surrey.” +The only drawback to his happiness, however, +upon this occasion, was a visit, three days after +the appearance of the intelligence, from the +farmer to whom the field actually did belong, +who gave him to understand that he had directed +his attorney to prosecute the trespassers, +who without his permission had ploughed up +his land at a season when it did not require +tillage; and having ascertained by the newspapers +that the whole arrangements had devolved +upon Mr. Brag, the attorney thought it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>most advisable to pounce upon <em>him</em> in the first +instance.</p> + +<p>This visit, and the intelligence his visitor +conveyed to him, were anything but agreeable +to the little man, whose feelings upon the +matter were in no degree tranquillized by the +conviction that his difficulties and responsibility +were fastened upon him, because he could +not refrain from the indulgence of his besetting +propensity, in making himself not only the hero +of the affair, but the owner of the ground over +which it had been decided.</p> + +<p>The next race, however, which Mr. Brag was +destined to run, was away from the lawyer, and +accordingly, with prudence, which in animals +unclothed, we designate instinct, but which in +cases like that of Johnny we by courtesy call +reason, our hero quitted his head quarters at the +Duke’s Head, and proceeded to town per stage-coach; +the second message from Mr. Figgs, +with regard to the horses, having been accompanied +with a peremptory demand that they +might both be sent back.</p> + +<p>Brag returned to town considerably damaged, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span>and however bold he might be in assuming +consequence, and claiming friendships, never +did human being more clearly evince by his +personal appearance the workings of what served +him for mind, than he; a blow like that which +he had just received from the farmer’s announcement +completely upset him, and in five minutes +the sprightly, pert, impudent-looking wagling +was metamorphosed into a pale, downcast, miserable +victim; and in a plight thus indicative +of defeat, he reached the metropolis, quite +undecided how to dispose of himself for the +afternoon.</p> + +<p>While he is in this state of suspense let us +look for one moment at those over whose destinies +he almost unconsciously possessed a most +extraordinary influence. Sir Charles Lydiard, +whose sensitiveness had once been disturbed, +and whose shyness had been excited by Rushton’s +observations upon the manner in which +Brag was received at Mrs. Dallington’s, could +not get rid of the impression which he had at +first so hesitatingly received. None who have +not felt jealousy—and, since there never can be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>love without it, who has not?—can imagine the +pains which a patient once infected with the +disease, the jaundice of the mind, incessantly +takes to keep up its virulence. It so happened, +that Sir Charles had never seen Brag since his +conversation with Rushton, and therefore had +no opportunity of watching the “telegraph” of +which they had upon that occasion spoken; but +upon a reference to all that <em>had</em> passed, he +managed to combine a thousand “trifles light +as air,” an infinity of nothings, the consideration +of which produced an increased exhibition +of coldness and reserve during his next two or +three calls at the widow’s.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallington saw this accession of frigidity, +and without exactly hitting upon its true +cause, did certainly “telegraph” Blanche into +an observance of it. This new glance gave +new grounds for doubts and apprehensions, and +the worthy baronet passed four miserable hours +in the boudoir of the woman he best loved +in the world, if he had but known it, devoutly +wishing to make his escape, but fearing to +move lest an <i lang="fr">éclaircissement</i> should take place.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p> + +<p>Sir Charles felt more embarrassed from the +fact that he had <em>not</em> seen his aversion during +his last one or two visits; and because he was +extremely anxious to know the cause of an absence +on his part longer than usual; and because, +above all, he could not induce himself to +make the smallest inquiry after him. Other +men called, joined in the conversation, and relieved +Sir Charles from the restraint under which +the dread of a serious explanation kept him +whenever the temporary absence of Blanche reduced +the circle to a <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>; but the appearance +of none of those worried or annoyed him. +Mrs. Dallington’s manner, kind to all, was in +no degree particular to any one of them; but +certainly, now that Rushton had concurred +with him in his views upon the subject, he <em>did</em> +think that Brag was very differently treated by +both ladies. Still, he could not descend to +touch upon the topic; and after a feverish +sitting on the third morning after Brag’s departure, +Sir Charles left the widow’s to dress +for dinner, pleading an engagement which he +had not, for declining an invitation from her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>and her sister to dine with them, which he +would have been, if he could have commanded +his feelings, too happy to accept.</p> + +<p>Rushton, who had been there, but was also +absent in the evening, became more actively +employed in Brag’s business than his cold and +calculating colleague. In passing Grosvenor +Street he encountered Brag proceeding to visit +his door-plate and inquire for letters, just +arrived from the Duke of Marlborough, having +been let out of the coach (in the inside of which +he travelled to avoid the farmer’s lawyer) at +the corner of a back street in the Edgeware +Road, so as not to be detected in his descent; +by which ingenious device, and the exhibition of +a whip in his hand and a pair of spurs on his +heels, the pretender let it be inferred that he +had ridden up to town upon one of the nine +horses, which did not belong to him.</p> + +<p>Rushton welcomed his <em>friend</em> to London; +and anxious to ascertain, if he could, whether +he proposed making an evening visit to Mrs. +Dallington’s, joined him in his walk down the +street.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span></p> + +<p>“Just returned?” said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“This minute dismounted,” said Brag; “capital +sport;—never better!—all smack smooth, +and no mistake. Killed two horses outright, +and one man, I fancy; however, he was well +picked up, and the doctor has got him in +charge.”</p> + +<p>“Much company?” said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“Lots of people,” answered Brag, who, +unable to repress that which was certainly +true, however dangerous the allusion to the +family might be elsewhere; “I myself did not +stay at Wigglesford, I had rooms at the +inn where my horses stand. All quiet, snug; +no nonsense;—civil people; good landlord; +pretty daughter, eh!—you understand—no +mistake!”</p> + +<p>“Were you alone, then?” said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“Not altogether,” said Brag; “old <span id="TN4">Ilfracombe</span> +dined with me. He was going to an +archery-meeting to join his family. Weather +turned out bad; took part of my little dinner;—humble +fare—mere soup, fish, cutlet and +capon. The rest of the party joined us after +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>dinner. Dawlish and his wife, and Lady Sarah +Smartly—they did not get out of the carriage—so +I packed him off, and returned to finish +my claret, and wind up the evening in <em>my</em> +way, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to the widow’s this evening?” +said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“Not certain,” said Brag: “I’m rather +tired, and more than half engaged. How is +Sir Charles? Cold chap, that, eh? Don’t you +think so?”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Rushton, “a trifle upsets him. +He is the most delicate-minded man I ever met +with: an expression, a word, a look affects him +in a way one could scarcely imagine.”</p> + +<p>“Proud, eh?” said Brag. “Distant, eh?”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Rushton. “There is a coldness +in his manner, I admit; and those who +do not know him may fancy this proceeds from +<i lang="fr">hauteur</i>; but the fact is, that however much he +may warm in the course of the evening, he falls +back to his original state of chilliness the next +morning, and requires a new process to <i lang="fr">degêler</i> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>him. He is not therefore popular, but, in +truth, his apparent coldness has its origin in +diffidence and a distrust of himself.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! that’s diffidence, is it?” said Brag. +“I can’t say I quite understand <em>that</em>: I thought +it was pride—but for <em>that</em>, in course I don’t care +one farthing, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>It all at once struck Rushton (Sir Charles having +naturally, although unexpectedly, become +the subject of their conversation) that the present +would be a favourable opportunity of +sounding (the water not being very deep) the +views and intentions of his communicative +friend.</p> + +<p>“Why,” said he, “to tell you the truth, +Brag, I do not think <em>you</em> a fair judge of Sir +Charles. I have my quarrels with him upon +different shades of feeling; but you—<em>you</em> are +totally different.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see that,” said Brag. “It’s all +one to me, you know. I don’t care a fig, +as I say to Lord Tom: take me as I am, +eh!—all right up, straight down, no mistake. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>I quite agree with you in differing with +<em>him</em>; but I don’t see how <em>my</em> case differs from +<em>yours</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said Rushton, “there it is: it is in +that difference all the difference lies.”</p> + +<p>“How d’ye mean?” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“He is afraid of you,” replied his companion.</p> + +<p>“Afraid of <em>me</em>!” said Brag, pulling up his +shirt collar, “that’s too good.”</p> + +<p>“You are too civil by half to the widow,” +said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“Me!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Rushton, “and what is even +more to the purpose, he thinks she is too civil +by half to you.”</p> + +<p>“Upon your honour!” said Brag, in an +ecstasy of delight—“afraid of <em>me</em>! Come, +come—eh!—that’s too good!”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit too good,” said Rushton. “I +tell you what it is—I’ll be candid with you—I +am just as much afraid of you myself.”</p> + +<p>“You, Rushton!” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“Yes, more than Sir Charles is,” replied +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span>Rushton. “Recollect now—remember—think +how you go on with Blanch Englefield—a +being all shyness and reserve with everybody +else, is with <em>you</em>, animated and evidently interested +in your conversation.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean that <em>you</em> are afraid of +<em>me</em>, too,” said Brag, fully convinced of the +entire seriousness of the conversation, which +after all contained more of real apprehension +than Rushton would have willingly had him +know. “I certainly have a way, eh!—I don’t +know what it is—it cannot be person—manner, +I suppose. I am always ready to talk, eh! +The tongue is the very deuce in a sharp fellow’s +head—a little repartee, and all that, eh!—small-talk, +and a good deal of it—that’s it.”</p> + +<p>“Clearly,” said Rushton.</p> + +<p>“The women like little parties,” said Brag—“fêtes—water +excursions—<i lang="fr">dejeuners</i>, and all +that. Then they get so good-humoured; and +the champagne—and the return—and the +moonlight—and the music, and all <em>that</em>.”</p> + +<p>“You have not yet opened your battery in +that line,” said Rushton.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span></p> + +<p>“Waiting for weather,” said Brag. “I’ll +show you the way to do that sort of thing as +soon as summer is well in, eh!—and then, I +think, you <em>will</em> have the heart-ache.”</p> + +<p>“Are you, then, so general a lover?” said +Rushton. “Will neither content your love of +conquest? Must you win both?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! come,” said Brag, putting his finger +to his nose, and winking, “you are playing +your tricks—what do <em>they</em> care for <em>me</em>?”</p> + +<p>“That remains to be seen,” said Rushton. +“My firm belief is, that you may obtain the +hand of either of them; and my opinion, moreover, +is, that if you have not serious intentions +that way, as far as one of them is concerned, +you do an injustice to both, by acting +towards them as you do.”</p> + +<p>“Upon your life!” said Jack—“you are +serious?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly,” said Rushton; “however, this +is entirely between ourselves: and whatever +step you take, let me just mention, that the +widow is much the more lively companion of +the two, and has rather the better fortune; so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>turn your basilisk eyes towards her, and leave +the poor silent, sighing Blanche for me. Adieu! +Here we are at your door—you are at home. +Do me the favour to remember what I have +said, and as you are great be merciful.”</p> + +<p>Saying which, Rushton quitted his friend, +who was completely overset by the announcement +of the opinion he had just heard delivered. +It took very little to convince him of +his power over what he called the “female +sex,” and he had certainly for some time felt +very much inclined to coincide with Rushton +in his views upon this particular point. But +then came the question—Which of the prizes +should he take?—which of the lovers should he +immolate? Lydiard, he was assured, was too +cold and odd to charm the widow, and Rushton +too violent and jealous to be agreeable as a +husband to Blanche. The notion once put into +his head, operated there like that with which he +had a short time before possessed his respectable +mother on a similar subject, and all that now remained +for him to do was to make up his mind +for a decision. That he <em>did</em> decide, the reader +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>is destined soon to see; how, for the present, +must remain a secret.</p> + +<p>There certainly is one part of the affair +which did not make itself evident to him. +Blinded by his vanity, he did not perceive that +the whole object Rushton had in view in acknowledging +his own fears, which he really fancied +had some foundation, and in encouraging +his pretensions, was the expulsion of the little +man altogether; for although he had succeeded +in awakening Sir Charles’s suspicions, and Sir +Charles had been equally fortunate in arousing +<em>his</em>, and that he had moreover discovered, by +Brag’s manner and admission, that the widow +was, at least of the two, the present object of his +admiration, he felt perfectly satisfied that he +would receive his <i lang="fr">congée</i> the very hour in which +he made a formal declaration, and thus, without +appearing in the business, he should be relieved +from all farther apprehensions from his presence, +while the affair of his expulsion would, +in fact, be that of Lydiard and the widow.</p> + +<p>Brag, however, was about to be entangled in +another little business, which promised to interfere +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>with the immediate execution of his plan. +He had resolved upon repairing to his “little +place in Surrey,” in order to look after certain +affairs which were essential to the production of +the means for “carrying on the war,” and +afterwards proposed, at least when it should be +sufficiently dark for the purpose—to visit his +mother, who, wisely enough, took care of the +shop as far as her abilities would permit her to +watch one or two clerks and shopmen, who undoubtedly, +seeing that she was a “lone woman,” +did every day that, of which, in her own phrase, +she was so much afraid “put upon her;” +which phrase, rendered into plain English, +means, cheat her out of her property whenever +they were able.</p> + +<p>As our story expands, it may be necessary +here to observe, that Mrs. Brag had a daughter, +the sister of John, who had never been a favourite +with her father. People said her temper +was bad: some people said one thing, and other +people, as they will do, said other things: certain +it is, that home was no home for her. And +after a sort of half-and-half education at a suburban +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>boarding-school, where she learned astronomy, +the mathematics, netting, knitting, knotting, +the use of the globes, dancing, geometry, +drawing, embroidery, rug-working, purse-making, +flower-painting, botany, singing, geology, +plain needle-work, natural history, stencilling, +Italian, French, Spanish, and German, the harp, +guitar, piano-forte, tambourine, and triangle, +together with many other sciences and accomplishments, +“too numerous for the brief space +of an advertisement,” she early in life married +hastily, and clandestinely, a gentleman in the +army of the name of Brown. His military duties +had since called him to India, where his regiment +had now been for several years. Of him +or his sister, Jack seldom spoke, and, when he +did, coldly referred to her husband as the major. +Any little uneasiness which her father had +evinced about the marriage at the period at +which it occurred, had been decently buried in +oblivion by the fond mother and her son, who, +whatever other feelings might have prompted +him to this acquiescence in the affair, it could +not be doubted was in a considerable degree +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>acted upon by a desire to say nothing whatever +about it.</p> + +<p>There was, however, a person for whom, in +earlier life, and before the doting fondness of +his sire had spoiled him, he did feel as deep an +interest as such a mind as his was capable of—this +was no other than the major’s sister, +Miss Brown—Anne christened, but called +familiarly in those times Nancy Brown. It +does not sound romantic by way of a name, +but what <em>is</em> in a name?</p> + +<p>At the time of Brag’s acquaintance with +her, she was a lovely girl just eighteen, fair +as the lily and fresh as the rose. Her mother +was an humble personage, no better, +let it be understood, than a dress-maker, to +whom this daughter was assistant; for, lest we +should ourselves fall into the errors of which +Brag was guilty, it may be as well to observe, +that the military functionary with whom +Kitty became enamoured, and who had the +honour of leading her to the Hymeneal altar +without her father’s consent, derived his rank +of major from Brag himself; in giving him +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>which brevet he felt himself probably justified, +inasmuch as it was derived from a mere +abbreviation of his real title. Brown was +serjeant-major in the regiment to which he belonged; +but the omission of one half of his +official denomination was adopted very early by +Jack, with, it must be confessed, the full acquiescence +of his father, who never could +think of the misbehaviour of Kitty in making +such a match, with common patience.</p> + +<p>When his father died, Johnny, as will be +seen hereafter, became so fine a gentleman, +that he never paid the least further attention +either to Nancy Brown or the promises he had +so earnestly made her; judge, then, the surprise +and mortification which overwhelmed the +vain and foolish creature when his mother, +after the usual greetings upon his arrival at +home, placed in his hands a letter from his +poor suffering victim.</p> + +<p>To describe the face or the feelings of Brag +when this appeal from his once dear Anne was +handed to him by his respected parent, (who +was not entirely aware of the real state of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>case, but believed the communication, in all +probability, to have some reference to her +daughter, whom she in her heart had, with a mother’s +feelings, forgiven,) would be impossible. +To come from a question of supplanting Sir +Charles Lydiard in the good graces of Mrs. +Dallington, to a letter from Nancy Brown of +Walworth, was indeed a sinking in the sublime. +He turned pale, as usual; then flushed; then +his lips quivered, and his eyes opened; and +then, without saying one syllable, he thrust the +paper unopened into his pocket, where it shall +remain until a new chapter gives us space for +its perusal.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV"> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The letter which Jack, having hastily glanced +at the superscription, thrust out of sight, follows.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="right p2"> + “Walworth, Tuesday.<br> + <br> +</p> +<p> + “<span class="smcap">Dear John</span>, +</p> + +<p>“I hope you will not be angry with me for +writing to-day. You remember what day it is? +I think I need not remind you that it is your +poor Anne’s birthday. For three or four years +after Katharine’s marriage with George, and +their departure for the Indies, you used to write +to <em>me</em> on this day, but you afterwards left off +doing so; and I should not perhaps have broken +in upon you now if the anniversary had been +as bright and as cheering as it once used to be. +No, my dear John, ‘hope deferred maketh the +heart sick;’ and although I have by this time +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>learned to give up all expectation of your fulfilling +your promises made to me before your +father’s death, I neither have forgotten my +affection for <em>you</em>, nor mean to upbraid you with +your forgetfulness of <em>me</em>.</p> + +<p>“When we were so much together, and when +you said you could be happy with nobody else, +and told me of your dread of your father’s +anger, which he had indeed shown by never +seeing poor Katharine after her marriage with +my brother George, you led me to believe that +the old gentleman’s objections were the only +obstacles in the way of our marriage. I lived +on—not in hopes of his death, for I could +not be so wicked as to hope for that—but +I lived on, certain that, when it should please +Providence to take him, you would fulfil your +promise and redeem your pledge. He died, +John, but you came not to me, wrote not +to me. Day after day I watched; listened to +every knock at the door, fancying it might be +you; and every time I saw the postman coming +towards our lodging, my heart beat because I +thought he might bring me a letter from you.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p> + +<p>“A year passed away, and then, as you know, +I wrote to you, rather because I had heard +from George and your sister, and wished you +to have news of them, which I knew you +could not otherwise get, than to worry you +with my own importunities. You answered +<em>that</em> letter, but you came not yourself, neither +did the letter which you wrote contain one kind +word, or one allusion to other days, now +past and gone. Yet I complained not. I heard +of you in gay parties and gay places; I +sighed to think how far we were parted, and +perhaps I cried, John: but you were happy +and prosperous, and doing well in the world; +and I could only blame myself for having, when +a girl, been so foolish as to fancy that you cared +for me enough to make me your wife.</p> + +<p>“Six years and two months this very day +was the first time we met, and God knows, although +I have felt sorrow and sadness enough +since, it seems to me as if it were but yesterday. +It was to oblige and serve your sister Katharine, +who was my friend, that I walked out +with her, when she used to meet George. I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>did not see any harm in their courtship: I +thought well of my brother; I knew he was +kind and good; his officers gave him the highest +character for steadiness, activity, honour, +and integrity; he loved <em>her</em>, and she loved <em>him</em>. +I ought, perhaps, to have known, that he was +not what is called a suitable match for Katharine; +but girls of seventeen, especially upon such +matters, do not always calculate. I am sure <em>I</em> +did not, or I would not have helped her to take +a step which was to make her parents so angry.</p> + +<p>“It was the same blindness in my own case +that permitted me to listen to your professions. +I am not ashamed to own, John, that I loved +you fondly; nor am I ashamed to tell you, +although perhaps you will not believe me, that +the impressions made <em>then</em> remain as strong as +ever. I have not seen you here for more now +than three years. Perhaps it is for the best. +I <em>did</em> see you once, now about four months +since, riding with another gentleman; it was +in the Kent Road. I thought you saw <em>me</em>, +but I am sure I must have been mistaken.</p> + +<p>“What I now write about, cuts me to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>soul! <em>My</em> fate is sealed! and never shall a +murmur of mine for myself cause you a moment’s +uneasiness. The folly was mine: I +alone will suffer!—But there <em>is</em> another to +whom—I scarce can hold my pen to write the +words—to whom, by the strongest ties of nature, +and the sacred word of God, I am bound. +I could not beg of a stranger; my heart +would burst before I could confess my wretchedness;—to +<em>you</em>, John, I <em>can</em> speak. My poor +mother is, I fear, dying. She has been confined +to her bed for several days, and I have +nobody to watch over her but myself. Her +illness has prevented her working, and my constant +attendance upon her, has hindered me +from doing anything myself. Do not be angry +with me, John; what I ask, is not for myself. +She shall bless you for your care of her, and +be grateful for any little aid you may afford +her. When she recovers, she and I will struggle +to repay you.</p> + +<p>“If you required any proof of my unshaken +regard, you might find it in this request. As I +have told you, time and reflection have taught +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>me the folly of my ever considering you more +than a friend,—it is in the character of a dear +friend that I ask this favour for the best of +parents.</p> + +<p>“I have put the address to this letter, which +is the same as the one which was to my last; +but I thought, perhaps, you might have destroyed +it and forgotten the direction. We +have not heard from George for more than two +years, which makes my poor mother very sad; +but we have been told that his regiment is coming +home. You who are so much in the world +could find out in a minute, I know: even if you +did not care about George, you must be anxious +to hear of Katharine, whom you fondly loved, +and who I know loved you with equal affection.</p> + +<p>“I will not take up more of your time. Let +me have one line, to say you have received this. +I shall count the minutes till I get your answer, +which may at all events assure me that you are +not angry with me. God bless you, John—dear +John! and assure yourself of the affectionate +friendship of</p> + +<p class="right p2"> + “Yours, + <span class="smcap">Anne Brown</span>. +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span></p> + +<p>“You will see by the seal of this, how your +present to me was valued, and how it has been +treasured. Adieu.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>This was the letter which Mr. John Brag thrust +into his coat pocket in his mother’s presence, +and which in five minutes afterwards was as +hastily withdrawn from it and thrown into the +fire unopened and unread. “John,” as poor +Anne called him, knew the writing, and with +the low cunning of a vulgar mind, fancied he +could justly anticipate the contents of an appeal +from an amiable woman whom he had deluded +and betrayed, leaving her no consolation in her +desertion but that which she could not fail to +derive from the support of religion and the +consciousness of her own unspotted virtue.</p> + +<p>Yes, Anne, the humble unpretending Anne, +was still the gentle, modest creature he had +found her. Her mind was, perhaps, not so very +highly cultivated as others in the world, nor +were her accomplishments so numerous, but +she was a woman; and kindness, duty, devotion, +and disinterestedness were blended in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>composition of her character. Mr. John Brag +would probably have described her in different +terms, had he ever permitted himself to speak +of her, and perhaps would have affected to +pity the “poor creature,” while he laughed at +her fondness and credulity. Mr. John Brag +was a great talker, and everybody knows what +that is. The nature and extent of his feelings +and regard for the once loved of his earlier days +may easily be ascertained, by the way in which +he treated her appeal. He stood and looked +at the flames as they scorched and finally consumed +the paper, and quitted the room perfectly +satisfied with his firmness and philosophy, +thinking, as it appeared, with Lord Monteagle’s +anonymous friend, that “the danger was past +as soon as he had burned the letter.”</p> + +<p>The writing this letter to one whom she yet +believed in heart devoted to her, although withheld +from making her his wife by considerations +first instilled into his mind by his late +father, and, for all she knew, kept alive by +his surviving parent, cost poor Anne a severe +struggle. When it was despatched, it became +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>the sole object of her consideration from morning +till night. The doubt whether she had done +wrong,—whether John would think ill of her, +or fancy her mercenary or presuming,—whether +he would receive it as she hoped, and come perhaps +himself, bearing the relief she sought for +her poor mother,—whether he would make a +point of taking it to her on the day upon which +the application reached him, the day upon one +anniversary of which he had given her the very +seal with which she had sealed it,—whether it +might awaken feelings which she was sure he +possessed, but which, for the reasons we have +just stated, had been suffered to lie dormant,—and +whether——!</p> + +<p>But vain were all her hopes—groundless all +her fears,—by one rude blow the bond between +them had been eternally severed; and while +the poor anxious Anne was pondering these +things in her mind, Mr. John Brag was dining +at the Ship Tavern at Greenwich, with a party +of uncommonly fine fellows, who, in spite of +those leviathans of the deep, the steam-ships, +which agitate the surface of the once silver +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>Thames into a sort of metropolitan sea, had +pulled down from Whitehall in their accustomed +blue shirts, to partake of the fare for which, +as well as its hospital, Greenwich is so famous.</p> + +<p>Day passed after day, and, as the reader may +easily anticipate, Anne and her application remained +unnoticed. In <em>her</em> mind this silence +was associated with some calamity which must +have befallen John, and this apprehension added +to her other griefs and anxiety; meanwhile, her +mother’s illness increased, and, almost without +the common necessaries of life, Anne was at all +hazards forced to call in medical assistance.</p> + +<p>She had here again a difficult, a delicate +task to perform, but it was a duty, a filial duty; +and who can doubt that the well-regulated +mind of this now humble girl was soon made +up as to the course she was to pursue? The +reader may have noticed the expression, “<em>now</em> +humble,” it is meant that he should notice it, +because, humble as was and had been the position +of the mother and her two children, they +had been born to better things. Anne’s father +was the son of a Bristol merchant who had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>amassed considerable property, to which his son +succeeded. He married early, and, contrary to +the advice of his friends, left his native city to +enter upon a new field of speculation in London.</p> + +<p>Those who remember the wonderful prospects +held out in the year 1825, and who perhaps are +even yet suffering from the effects of their vast +and sudden destruction, may anticipate the termination +of Mr. Brown’s career at an earlier period. +Those who at the present moment are assailed +on every side by the most plausible professions +and the most tempting offers of fortunes incalculable, +by an embarkation in the variously +diverging abominations called rail-roads, and +who fancy a dividend is at hand before a spade +has been struck in the ground, which it is proposed +to disfigure and destroy for the lucre of +gain, had better take warning by it.—For some +two or three years Mr. Brown occupied a handsome +house, his table was open to his numerous +mercantile friends, and, in those days, everything +that Mr. Brown possessed was of the best, +everything he did was of the wisest. The war +which the triumph of Waterloo so gloriously +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>closed, was, at the time of Mr. Brown’s prosperity, +raging fiercely; every foreign port was +closed by an embargo; the market was safely +shut against the importation of an article in +general demand, of which he held a considerable +quantity. The fine and liberal notion struck +him of buying up at all hazards and all prices +this desirable commodity:—he did so,—and, +although as a young beginner in London not +much known, he had agents all over the Empire, +who were employed by him to keep incessantly +purchasing, until warehouse after warehouse was +stored with it, and he became nearly the only +holder in the kingdom. Thus, having long before +expended all his capital in the pursuit, he proposed +to regulate the market with the turn of his +finger. The price advanced, he still held; it advanced +yet more; and he began to doubt whether +he had screwed it up to a pitch sufficiently +high to answer his purpose, and make him a <i lang="fr">millionaire</i>; +when, one fine morning, an order in +council suddenly and unexpectedly opened the +long-closed ports, and the next week beheld, +Mr. Brown an irretrievably ruined bankrupt.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span></p> + +<p>In the pursuit of his infatuating speculation +his engagements had become incalculably enormous, +and the consequent securities unbounded. +The shock of such a reverse was too much for +such a mind, and in the midst of recklessness, +remorse, and despair, he consummated all his +other madnesses by suicide.</p> + +<p>In the hour of distress, it was shown that no +provision had been made for his widow and two +children. His connexions at Bristol were few, +and those, greatly offended at his quitting his +native city, did not feel at all disposed to relieve +his relict, whom, however unjustly, they +thought proper, conveniently enough in order to +save their own pence, to denounce as the first +cause of his increased rate of living, to support +which he had had recourse to extraordinary means +of gain; and when all was done that <em>could</em> be +done, an annuity of forty pounds a year was +secured for her, by a subscription amongst a +few of her husband’s friends in London.</p> + +<p>The fall was sudden, dreadful; at that period +her son George was about eighteen, Anne +about twelve. George had received a fair education +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span>at a school at Clapton or Hackney, I now +forget which, and was a fine handsome grown +young man. Anne was almost too young to appreciate +the full extent of her misfortune, and +her affectionate disposition led her thus early to +devote all her care to her surviving parent, to +whom the change in their circumstances and +station, to her almost unaccountable, only +endeared her the more.</p> + +<p>George was old enough to know the whole +truth, and to feel the bitterness of repulse +when his mother tried to procure him a mercantile +situation in the city, and being of a +bold and resolute character, he left his home +without any communication with either his mother +or sister, and enlisted in an infantry regiment, +then in Ireland. It was not until his +scheme had been irrevocably completed, that +he imparted the truth to his parent, and then +returning to receive her blessing, departed for +the Emerald Isle with a sort of negative concurrence +on her part, obtained by the expression +of his determination upon the point, and +an avowal that, if he even could obtain footing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>in any merchant’s counting-house, he felt assured +that his disposition and feelings would +not permit him to continue in it.</p> + +<p>George’s removal from her care and charge, +however much she lamented the separation, of +course relieved the widow from considerable +expense; and the little Anne was not yet of an +age to require much outlay; for her mother, +who had been cruelly misrepresented by her +late husband’s connexions as being the cause +and origin of his follies, was of a most domestic +turn of mind, and sufficiently accomplished +to instruct her daughter in as much of ornamental +education as it was probable she ever +would require.</p> + +<p>Still it was evident that the annuity which +was secured to her would not be sufficient +to support them without additions derivable +from some other source; and thus it was that +she formed the resolution of retiring to one of +the villages near town, and turning the minor +accomplishments which she possessed, to account, +in order to increase her income. This she +did, and, under the blessing of Providence, successfully. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>Undisturbed by the inquiries of any +of the friends of her prosperity, but encouraged +by the respectable inhabitants of the +neighbourhood in which she had fixed her humble +abode, she obtained by the sale of numerous +fancy articles of her own making, and by even +humbler employments, a sufficient income to +render <em>her</em> happy, inasmuch as it secured the +society of her beloved daughter. In Bristol +and its neighbourhood the name of Brown, common +as it is, might from circumstances have +attracted the unpleasant curiosity of some, and +entailed upon her the equally disagreeable +commiseration or condemnation—coming hand +in hand, perhaps—of others; but in the neighbourhood +of London few people, out of his +own immediate circle, knew the victim of ill-fated +ambition, and all that was said of Mrs. +Brown in the village in which she located herself +was, that she was a remarkably nice civil +lady-like person, and had evidently been born +much above the station she then filled.</p> + +<p>It was about two years after George’s departure +from the home he had scarcely inhabited, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span>that the acquaintance between Katharine Brag +and Nancy Brown commenced. It originated +in the fact that Mrs. Brown, anxious that her +child should improve herself upon certain points +of education beyond those to which she might +herself be competent to lead her, or rather, if +the truth were told, finding that more regularity +and restraint were necessary to settle the +habits and fix the attention of her child, than +were likely to be observed or enforced at home, +resolved on sending her as a day scholar to +Lavender Lodge, the “Seminary for young +Ladies,” at which Miss Brag was—in all probability +as a set-off for soap and candles—being +polished up to perfection—this special favour +being granted to the widow on account of +her exemplary conduct, and the universal respect +in which she was held.</p> + +<p>With the girls at Lavender Lodge, little +Anne soon became an amazing favourite and a +general pet. The very circumstance of her returning +home to dinner, and quitting her companions +after school hours, gave her a sort of +distinction, and made her, as it were, the medium +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>of intelligence, and even of communication, +by which contraband luxuries were sometimes +smuggled in, and what are technically +called “slip-letters,” from the bigger girls to +their friends, were smuggled out of the seminary. +By these acts of kindness, the impropriety +of which Nancy was then not old enough +perfectly to comprehend, she was quite the +fashion, and the boarders were unanimous in +treating her with kindness and affection.</p> + +<p>Amongst her greatest friends was Katharine +Brag, who was more than ordinarily good-natured +to her, and during the three years Miss +Brag remained at school before she was pronounced +everything that heart could wish, +Anne had grown up to be more than sixteen +years of age—and had so far gained the confidence +of the head of the establishment, that it +seemed more than probable she might eventually +become a permanent assistant in its duties. Circumstances, +however, occurred to put an end to +this probability; for a lady who had taken considerable +interest in Mrs. Brown’s success, made +a proposal to her to establish herself in the village +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>of Walworth, near London, where she was +certain she could ensure her support and patronage +in the sale of her various works, as well as +in the art and mystery of dress-making, which +the industrious mother had studied, and now +practised, to maintain herself and her child. +This offer, superadded to the desire of Anne +herself to contribute her share of labour to +their joint maintenance, decided their removal.</p> + +<p>This change of habitation tended rather to +confirm the friendship of Miss Brag for her +friend; for it was effected just about the period +at which that young lady finally quitted +school. The amiable manners of Anne again +became her passport into the society of the +elder Brags; and although she was received as +the humble companion of the young lady, she +was so genteel and so clever that they thought +(much strengthened in their opinions by that +of their daughter) that it was greatly to her +advantage to have such a companion.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this happy communion, and +just as John Brag had begun to look at Anne +with eyes not quite indifferent, her brother +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>George arrived at home on leave of absence from +his regiment, previous to its departure for +India. He was then a fine handsome young +man, of two or three and twenty. The military +drillings he had undergone had set him +up, and his figure was just what a figure +ought to be. The career he had run since +he entered the army had been honourable and +satisfactory. The notice of his officers had +very early after his enlistment been attracted +to the attention, regularity, and assiduity +with which he performed all his military duties; +and a rumour having soon got about that +he was something better than he seemed to +be, he was taken notice of by the captain +of his company, who, after inquiries, not +further pushed than he felt consistent with +delicacy, and the evident desire of the young +man himself for a certain degree of concealment, +suggested him as a fit occupant of the +office of paymaster’s clerk, for which it was +evident he was fully qualified:—he was speedily +raised to be a corporal, and before his first +four years of service were expired, had become +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>serjeant-major of his regiment, a circumstance +perhaps unparalleled in the British +service.</p> + +<p>In one of those moments which decide the +fate of empires and of ladies, Katharine Brag +met George Brown; it took but one glance +of his bright eyes to scorch her susceptible +heart, and unfortunately or fortunately, as the +case may be, George Brown reciprocated the +feeling. It was no difficult matter to get Anne +to agree to Katharine’s avowal, that she had +never seen so charming a person,—an officer too,—the +thing of all others; for the immediate +rank of the young hero “in mufti” was never +explicitly defined; and while she was contriving +all sorts of devices to enjoy his society in the +participation of the various amusements of +middling life, her brother John, who had become +great friends with George for the sake of +his sister, fell into all their arrangements with +the greatest readiness; so that every day in +which they could manage it, little parties were +made for Exhibitions, Panoramas, and all the +Vauxhalls, Lyceums, Playhouses, and places +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span>of public resort, where either during the performance +or after it was over, they might so +satisfactorily pair off, as to leave themselves +counterchanged in couples, to the unqualified +delights of that sort of honeyed conversation, +to which it is as impossible to do justice in +the repetition, as it is barbarous to interrupt in +its progress.</p> + +<p>After the play, as George was with her, +Anne would stop to supper with the old Brags; +and then, as John Brag was fond of exercise, +he would see George and his sister home to +Walworth after supper was over; and so they +went on, until John was desperately in love with +Anne, and Katharine resolved upon marrying +George.</p> + +<p>Katharine believed that she had great influence +over her father, and, from what Anne had +told her of her origin, never imagined but +that she should procure his consent to her marriage +with George,—an affair which “pressed,” +inasmuch as his leave would be out in about +three weeks, and away he must march with his +regiment. So Katharine, one fine afternoon, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>just gently touched upon the subject of Mr. +Brown’s good qualities, in a <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with her +papa, and led the conversation into a channel +which she thought very likely to extort an +opinion from the old gentleman. She was right;—she +succeeded in her speculation, and heard, +to her infinite horror and amazement, that he +would see a daughter of his dead at his feet +before she should marry what he called a +“Soger.”</p> + +<p>And then forthwith “flared up” the anger +of the venerable Brag, who, though a really +plain straightforward man, and as free from +pride or affectation as any wax and tallow +chandler within the bills of mortality, became +absolutely furious at the notion of this dress-maker +and her brother,—people admitted only +just to please his daughter’s fancy,—presuming +and daring, and all <em>that</em>: which fury ended +in a positive prohibition of any further intercourse +between the parties; a mandate for which +was accordingly issued, sanctioned of course by +Mrs. Brag, who however, in yielding her accordance +to the decree, could not help thinking +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>that Anne and her brother were as nice a couple +of people as ever she had seen in all her born +days.</p> + +<p>It was at this juncture that the friendship of +Anne for Katharine Brag and her affection for +George were called into action. It was then +she contrived meetings for them, to which Kate +came escorted by John, and George accompanied +by herself. Up to this period these had +been matters of course; but when old Brag shut +his doors against the Browns, and handed his +daughter over to the care and surveillance of her +brother John, it became another sort of affair, +and as John was too happy to bask in Nancy’s +smiles, he gladly squired his love-sick sister to +their appointments; and thus matters went on +for a fortnight or so, when Kitty Brag ran away +with the young Sergeant, who, having as well as +his bride attained the years of discretion, procured +a licence and became man and wife,—a fact +which came to the knowledge of the respectable +parents of the bride by her non-appearance at +breakfast, and a return of “<i lang="la">non est inventa</i>” +made to a sort of warrant sent after her into +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>her bed-room, whence she had decamped very +early indeed in the morning.</p> + +<p>From that morning neither Brag the elder +nor Mrs. Brag had ever seen their child up to +the period of the commencement of my narrative; +Mr. Brag, as we know, had been gathered +to his fathers; and George and his wife were +still in India.</p> + +<p>After the wedding and flight the proscribed +Anne used to see John, who contrived, unknown +to the old people, to visit her and her mother +as usual. This acquaintance was for some time +continued as the reader may have already discovered; +its happy termination being only delayed, +as Brag had himself said, until the death of his +father should leave him free to act for himself. +Meanwhile the said father having then but one +object left upon which to lavish all his paternal +affection, gave his son counsel and promises +which led him to aspire, and, as he said, “look +up,” and so Johnny by degrees became less ardent +and infinitely more civil towards Miss +Brown, until by those gentle gradations of coolness +which fond and anxious hearts can only +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>justly estimate, she saw him seldom, and heard +from him rarely. His father’s death occurred,—Brag +immediately took a higher flight, and +having furbished himself up by dint of private +lessons and evening tuition, was ready, when +he came into possession of the business, to abandon +the course which his blinded parent had +pursued, to enable him to cut a figure, and +became the thing which the reader has already +seen him to be.</p> + +<p>The intelligence which Mrs. Brown had from +time to time received of George was extremely +satisfactory; he had been specially noticed by +Major Mopes, (the military secretary of Sir Cadwallader +Adamthwaite, the commander-in-chief +at the presidency,) who had, upon the recommendation +of the paymaster of the regiment, +whose clerk he had been, appointed him to a +similar situation in his office; a step which +George, who was full of ambition, wrote home +to say he hoped might lead to better things.</p> + +<p>What they might be, Mrs. Brown of Walworth +did not exactly understand; however, he +appeared happy, spoke affectionately of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>wife, and looked forward to the next ten or +fifteen years as likely to bring him home again. +To Anne, a prospective view of ten or fifteen +years was but a sad one; the loss of Katharine +had been to her severe and trying, and +every month, and every year grew sadder, until +at last the only consolation left which she +derived from George’s letters, was lost, and at +the time she wrote the appeal to John, with +which the chapter begins, she had not, as she +says, heard from him for more than two +years.</p> + +<p>Then it was that real sorrow and bitterness +of heart came over her,—her mother’s illness, +her brother’s silence, her lover’s falsehood, her +own destitution,—it was a dreadful combination +of evils, against which she had to bear up. +One other blow was only wanting to overwhelm +her,—and it fell.</p> + +<p>There <em>are</em> moments when the most serious +calamities affect us less than matters which to +the million may appear of no moment or importance +whatever; a look, a frown, a smile, +nothing in themselves, have, when the mind is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>wrought up to a certain pitch of excitement, +a power more dreadful than the gravest evils +of another day.</p> + +<p>I have already said that, after waiting for an +answer to the letter she wrote to “John,”—on +her birth-day,—sealed with his seal,—and +moistened with her tears—(the letter he destroyed +unread),—she felt the absolute necessity +of overcoming all scruples, and conquering +all repugnance to what might be considered the +solicitation of charity in favour of her mother; +and accordingly she set forth from +their humble dwelling, leaving her sinking parent +in the care of a temporary nurse, to call +upon a well-known professional man in the +neighbourhood of Burlington Gardens, of +whom she had often heard the lady who +first induced them to take up their abode in +Walworth (but who now was herself dead)—speak +in the highest terms. Anne had indeed +seen him at that lady’s house, and felt that +that circumstance gave her something like confidence +to make an appeal to him on behalf +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>of her sick mother, which she would not have +felt with regard to a perfect stranger.</p> + +<p>Behold then this fair, fond, and affectionate +daughter on her way—trembling and doubting, +as she hurried along the crowded streets,—her +eyes cast down or heedlessly wandering, while +her thoughts are all concentered on the pillow +on which her dying mother’s aching head +was laid; a prayer to Heaven resting on her +lips, and hope, strengthened and sanctified by +the silent appeal, glowing in her heart. Just +as she reaches the neighbourhood of the +worthy man who is to minister worldly relief +to her parent’s afflictions, her way is intercepted,—there +is a crowd—a stoppage,—she is +rudely pressed upon,—stared at, by an unmeaning +insolent countenance belonging to a tall, +tiger-looking, smoke-dried dandy, upon whose +arm is leaning a short, smart, vulgar-genteel +companion. The tall fellow continues his gaze +for a moment; the short fellow, emulating this +impertinence, and anxious to behold the beauty +who has attracted his friend’s attention, proceeds +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>to the manual experiment of pinching +her arm. The suffering wanderer turns indignantly +to repel the insult, and sees before +her, grinning and grimacing, like a baboon, +that paragon of pretension, Mr. John +Brag.</p> + +<p>At such a moment such a sight was, indeed, +a trial;—but if it struck daggers into her heart +thus to be treated by <em>him</em>, who once, and in +other days, had vowed his vow of love and +faith to her, what must she have felt, when, +upon beholding her pallid agitated countenance, +she saw the fellow wink at his companion, +and heard him exclaim with the peculiar +elegance of the school to which he aspired to +belong, “Ho, ho,—come along, my lord—no +go—this <em>is</em> a mistake,”—and clutching +his tall friend’s arm, hurry on, shrugging up +his shoulders in a sort of mock despair, and +no doubt giving his own version of the nature +of the previous acquaintance which had +evidently subsisted between himself and the +supposed stranger!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> + +<p>Anne stood still for a moment—had she tried +to move forward, she would have fallen;—her +breath faltered—the blood seemed to ebb and +flow in her heart—her eyes swam with tears;—she +was better,—she continued her way, and +reached the physician’s door,—it was opened +to her, and she was shown into a parlour where +those who came under similar circumstances were +accustomed to wait:—there it was that her +feelings had way,—she scarcely had entered, +before floods of tears poured down her pale +cheeks, and they who had come for advice and +assistance themselves, were eager and active in +her service. As soon as intelligence of the circumstance +had been conveyed to the master of +the house, he made his appearance in the apartment, +and seeing the extent of poor Anne’s agitation, +caused her to be removed into another +room, where every attention was paid her which +the exigency of her case required.</p> + +<p>Her agitation, however, appeared to increase, +and the moment she was sufficiently recovered +to attempt <span id="TN5">to explain herself</span>, she relapsed into +a state so painful and alarming, that the excellent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>man, satisfied by the circumstances that +she was laboring under some excitement, any +attempt to soothe which, upon the instant +would be perfectly vain and useless, placed +her in the care of his housekeeper, (for whom he +dispatched a servant,) with directions to keep +the young lady perfectly quiet, and endeavour +to soothe and calm her mind until he +should return, after having seen those patients +who were in the habit, at stated hours, of calling +upon <em>him</em> at his own house.</p> + +<p>And while all this was going on, Mr. John +Brag and his friend Lord Tom Towzle, who, +as the reader perhaps has anticipated, was +his companion upon the occasion, and whom +although he “Tommied” him and “Towzled” +him in his absence, he “my lorded” in his +presence to an immeasurable extent of vulgarity, +not merely to toady the stripling but +to be overheard by the passing crowd—were, +as I suspected, engaged in an elaborate detail of +Jack’s foregone adventures with Anne, which, as +Lord Tom did not care whether Brag were hanged +or not, so as he rode his horse “Slap-bang” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>to win on the following Thursday, he might +just as well have saved himself the trouble +of repeating.</p> + +<p>Upon what small things great things turn, +say ten thousand writers,—so is it proved by +this adventure of Mr. Brag’s. Worlds would +not have convinced Anne Brown of his falsehood +and heartlessness, had this event not occurred; +they were now proclaimed—established,—practically +established. His first +assault might have been mere rudeness,—not +likely to endear him to one who fancied +him devoted to her; but when the discovery +<em>had been</em> made, and he saw whom he had +outraged, to conduct himself as he had done, +was enough to decide the question. Thus it is +that we learn more in an hour from a lecture +illustrated by experiments, than we can collect +from written treatises or printed instructions +in a year. The art, or science, whatever it +may be, is embodied,—you have it before you,—and +the very facility with which the professor +performs his operations, makes the spectator +himself a proficient.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p> + +<p>So was it with Anne:—she had seen what +no book could have taught her, she had witnessed +<em>that</em> which no other evidence would have +induced her to believe. The blow was severe, +but perhaps it was providential.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V"> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Having safely housed our unhappy girl in +the house of the worthy physician, we may perhaps +be permitted to cast our eyes towards +the gay widow and her sensitive sister, who, +truth to be told, were suffering as much in +<em>their</em> way as our more humble friend from +Walworth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallington, whose perception was remarkably +clear, and whose judgment was particularly +sound, had for some time been fully +aware of the state of Sir Charles Lydiard’s +heart and mind—for his mind and his heart +were waging a perpetual war with each other; +nor, however solicitous she might be (I admit +that supposition merely for argument’s sake) to +bring their acquaintance to a happy termination, +did she entirely regret the caution and consideration +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span>with which, it was so evident, the fastidious +baronet bent his steps towards the +hymeneal altar. She felt assured that, if he +judged her rightly and fairly, she should eventually +possess his entire affection; and she also +felt, that to obtain it after such a scrutiny, +would be to secure it for the rest of her +life.</p> + +<p>It must be allowed that she sometimes +thought he had considered and examined and +scrutinized quite long enough, and believed +that the time had arrived when she should +have an opportunity of saying yea or nay, as +the case might be; but, whenever the crisis +seemed at hand, some new doubt, some new +apprehension, appeared to be conjured up, +the bright vision was dissipated, and she remained +still the expecting, disappointed Mrs. +Dallington.</p> + +<p>Blanche, on the other hand, received a proposal +from Rushton almost every day in the +week—if at least the most violent protestations +of love and devotion might be so construed; but +the <i lang="fr">brusquerie</i> of his character evinced itself so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>perpetually, that the chances were, that the evening +of the brightest day ended in a storm. Blanche +was quite aware of the disposition she had to +deal with; and although flurried and fluttered +by her lover’s extraordinary animation and vivacity, +she resolved not to surrender her hand, +whatever might be the fate of her heart, until +she was convinced that her hero was calmed +into a fit state for domestication. In point of +fact, Rushton was quite as jealous of Blanche +as Lydiard was of her sister; but his jealousy +was of a different caste: he smiled, frowned, +laughed, scolded, and did ten thousand unaccountable +things, just as he was acted upon +by passing events, while Lydiard never suffered +himself to be betrayed into any external +evidence of what occupied his mind: and +thus the pair of lovers continued to make themselves +as uncomfortable as they made those, +whom upon all essential points were devotedly +their own.</p> + +<p>Affairs were in this delicate position when +Brag, who was encouraged in all his absurdities +by his noble friend Lord Tom, partly to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>gratify his vanity, and so secure his aid, if required, +upon emergencies, and partly to afford +sport to his lordship’s friends, opened his heart +in a kind of hypothetical way to the young +lord with regard to the widow and her sister, +to which train of thought he had been led by +the conversation he had previously had with +Rushton in the street.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see,” said Jack, “why—I—shouldn’t +do as well as my neighbours, in the +matrimonial line. I look on, at others who play +at courting with wonder; they seem to me to +make no move. Now there’s Sir Charles Lydiard +and the widow—they don’t care a fig for +each other, and yet they are to be married, as +the world says. As for Blanche, she seems to +me to care as little for Rushton. Why, hang it! +if I wanted to marry either of them, it would +not be a week’s work. No, no!—faint heart—eh! +you know. I’d just make either of them +buckle to, in half the time, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever thought of such a thing, +Jack?” said Lord Tom, who, piqued by the +coldness with which the widow had always +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>received him, felt by no means ill-disposed to +encourage his tiger in any scheme likely to +make a commotion in the family.</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Jack, “I can’t say that I +have; but I—of course, I dare say it means no +more than what I always meet with—but I +<em>have</em> thought that there was something uncommon +odd about the widow’s eyes.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said Lord Tom,—“and very +handsome eyes they are too: besides, Jack, +she is rich, and what they call in the city +‘well to do.’”</p> + +<p>“Mum!” said Jack—“know her fortune to +a fraction: didn’t overlook that in the calculation.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said his lordship—“then you <em>have</em> +been thinking rather seriously upon the subject.”</p> + +<p>“Not seriously,” replied the tiger, “only I +was considering that Sir Charles is what I call +losing time—waiting upon her too long, as we +should say at Epsom. It would be a good +match,—not that I care for money—no more +than my father did. Did I ever tell you of +my governor and his hundred-pound note?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> + +<p>“Not that I recollect,” said his lordship, +although he did.</p> + +<p>“Why, <em>my</em> father,” said Jack, “was one day +walking along the Strand, when, just as he came +by the end of Buckingham Street, a fellow +picked his pocket of his pocket-book, full of +memorandums, letters, and other papers, “of no +use but to the owner,” and a hundred pound +note besides. What d’ye think he did, as soon +as he found out his loss?”</p> + +<p>“Went to Bow Street, perhaps,” said Lord +Tom.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Stepped to the Bank and stopped it.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t—didn’t know the number.”</p> + +<p>“Caught the thief, then.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Jack, “not a bit of it. The +minute he found he had lost it, he went home +and got another.”</p> + +<p>“In order to have it stolen like the former,” +said Lord Tom.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it,” replied Jack; “just to show +how little he cared about money. So with <em>me</em>; +I don’t care for money, except as it buys money’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>worth. What’s a guinea in a box?—not +better than a brass button in a bag. But still +one cannot marry without the stumpy.”</p> + +<p>“Then try the widow,” said Lord Tom; +“you have my full permission—only don’t quote +me as authority. You will drive Sir Charles +either into a proposal or the Serpentine river; +so at all events something will come of it.”</p> + +<p>“But, my lord,” said Jack, “since we <em>have</em> +touched upon this matter, I will be candid. +I have just said I don’t value money; but, if it +weren’t for the fortune, I would rather marry +the sister.”</p> + +<p>“And has <em>she</em> been kind too,” said Lord +Tom.</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Jack, simpering, and affecting +to look modest, “I can’t say kind—uncommon +goodnatured—and—laughs—and all that: and +I have heard a long-headed old fellow, who +knows the sex, say, that if you can once make +a grave female laugh, the day is your own.”</p> + +<p>“Provided always,” said his lordship, “that +she laughs <em>with</em> and not <em>at</em> you; the difference +is surprisingly great.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh! Blanche is no ways whatsoever satirical,” +said the tallow chandler:—“and, hang +me! if I was asked, I should say there wasn’t +a pin to choose between them.”</p> + +<p>“Take my advice, Jack,” said the mischievous +lordling—“try them both. Manage your +matters well—lead them both on—there is no +chance of their confiding in each other, because +as they are both supposed to be engaged, neither +would choose to trust the other with any +proof of her infidelity.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I write to the widow,” said Jack, +“and talk to the sister”—</p> + +<p>“Write, man! are you mad?” said Lord +Tom. “Never write—that <em>would</em> be a pretty +affair. Who knows how notes may miscarry—how +writing-desks may be left open, or if not, +be broken open? Besides, they might, upon +so strange a proceeding as that, compare notes, +and what a pretty mess you would be in then! +No; sound them—try them—get them apart, +and ascertain the extent of their interest in you.”</p> + +<p>Brag listened to all this advice of his noble +friend, believing it to be given <i lang="fr">de bonne foi</i>; and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>although there appeared difficulties in the delicate +process which his lordship suggested, and +which, by a mind like Brag’s, were not perfectly +easy to be surmounted, he thought he comprehended +the general tenor of his instructions, +which had for its object his making himself +uncommonly agreeable to both parties.</p> + +<p>“Lead Blanche on,” said Lord Tom, “by a +course of negative officiousness; be always near +her, devoted and unaffected. Let her fall into +friendship; sympathize with her in all her feelings, +agree in all her opinions—but never seem to +do so with any defined object: thus in a fortnight +or three weeks you will obtain her confidence. +She will be convinced you esteem her and value +her, and are anxious for her comfort and happiness; +then she’ll grow kind and familiar, +and, thrown off her guard by your respectful +behaviour, will begin to evince an undisguised +wish for your society. She will at last feel +that you are somehow, she can scarcely tell how, +essential to her happiness, and when you have +got her into this blessed state of amiability, off +with your disguise of friendship, like the hero +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>of a tragedy, and profess yourself her lover. +Then”—</p> + +<p>“Ay, ay,” interrupted Jack, “that’s all +very well, my dear lord, and a very pretty +month’s amusement it would be, to do all you +prescribe: but, then, what will Frank Rushton +be about to let me? He’s as fiery as a dragon, +and as jealous as old Nick. No, no, whatever +is done, must be done clean, off-hand, smack +smooth, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Lord Tom, “if that’s your +principle, you had better take a shot at the +widow; she’s not so likely to be flurried by a +hurry; and, besides, your activity will form +such a striking contrast to the respectable icicle +now hanging about her, that you will in all probability +carry the day by a <i lang="fr">coup de main</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Just after my own heart,” said Jack; “by +Job! I’ll have a shy at her.”</p> + +<p>“Do,” said his lordship, “and when you +are installed in the town-house and family mansion +in the west or north, or wherever it is, +make yourself agreeable; fill your house with +your friends, and let us be jolly.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span></p> + +<p>“We’ll live like fighting cocks,” said Jack, +“you only just see. I’ll do it regular; there +sha’nt be a fellow in the king’s dominions who +shall beat me.”</p> + +<p>“Success attend you, Jack!” said his lordship, +“but don’t forget Thursday.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be punctual to the minute,” said Jack; +“my watch is a regular-built chronometer. You +shall find me at the starting-post, all right, and +no mistake.”</p> + +<p>And so the friends parted, Brag having not +the slightest intention of ever risking a second +visit to Wrigglesford, or a second attempt to +trespass on the surly farmer’s grounds, who had +threatened him for his former proceeding; and +moreover being resolved to devote the next +few days to the achievement of one of the beauties, +of both of whom he was convinced, in his +small mind, he was a regularly established +favourite.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile we must not forget poor Anne +Brown, whom we left under the care of the +physician’s housekeeper, and who, when she +recovered from the agitation which kept her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>senseless for some hours, found herself with her +head reclining upon the arm of that highly +respectable functionary.</p> + +<p>It would require a much greater space than +I am permitted in this hasty narrative, to describe +the excellent qualities of Dr. Mead, the +eminent and able practitioner to whom the +anxious daughter had prevailed upon herself +to apply for advice and assistance; but it is +absolutely necessary that the reader should be +made acquainted to a certain extent with the +attributes of his character, even beyond the +pale of his profession, the exercise of which +seemed rather the fruit of a desire to do good +to others, than of any venal feeling of self-aggrandizement.</p> + +<p>Although there exists no documentary evidence +to prove his descent from the eminent +physician of the same name, it seems not entirely +improbable that the fortuitous circumstance +of a similarity of patronymic and profession +might have conduced almost unconsciously to a +similarity of feeling and disposition between +them. Matthew Mead, the father of the famous +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>doctor, was a nonconforming divine: our Dr. +Mead’s father was an orthodox clergyman. If +the famous Mead married early, our Mead was +yet single; and whatever turn he might have had +for the fine arts, or whatever veneration he entertained +for their professors, his means, although +fully adequate to the maintenance of a highly +respectable establishment and equipage, were +not yet sufficiently extensive to emulate his +namesake as a patron or protector. Still, his +income might have been much larger, had he +not upon every occasion where, by a benevolent +curiosity, he discovered the slenderness of +a patient’s means, forborne to accept the fees +which from the rich and great he did not hesitate +to accept, and which his spreading fame +and rising reputation produced in very considerable +numbers.</p> + +<p>In his manners mild and soothing, in his conversation +unaffected and intelligent, his study +appeared to be to “minister to the mind diseased,” +as well as to the body; and his approach +to the sick chamber was hailed by the +watchful invalid rather as a relief from pain +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>and suffering in itself, than as the mere business +visit of a professional man, coming in the +ordinary routine of duty to enquire and prescribe.</p> + +<p>With feelings and a disposition like this, +the benevolence of his heart beaming in his +countenance, and the sympathy which he felt +for sorrow and sadness expressed in language +the most gentle and in a tone the most harmonious, +it is not surprising that Dr. Mead should +have speedily reassured poor Anne, to whom, +as soon as she was sufficiently recovered to be +conscious of her situation, he was summoned +by the housekeeper, and whom he was greatly +surprised, upon inquiry, to find not a patient, +but merely the emissary from one who sought +his advice.</p> + +<p>It was in a moment evident to his searching +eye, that the agitation under which she +had been suffering, and from which she was +not yet quite recovered, must have had its origin +in some more sudden event, and one of +more recent occurrence than the illness of her +mother: he resolved to question her upon the +point; but a recurrence of all the worst symptoms +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>induced him to forego any further search +into a matter, in fact, disconnected with the +object of her visit to his house.</p> + +<p>That object was immediately attained. The +excellent man ordered his carriage to be got +ready instantly, and directed the housekeeper, +who had been in attendance on Anne, to accompany +her to her mother’s house, and to return +home with the carriage, telling her that he +would himself, having called upon one or two +patients in his immediate neighbourhood on foot, +proceed to visit his new patient at a later hour; +giving as a reason for this proceeding the absolute +necessity of his seeing those persons before +his departure for Walworth, and the probable +anxiety of Mrs. Brown for the safety of her +daughter, if she should delay her return until +he should be able to accompany her.</p> + +<p>To some practitioners, this delicacy on the +part of our doctor might appear somewhat too +refined, the obvious mode of proceeding being, +to have handed the young lady into the carriage, +and driven with her to her mother’s residence; +but Mead felt otherwise. He had odd +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>notions upon many points; and beyond what +he considered the main object of this arrangement, +the fact, that an entirely unexpected +visit from a stranger might not altogether suit +the convenience of an establishment so confined +as that of Mrs. Brown’s, did not slip his +regard or consideration.</p> + +<p>When Anne reached home, she had a hard +part to play. The anxiety she felt for her mother; +the pang she received when she saw the +sunken eye of her beloved parent fixed—not +tearless—on her returned child, filled with a +half-sanguine, half-hopeless expression, and +heard her breathing heavily, made her heart +ache to its very centre. Filled with gratitude to +their expected benefactor, she endeavoured to +explain to her suffering mother the extent of +his kindness and consideration, while the recollection +of the callous barbarity of the man she +had once loved, and whom she believed to have +loved <em>her</em>, wrung her to the very soul.</p> + +<p>That she was indignant at the treatment she +had experienced, who shall doubt?—but who, +that knows woman, will doubt either that in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>heart where Love has once dwelt, the very memory +of his presence there, will extenuate the +fault which should make the object hateful.</p> + +<p>This generous, gentle feeling turned all the +force of the indignation which ought to have been +directed against the paltry pretender himself, +towards his associates, to whose baleful influence +Anne entirely attributed the astounding change +which had taken place in his manners. Even +the neglect of her letter was laid to the same +account; but yet what made the wound he had +inflicted rankle the more, was the impossibility +at the present juncture of risking her mother’s +tranquillity—perhaps existence, by telling her +what had occurred, or of accounting for her +lengthened absence by explaining the cause of +the indisposition to which it was attributable.</p> + +<p>In less than two hours after Anne’s return +the doctor, true to his promise, arrived. It +is scarcely possible to describe her feelings as +he entered the room where her mother lay; it +seemed as if Hope had revived in her breast—that +there was somebody who felt an interest +for them. She drew back from the bed-side, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span>and hid her face in her hands to conceal her +emotion: she cried like a child, and tears again +were a relief to her aching heart.</p> + +<p>The kind doctor’s questions to Mrs. Brown +were few: the case needed little enquiry—it +was a sinking of nature, caused, as it seemed to +him, less by bodily ills than mental affliction, +and considerably accelerated by the want of proper +air, and, he almost feared, nourishment. He +wrote a prescription, rather however as a matter +of form, satisfactory to the patient, than with +any view of the success of medicine, and then, +having taken leave of his patient, beckoned +Anne to follow him from the apartment.</p> + +<p>“Your mother must be removed as soon as +she can bear the fatigue,” said the doctor. +“Change of air and diet are absolutely necessary.”</p> + +<p>Anne heard the fiat in silence, and again +tears rolled down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“I should think,” continued Dr. Mead, +“that with care and a proper regimen the +removal might be effected in four or five days.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p> + +<p>Still Anne remained silent and trembling, +her eyes cast down upon the ground.</p> + +<p>“You should contrive to amuse her mind,” +said the doctor; “she should not refuse to see +her friends.”</p> + +<p>“God help us!” sobbed Anne, unable longer +to conceal her agitation,—“we have no friends! +What is to be done, Heaven knows! She +must be moved; your kind directions shall be +obeyed, sir;—I”—</p> + +<p>“My dear young lady,” said Mead, “you +wrong yourself, and <em>me</em>, when you say you have +no friends. In <em>me</em> you have a friend. Rely on +Providence, and never despair:—friends will +always be raised up for confiding piety, for suffering +virtue, and for filial duty in distress. I +will not indelicately press my enquiries, but you +must permit me to act upon my own advice. +<em>I</em> am the friend your mother must admit. I +will call here to-morrow; and I think, without +putting either of you to much inconvenience, I +can secure you a comfortable residence in a +worthy and respectable family, in a desirable +climate. <em>I</em> must manage all this; and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>perhaps I may be able, at no distant period, to +give you and your mother a good reason why +she need not feel herself under any serious +obligation to me:—upon this point I will not +trouble you to-day,—you have had worry +and agitation enough. Keep yourself calm and +quiet; cheer your mother’s hopes—there is no +fear of a dangerous result; upon that point I +will stake my reputation. Let her have the +medicine I have written for, and to-morrow, by +one, I shall see you again.”</p> + +<p>Saying which, he shook hands with the +grateful Anne, and proceeded to his carriage.</p> + +<p>At no period of our lives does kindness so +powerfully affect us as when it comes immediately +after we have received some cruel blow. +The affectionate tone and spirit of the doctor’s +consolatory address struck to Anne’s heart, and +she returned to her mother, blessing God who +had raised up such a help to them in the +hour of gloom and adversity.</p> + +<p>The doctor’s benevolence did not stop here, +even for the day. In the evening, whilst Anne +was preparing the best refreshment she could +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>contrive to procure with but slender means of +purchase and small skill in cookery, the housekeeper +of the excellent doctor arrived, bringing +with her, sundry little delicacies, and some wine +which her master “had taken the liberty of sending, +because by experience he knew its soundness +and excellence of quality, and was therefore +sure it would be serviceable to his patient +in her particular case;” in short, every comfort +was secured to her that sympathy could suggest +or art provide; and, as Anne herself said, +the very feelings which such attentions inspired, +contributed of themselves materially to exhilarate +and revive her poor mother, whose bodily +ailments, as Mead had surmised, were painfully +aggravated by mental depression.</p> + +<p>And yet, grateful to Providence as Anne +was, with a heart overflowing with thankfulness +to the generous, noble-minded man who in +a few hours had converted a house of mourning +into a house of hope, if not of happiness,—when +she laid her head upon the pillow near +her mother, who slept tranquilly, her first +thoughts were of that unworthy being by whom +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>she had been first insulted and then repudiated +even as a common acquaintance, in the street +that morning.</p> + +<p>It seemed like a dream to her even then. +Prepared as she must have been, and indeed had +told him she was, eternally to resign any claim +of a tender nature upon his heart, she could +not bear the thought of being spurned by the +man for whom she had permitted herself not +only to feel, but admit that she felt, an affection. +That she had not deserved such +usage was self-evident, and that she should +receive it particularly after her last appeal, was +galling and distracting beyond endurance. Little +did she think how perfectly disconnected +with that appeal his conduct was, or suspect +how he had treated her last letter.</p> + +<p>These thoughts, and those of early days, +were naturally blended in her mind with the +memory of her brother George, whose long +silence was another source of anxiety and agitation; +nor could she forget, besides the tenderer +ties to John, the closeness of their connexion +by George’s marriage. If George had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>been at home, thought Anne, he would not have +behaved so—but George too has forgotten us. +All those who once were dear to us, and we to +them, are gone! and we are helped and comforted +by the stranger upon whom we have no +claim, and who has no tie to us but his own +benevolence.</p> + +<p>In the morning, Mrs. Brown awoke after a +refreshing sleep, very much better than even +her watchful daughter could have hoped. It +was but too evident that the physician had +rightly decided on the character of her complaint, +and the absolute necessity of a change +of regimen in the first instance, to be followed +up by a removal from the close atmosphere of +a small room in a gas-lighted suburban village +to a purer air. Indeed, so very much better +did her mother appear, that Anne repeated to +her the verbal prescription of the doctor, adding +the proposal he had made of providing +them with a comfortable residence in a family +known to himself.</p> + +<p>For three days did Dr. Mead continue his +visits punctually, bringing with him upon each +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>occasion some little luxury prepared for use, +under the plea that he was most anxious his +patient’s food should be dressed according to +rule, and that he could not be satisfied unless +his own servants were the operators, under his +own immediate direction. At the expiration of +a week he pronounced her capable of bearing +the fatigue of removal; and on the following +Saturday evening Mrs. Brown and her daughter +found themselves established in a delightful +cottage surrounded by gardens and fields, within +four miles of town, the master and mistress of +which appeared the devoted servants of the worthy +doctor, and vied with each other in showing +attention and courtesy to their new inmates.</p> + +<p>With returning health, there arose in Mrs. +Brown’s mind an irresistible feeling of embarrassment +connected with her present situation. +She found herself and her daughter placed in +a position of ease and comfort, with the consciousness +hanging over her that she was incapable +of affording the luxuries which she was +enjoying, and a sensitive unwillingness either to +trespass upon the kindness of their benefactor, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>or if that kindness were merely limited to the +recommendation of their new residence, equally +anxious not to involve herself in expenses which +she was aware that she could not defray.</p> + +<p>The doctor’s hours of visiting his patient +were different from those which he had fixed +before their removal. He came in the evenings, +partook of their tea, and sat longer and +stayed later each evening that he came—and so +a week wore away—and yet Mrs. Brown had +not the courage to put those questions which she +had resolved somehow to ask, and to which her +medical friend’s conduct certainly did not appear +likely to afford any practical solution; for +when he congratulated her upon the improvement +of her health, he alluded to a trial of +some new medicine, about the effects of which +upon her constitution he was very sanguine, +and which he should begin with, in “a week or +two.”</p> + +<p>The words had scarce passed his lips, when +the eyes of mother and daughter met, not unseen +by the doctor, who immediately added to +what he had already said:—“Perhaps you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span>may be of opinion that in that time you will +have no need of any medicine at all.”</p> + +<p>This seemed to be an occasion which Mrs. +Brown might seize, of coming to an explanation +of her feelings, and she availed herself +of it accordingly; and, difficult as was the +task to perform, she contrived to make the +doctor understand the delicacy of her position, +and the apprehensions under which she +laboured.</p> + +<p>“My dear madam,” said Mead, “I am delighted +that you have given me an opportunity +of speaking upon this matter. As the worthy +people of this house can tell you, or may perhaps +have told you, you are not the first patient +I have recommended to their care; and that +when such an event happens, I consider them +my guests during their residence here. In <em>your</em> +case, however, there are circumstances very different +from those which occur in many others, +as far as I am concerned:—you have, naturally +enough, forgotten <em>me</em>; but we have met before +the occasion upon which I recently visited +you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span></p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said the lady, somewhat incredulously.</p> + +<p>“Indeed,” replied the physician, “I have +dined in your house, madam, more than once. +I was not aware of this fact when first I called +on you, but circumstances and coincidences +led me to institute an enquiry, and I found in +<em>you</em>, madam, the widow of the man to whom I +may, without exaggeration, attribute my success +in life, and the place I now hold in society +and my profession.”</p> + +<p>“You surprise me exceedingly,” said Mrs. +Brown.</p> + +<p>“It is now more than four-and-twenty years +since,” said Dr. Mead, “that I was recommended +to the notice of Mr. Brown by a friend +of his and a connexion of mine, then living at +Bristol; and upon my arrival in London I was, +in consequence of that introduction, invited to +your house, where, as I have already said, I +dined more than once. But it was not by +mere commonplace hospitality that Mr. Brown +proved the warmth and sincerity of his feelings +towards me. Upon one occasion, when an opportunity +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span>presented itself—in all human probability +the deciding opportunity of my life +for furthering my professional views—a sum +of money was necessary to the accomplishment +of my wishes, of which I was not possessed. +Had not Mr. Brown at that time generously +assisted me, I must have relinquished the object +I had in view, the realization of which, +proved, as I have already said, the foundation +of my fortunes. I have now, I think, said sufficient +to overcome all your scruples with regard +to my present conduct; and I only rejoice +that the opportunity is afforded me of proving +to you and this dear young lady, that there is +still in the world such a sentiment as Gratitude.”</p> + +<p>“This is most extraordinary!” said Anne.</p> + +<p>“For several years,” continued Dr. Mead, +“after my return from the Continent, I endeavoured +to find out the widow of my benefactor, +but without success, and I look upon +that as one of the most fortunate hours of my +life in which the suffering daughter of my +first friend came to require my assistance, attracted +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>to me by a reputation which her father +had so materially contributed to establish. +Now,” added he, “you may look on me with +feelings far different from those which have +hitherto occupied your hearts and minds:—in +me you see only the <i lang="fr">protegé</i> endeavouring as +much as in his power lies, to evince his thankfulness +where it is so justly due.”</p> + +<p>“What are we to say to you?” said the +agitated parent.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, nothing,” interrupted Mead. +“Permit me to continue my visits, now, luckily +not rendered professionally necessary. Let +me entreat you to remain where you are, and +allow me, whenever I can, to come hither and +enjoy in your society, and that of your exemplary +daughter, a repose after the hurries and +worries of a London life, which I have long +but vainly sought.”</p> + +<p>Nobody can doubt what, under the circumstances, +was the course Mrs. Brown pursued, +although, it must be confessed, that she even +then, had her doubts as to the truth of the doctor’s +narrative; regarding the statement of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span>obligations to her husband, and his consequent +success in life, rather as the fruits of an inventive +faculty, exerted in order to overcome her +scruples and satisfy her delicacy, than as a +matter-of-fact bit of history.</p> + +<p>Of herself, she had not the slightest recollection +of the name of her new old friend in the +catalogue of visiters at her house; nor could she +recall to her mind the personal appearance of +any guest at her husband’s hospitable board +which bore a resemblance to the doctor. A +quarter of a century had elapsed, and the tallow-faced +pupil of the hospitals had grown into +the mellow-tinted arbiter of the mortal destinies +of men; and if the doctor had been sufficiently +ungallant (which doctors never are) to have +made an ample confession on <em>his</em> part, it is +quite certain he must have said, that he found +not in the sinking widow whom he had restored, +any remains of the charms and attractions which +had in his early days characterized the gay +and dashing wife.</p> + +<p>Poor Brown however had, in the zenith of his +career, been as hospitable as a Madeira merchant, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>and was wont to welcome to his table +men of all trades and nations, all callings and +professions. He held it to be part of his business +to cement connexions by social intercourse, +and therefore while he kept in fact, open house, +it was morally impossible for his lady, who was +not much interested in the casual guests “below +the salt,” to recollect all their names or +persons. Still she could hardly divest herself of +the idea that the doctor’s history was a soothing +fiction; although her daughter, whose opinion +of the said doctor was somehow more +favourable than that of her parent, declared her +conviction that he was much too honourable, +too candid, and too sincere, to endeavour to +carry even a favourite point by deception or +misrepresentation.</p> + +<p>How this paragon of physicians turned out +in the wearing, we may perhaps live to see.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI"> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was a short time after this, that Mr. Brag +was called upon to perform a feat for the amusement +of his aristocratic friends, which, however +powerful the effect it actually did produce, terminated +in a manner less agreeable to the actor +than the audience.</p> + +<p>Upon our hero’s arrival one day at the lodgings +of Lord Tom Towzle, he found his lordship +and two other worthies concocting an answer to +a matrimonial advertisement which had appeared +in the columns of that most fashionable of all +journals, The Morning Post; and Jack’s appearance +to take his seat in such a council was +hailed with enthusiasm;—in fact, he was the +very man to undertake the conduct of the whole +affair.</p> + +<p>The advertisement ran thus:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span></p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Matrimony.</span>—A widow lady, in good circumstances +and of high respectability, being, +from causes which she will be most happy to +explain, left much alone, is desirous of again +entering the married state, provided she could +find a gentleman of honour and character who +might feel a similar wish. The advertiser is +aware that an address of this nature is unusual, +and may therefore create a prejudice against +her in the minds of some; she is, however, confident, +that upon investigation her conduct will +be shown to be perfectly justifiable. Letters, +post-paid, <span id="TN6">directed to A. Z.</span>, to be left at the +Twopenny Post-office the corner of Little Queen +Street, Holborn, will be attended to: but as it +is not the intention of the advertiser to gratify +idle curiosity, no farther particulars will be +entered into, until after an interview between +the parties.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>“This is capital!” said Lord Tom. “We +have seen hundreds of men advertising for +wives, but the lady being the applicant is something +new. However, she is evidently no fool; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>she is determined to see her man before she explains +herself. You, my dear Brag, must be the +recipient of her wishes and sorrows. We have +just concluded a reply, fixing a meeting upon +Waterloo Bridge, a locality chosen in preference +to any of the Parks, squares, or gardens, +on account of its solitude,—a quality which has +reduced it as a speculation to worse than <i lang="la">nil</i>, +which, considering it is one of the most splendid +ornaments of the metropolis, is most deeply +to be regretted.”</p> + +<p>Jack was delighted at being fixed upon to +talk over the fair advertiser; his self-acknowledged +invincibility was admitted. It was his +particular <i lang="it">forte</i>—and it was speedily arranged +that his three companions should remain at a +convenient distance until the parley should +have proceeded to a certain extent, when they +were <em>manfully</em> to avow themselves confederates +in the scheme, and eventually drive the rash +damsel “fainting from the ground.”</p> + +<p>It must be confessed that the system of mate-hunting +through the medium of the newspapers, +is one which not unnaturally subjects +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>its practitioners to the assaults of the mischievous +and merciless. Whether any of the +negociations, of which such notices are the precursors, +terminate satisfactorily,—that is to +say, in the union of the parties—it is impossible +to say; but it does seem, for people who +have eyes and ears and hands and tongues, +the strangest possible course of proceeding.</p> + +<p>Jack, who in all his antics kept his eye upon +the main chance, was by no means the less +inclined to the performance of this hoax upon +the defenceless innocence of the yet unknown +fair-one, by a notion which flashed into his mind, +that it might turn out that she really was +handsome and rich: a notion which, to be sure, +was rather romantic, inasmuch as it would appear +that a lady possessing those qualifications—or +even one, provided it were the latter—need +not have had recourse to a public proclamation +of her wish for a husband. Something, however +might come of it: it was the opening of +a new field for the exertion of his talents, and +the display would, he felt certain, place him a +step or two higher in the estimation of his +noble sporting friends.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></p> + +<p>The letter, addressed as desired, was despatched, +the postage paid, the day and hour +were fixed, and the party separated to meet +a few minutes previous to the rencontre, and +arrange their forces, as has already been described; +three forming a corps of observation, +while Brag was performing his light-infantry +evolutions in advance.</p> + +<p>It must be quite clear to the reader, that +upon such an occasion Jack took the greatest +possible pains to make himself what he called +“the thing;” every fold of his coloured neck-handkerchief +was laid with the most anxious +nicety of form and tint, every curl was crisped +into its own peculiar place, and the whole of his +costume made to look like that of “a genteel +comedy” playhouse beau, which, as he believed, +must be irresistible in a widow’s eyes.</p> + +<p>At length the wished-for day and hour arrived. +Lord Tom Towzle and his two friends +were joined by Brag at the corner of Pall Mall, +and proceeded to the scene of action, where +they took up their stations a few minutes before +two—two being the appointed time for the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span>meeting—and having separated according to +the programme, Mr. John Brag commenced his +amatory promenade on one side of the bridge, +while his expectant companions occupied the +other, but at a considerable distance from him.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasing thing to see our hero settling +himself and pulling up his shirt collar, then +drawing on his glove, then twirling a little switch-like +stick which he carried, and then using it in +whipping his own boots, shining with a lustre +which Day and Martin might have envied. He +had scarcely finished one turn when the London +clocks began striking two, which at different +periods they continued to do, for nearly five +minutes, that of St. Paul’s booming through +the air about midway between the subordinates.—Another +turn had been taken, and no +fair one was in sight:—a small girl in trousers, +with her hair platted into two long tails with +bows at their ends, and a bustle, approached—she +was evidently no widow; she passed +on; Jack tried the eloquence of his eyes +upon <em>her</em>;—then came a tall, gaunt woman, +with a poodle dog. Jack looked at <em>her</em>, but she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span>made no sign. At last there appeared a fine +portly-looking dame, dressed in a coquelicot +bonnet, topped up with white and green feathers, +a lavender-coloured pelisse, and buff-coloured +boots. The friends in the distance were convinced +that this was <em>the</em> person. She looked +behind her and before her, and first on one +side, and then on the other, and proceeded at a +steady pace. She drew a full-sized, white-faced +watch from her bosom, and gazed upon +its dial, and then tossed her well-plumed head +with an air of impatience and surprise at the +non-appearance of her summoner.</p> + +<p>John Brag, Esq. beheld the vision, and if +he had seen all the dæmons of the Hartz Forest +pemmican’d into one plump lady, he could +not have felt more horror and dismay. By +what fatal accident, what evil coincidence, it +should so have occurred, he could not imagine;—the +extensive being before him, and now fast +approaching, was neither more nor less than +his respectable mother.</p> + +<p>What the deuce could have brought her so +far from home, and so wonderfully fine in her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>dress, Jack could not imagine; the question +was, what was to be done? If he advanced, +another minute would bring him in contact, and +into conversation, with his parent; if he retreated, +he must fall back upon his friends, and she +would inevitably follow and accost <em>him</em>. The +brightness of his genius came to his aid in this +unexpected dilemma—he resolved instantly to +join her, turn round with her, and fall into the +dialogue which he saw must take place, and +make his companions believe that his companion +was the real object of their expedition, the +advertising lady.</p> + +<p>This scheme possessed many advantages, for +the very circumstance of his relationship to his +companion would afford him an opportunity of +exhibiting the ease and familiarity of his manner +while talking to the supposed advertiser, +which would convince his companions that he +was proceeding most successfully in his career; +during which period he hoped to set his beloved +mother on her way on the other side of the +water before they could come up to enact <em>their</em> +part of laughing at the victim, which it was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span>settled they were not to do, until Brag should +give a signal that the moment for explosion +had arrived.</p> + +<p>The ingenious performer, however, had reckoned +without his host. When he and his mother +met, the expression of her countenance was +anything but agreeable: she seemed, in fact, as +much mortified and annoyed by <em>his</em> appearance +as he had been by <em>hers</em>: and with all his desire +to keep good friends with her, and wheedle +her away as soon as possible, he could not disguise +the anxiety with which he watched the +approach of the fair husband-hunter, upon +whom, so long as his parent remained where +she was, he could not of course play his +tricks.</p> + +<p>“Well, John,” said the lady, “who would +have thought that we should have met here +to-day? I’m sure I don’t know how long it is +since I’ve set eyes upon you.”</p> + +<p>“I have been a good deal out of town,” said +Brag, acting (for effect with his friends) in +the most civil and obsequious manner.</p> + +<p>“What,” said Mrs. Brag, “at your little +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>place in Surrey. I suppose you are coming +from it now—eh, Johnny?”</p> + +<p>“No, not exactly,” said Jack. “May I ask +where you are going?”</p> + +<p>“Nowhere particular,” replied the lady. +“Don’t let me keep <em>you</em>. I am only out to +make a call. I can go without <em>you</em>.”</p> + +<p>“I will just see you to the gate,” said Jack, +carefully abstaining from any gesture or movement +which could in the slightest degree resemble +the appointed signal for the co-operation of +his friends.</p> + +<p>“Don’t mind <em>me</em>, John,” said his mother; “it +is so nice and airy up here, that I think I shall +take a turn or two on the bridge before I go.”</p> + +<p>“My dear mother,” said Brag, “you’ll +catch your death of cold. Let me persuade +you to get off as soon as you possibly can.”</p> + +<p>“I like air,” said Mrs. Brag; “so you go +your way. Who are those men standing out +there? Do you know them?”</p> + +<p>“Those men!” said Brag—“what, those +three men there?—no—I know nothing about +them.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p> + +<p>“Well then, good b’ye, John,” said the lady. +“Now don’t let me keep you; it is more than +a quarter after two, and I needn’t be at my +friend’s till three; so now go—there’s a dear!”</p> + +<p>This was a puzzler:—the fancy his mother +had taken to walk upon Waterloo Bridge seemed +to Jack not only the most extraordinary, but +the most inconvenient imaginable. He could +not leave her without accounting to his friends +for not having made the signal, or for the conversation +in which it was but too evident to them +he was engaged; nor could he, in fact, go near +them, without practically contradicting the declaration +he had just made to his mother, that +he knew nothing about them. He decided.</p> + +<p>“Well then, mother,” said he, “if you +really <em>do</em> like to walk up and down a little, I +don’t see why I should not walk up and +down with you.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m sure!” said Mrs. Brag, “wonders +will never cease, I think! Walk up and +down with <em>me</em>!—why you have not done such +a thing these three years. Why, we have never +been out together since the day you took me +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>down to dinner at Blackwall, and kept me shut +up in an attic at the ‘Artichoke,’ because, you +said, I wasn’t fit to be seen by the company. +No, no—go about <em>your</em> business, and leave <em>me</em> +to mine.”</p> + +<p>“I am waiting for somebody,” said Jack.</p> + +<p>“Oh! that’s it,” cried Mrs. Brag. “I +thought there must be something in the wind.”</p> + +<p>“I know you don’t like spoiling sport, mother,” +said Brag. “I’m here on a bit of fun:—I’ll +let you into the joke. I expect every moment +to see an uncommon smart body, who has +been fool enough to advertise for a husband—eh!—don’t +you see? We’ve tipped her a +twopenny, fixing this, as the place of meeting: +it’s past the time, and I dare say she won’t be +much longer. Now, perhaps, if <em>you</em> stop, she +won’t come to the scratch.”</p> + +<p>“Advertise for a husband!” exclaimed Mrs. +Brag—“why, what <em>have</em> you been at? Did +<em>you</em> answer the advertisement?”</p> + +<p>“Clean as a whistle,” said Jack, flourishing +his stick, and shaking his head with an air of +uncommon self-satisfaction, “smack smooth, +and no mistake—eh!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> + +<p>“What! appointing her here”—said the +lady.</p> + +<p>“Here at two,” said Brag—“the adorable +A. Z. at the oil-shop the corner of Little +Queen Street, Holborn.”</p> + +<p>“You did, did you?” ejaculated his mother.</p> + +<p>“I did,” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“Well then, all I say, John,” cried Mrs. +Brag, “is, that you ought to be ashamed of +yourself. If you was a lone widow woman, +how would <em>you</em> like to sit moping and mumping +all alone, after having been used to sociability +and comfort.”</p> + +<p>“I see nothing to be ashamed of,” said +Brag. “If people will make themselves such +Tom-noddies as to put such trumpery stuff +into the newspapers, they deserve all they get.”</p> + +<p>“How you ferreted it out, I don’t know,” +said Mrs. Brag.</p> + +<p>“Ferret what out?” said Jack.</p> + +<p>“—But <em>this</em> I do know,” continued the lady +“the letter was not in your hand-writing.”</p> + +<p>“How the deuce do you know <em>that</em>?” interrupted +Jack.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p> + +<p>“Why, do you think I don’t know your +little scribbling pot-hooks and hangers when +I see them?” retorted the mother.</p> + +<p>“I dare say you do,” said the son; “but +how came you to see the letter we sent to A. Z. +at the pickle-shop?”</p> + +<p>“As if you didn’t know,” said Mrs. Brag. +“Do you suppose I am so blind as not to see +through <em>your</em> antics? No, no: as I said before, +how you ferreted it out I don’t yet understand; +and when you had, I think you might +have been better set to work than to hoax a +parent.”</p> + +<p>“I’m all at sea,” said Jack. “What have +you or your affairs to do with our fun?”</p> + +<p>“Do!” screamed the angry lady, “do—why +what else should they have to do with? So +now you are ashamed of your spy tricks, and +want to sham that you did not know who A. Z. +at the pickle-shop, as you call her, is.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be hanged if I do,” said Jack.</p> + +<p>“Then hanged it is my belief you will be,” +replied the mother, “<em>you</em> know as well as <em>I</em> +do, that <em>I</em> am that individual.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p> + +<p>“You!” cried Jack—“you A. Z. at the +pickle-shop!”</p> + +<p>At this moment Brag’s miseries were, as he +thought, at their <i lang="fr">acmé</i>—but he was mistaken. +The instant he received the unexpected and +most unwelcome intelligence, that the object of +his diversion and ridicule, to enjoy which three +of his first-rate friends had been brought to the +scene of action, was really and truly his mother, +his course was clear; apology and conciliation +were the weapons with which he was to assail +her, and having soothed her anger, he would +walk her off the ground as speedily as possible; +a course which he considered quite practicable, +now that she must be convinced, however +angry, that there was no use in her remaining +on it.</p> + +<p>“My dear mother,” said Brag, “I am truly +and seriously sorry for this affair. If I had fancied +it possible—but I—really—dear me!—this +is all very uncomfortable.”</p> + +<p>“If I thought you didn’t do it on purpose,” +said Mrs. Brag, “I shouldn’t mind it half so +much.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> + +<p>“My dear mother,” said Brag, “I do most +positively assure you”—</p> + +<p>To which point of assurance his speech had +arrived, when, tired of procrastination, and +satisfied that Brag had admirably performed +his part of the farce, his three friends bounced +across the road, and joined the unhappy creature, +forming, as it were, a semicircle in his +rear.</p> + +<p>“Come, Jack,” said Lord Tom Towzle, +“you have had enough of this fun. Is he +vastly agreeable, ma’am? Isn’t he a nice little +man?”</p> + +<p>“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Brag, “you <em>do</em> +know these gentlemen! Why, you little story-teller, +you said they were no acquaintances of +yours.”</p> + +<p>“If I did”—said John—</p> + +<p>“—<em>If</em> you did!” said Mrs. Brag—“why, you +know you did:—and so these are the companions +of your trick—the witnesses of your impudence!”</p> + +<p>“Pray, ma’am,” said one of the dandies, +“do not flurry yourself—we are not going to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span>eat you!—<span id="TN7">we were only anxious</span> to have the +pleasure of seeing you, because, as we all want +wives more or less, we thought, like yourself, +we might as well take the opportunity of viewing, +before purchase.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Johnny, Johnny!” said Mrs. Brag, +holding up her pink and white-striped parasol in +a posture of threat—“you would do much +better if you would but stick to the shop, and +do your duty by <em>me</em>: if that was the case, you +would not drive your poor mother to do what +you yourself are most active to turn into ridicule. +I’ll find this out—I’ll sift it to the very +bottom: my belief is, that you have been pumping +Jim Salmon, or one of the shopboys, to +make this precious discovery, in order to amuse +your fine friends at the expense of your parent.”</p> + +<p>“Parent!” exclaimed Lord Tom Towzle—“what! +ma’am, is—?—eh!”</p> + +<p>“How!” cried one of his friends.—“What!” +said another.</p> + +<p>“Why, you see,” said Brag, “I—I”—</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell it you shorter,” said Mrs. Brag, +around whom and her auditors a crowd of four +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span>or five of the diurnal two dozen foot-passengers +were now congregated:—“he is <em>my</em> son—and +not content with letting an excellent business +go to rack and ruin while he is cutting his +capers, and leaving an anxious mother to a +solentary life and melancholy prospects—here +he is”—</p> + +<p>“Pray, ma’am,” said Lord Tom Towzle, “in +what line may you be?”</p> + +<p>“Wax and tallow chandler,” said Mrs. Brag, +“including sperm and other oils, flambeaux, +tapers, bougies, and sealing-wax of all colours +and qualities.”</p> + +<p>“She’s mad, poor thing!” said Jack—“fancies +herself my mother! Did you ever hear?—go +home, ma’am—go—and don’t expose yourself +again by writing such stuff in the newspapers.”</p> + +<p>“What! Jack,” said Lord Tom Towzle, “is +A. Z. at the pickle-shop, corner of Little Queen +Street, Holborn, your mamma?”</p> + +<p>“So she says,” said Brag.</p> + +<p>“Says!” exclaimed the indignant matron,—“it +isn’t that you are much to be proud of: +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>but here, gentlemen, here’s the card of the +shop—I never travel without half a pack in +my pocket—here, see—judge who is right +now. Oh! if his poor dear father could but +get out of his grave in Cripplegate churchyard +to see the use his darling son has put all +his indulgence to”—</p> + +<p>“He would probably go back again into it, +ma’am, as fast as he possibly could,” said Lord +Tom.</p> + +<p>“For <em>my</em> part,” said the widow, looking at +the slice of nobility which had last addressed +her, “I begin to think you are no better than +he is; however”—</p> + +<p>Here, an admonitory—“Come—move on, +move on,” from two policemen on duty, put a +check to the conversation, which promised to +become more and more animated.</p> + +<p>“Move on!” said Mrs. Brag, who at this +period was in a burning rage, the flame of +which glowed on her cheeks and sparkled in +her eyes:—“yes, Mr. Policeman, I’ll move +on, and move off too; but it would serve that +little whipper-snapper cockney son of mine right +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span>to send him to the Station House for what he +has done.”</p> + +<p>“Go home, poor soul!” said Brag, trying +what “dejected pity” might do:—“go home, +and get cool: I’ll come and see you soon.” +Then, turning to his companions, he added:—“I’ve +heard that gentle remedies are best, eh!—the +soothing system, as Dr. Dulcimer calls +it, eh! Go home.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a fool, Jack,” exclaimed Mrs. +Brag, “you’ll repent of this some day. All +these fine-weather friends who set you on to +play tricks for them to laugh at, will leave you +the minute your troubles begin, just as rats +run out of a falling house; and perhaps they +would not be so fond of you <em>now</em>, if they knew +that your town mansion was nothing but a brass +plate, and your little place in Surrey, a second +floor over a carpenter’s shop. Get you gone—get +you gone! If you have no feeling for +yourself, Jacky, I cannot help feeling for you.”</p> + +<p>Away flounced the indignant mother; and having +squeezed herself with some difficulty through +one of the anti-cheating turnstiles at the end of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span>the bridge, bounced along Wellington Street towards +the Strand, Lord Tom Towzle signalizing +himself, and delighting the spectators, by imitating, +at the top of his voice, the crowing of +a cock, triumphantly victorious in the overthrow +of an enemy—an exhibition which has +been more than once received with unbounded +applause in a theatre in Westminster, which +yet remains beyond the reach of the Licenser.</p> + +<p>“Well, now,” said one of Jack’s three friends, +“who is this old catamaran? Why does she +insist upon being your mother?—is it because +her name is the same?—or”—</p> + +<p>Here again was Jack puzzled most wonderfully. +To renounce her as a parent, and denounce +her as a cheat, was something too strong +even for <em>his</em> assurance.</p> + +<p>“—Why,” said our hero, “I believe, if truth +were to be told, she is my mother.”</p> + +<p>“Truth to be told!” said Lord Tom, “why, +Jack, although there may, in these wicked days, +be something like reason in the proverb that +says, ‘it is a wise child who knows his own +father,’—the adage cannot hold good as regards +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>the female parent;—there can be no great +doubt about <em>that</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Jack again, who generally began +his speeches with why,—why, he knew +not,—“why, you see, my mother”—And then +again nature interposed:—it was not feeling, +it was not tenderness, nor even affection, which +held him back, or checked the tongue on which +some flippant falsehood was gathering—it was +instinct,—not better in its character perhaps +(if so good) than that of a chimpanzee, but it +was enough to paralyze his efforts to shuffle +off the relationship between himself and the +maltreated A. Z. at the pickle-shop at the corner +of Little Queen Street, Holborn—“Why,” +again said Jack, “I am sorry we made so bad +a shot,—because I believe it is a good deal my +own fault—I have driven her to it, eh! Can’t +keep at work and”—</p> + +<p>Brag had now fallen into his own trap; his +impudence for once failed him, and he stood +confessed the son of the determined husband-hunting +widow of the deceased tallow chandler.</p> + +<p>“But, Jack,” said Lord Tom, “what did +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span>your amiable parent mean by the brass plate, +and the carpenter’s shop—the mansion and the +villa?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that,” said Jack, “was all passion. +When a woman’s back’s up, she’ll say anything, +no matter what. I am sorry it has happened, +because it has exposed her, and certainly +has not come off the bat, clean, smack +smooth, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“No, that you cannot say,” said Lord Tom; +“however, never mind it; the old lady will +forgive you. You must go and see her, and +make it up. Suppose we all go in a body and +apologise, and I’ll explain to her the circumstances +of the affair, and convince her that you +really were totally ignorant that <em>she</em> was the +advertiser, eh! Shall we do <em>that</em>?”</p> + +<p>This proposition produced a violent accession +to Jack’s already raging fever. The thought +of Lord Tom Towzle and the two “nobs,” as +he called them, proceeding <i lang="fr">en masse</i> through +the shop to the back-parlour beforementioned, +under the row of wooden candles fluttering in +the breeze, was perfect misery to him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span></p> + +<p>“No, no,” said Brag, “by no means! I +have always noticed that a woman cools soonest +when left alone.—My mother,” said Brag, +assuming a new tone, and which he thought to +be the wisest, “is a woman of what you call +strong feeling—mighty high—old family—and +proud as Lucifer. She’s in a passion; +and when she is out of it I’ll go to her—mollify +her, eh!—smooth her down, and make all +snug and comfortable.”</p> + +<p>“—‘And no mistake,’ Jack,” said Lord Tom. +“Well, all I hope is, your nerves won’t be +shaken for the race to-morrow. ‘Slap-bang’ is +the favourite; and riding a winning horse is +no very hard task”—</p> + +<p>“Nervous!” said Jack, who began as usual +to rally—“what is to shake my nerves?—an +angry woman? No, no: I know the female +sex too well to mind a few passing clouds; and +as for the <i lang="fr">exposé</i>, as the French call it, it’s +nothing to me. My mother, as I have just +said, is a woman of excellent family; how can I +help her having been so silly as to marry a tallow +chandler.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span></p> + +<p>This mode of putting the case set Jack’s +friends laughing with him rather than at him. +Like a cat, Jack generally contrived to fall +upon his legs, however “high” the tumble; and +they all agreed that he was perfectly right, +and that he had behaved in the most moderate +and judicious manner: and when they parted, +renewed the appointment for the morrow with +the usual cordiality.</p> + +<p>As for Johnny, far different indeed were his +feelings: the scene on the bridge was one +which never could be effaced from his memory. +The coquelicot bonnet; the striped parasol; +the white and green feathers; the buff boots; +the object of the visit; the conversation; the +disclosure; the mystery of the plate, and the +history of the villa; and, above all, the exhibition +of the shop-card, and the conviction +that he was the son of A. Z. at the pickle-shop—it +was all vastly well for his tiger friends to +laugh it off—but what would form the subject +of their conversation after dinner that very day +at Crockford’s, where the conclave would be +secured from his intrusion? What would be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span>the nickname which was ever after destined to +distinguish him in the contemporaneous history +of society?</p> + +<p>It was clear that his end, as far as that sort +of “life” was concerned, was drawing to a close. +Two practicable measures now presented themselves +to his imagination, both of which are said +to go by destiny—hanging or marriage—the +halter or the altar, and, according to Jack’s counterchanged +aspiration of the <em>h</em>, it was difficult +to discover his preference by his own pronunciation +of the word. His mind was soon made up; +and being assured that his secrets—as he considered +the shop, the door-plate, and the villa—would, +in the hands in which they had now +been authoritatively deposited, be secrets not +many hours longer, he resolved within himself +that he had no time to lose in bringing the +widow to action; and, as the reader already is +aware, that let what might have happened, he +never intended to ride “Slap-bang” over the +forbidden lands of Wrigglesworth—that evening +and the next day were to be devoted to +the grand experiment of his life.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span></p> + +<p>In putting this affair into execution, the +natural infirmity of his disposition was remarkably +exemplified. Convinced that Frank Rushton +was satisfied of the prepossession of both +Mrs. Dallington and Miss Englefield in his +favour, and equally assured of the wisdom of +Lord Tom’s advice as to the course to be pursued, +he determined in the outset to act upon +the principle of the one, and adopt the practice +recommended by the other:—that is to say, to +play off both the ladies one against the other, +but not to commit himself to either, by writing; +it being evident to the meanest capacity (except +that of Johnny’s) that neither of two sisters, +nor of two women, indeed, who were <em>not</em> sisters, +living in the same house, and in circumstances +such as those in which Mrs. Dallington and +Blanche were placed, could possibly receive +anything like a proposal, or even a probable +approach to it, without communicating the circumstance +to the other. The mingled vanity +and stupidity of Johnny, in the midst of his +gaiety and amiability, prevented this single +circumstance striking him; and, secure in his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span>own influence over both the fair creatures, and +his intimate knowledge of “females,” he resolved +upon Lord Tom’s assumed doctrine, that both +ladies being actually engaged to other men, neither +would commit herself to the other by the acknowledgment +of a passion for him: this decided +him to fire both his barrels in rapid succession, +giving the unmarried lady the preference +by a few hours.</p> + +<p>Having, however, revolved the affair in his +mind, he again changed his original intention +as to the mode of attack, and resolved to address +the widow personally—and the sister by +letter;—for, in spite of Lord Tom’s <em>friendly</em> +caution about writing, Jack did not feel himself +quite a match for the tender delicacy of +Blanche in the way of dialogue; having moreover, +with all his avowed notions of practical +advances, a most sensitive apprehension of a +scream or a fainting-fit, which he feared might +alarm the family, arouse the widow to a sense +of his libertine insincerity, and explode the +whole of his great undertaking.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, in the course of the afternoon of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span>the day upon which the unlucky affair of A. Z.—the +alpha and omega of his destruction—occurred, +he proceeded to one of his favourite haunts, +and in pursuance of the scheme which he had now +arranged, addressed a letter to Miss Englefield, +avowing, not, it must be owned, in the most +direct and explicit terms, but in a tone and +language which it was impossible for any lady +to mistake or misapprehend,—a devotion the +most perfect and entire to her mind and person; +alluding, in as good English as he could +contrive to write, to the encouragement he felt +he had received, trusting to her kindness and +consideration, if he were mistaken, to forgive +him; and hinting that Mr. Rushton himself +was not altogether unconscious of the preference +of which he felt so proud.</p> + +<p>This he despatched before he slept, which he +did at his “little place in Surrey;” and when +he woke from a sort of fitful slumber in which +he had passed the night, he began bitterly to +repent of a step which he had taken while +under the influence of a kind of desperation. +However, as it <em>was</em> done, he determined to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span>“go the whole hog,” and follow up this feint +at the unmarried lady, which might after all +be turned into a real attack in case of a failure +with the widow.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, at the earliest decent period for +calling upon anybody, Brag proceeded to make +his visit to Mrs. Dallington; but here again +his courage failed him. His mind was made +up to the deciding step of trying his fortune, +and as he went along, he rehearsed—or, as +they say of birds, recorded all the sweet notes +in which he should address her, if he found +her alone. As he proceeded, his spirits mounted, +until he had worked himself into a serviceable +state of amativeness: he reached the door,—knocked—the +noise seemed like thunder:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“He trembled at the sound himself had made”—</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>his courage began, like that of Acres in the +play, to “ooze out at his fingers’ ends;” and +the terror he experienced when the servant told +him his mistress <em>was</em> at home, can scarcely be +imagined.</p> + +<p>The crisis had arrived; and as it <em>was</em> to +come, perhaps it was better it should have occurred +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span>before any of his mother’s intemperate +disclosures on the bridge had reached what +Jack was in the habit of calling “the West +end.” He mounted the stairs with his throat +a little parched, and his hands a little cold; +but when the door of the boudoir was opened, +and he found his charming hostess alone, the +sight was fatal.</p> + +<p>“Why, my dear Mr. Brag,” said Mrs. Dallington, +holding out her hand towards him, +“where <em>have</em> you been—hiding yourself in the +country? I believe you have some attraction +at your place in Surrey, of which we here in +town are not aware.”</p> + +<p>The allusion was not pleasant. Brag—the +undaunted, unabashed lady-killer—sat himself +down in a chair opposite the sofa on which +he found the widow seated writing at a table +before it, and felt assured that, by some telegraphic +or other communication, the fair object +of his hopes and ambition had received the +intelligence of the affair on the bridge:—so +’tis that</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Conscience doth make cowards of us all.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span></p> + +<p>“No,” said Brag, endeavouring to collect +himself, “I have been staying in Hertfordshire +for the last few days.”</p> + +<p>“I assure you we have missed you very much,” +said the lady, who, fortunately or unfortunately, +as the case may be, for Brag—was, for +reasons of her own, in the best possible humour +for encouraging his civilities,—“you can’t +think how dull we have been without you. My +belief is, that your friend Lord Tom is the +cause of your abdication from town: he is so +fond of his shooting matches and his steeple +chases, and you, we hear, are his prime minister: +in short, he cannot exist without you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Brag, looking very much obliged, +and very silly, “you flatter me. I assure you +I just do these sort of things by way of a start +now and then; but—I—it isn’t my taste—it +obliges Tom—and that sort of thing; but—I—I—feel”—</p> + +<p>“What!” said the widow, “do you mean +to disown your affection for a sporting life, +who are, as Sir Charles Lydiard says, the very +life of sporting?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span></p> + +<p>“Sir Charles is very civil,” said Brag, who +began to feel conscious of an approach to his subject: +“I don’t think <em>he</em> is very fond of sport—of +any sort,” was added in a whisper scarcely +audible.</p> + +<p>“He is a strange creature, isn’t he?” said +Mrs. Dallington. “A most excellent man—kind, +and all <em>that</em>—but <em>so</em> cold in his manner—I +am sure he makes enemies by it.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Brag, looking down, and rubbing +his hat, “I don’t know what he may be +to females—he <em>is</em> certainly—rather—eh!—rather”—</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Mrs. Dallington, “don’t be afraid, +I shall not repeat a word you say about him. I +quite agree with you. Women, Mr. Brag,” and +the widow suited her looks to the word—“are +fond of spirit and vivacity. The days of sad, +sickly, sighing swains, are gone by: society is +enlightened, and diffidence seems to be considered +in these times merely a mark of stupidity. +I suppose everything is destined to travel at an +increased pace, and I, for one, admit a partiality +for fast travelling, as far as <em>that</em> goes.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p> + +<p>This was pretty strong encouragement to an +aspirant who was in a hurry, and engaged to +ride “Slap-bang” across a county the next +day—but Brag was Brag, every inch of him.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Brag, “it’s uncommon pleasant: +I don’t think, however, I shall ever be +caught giving up horses for steam.”</p> + +<p>This sudden digression from the figurative +to the matter-of-fact, evidently disappointed +the widow, who, truth to be told, had never +appeared, either alone or in society, so cordial +in her manner to our hero as upon this +special occasion, upon which, of all others, it +was most important to his views that she should +be so. The first opening she had given him +for a little self-recommendation in accordance +with her avowed taste, he had botched,—missed +his tip,—and become prosy.</p> + +<p>“I have got a good many shares in the rail-roads,” +said Jack.</p> + +<p>This settled him, and, it must be confessed, +fully justified his own preference for literary +correspondence over verbal communication, upon +tender subjects.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallington gave a look; Brag, luckily, +did not see it. A pause ensued, but, as our +volatile widow was playing a game, it did not +last long.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” said the widow, looking at Brag +with an expression of interest—“I wonder +<em>you</em> have never married, Mr. Brag.”</p> + +<p>This bit of wonderment nearly took away +his breath: his tongue seemed too big for his +mouth;—he began to twiddle his fingers, felt +his ears get red, and his nose cold.</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha!” said he, and rubbed his hat +again.</p> + +<p>“So gay, so gallant, and so devoted to the +fair,” continued Mrs. Dallington, “I should +think you had only to ask and command. I +do not at all understand why you haven’t yet +thrown your handkerchief.”</p> + +<p>Brag, who did not in the least understand +why he should perform any such operation, +merely inclined his body.</p> + +<p>“I have been married myself,” said Mrs. +Dallington, “and although I soon became a +widow, I am quite sure that where there are +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>reciprocity of affection, congeniality of taste, +and sympathy of feeling, no state of society +can be so truly satisfactory and so entirely +good,—I have no word so short or so emphatic +for it as that—as marriage.”</p> + +<p>“It must be uncommon agreeable, I should +think,” said Brag, looking “uncommon” +foolish.</p> + +<p>“Now there’s Frank Rushton,” said Mrs. +Dallington, “a most delightful companion—a +most accomplished scholar,—and, as I believe, +extremely attached to my poor dear sister—and +yet, you see, they don’t get married. +I believe that all you agreeable, gay +men of the world, try everything in your power +to turn the heads of poor girls, without any +serious intention of eventually making them +happy.”</p> + +<p>This voluntary confession of facts and opinions, +delivered in Mrs. Dallington’s most +agreeable, off-hand manner, although it corroborated +in Brag’s mind all his former belief of +the interest he had created in the family, so +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span>astounded him, that with the opportunity at +hand, for which he had so earnestly sought, he +remained a mere listener at the mercy of his +idol.</p> + +<p>“As for Blanche,” said the widow, “as I +have great faith in the philosophy which inculcates +the belief of a love of opposites, I am +sure she, tender, shy, and retiring as she is, +ought to be over head and ears in love with +Frank; but I don’t believe she cares the least +bit in the world about him. To be sure she +has a right to please herself. She has a large +fortune, and nobody to control her, and, <em>I</em> +think, would make a most admirable wife for +any man who knew how to appreciate her. +However, I know nothing about her views or +proceedings; we have no confidences; we each +go our own way. I never trouble <em>her</em> with my +advice, and, of course, <em>she</em> never presumes to +give me any.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” said Brag, “you would make +anybody in love with wedlock—I’m—sure—You +wonder that Miss Englefield does not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span>marry Mr. Rushton;—I—often—think—I do +indeed—that—you—I beg your pardon—I +mean Sir Charles—eh!—and no mistake”—</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said the widow, “I quite understand +you. Sir Charles is a good creature—but +as for love, I don’t believe he ever thinks +of such a thing. Certainly he is not of <em>our</em> +opinion as to gaiety and vivacity.”</p> + +<p>“I was thinking,” said Brag, looking as +white as a sheet, and crumpling his remarkably +nice hat in a paroxysm of something between +hope and fear, “—that—you—really ought not +to permit—eh!—this—he is such an odd man—eh!”</p> + +<p>“My dear Mr. Brag,” said Mrs. Dallington, +“there are secrets in all families.”</p> + +<p>Brag perfectly agreed in the proposition, +and directly did there flit before his eyes +coquelicot bonnets, striped parasols, buff boots, +brass plates, green and white feathers, and a +tribe of visions more horrible than Fuseli’s +fiercest efforts after a supper of half-boiled +pork.</p> + +<p>“There <em>are</em> people with whom we become +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span>habitually familiarized,” said Mrs. Dallington, +“but who never touch the heart.”</p> + +<p>“Is Mr. Rushton,” stammered Jack, “one +of those?”</p> + +<p>“Why really,” replied Mrs. Dallington,—“Blanche +not being here to answer for herself—for +although you never inquired after +her, I ought perhaps to have told you she has +been out of town for two days, and does not +return till to-morrow,—<em>I</em> was not so particularly +referring to <em>her</em> case.”</p> + +<p>This must have opened the eyes of a mole. +Brag, in a moment, became aware that Mrs. +Dallington could know nothing of his rash +note to Blanche, and felt more convinced than +ever that the widow was his own.</p> + +<p>“The case,” stammered John—“you don’t—that +is—really”—</p> + +<p>“You are a most amiable creature!” said +Mrs. Dallington. “I see how diffident you are +of your own merits—how unconscious you are +of your own power!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” faltered Brag, quite overcome—“yes—am +I—that is—may I—do I make myself +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>understood?—is—that is—don’t I—eh!—if—but”—</p> + +<p>—“Sir Charles Lydiard,” said a servant, +throwing open the door, and announcing the +worthy baronet, who entered the room with his +usual mild placidity of manner, and after shaking +hands with the lady, turned round, and +beheld—his aversion. The look he gave Mrs. +Dallington expressed all his feelings upon <em>that</em> +point: nor was it lost upon Brag himself, who +collected his hat, gloves, and switch-stick, and +having gathered them up, made his bow, and +left his adorable widow <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> with the +baronet, perfectly assured of his triumphant +success with her, and bitterly repenting having +exposed so much of his heart to her less +well-provided-for sister.</p> + +<p>Never, to be sure, was there a more perfect +illustration of the character of the swaggering +pretender to <i lang="fr">bonnes fortunes</i> than the melancholy +proceedings of our wretched little hero. The +ball was at his foot—the game was in his hands—and +yet he, the slayer of hearts, and the assassin +of reputations, cowered before the fostering +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span>kindness of his liberal hostess, and sneaked out +of the presence of the man whom he believed +to be his defeated rival, in ridiculing whom he +had first joined with his mistress to take a step +of which we shall hear more hereafter.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII"> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>There are some people upon whom advice is +thrown away, and who, holding themselves to +be wiser than their councillors, rush “<i lang="la">in medias +res</i>” where</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>——“Angels fear to tread.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Mr. Brag, who did not want for that sort of +intellectual quality called cunning, was nevertheless, +as has been already made tolerably +evident, favoured by nature with an overbalancing +share of conceit, and when he had +ascertained the tone of the widow’s feelings +towards him, and satisfied himself that his case +was reduced to something very like “ask and +have,” he resolved upon taking the step against +which his friend Lord Tom had so strenuously +advised him, and which, as a matter of assurance, +was rendered “trebly hazardous” by his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>having previously adopted it with regard to +her sister.</p> + +<p>The Irish gentleman’s definition of a bottle +of soda water we will not stop to repeat, but it +would have applied with tolerable accuracy to +the character of our hero. Although he had +extracted from Mrs. Dallington what he believed +to be quite sufficient to justify his best +hopes, he felt in the solitude of his “little +place in Surrey” a consciousness of inability +to conduct the storm personally, or carry her +heart by a <i lang="fr">coup de main</i>—unless, indeed, a letter +might be so considered—and therefore, +spite of the advice of his experienced Mentor, +he proceeded to address the fair widow in an +epistle, a repetition of which it is not necessary +to inflict upon the reader, but which contained +a distinct declaration and a formal proposal.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brag had now shot his bolt, and nothing +remained but to see its effect. It must be admitted +that even <em>he</em> was in some sort nervous +and fidgety; but that happy self-satisfaction, +which when he was not required to make an +effort never forsook him, kept his spirits on the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>“credit side of the account.” The letter, however, +was gone—past recal—and therefore the +next wisest thing to not sending it in the first +instance, was to live upon the hopes of its +success.</p> + +<p>Upon the popular “wheel within wheel” +system, the widow had acted so as to induce +the declaration which it contained, satisfied +that by “playing” her baronet upon the occasion, +she might “land” him,—but certainly not +prepared to find that Blanche was placed in a +similar position. As things turned out, the +effect it produced was striking.</p> + +<p>Blanche had just returned from her two +days’ visit to the country. The moment she +entered the house, she hastened to her sister’s +boudoir, where she found her in the very act of +reading, with evident marks of amazement and +exultation, the avowal of Mr. Brag’s affections.</p> + +<p>“My dear Blanche,” exclaimed Mrs. Dallington, +“you are arrived at the very moment +to congratulate me on a conquest. I have +received a proposal”—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span></p> + +<p>“What!” said Blanche, “from Sir Charles?”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied her sister, in a tone which +certainly conveyed the idea that she wished she +had:—“I think you will guess without much +difficulty, knowing the man.”</p> + +<p>“The Fates are propitious,” said Blanche; +“I too have been so fortunate as to merit the +decided approbation of a lover, who declares +the happiness of his life, and the value of his +existence, depend upon my answer.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Dallington:—“why, +<em>my</em> worshipper uses the very same expression. +Yes—here it is:—‘The happiness +of my life, and the value of my existence, depend +upon your answer.’”</p> + +<p>“That <em>is</em> curious,” said Blanche; “may I +ask who the tender swain is?”</p> + +<p>“Guess,” said Mrs. Dallington.</p> + +<p>“I cannot,” replied her sister.</p> + +<p>“What! not our exquisite little friend +Brag!” said Mrs. Dallington. “I was always +sure how our acquaintance would end: I wonder +it did not strike <em>you</em>.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span></p> + +<p>“Why,” said Blanche, “the reason my suspicions +did not lead that way is rather a good +one—he has made me a proposal.”</p> + +<p>“When did you receive it?” said the widow.</p> + +<p>“Yesterday,” replied Blanche, “it was forwarded +to me from town.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it is a circular,” said the widow.</p> + +<p>“No, no,” said Blanche, “mine is the original, +yours is the copy.”</p> + +<p>“What <em>can</em> the man mean?” said Mrs. Dallington. +“Does he really suppose himself so +fascinating, that, like the rattlesnake, he has +nothing to do but look at us to induce us to +drop into his mouth? Now if he had confined +his attentions to <em>me</em>”—</p> + +<p>“Ah!” interrupted Miss Englefield, “that +is exactly the case; if he had confined his attentions +to <em>me</em>, the affair would have been different: +as it is”—</p> + +<p>“No, no,” said the widow, “don’t misunderstand +me, my dear Blanche. I do assure +you I am neither envious nor jealous. You +should be welcome to all his attentions and all +his affections—only please to observe that <em>I</em> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span>intended him to take the step he has taken, +and availed myself of your absence to lead him +on to a declaration.”</p> + +<p>“For what earthly purpose?” said Blanche.</p> + +<p>“Man,” said the widow, “is an imitative +animal, and everybody knows the force of example.”</p> + +<p>“But do you want anybody for whom you +have a regard to imitate Mr. Brag?” asked +Blanche.</p> + +<p>“In the one particular of which we are now +speaking,” replied the widow, “I do. It seems +to me, Blanche, that the lives we are both leading +are full of worry and vexation: yours, because +you will not encourage your avowed lover; mine, +because the man whose claim upon my affections +I admit, will not avow himself. It strikes me +that this most marvellous display of assurance +on the part of our little friend may serve us both +incalculably, by bringing both our gentlemen to +a proper sense of their duty;—to excite poor +dear Sir Charles into a determination, and to +soothe Rushton into a reasonable state of mind.”</p> + +<p>“I confess,” said Blanche, “I do not exactly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span>understand the course of proceeding by +which this desirable end is to be attained.”</p> + +<p>“Let us both accept the little man,” said +the widow. “The natural awkwardness of +his position must produce a disclosure of his +schemes; and what appears to me infinitely +better fun, his vanity and conceit. That, +which must happen, is, however, only a secondary +object with me;—the discovery of the +affair will show our capricious lovers that there +<em>are</em> men who, instead of hesitating to propose +to one woman, are prepared to make offers to +two; and moreover, my dear Blanche, the very +notion that we are exposed to such temptations +will urge our strange friends to some decided +step. You must accept Mr. Brag.”</p> + +<p>“Me!” exclaimed Blanche: “I accept him—an +antidote to everything like affection of +any kind!”</p> + +<p>“Why, my dear,” said Mrs. Dallington, “I +am sure he is very genteel; he curls his hair, +wears rings and chains, smokes cigars, rides +races, and lives with Lord Tom Towzle. What +would you have?—accept him you must.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span></p> + +<p>“Never!” cried Blanche.</p> + +<p>“You must, my dear girl,” replied Mrs. +Dallington, “and so will I:—yes, both of us—he +is too charming to be monopolized by +one. You must write to him.”</p> + +<p>“A billet-doux?” enquired Blanche.</p> + +<p>“Exactly so,” said Mrs. Dallington. “Let +us both be desperately in love with Lord Tom’s +tiger: you will see how odiously jealous Rushton +will be in a day, and Sir Charles.—Oh! +never mind; write—write—write, and I will +dictate.”</p> + +<p>“Write what, my dear sister?” asked Miss +Englefield.</p> + +<p>“A civil acceptance of his offer,” said Mrs. +Dallington, “couched in terms becoming the +gratitude of a young lady of small pretensions.”</p> + +<p>“I am infinitely obliged to you, my dear +sister,” said Blanche, “but really”—</p> + +<p>“Really,” interrupted Mrs. Dallington, “you +must allow <em>me</em> to be the best judge of what is +best suited to my juniors; so sit you down and +write, and I will dictate.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span></p> + +<p>“But what will the world say?” asked +Blanche.</p> + +<p>“What world, my dear?” said Mrs. Dallington—“Mr. +Brag’s world—or the world at +large? What the one chooses to say will signify +nothing to us; and what we may choose +to do will signify as little to the other. Trust +in <em>me</em>; be assured that I will not mislead you, +whatever may be my intentions with respect +to your scarecrow of a lover.”</p> + +<p>“<em>My</em> lover!” cried Blanche, colouring crimson +at the imputation—“your lover too!”</p> + +<p>“Both,” said the widow. “Now sit down; +rely upon it, it is a kindness sometimes to be +cruel:—so write.”</p> + +<p>Blanche, almost unresistingly, seated herself +at the very identical table at which Jack had +found Mrs. Dallington established the day before; +and mechanically arranging the writing +materials, looked at her sister with an expression +of unconsciousness of what she was to say, +and of enquiry as to the words she was to set +down.</p> + +<p>“Are you ready to begin?” said the widow.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Blanche—“to obey your instructions +most dutifully.”</p> + +<p>“Now, then,” said Mrs. Dallington, “write:—‘I +scarcely know how to reply to your flattering +letter.’”</p> + +<p>“I am sure I shall do it all wrong,” said +Blanche writing.—</p> + +<p>“‘I have struggled for some time—’”</p> + +<p>“Some time,” repeated Blanche—“struggled +with what?”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” said Mrs. Dallington:—“‘for +some time with my feelings,—but the manner +in which Mr. Rushton, whom you have often +seen here, conducts himself towards me is’”—</p> + +<p>“What would you have me say, sister?” +said Blanche, hesitating. “<em>You</em> know, if nobody +else does, that I love him, and”—</p> + +<p>“Never mind that,” said the widow, “go +on:—‘conducts himself towards me is such, +that I can endure his treatment no longer.’”</p> + +<p>“My dear sister,” said Blanche, “you are +laughing at me:—you wish me to expose +myself.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you think so, my dear?” said +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span>Mrs. Dallington. “You have told me a hundred +times that he torments you to death.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Blanche, “but what I say to +<em>you</em>, and what I write to this man”—</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the widow, “then put—‘vexes +me,’ instead of ‘tormenting me.’”</p> + +<p>“That is better,” said Blanche, continuing +to write.</p> + +<p>“‘That any man upon earth would be preferable +in my eyes,’” said Mrs. Dallington.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Blanche, tossing up her head +with unusual animation, and throwing down +the pen, “<em>that</em> I never <em>will</em> write!”</p> + +<p>“What innocence!” said Mrs. Dallington. +“My dear sister, we are only setting a simpleton-trap, +and”—</p> + +<p>“It does not signify,” said Blanche, “I”—</p> + +<p>“No, it does <em>not</em> signify, so write,” said the +widow. “There now—go on—it will be <em>my</em> +turn next. Tell him you shall expect him to +call—this evening. I will write him an equally +tender answer, and make a similar appointment. +What can it signify what one says to +such a man under such circumstances?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span></p> + +<p>“But, my dear creature,” said Blanche, +“what an opinion he must form of us if he +thinks we are both in love with him!”</p> + +<p>“It is quite clear that he <em>does</em> think so +now,” said Mrs. Dallington; “so this will not +make it one bit the worse. Here—make room—let +me write mine: all you have to do is to +watch the results of our invitation, and be as +cold as ice to Rushton when you next see him. +Rely upon it, my dear innocent, we shall have +fun, and, if I mistake not, husbands, out of +this scheme, which, moderate as my pretensions +are, I must say I think admirable, inasmuch +as it mystifies three men at once,—and +all—all for their own eventual good.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you take a pleasure in tormenting,” +said Blanche, who was busy sealing her +note, while her sister was rapidly writing her’s +in that elegant and unintelligible hand which is +the universal medium of lady-like correspondence, +when, to their surprise and confusion, +the door of the boudoir was thrown open, and +Sir Charles Lydiard and Mr. Rushton were +announced.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span></p> + +<p>“Hide your letter!” said Blanche.</p> + +<p>“Me!” said Mrs. Dallington, loud enough +to be heard by Sir Charles; “trust to my +fidelity.”</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” whispered Rushton to Lydiard, +“they are writing—writing notes and hiding +them!”</p> + +<p>“So I perceive,” said Sir Charles, coldly.</p> + +<p>“Well, ladies,” said Rushton, advancing towards +Blanche, “we have found you busy.”</p> + +<p>Blanche bowed diffidently, and finished sealing +her note.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you, Sir Charles?” +said Mrs. Dallington; “you look out of sorts +and out of spirits.”</p> + +<p>“No, madam,” said Lydiard, “I am neither; +only I did not know whether I might +venture to break in upon your literary avocations.”</p> + +<p>“Quite right, Sir Charles,” said Mrs. Dallington. +“People who make up their minds +not to pry into the business of their neighbours, +are most likely not to be disturbed in +their serenity.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> + +<p>“Miss Englefield,” said Rushton, “appears +to be of a similar opinion. I confess I am not +of a temper to bear with such things. I hate +three-cornered notes, if they are not addressed +to myself.”</p> + +<p>“You are equally right with Sir Charles,” +said the widow. “I <em>am</em> writing a billet-doux, +but I have just finished.”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word,” said Lydiard, “it must +be a most interesting affair. I think I never +saw you more animated than you seem to be +while despatching this note: all I am afraid of +is, that I have been the cause of its abrupt +termination.”</p> + +<p>During this dialogue, Rushton endeavoured +to draw Blanche into a conversation with regard +to the note <em>she</em> was writing, but she avoided +answering his questions; and supported in +the course she had adopted by her sister’s conduct +towards Sir Charles, so completely damped +the ardent spirits of her mercurial lover, +that he crossed to the other side of the room, +and threw himself upon the sofa.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallington having sealed her note, rang +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span>the bell, and directed the servant to send it +immediately.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Sir Charles, “I have found it +out—you are merely trying me: the note, +after all, is destined for me.”</p> + +<p>“As you doubt me, Sir Charles,” said Mrs. +Dallington, “I shall leave you to discover the +truth.”</p> + +<p>“I am certain,” said the baronet, with much +more animation than he usually exhibited, “it +can be to no one else. I shall return to my +hotel to receive it.”</p> + +<p>“Do,” said the widow, “and justify me +from your suspicions.” Saying which, the lady, +with an air of being particularly piqued, left +the room by one door, while Sir Charles, convinced +that she had taken some deciding step +with regard to himself, retired by the other, +leaving the other pair of lovers <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>.</p> + +<p>The moment her sister left the room, Blanche +rose to follow her.</p> + +<p>“Stay, Blanche,” said Rushton, “one moment.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span></p> + +<p>“No, Mr. Rushton,” said Miss Englefield, +“I am too angry with you to stay.”</p> + +<p>“Surely,” said Rushton, “you cannot be +angry with my jealousy—a jealousy that springs +only from excess of affection.”</p> + +<p>“No man,” said Blanche, “can possess real +affection for any one of whose sincerity he has +a constant doubt. I have forgiven these mad +fits twenty times, always hoping and expecting +that time would show you your error; but no,—our +very last quarrel occurred ten minutes +after our last reconciliation.”</p> + +<p>“Recollect, Blanche,” said Rushton, “the +events of that day—the day before you left +town:—there you were—the sought and admired +of the party—speaking kindly and looking +kindly to everybody except me, of whom, as I +felt, you took no notice.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir,” said Blanche, “and if I were +cold, and even cross, you need not have been so +greatly surprised, if you had recollected how +you called me to account for sitting next Mr. +Brag the last time he was here, and entering +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span>into a common conversation with him about +some of his feats and enterprizes.”</p> + +<p>“By Heavens!” exclaimed Rushton, “how +I hate that fellow—his easy assurance, his self-conceit: +but the fault is all your’s and your +sister’s. That very night there he was whispering +his infernal nonsense in your ear, to your +evident amusement and satisfaction, while I, +distressed and disturbed by your conduct, +was losing my money at écarté with Lady Begbrook, +and you sat laughing at my folly and +agitation.”</p> + +<p>“I <em>did</em> laugh,” said Blanche, “but I did +not laugh alone.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, that’s true,” said Rushton. “I +dare say there are minds and tempers that can +bear these irritations—I confess mine cannot. +Possibly I expect too much; probably +I am romantic; but, I <em>do</em> say, and <em>will</em> say, +that however charming I may wish my wife to +be, I do not exactly desire that she should be +anxious to make herself universally agreeable, +nor equally delightful, to everybody.”</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Rushton,” said Blanche, “these +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span>fancies of yours are unjustifiable and unbearable. +I confess that it would cost me serious +pain to terminate our acquaintance, in which +I have, when you are rational, great happiness; +but such conduct surely deserves to lose my +esteem. I can neither smile nor sigh, walk nor +sit down, talk nor be silent, go out nor come in, +but you attribute some motive to my actions. +They bring me a letter—of course it is from +a rival; I dance with somebody—you are +either angry or in despair. I am civil to Mr. +Brag, my sister’s visiter, and the next moment +I see you wholly unconscious of what you are +doing, crushing my fan to atoms in revenge. +Oh! Mr. Rushton, Mr. Rushton, such conduct +in a lover is but the anticipation of tyranny in +a husband.”</p> + +<p>“Tyranny, Blanche!” said Rushton, suddenly +softened into subjection; “what an +idea!”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid,” said Blanche, “that our +hearts are not formed to be united: we had +better agree upon one point—to part.”</p> + +<p>“There it is!” exclaimed Rushton; “the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span>truth is out. You have now declared yourself; +you hate me—you cast me off. I knew +there was some new attachment formed. Yes, +yes—we <em>will</em> part, Miss Englefield. There is +a woman in the world, thank Heaven! who has +a better opinion of me than you have: from +<em>her</em> gentle heart my wounded spirit may find +relief.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Blanche, “I am quite aware of +that lady’s name. Go, sir—leave me: let this +be our last interview.”</p> + +<p>Blanche spoke these words with so much +firmness, that she began to be afraid Rushton +would take her at her word; nor did Rushton’s +answer much relieve her apprehensions.</p> + +<p>“So be it!” said he. “I will conquer this +feeling—I <em>will</em> love where my love can be +returned. But, madam, I insist upon one thing—tell +me, who is the man who has supplanted +me in your affections.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Blanche smiling—“should I do +that?”</p> + +<p>“Why?” exclaimed Rushton—“because he +shall at least set his life upon the hazard. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span>Name him to me, I desire: tell me where he is +to be found, and if——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Rushton,” said Blanche, “I wish you +a good morning. Whenever you are reasonable, +and can conduct yourself temperately, I +will explain my conduct to you. In your present +state of excitement, I must leave you.”</p> + +<p>Saying which, the fair creature quitted the +room, leaving the infuriated victim of love and +jealousy in an agony of despair.</p> + +<p>The moment she was gone, he stared wildly +round. In the crowd of conflicting passions +which now assailed him, anger was in the ascendant; +and, snatching his hat from the table, +he rushed down stairs and quitted the house, +swearing, almost audibly, that he never would +enter it again.</p> + +<p>It was clear that the project of the ladies +had been so far successful as to set the whole +mass of affections and feelings of the two gentlemen +into a state of fermentation; because, +while this scene was acting at the widow’s, Sir +Charles Lydiard had been to his hotel, where +he found no note from the lady, and whence, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span>after waiting a much longer time than would have +been occupied in its transmission by her servant, +he proceeded to take his ride, with a distracted +brain, having come to a determination that +the next day should conclude his acquaintance +with the avowed and self-convicted coquette, +who had now proved what he had long suspected, +that she was merely playing a game with him +for her own diversion. In this critical juncture +we must for the present leave them, in +order to introduce the reader to some new arrivals, +as well as to give him some information +of the convalescent mother, her dutiful daughter, +and the philanthropic physician.</p> + +<p>The amiable person last named continued his +attentions to the widow Brown and her daughter: +his visits became diurnally regular; and +the satisfaction he derived from the recovering +health of the one, and the improving spirits of +the other, assumed a character which became +evident to both. The anxiety he expressed for +their comfort, the assiduous attention with +which he contrived little surprises in the way +of excursions in the neighbourhood of their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span>present residence, which he represented as conducive +to the re-establishment of his patient, +were marks of a feeling not to be concealed or +disguised; nor, to say truth, did Mead appear +at all desirous of practising any delusion upon +either of his new friends. It was perfectly +clear that he had formed an attachment, which +from its nature and principle promised to be +permanent.</p> + +<p>Mead had watched the conduct of Anne during +the illness of her mother, had attentively +regarded the workings of her mind, and had +satisfied himself that she possessed every attribute +desirable in a wife. Their acquaintance +had commenced, and his acquaintance with her +mother had been renewed, under circumstances +which gave a deep interest in his mind to her fate +and fortunes. Mead was one of those modest, +unassuming men, who once in an age attain to +eminence without having forced their way by impudent +assurance, or having been pushed forward +by favouritism or connexion. Success had +not spoiled him; and while rising to the first +rank in his profession, he was the same gentle, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span>unassuming, affectionate being that he was, +while toiling up the “steep ascent to fame.”</p> + +<p>It was not that Dr. Mead entertained the unfavourable +opinions of the higher classes, which +it is the continual effort of the lower orders to +inculcate; but he felt the absolute necessity of +something like parity of rank between the contracting +parties to secure happiness in marriage. +The daughter of a merchant, even though unfortunate, +was neither so much inferior nor superior +to the son of a country clergyman as to +make the inequality of station seriously objectionable; +and in Anne, Dr. Mead persuaded himself +he perceived qualities and feelings calculated +to sweeten the draught of life, and which would +worthily adorn the partner of his future days. +In his conduct in this affair there was nothing of +romance or violence of passion. Indeed his love +was what a romantic girl would consider extremely +unsatisfactory—it was rational esteem founded +upon conviction; and their intercourse was +so unmixed with any of those flights in which +such persons as Miss Englefield and Mr. Rushton +were perpetually engaged, that, when the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span>doctor made his declaration, it seemed as if it +were the inevitable consequence of their constant +association; and Anne’s acceptance of his +offer, under the sanction of her delighted mother, +was as calm and collected as if it were not the +great deciding event of her life, and one which +could only be looked upon as the happiest that +had ever yet occurred in it.</p> + +<p>It may be that this calmness, and her apparent +unconsciousness of the wonderful importance +of the match in a worldly point of view, +might have arisen in some degree from the +recollection which never fades from woman’s +mind, of her first love. Unworthy as he had +proved himself, and changed so much from his +former self, he still perhaps retained some hold +on the heart he had betrayed, and would with +callous indifference have broken:—these recollections +might have had their share in producing +the effects which, although Mead appeared +perfectly satisfied with the gentleness of Anne’s +conduct, were by no means agreeable to her +mother, whose gratitude to Providence for what +had occurred was unbounded.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span></p> + +<p>There was another point which was necessarily +to be brought under discussion, to which +Anne felt a diffidence and difficulty in alluding—the +position of her brother George in society, +and his close connexion with the doctor’s heartless +rival. These matters, interwoven as they +were with the probable renewal of her acquaintance +with Brag when his sister should +return to England, and the consciousness that +she had committed herself by an acknowledgment +of her attachment to him, preyed upon +her spirits, and the brightness of her present +prospects was marred by clouds, which, like +the few existing professors of Nauscopy, she +could behold in the far distance before they +were visible to ordinary eyes. To the suspense +in which the heart and mind are constantly +kept by a protracted anticipation of coming +evils, which, however remote, are sure to come, +poor Anne, it must be owned, was a victim, +and her efforts to rally from it were altogether +unavailing.</p> + +<p>We have all felt that the most serious ills, +or the most painful discussions, which have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span>occurred to us, or in which we have been engaged, +have, when they actually arrived, turned +out not half so serious or so painful as we have +expected; and upon this principle Anne devoutly +prayed that the <i lang="fr">denouement</i>, which she +regarded with so much anxiety and dread, +should arrive speedily. Her mother, to whom +she imparted so much of her uneasiness as related +to the announcement to her future husband +of her brother’s rank in the army, assured +her that nothing was to be apprehended on that +score; that a man who had selected as a wife, +the daughter of a distressed and needy woman, +would not shrink from the fulfilment of his +pledge to her, because her brother had been +compelled to enter an honourable service even +in its lowest grade.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brown was a woman of good sense, but +whatever Mead’s character and disposition might +be, there is, in point of fact, as far as worldly +matters go, a wide difference in the feelings of +a man towards the female and male connexions +of a family: a pretty milliner, or a smart actress, +is a most agreeable <i lang="la">pro tempore</i> companion; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span>and there is not a man who would object to +take either, to any of the <i lang="fr">guinguettes</i> round +town, in the bright blaze of sunshine to participate +in the enjoyments of a Richmond stroll, +or a Greenwich fish-dinner; but it would be +rather a difficult matter to induce the same +person to drive Jack Twigg, the brother of the +one—or row Bill Bott, the father of the other—to +either of those cockney Elysiums. The +doctor was everything that could be amiable +and generous, but the fact that the real nature +of George’s service had never been imparted to +him, but, on the contrary, the discussion had +been carefully avoided, might of itself add to +the objections which he might feel to having, +by way of brother-in-law, a hard-fisted sergeant +of a marching regiment.</p> + +<p>How he eventually was made acquainted +with the facts, and what was the result of his +knowledge of them as affecting his subsequent +proceedings, the reader is soon destined to +know: but as they are rather prominent features +of our little history, it is right they should +have a chapter to themselves.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII"> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>A few days had only elapsed since the final +arrangement of Anne’s marriage, when the anxiety +and worry by which she was annoyed in +not having explicitly told her future husband +her brother’s history were terminated in a manner +certainly neither expected nor anticipated +by her.</p> + +<p>It was evening when the doctor made his +appearance at the Tusculum, evidently excited—that +is to say, rather more animated than +usual—full of something which he was anxious +to impart, and still more desirous of imparting +without flurrying his companions:—to use a +homely phrase, he had a good deal to say, but +did not know exactly how to begin.</p> + +<p>The difficulty he felt, arose from two sources:—the +first cause of his embarrassment was, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span>consciousness that what he had to communicate +could not fail, with all his caution, to +awaken a combination of feelings in the minds +of his hearers, the physical effect of which upon +the constitution of the elder one he anticipated +with some apprehension; and the other originated +in the feeling that he was about to avow +himself fully acquainted with every particular +concerning a member of the family to which +he was about to ally himself, whose name had +scarcely ever been mentioned, and whose history +had never been touched on.</p> + +<p>“I have news for you, ladies,” said Mead, +after having talked upon some indifferent subjects, +“which will surprise you; but I shall +not tell you one word until you have promised +me to behave calmly and temperately when I +have told my story.”</p> + +<p>“News for <em>us</em>!” said Mrs. Brown.</p> + +<p>“News from afar,” said the doctor.</p> + +<p>The blood rushed into Anne’s cheeks. She +was assured whence, and whence only, news from +afar could come to <em>them</em>—Mead had heard of +her brother—of the brother of whose position in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span>society she had avoided the mention—he knew +it all—and not from her! She felt humiliated +and abashed, and almost shuddered at the reflection +that from mistaken pride,—unaccountable +in a character like hers,—she had left the +<span id="TN11">developement</span> of the whole family history to +chance, by which, Mead had become possessed +of every particular, and was of course convinced +that Anne, with all her good qualities, was not +entirely ingenuous. As it happened, the circumstances +of the case were such as not to give +that colouring to her conduct; but, on the +contrary, to lead the doctor to admire the diffidence +and modesty of both mother and daughter +in not having spoken much more of such +a son and brother.</p> + +<p>“Your son”—said Mead.</p> + +<p>“I knew it must be poor George!” exclaimed +Anne.</p> + +<p>“Your son is expected home almost immediately,” +said the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” said Mrs. Brown: “he is +alive then and safe. Three years have passed +since the date of his last letter.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span></p> + +<p>“Dear, dear George!” said Anne—her joy +still clouded by her self-condemnation.</p> + +<p>“When, my dear doctor,” said Mrs. Brown, +“may we expect him?—and how have you +heard this news?”</p> + +<p>“Promise me, both of you,” said Mead, “to +hear what I have to say calmly, and I will tell +you all. You have no reason for agitation; +the news I bring is good—excellent! Now, +recollect—no agitation——he is in England!”</p> + +<p>A flood of tears from the two listeners followed +this announcement. I am not sure that +the eyes of the narrator were quite dry.</p> + +<p>“Heaven be praised!” sobbed Mrs. Brown; +“I shall see my dear, dear boy once more!”</p> + +<p>Anne remained mute, and motionless, and +weeping.</p> + +<p>“Nay, ladies,” continued Mead, “I have +seen him—have conversed with him,—and +only succeeded by pointing out the absolute +necessity of forbearance, in hindering his coming +with me:—to-morrow you will clasp him to +your hearts.”</p> + +<p>Had not the one reproach rankled in Anne’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span>mind, her happiness would have been as perfect +as her mother’s: as it was, she felt she +would give the world to enquire more about +him—about his wife—his family—his circumstances; +but she was tongue-tied.</p> + +<p>“Is he well?” said his mother—“and is his +wife with him?”</p> + +<p>“She is,” said Mead—“I have seen <em>her</em> +too.”</p> + +<p>Another pang thrilled through Anne’s heart:—that +wife was the sister of the man to whom +she had herself been betrothed! The mother +and daughter exchanged a look;—it was full of +meaning, but incomprehensible to Mead.</p> + +<p>“I suppose she must be much altered,” said +Mrs. Brown; “of that, however, <em>you</em> can be +no judge, not having known her before she +went abroad.”</p> + +<p>“She is a very lovely creature,” said Mead; +and observing a sudden change in the expression +of Anne’s countenance, he added—“not +that I mean to make anybody jealous.”</p> + +<p>Anne coloured: she felt that they were travelling +over mined ground:—that the most +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span>natural thing in the world for George to have +done when he found out the doctor, was to +make some allusion to the brother of his wife +with reference to his sister; and she began to +worry herself into the belief that the whole +history of the Brag affair had been detailed to +her affianced lover, and that he was merely +serpentining his way to the part of the details +at which he might terminate his connexion +with them altogether.</p> + +<p>“I never saw a sweeter expression of countenance!” +continued Mead. “Her manners +are perfect: in fact, nothing but a constant +intercourse with the best society can give that +sort of unconscious ease and gracefulness which +seem inherent, and whose greatest charm is +the total absence of effort or affectation.”</p> + +<p>Anne heard, and silently repeated to herself +the words, “constant intercourse with the best +society,” and her thoughts flew like lightning +to the back parlour behind the shop, the dangling +candles in front, the respectable Brag defunct, +and his widow still extant; and the +result of these hasty reminiscences was a confirmation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span>of her belief that Mead was proceeding +in an ironical strain, utterly at variance as +it was with the general simplicity and amiability +of his character, in order eventually to +explode the whole affair, indignant at the treatment +he had experienced, and disgusted with +the connexion he had so nearly made.</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Mrs. Brown—and Anne would +have given worlds that she had said nothing,—“she +was always a smart, clever girl, and, I +suppose, time has improved her into what she +is.”</p> + +<p>“Her natural genius,” said Mead, “which, +from some drawings I saw of hers, views of +different parts of India, is evidently first-rate, +has been—at least so your son told me—wonderfully +improved by a residence in Italy, where +art is so generally cultivated and understood; +and her father, who, he says, was devoted to her, +indulged her in a wish to reside upon the Continent +for three years before his appointment.”</p> + +<p>The mother and daughter again exchanged +looks. It became a doubt in both their minds +whether Dr. Mead was suddenly seized with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span>madness, or whether their dear George had +caught the infection from the Brag family, +and had been imposing on him in the most outrageous +manner.</p> + +<p>“I never heard of my daughter-in-law’s having +been abroad,” said Mrs. Brown.</p> + +<p>“She never could have been,” said Anne.</p> + +<p>“All I know is this,” said Mead:—“a gentleman +called upon me about one o’clock to-day. +He sent in his card, and, upon seeing +his name, it struck me that it must be your +George, whom I had heard you occasionally +mention. I had remarked that you did not +speak much of him, and, as there are secrets in +all families, I apprehended, although you never +hinted it, that there might exist some disagreement +amongst you with which I could have no +concern whatever; still the similarity of name +excited the opinion that it might be <em>him</em>. I +immediately received him in preference to my +waiting patients. He told me that as soon as +he and his wife arrived in town, he proceeded +to Walworth, where the people of the house +directed him to me, as knowing all about you. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span>Our conversation grew more and more interesting; +and having, evidently to his surprise, and, +I flatter myself, not a disagreeable one, told +him the nature of my engagement to dear +Anne, he insisted on accompanying me hither +to clasp you in his arms. I positively refused +that, and, by way of an intermediate bargain, +he begged me the moment I had despatched +my professional business to call upon him and +his wife at Mivart’s Hotel, where they have +taken rooms. I did so, was introduced, and, +as I have told you, am quite delighted with +both of them.”</p> + +<p>“Mivart’s Hotel!—taken rooms!”—another +look was exchanged.</p> + +<p>“Did he tell you,” said Mrs. Brown, “whether +he had any family?”</p> + +<p>“I think he said one boy,” replied Mead: +“however, he will be here in the morning. I +am not sure whether your daughter-in-law +will come with him. She is in rather delicate +health; and the journey from Falmouth, where +they landed, coming immediately on a fortnight’s +bad weather in the chops of the Channel, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span>after a long voyage, is something formidable +to a person who, like her, has been used to +all the luxuries of life.”</p> + +<p>Another look,—and an extra one from Anne, +who looked at Mead to see whether there were +any visible alteration in his countenance; for +all he said was perfectly incomprehensible to +her—if <em>he</em> were sane and rational.</p> + +<p>“Did she,” said Anne, particularly anxious +to discover the extent of her communication as +to her brother’s engagement, as it might be +called, with herself—“did she say anything +about her brother?”</p> + +<p>“Brother!” said Mead; “no, my dear +Anne; George, your brother, and my future +brother-in-law, I hope,” (Anne blushed again,) +“told me she was an only child.”</p> + +<p>“Did he?” said Mrs. Brown.</p> + +<p>“An only child!” said Anne—and they were +both more mystified than ever. Anne, however, +who was more feelingly alive to the actual +position of her brother, ventured a little +farther: “Has George,” said she, “obtained +any promotion since we heard from him?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span></p> + +<p>“That,” said Mead, “is a question I cannot +very satisfactorily answer. His card was a +written one, and the name ‘Mr. Brown.’ As I +before told you, my dear Anne, the name itself +was enough for me.”</p> + +<p>This little speech tended very considerably +to calm poor Anne’s doubts and fears. Whatever +had occurred, it was clear that neither +George nor Kate had touched upon the subject +of her former engagement, and she began to +take courage and feel more at ease than she +had been during the earlier part of the conversation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brown’s delight at the prospect of again +seeing her son was not a little qualified by the +mystification which Mead’s account of him and +his wife involved, and she longed for bed-time, in +order to talk over the circumstances with her +daughter. Her confidence in George’s veracity +rendered her suspicious of the doctor’s accuracy; +and out of both she established an idea that +the Mr. Brown of whom they had been talking +must be neither more nor less than some dashing +swindler, who proposed to cheat the doctor, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span>or somebody else, by pretending a relationship +to the family with which he was about to connect +himself.</p> + +<p>Of course, so long as the conversation lasted, +George and his wife were the leading subjects +of it; not that the doubts and surmises of the +ladies were at all calmed or diminished by hearing +Mead detail the particulars of a visit paid to +Mr. Brown, during the time he was at the hotel, +by one of the most fashionable coachmakers in +town, to receive Mrs. Brown’s orders with regard +to a carriage which was to be put in hand +immediately, and finished as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>At last the trio separated for the night, the +doctor well pleased to have found in his brother-in-law +a gentleman so agreeable and highly respectable, +but wondering more than ever that +he should have suffered his mother and sister +to exist in the manner they were living at Walworth, +and where, had it not been for the accidental +circumstance of Anne’s application to him, +they would in all probability have been living +still; and coupling these matters with the looks +which he could not at length fail to see Mrs. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span>Brown and her daughter interchange, he unsettled +his mind into a belief that there must be +some mystery in the affair, of which he should +like to be master.</p> + +<p>“My dear Anne,” said Mrs. Brown, as she +threw herself into the armed chair in her bedchamber, +“what on earth can all this mean? +Delighted as I am at the prospect of so soon +seeing my boy, I am astounded and astonished +at what Mead tells us. What can have happened +to George, to induce him to talk and +act as he represents him to have done this +morning?”</p> + +<p>“I,” said Miss Brown, “cannot comprehend +it. But I am even more surprised at +what he has <em>not</em> said to Robert, than at what +he <em>has</em>. He may have made money; he may +be able to live at an expensive hotel; and he +may be able to let Kate have a carriage: but +one would have thought one of his first enquiries +would have been after his brother-in-law. +Now, of Jack, it is clear he never spoke; +for if he had, and before Robert had told him +all, the chances are”—(here her voice faltered +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span>a little)—“<em>my</em> name would have been mentioned +too.”</p> + +<p>“My dear child,” said Mrs. Brown, “how +should George afford any of the luxuries of +which Mead speaks?—besides, knowing, as I +do, the tenderness of his affection, and the generosity +of his heart, do you think, if he had +acquired anything like the property which this +person seems to possess, that we should have +been forgotten? No, no!—rely upon it, there +is some great mistake in the business somewhere. +George would never have left his mother and +sister to work for their bread, if he had had +the means of putting them at their ease.”</p> + +<p>“Besides,” said Anne, “when the whole of +the conversation of <em>this</em> Mr. Brown with Robert +is put together, it does not appear to contain +one word in allusion to our family concerns. +It is true, Mr. Brown went to Walworth, +and was referred to Robert by Mrs. Hutchins; +but, except a simple enquiry after our health, +he seems to have made no allusion whatever to +anything that happened either before his departure +or during his absence. My belief is, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span>like yours, that it is somebody who for some +purpose has thought fit to personate George, +although, to be sure, it would be difficult to +conjecture for what.”</p> + +<p>“I would rather it were anything,” said +Mrs. Brown, “than that my once honourable, +high-minded boy should have endeavoured to +impose upon Mead with such extraordinary +falsehoods as those which it appears he must +have told, if it be him.”</p> + +<p>“Besides,” said Anne, who grew energetic +and eloquent as she proceeded, “Kate never +<em>could</em> draw; the things she took home from +school were all done by the drawing-master: +and as for the Continent, she never was even as +far as Calais.”</p> + +<p>“It seems to me, Anne,” said the matron, +“to be one tissue of falsehood and pretension +from beginning to end.”</p> + +<p>In this sort of condemnatory strain did Mrs. +Brown and her daughter converse, till, twelve +o’clock striking, they considered it proper to part +for the night, in order to indulge themselves with +a separate reconsideration of the whole affair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span></p> + +<p>The morning came—breakfast was eaten:—the +doctor departed as usual for town, and the +ladies began to count the minutes until George, +or the person who had assumed his name, +should make his appearance. At length the +happy moment came; the old lady clasped her +son to her heart, and the young one clung +round the neck of her brother. George <span class="allsmcap">IT WAS</span>—that +was clear; and although his features +had become somewhat sharpened by time, and +his complexion was mellowed into a durable +brown by the effects of the climate, he was not +so much altered as might have been expected.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear mother,” said George, as +soon as he could collect himself sufficiently to +speak, “what gratitude do we not owe to +Providence! As far as Anne is concerned, I +am delighted with her choice: I wanted nothing +but her comfortable establishment in life +to make me perfectly happy.”</p> + +<p>“And how is your wife, George?” said his +mother; “our doctor says she is in delicate +health.”</p> + +<p>“She is, I am sorry to say, a sad invalid,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span>said George. “I hope, however, her native +climate, unfavourable as it is to foreigners, may +restore her. She was very anxious to come +with me to-day, but she really is not strong +enough to bear even so short an excursion.”</p> + +<p>“We have seen scarcely anything of Brag +since you went,” said Mrs. Brown, anxious as +much as possible to soften down his infamous +conduct, out of respect to the feelings of his +blameless sister.</p> + +<p>“I rejoice to hear it,” said George. “I +trust I never may have the misfortune of seeing +him again.”</p> + +<p>“But I suppose,” said Anne, who was always +for peace-making, “you <em>will</em> see him for +the sake of my sister-in-law?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t imagine,” said Mr. Brown, “that +your sister-in-law is very likely to see much of +<em>him</em>. In fact,” continued he, “I think, when she +gets strong enough, we shall in all probability +go to the Continent, unless perhaps I should stop +a month or two in England for a little shooting.”</p> + +<p>Here the ladies exchanged looks of a similar +character to those of the night before.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span></p> + +<p>“To be sure,” continued he, “whatever +miseries and unhappinesses I may have undergone +since we parted, my career has been one +of the most extraordinary, and most prosperous, +that man ever ran. How I have deserved +such blessings, I know not.”</p> + +<p>“What rank have you now in the army, +George?” said his mother.</p> + +<p>“Army!” said her son; “you know I have +left the army.”</p> + +<p>“Left it!” exclaimed the old lady, more +confirmed than ever in the suspicion that something +was wrong somewhere and somehow:—“why +then, how do you live?”</p> + +<p>“How!—as a man of fortune should live,” +said George,—“upon my property.”</p> + +<p>“My dear George,” said Anne, “what <em>are</em> +you talking of?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing but what you know of,” replied he.</p> + +<p>“We know of nothing, my dear boy,” said +Mrs. Brown, “but of your having been made +clerk to Sir Cadwallader Adamthwaite’s secretary.”</p> + +<p>“Why, my dear mother,” said George, “I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span>never made a remittance to you without writing +fully upon all my affairs.”</p> + +<p>“Remittance!” said Mrs. Brown.</p> + +<p>“Letters!” said Anne—“my dear brother, +we have not received a line from you for upwards +of three years; and, during all our distresses, +your silence caused perhaps the keenest +pang of all.”</p> + +<p>“Distresses!” exclaimed George—“why this—what—three +years!—there have been roguery +and robbery here! From the moment my fortunes +changed, I regularly remitted you as much +as my means would afford; and although wondering +never to have heard from you through +the agent whom I directed to forward my letters +to you, and to receive any you chose to +trust to his care, I felt assured by his answers +that your silence was a matter of choice; and, +ascertaining through him that you were both +well, contented myself with fulfilling my duty +and gratifying my inclinations, without waiting +for reply or acknowledgment. The truth will +be easily discovered. This very agent, I find +on my arrival here, has failed, and is recently +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span>dead; I have, of course, had no time to investigate +his affairs, but I very much fear I shall +be an eventual loser of four or five thousand +pounds by him.”</p> + +<p>Here the ladies looked at each other again. +Anne had read in some book something about +shaking the pagoda tree in India, but it seemed +as if her brother must have picked it clean.</p> + +<p>“Three years!” said George—“why then +you know nothing of the leading events of my +life—of the entire change in my circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“I see you are in mourning, George,” said +Anne, who did not know how to ask for +whom?</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said George, “I am sorry to say I +am—for my father-in-law; a more generous-hearted, +noble-minded man, never lived.”</p> + +<p>“In mourning for poor Mr. Brag, now!” +said his mother.</p> + +<p>“Brag!” said George—“I sicken at the +very name.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, George,” said Anne, “consider Kate!”</p> + +<p>“Kate!” exclaimed Brown, turning deadly +pale—“Kate!—Oh! Anne, it must be more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span>than three years since you got any of my letters.—Lost, +wretched woman!”</p> + +<p>“Lost!” said Anne—“why, is not she at +the hotel?”</p> + +<p>“In her grave!” said George, “a grave which +closed upon a life of wantonness and disgrace.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are married again?” said Anne.</p> + +<p>In answer to this question, it seems better to +adopt the narrative style, inasmuch as many +circumstances had occurred during the period +of George’s involuntary cessation of correspondence +with his mother, which it would be difficult +for him personally to describe or explain.</p> + +<p>The reader has traced the career of Mr. +George Brown up to the point of his becoming +clerk to the military secretary of Sir Cadwallader +Adamthwaite. His readiness, activity, +and assiduity, were so remarkable, that +the general, who was one of the kindest-hearted +men upon the face of the earth, took the trouble +to ascertain the particulars of his history; +and finding him to be in every essential point a +gentleman, resolved on procuring him a commission +in the army, which he did; and when it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span>was obtained, and George appointed, the clerk +was dignified into assistant military secretary, +and the assistant military secretary became one +of the general’s family.</p> + +<p>It was during a year or fourteen months of +probation before the arrival of his commission, +that Mrs. George Brown (<i lang="fr">née</i> Brag) began to +evince very strong symptoms of a propensity, +which even the thirst produced by a hot climate +cannot justify in one of the “fair sex,” as +her brother would call them; and upon more +occasions than one, George, on his return from +head-quarters, found her in a state which, as +authors say who are not able to depict what +they wish, “may be better imagined than described.” +It rarely happens that when this +vice exists in woman, it is the only one to which +she sooner or later addicts herself. Grown reckless +by habitual intemperance, her temper became +violent; and impatient of rebuke, she taxed her +husband with cruelty and inhumanity for merely +remonstrating upon conduct so disgraceful +to herself, and which must be so injurious to +him. The most depraved women, however, find +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span>admirers, and Mrs. Brown, degraded as she was, +found hers. The justification she attempted to +plead for the irregularity of her life was, the +delusion which had been practised upon her +by George as to the place she was to occupy in +the world; that her husband’s rank, of course, +excluded her from good society, such as, she +said, “she had always been used to:” and, in +short, having awakened from a dream of girlish +love, she bitterly repented of the step she had +taken, and became careless of everything but +the gratification of her worst propensities.</p> + +<p>This career did not last long. It would be +neither pleasant nor profitable to enter into the +particulars of her unfortunate case; a few +months’ intemperance brought her life to its +close, and left George a widower, commiserated +by his comrades rather for the sufferings he +had undergone, than for the loss he had sustained. +All these circumstances he had detailed +in his missing letters to his mother, in one +of which he had also communicated the intelligence +of his wife’s death to her surviving parent; +but, with great goodness of heart and tenderness +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span>of feeling, avoiding all mention of the +unhappy circumstances in which she died.</p> + +<p>If George and Kate had given themselves time +to consider the step which they unfortunately +took, and had not been blinded by youthful love, +they could have anticipated nothing but evil +from such a marriage. Kate was evidently +labouring under the belief that George was an +officer; and the question whether his rank would +enable her to live with people such as she had +been accustomed to visit and receive, never entered +her mind. She first began to feel her difficulties +when she embarked on board the ship +which was to take them to India; but even +<em>there</em> the superiority of her manners induced +a special attention to her, and infinitely better +accommodation was contrived for her than +she had any <em>right</em> to: in short, from the moment +they were fairly launched in the world, +and she saw the path she had chosen, she became +fretful and irritable, her pride wounded +by finding herself unable to speak to, or associate +with the wives of the officers with whom +she was domesticated, and her vanity hurt by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span>being permitted to stand in the verandah of +the mess-room, <em>to look in and see</em> the company +dancing when the officers gave a ball.</p> + +<p>That it <em>was</em> humiliating and provoking nobody +can deny, but she ought to have calculated +upon such evils before she married; that +is, if she knew enough of “the service” to enable +her to appreciate the relative value of its different +ranks: however, it is not my province to +reason upon the wisdom or propriety of her +early proceedings. Her ruin and fall may be +fairly traced to her first great act of filial disobedience; +and her fate adds another to the +numerous instances already upon record, of the +ill-success of runaway matches.</p> + +<p>The day on which Ensign Brown made his +first appearance in Sir Cadwallader Adamthwaite’s +drawing-room, was a most important +era of his life; and when he found himself +warmly received by the general, and presented +<i lang="la">pro formâ</i> to his daughter, who, of course, knew +him perfectly well by sight, he could not restrain +a feeling of regret that his unfortunate +wife had not so conducted herself through what +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span>he admitted to have been a trial, that she +might have overcome all the hardships she had +previously endured, and have enjoyed the satisfaction +of finding herself placed by her husband’s +promotion, in society from which her +girlish thoughtlessness had excluded her.</p> + +<p>Sir Cadwallader’s kind act of justice to the +merits of Ensign Brown gave general satisfaction, +and met with universal approbation; +and he was welcomed to the mess of his regiment +with the most unequivocal marks of friendship +and esteem. His official avocations prevented +his doing regimental duty, and his evenings +were occupied in a participation in the pleasures +of Sir Cadwallader’s hospitable mansion.</p> + +<p>It might displease the reader if I were to +doubt that he anticipates the result of this +introduction of the ensign into the house of +the general. He most probably guesses rightly; +but as there <em>are</em> circumstances which render +the case somewhat dissimilar from most others, +he must be told the particulars.</p> + +<p>Ellen Adamthwaite, Sir Cadwallader’s daughter, +was the beloved of his heart. Her mother +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span>had died young—a mother from whom Sir +Cadwallader had received, besides the most +endearing proofs of constancy and affection, the +vast fortune which he possessed, and which enabled +him to support <i lang="fr">en prince</i> the highest offices, +to which his noble profession and his gallant +conduct had led him. Upon Ellen—the dear, +the gentle Ellen—the love, the devotion, which +once was her mother’s due, devolved at her +mother’s death: and although Ellen, who was +everything father could desire, could not but +feel conscious of her power over him, she was +the least presuming of daughters, the most +gentle, and most amiable of girls.</p> + +<p>When Sir Cadwallader was offered the commandership-in-chief +and second seat in council +at the presidency to which he was attached, he +accepted it, upon the chivalrous feeling of the +greatest soldier, not only of the day, but of the +land we live in—that he was the King’s servant, +and equally bound to obey his commands +in the highest and lowest of offices; and although +possessed of wealth which rendered the +appointment pecuniarily unimportant, he readily +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span>relinquished his domestic ease and comfort for +the more <em>negatively</em> active domination over an +Oriental army.</p> + +<p>While holding this appointment, his constant +endeavour appeared to be, to make everybody +happy around him. There was nothing in the +state of the country which seemed to require +any of the austerity of military discipline; and +the routine duty, although comprehending an +extensive range, was not that which required the +vigilance and activity of war. He “took the +thing easy” himself, and his greatest pleasure +was to see everybody subordinate to himself do +exactly the same. He never grumbled if he +saw men in “mufti” or “white jackets;” desired +every man to “make himself comfortable” +when he came to dinner; and, in short, was +about the best-natured being that ever melted +under an Indian sun.</p> + +<p>That he had taken a great fancy to Brown +was clear. Major Mopes, whose death-like +countenance never relaxed into a smile, but of +whom Sir Cadwallader had the highest opinion, +inasmuch as he saved His Excellency all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span>the trouble, not only of writing but of thinking, +had spoken very highly of George, and enlarged +upon the meritorious course he had pursued +in entering the army, as he had done, in order +to relieve his mother, who <em>had been</em> in such a +different position in society, from all charge +for his support. This recommendation led Sir +Cadwallader to talk to him: he found him well-informed, +well-read, intelligent, and, in fact, a +gentleman. The prepossession thus created, +and which went to the extent of procuring him +the commission, extended further, and the only +phrase—it is a simple one, and best suits the +general’s feeling, is,—“he liked him.”</p> + +<p>How often such prepossessions take hold of +people, and how seldom are they erroneous!—how +unaccountable are the sympathies by +which such prepossessions are created! The +moment Sir Cadwallader heard George’s story, +and received the testimonials of his merit and +ability, he resolved to serve him,—and, in +fact, to restore him to his place in society as a +gentleman, which he pronounced him to be to +his daughter, while he was yet his secretary’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span>clerk, as he was sitting with her in the windward +<span id="TN12">varhandah</span> smoking his chilum.</p> + +<p>Ellen Adamthwaite, who, of course, saw +George almost every day, accidentally, or perhaps +incidentally, could not help participating +in the interest which her father took in his fate, +especially as the history of his wife’s misconduct +and death were matters of notoriety in +the family, from Major Mopes’s frequent recurrence +to the circumstance of their elopement +from England,—and the commiserating “What +a pity it is that nothing can be done to reclaim +a person originally so respectable!” which was +so often on his lips.</p> + +<p>When George became by royal authority a +gentleman, and Ellen found she might look at +him, and even speak to him, without any indecorum, +she certainly felt more than ever the +hardship of his case while doing the duty which +his filial affection had imposed upon him, even +regretting, as he did himself, the cause which, +no doubt, was truly assigned for his wife’s distressing +dereliction from every religious, moral, +and social duty.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span></p> + +<p>Nothing more readily excites an interest +in a woman’s heart than a bit of the romance +of real life. George, selected by her kind-hearted +father for favour and promotion, was +brought into her society the son of a ruined +merchant, who had received the education of a +gentleman, and had been educated in the expectation +of succeeding to his father’s wealth. +He enters the army as a private soldier, to relieve +his mother from the burthen of maintaining +him, and he elopes with a girl who is desperately +in love with him. In his past life, therefore, +there appeared a combination of events, +sufficiently romantic to awaken a particular feeling +towards him; and it was not many days +after his domestication at the general’s, before +Ellen found her eyes resting upon his intelligent +countenance much oftener than upon any +other object in the room.</p> + +<p>There was a manly modesty in George’s manner—a +sort of consciousness of what he might +have been, of what he had been, and yet, of +what he <em>was</em>, which was peculiarly conciliating. +Sir Cadwallader lost no opportunity of bringing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span>him forward. It seemed, indeed, to be his +study to make him appear to the best possible +advantage in company, in order, as it might +be thought, to justify the partiality he had +evinced for him, and the good opinion he entertained +of him.</p> + +<p>In London the circle is so extensive, that +although some hundred or two people whisper, +and look wise, and nod and wink at each other +when a flirtation becomes a little too evident, +there are seven or eight hundred others to whom +it is a matter of no interest; and, moreover, +whatever people think, they keep their thoughts +as far distant as possible from the flirters +themselves. Within the confined ring-fence +of an Indian presidency, the slightest movement +of that nature at head-quarters creates a +universal sensation; all the worst passions of +mankind are concentered and pemmican’d in a +little community of that sort; envy and jealousy +assume the garb of friendship and esteem; +and some miserable wretch, whose hatred towards +one of the parties has been engendered +or fostered by the remembrance of a slight or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span>neglect, thinks it a duty he owes to so excellent +a man as his Excellency the commander-in-chief, +to mention to him what people say about +his daughter and Mr. Somebody, whose society +and conversation she happens to prefer to that +of the considerate friend of her father.</p> + +<p>Two months had not flown over George’s +head in his new capacity before the whole tribe +were in motion. “To be sure,” says one, “Sir +Cadwallader is an extraordinary man:—he +can’t but see it.” “Perhaps he does not +object to it,” says another. “La!” cries a +third: “what! let his daughter marry a man +from the ranks!” “Hush!” says a fourth—“the +less we say about <em>that</em> the better: rose +from the ranks himself.” “Flogged at Chatham +for stealing a cock turkey,” says a fifth. +“Hush!” says a sixth, “here comes his Excellency.” +Out turns the guard—ruffle goes the +drum—rattledum slap go the muskets—and +his Excellency is immediately surrounded by +the little group in the full exercise of Koo-too-ism, +who, the moment before, were exercising +their historical and biographical faculties in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span>commenting upon the folly of his Excellency’s +conduct, and in descanting upon the obscurity +of his Excellency’s birth.</p> + +<p>That Ellen and George were somehow more +paired off together, than any other two of the +party, is most certain. In her conversation +with him she did not disguise her esteem and +regard for his good qualities, which made +themselves evident upon every possible occasion; +while <em>he</em>, regarding her as a superior +being, felt that sort of admiration which wise +men say is not compatible with tenderness. +The whole economy of love, however, is so intricate, +so perplexing, so mysterious, and so +perilous, that there exists no rule throughout +the whole system without an exception.</p> + +<p>George once or twice thought that Miss +Adamthwaite looked more than she said; and +though he had not sufficiently considered the +matter even to assure himself that of all girls +in the world she was the very last for whom +he ought to encourage an affection, a word +dropped by one of his friends on the staff, suddenly +brought to his mind the real position in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span>which he was placed. Then it was he taxed +himself with selfishness in seeking her society; +then it was he resolved to alienate himself from +the delight which her conversation and accomplishments +afforded him:—he would mix more +generally in society; he would dine abroad +whenever he could, and would go out immediately +after his official business was over; he +would not go to tiffin, nor walk for an hour or +two with Ellen in the varhandah: in short, he +would not endanger her peace or comfort by +giving occasion for remarks, which although +wholly without foundation, might wound her +feelings or injure her reputation.</p> + +<p>It was not till the moment he made these +resolutions that the real state of his heart +became known to himself. It was only <em>then</em> +he discovered that he could not act upon +his own determination. When tiffin was announced +the next day, Sir Cadwallader forced +him to stay and partake of it—desired his +daughter to lay <em>her</em> commands upon him:—then, +by his Excellency’s orders, they played +chess together,—and then came in some visiters—George, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span>of course, could not leave <em>them</em>:—and +then—and then—in fact, the very first day +after <em>that</em> in which he had decided upon a total +alteration in his proceedings, was passed precisely +as the thirty or forty preceding days had +been passed.</p> + +<p>It is a generally admitted axiom, that “abstinence +is less difficult than moderation;” and +so it seems thought George: for failing in his +project of philosophically decreasing his happiness +gradually, he came to the resolution of +abandoning it altogether.</p> + +<p>The project George meditated to carry this +“stern resolve” into execution, was one which +did honour to his heart; but it required a confederate, +and that very circumstance enhanced +its difficulty. The moment he had ascertained +the real state of his feelings, he more attentively—perhaps +tenderly would be a better +word—watched the dear girl to whom he was +devoted. It was too true:—looks and actions +which he had attributed to friendship, or even +to a compliance with her father’s wishes, now +that he had ventured to think of love, bore a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span>totally different character. Whatever dress he +had accidentally praised, Ellen more constantly +wore; the flower he preferred was always in +her bosom; the songs he loved to hear, she +sang; and opinions which he had once expressed, +she adopted for her own.</p> + +<p>Oh! those who have never felt the tender, galling +anxiety of a state like this, cannot appreciate +George’s feelings during the week after he had +made the discovery of his real position. What +had he done?—gained the affections of his benefactor’s +daughter! It was not vanity that suggested +the truth: the word once spoken that +gave <em>that</em> turn to his thoughts, decided it. The +fascination was over him—he was conscious +that he was beloved. How he acted under +this impression remains to be seen.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX"> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Amongst his friends—for of a few associates +he had many—the friend George fixed upon +as the one to aid him in his rescue from the +commission of what he considered the damning +crime of ingratitude, was the surgeon of his own +regiment—a man of sense and shrewdness, and +one who was professionally taciturn upon subjects +not intended for general conversation:—to +him, after mature deliberation, George proceeded, +and having begged his private ear, +told him he wanted his immediate aid.</p> + +<p>“What!—a duel?” said Dr. Short.</p> + +<p>“No, my dear doctor,” said George, “I am +ill—seriously ill. I have a constant pain in +my side. I ought not to stay here. I must +resign my assistant-secretaryship and go home +for my health. I want a sick certificate.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span></p> + +<p>“Umph!” said Short—“I see—yes—on +which side is the pain—left—right?”</p> + +<p>“Intensely severe on the right side,” said +George. “I cannot lift my arm perpendicularly +without feeling the most excruciating torture.”</p> + +<p>“Umph!” said the doctor. “You know +what Abernethy said upon that point to the +old woman who said the same thing to <em>him</em>—eh!—What +a fool you must be to try!—eh!”</p> + +<p>“I assure you, doctor, mine is no laughing +matter,” said George.</p> + +<p>“Let’s see your tongue. Umph!—clean as +a whistle, and red as beet-root. Won’t do—eh! +No tricks upon travellers—no case of +liver. Can’t do what you want—or what you +don’t want. Did Sir Cadwallader send you +to me?”</p> + +<p>“No, indeed,” said George, “no human +being is aware of my visit to you.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you make a secret of it, eh?” +said Short. “Every man has a liver; every +liver is subject to disease. What’s the use of +mystery?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span></p> + +<p>“I know of no mystery,” said George.</p> + +<p>“Won’t do, Mr. Assistant-secretary,” said +Short. “A surgeon ought to have an eagle’s +eye, a lion’s heart, and a lady’s hand. Cannot +say I have all those qualities; but as far as the +eye goes, I think, I can see as far as my neighbours—eh!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you should make a +merit of seeing,” said George. “I have no +disguises—I wish to be candid with you.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said Short, “now I see. You want +to tell me you have nothing the matter with +you: and yet you want me to give you a sick +certificate—eh!—that’s it—umph!”</p> + +<p>“My dear doctor,” said George, “I believe +you <em>do</em> know something of my feelings, for you +certainly have guessed my wishes. I am <em>not</em> ill,—at +least in body; but I may be saved from +being ill in body, in mind, in reputation, and +in conscience, if you will but grant your fiat +for shipping me to England.”</p> + +<p>“<em>I</em> know,” said Short, “you are as safe in +<em>my</em> care as a baby on her mother’s bosom:—but +I say—those grey eyes and black eyelashes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span>are the devil!—aren’t they?—umph!—sweet +creature! Come, no nonsense, or you get no +certificate. You know it is all mighty fine +your coming to me, looking as mysterious as +a playhouse conspirator: everybody here, except +your two selves, and perhaps Sir Cad. +knows the whole story.”</p> + +<p>“What story?” said George:—“no word +has ever passed my lips—”</p> + +<p>“No: but a great many have passed the +lips of other people,” said Short. “As for +your own words, they are what we call superfluous—the +eyes have it—eh!—umph!”</p> + +<p>“What you say, doctor,” said George, +“makes me miserable.”</p> + +<p>“Very!” said Short. “I know—it makes +every man miserable to have gained the affections +of a charming, amiable girl, with a hundred +and fifty thousand pounds:—it is quite a +calamity! Poor Mr. Assistant-secretary!—you +can’t think how I pity you!”</p> + +<p>“Doctor, this is no joking matter,” said +George. “It is useless, I perceive, to attempt +disguise with <em>you</em>: you have seen or heard +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span>what I never suspected could have been even +remarkable. If I wished your assistance upon +this point when I came into this room, it is ten +thousand times more desirable to me now.”</p> + +<p>“Umph!” said Short. “Why?”</p> + +<p>“Why!” exclaimed George:—“we have +so suddenly and deeply plunged into this discussion; +you assume so much, and I have such +perfect faith and confidence in you, that—”</p> + +<p>“You are good enough to propose telling +me what I know already,” interrupted Short.</p> + +<p>“No, not what you know already,” said +George, “but what my resolution is. The +general, in the outset of my career here, befriended +me, espoused my cause, restored me +to society, and made me what I am. I am admitted +into his family, and I evince my gratitude +to him for all his kindnesses by—”</p> + +<p>“—By permitting his daughter to fall in +love with you!” said Short:—“how can <em>you</em> +help that?”</p> + +<p>“If such should be the case,” said George, +“it is my duty instantly to quit this place.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure!” said Short—“and add to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span>all the other marks of your sense of the General’s +obligations by leaving his only darling +child to break her heart.”</p> + +<p>“Do not talk in this way, doctor,” said the +assistant secretary, “it is I”—</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” said Short. “No nonsense: stay +where you are—I’ll give you no certificate.”</p> + +<p>“Then I must go without one,” said George. +“Private business in England”—</p> + +<p>“Very private, indeed!” said Short. “I say, +stay where you are.”</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” said George, “it is impossible! +What you have told me now, in +addition to a remark which I accidentally overheard, +renders it imperatively necessary that I +should go. It is the only favour I have ventured +to ask of you, or of any man since I have +been here: grant me the certificate, let me +show it to Sir Cadwallader, and tear myself +away from the only place in the world where I +care to live.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Short, putting his finger to his +nose—“mutual, I see. Umph!”</p> + +<p>“I did not say—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, you did,” said Short. “How do you +know Sir Cad. will let you go?”</p> + +<p>“If he could,” said George, “which for +worlds I would not he should, even fancy what +is passing in this room, he would—”</p> + +<p>“What!” said Short—“do you think he +does not know what is passing in your mind +and that of Miss Ellen’s?”</p> + +<p>“What <em>is</em> passing in our minds?” asked +George.</p> + +<p>“<em>Our</em> minds!” said Short—“umph!—that’s +it—<em>our</em> minds! The glorious <em>we</em> of literature +is not more commanding than the ‘our’ of +you two. Why, you are over head and ears in +love with each other, and you cannot help +showing it wherever you are. I know the +symptoms, Mr. Assistant-secretary—have had +the complaint myself: so has Sir Cad.—a +great practitioner in <em>that</em> way:—d’ye think he +is blind?”</p> + +<p>“I know he is everything that is kind and +good,” said George.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, perhaps his goodness and kindness +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span>may go the length of wishing you to be +his son-in-law,” said Short.</p> + +<p>“Impossible!” said George—“a creature +he has made—”</p> + +<p>“Umph!” said Short,—“don’t see how +that interferes—eh! You had better talk to +<em>her</em> of your heart than to <em>me</em> of your liver. +See what <em>he</em> says—or, if you don’t like that, +<em>I</em> will.”</p> + +<p>“Doctor!” said George, looking extremely +fierce.</p> + +<p>“I will,” said Short;—“that is to say, I +shall tell his Excellency officially that you +have applied for a sick certificate; and, if +you’ll trust to me, I’ll work it to the best +advantage. If Sir Cad. is crusty, you shall +have it. A pain in the side makes no show:—I +can’t tell whether you have a pain in +your side or not. If he demur to your going, +you shall be in excellent health; if he +frown, and expresses a wish that way, you +shall be shipped for Cheltenham in a fortnight.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span></p> + +<p>“I knew,” said George, “you would be my +friend.”</p> + +<p>“I <em>am</em> your friend,” said the doctor, “therefore +I want you to stop. You have enemies +here as well as your betters. Your going would +be a triumph to some half-dozen of the fellows +who have been dangling after Miss Ellen for +the last two years, and who have never got so +much as a smile from her for their pains. No, +no: mark me, Mr. Assistant-secretary;—put +the affair into my hands, and you shall have the +sick certificate when <em>I</em> think you want it, and +not before.”</p> + +<p>George, it must be confessed, was incalculably +surprised at the evident notoriety of an attachment +of which he even fancied himself unconscious +only a few days before. That the lookers-on +see more than the players, is generally said, +and here was a proof of the correctness of the +saying: the very circumstance, however, of its +having become a topic of general conversation +strengthened, as we have seen, his determination +to put an end to the scandal through +the aid of his friend Short.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span></p> + +<p>Had he not been bound to his military duty +by military law, his retreat could have been +easily managed; but it was absolutely necessary +that the very man from whom he wished +to keep his motives for going, secret, should be +the person, and the only person, who could dispense +with his services, and grant him leave to +put his plan into execution. As it was, he had +only to trust to the doctor, whose proceedings +he endeavoured to accelerate by pointing out +to him the dangers of delay.</p> + +<p>That he was not slow to act, George soon +discovered. At dinner the next day Sir Cadwallader +began to throw out hints that he was +aware of George’s intention of applying for +the certificate, and in general terms censured +the conduct of commanding officers who, by +permitting themselves to be parties to a deception +practised under the connivance of medical +officers, committed themselves as accomplices +to what, after all, however strong the +phrase might sound, was little better than a +deliberate fraud.</p> + +<p>“There’s jobbing all over the world,” said +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span>his Excellency. “One is never safe. Any +fellow that wants to shirk duty, makes friends +with the doctor, and out comes a sick certificate.—What’s +the matter?—liver, to be +sure! As Short says, ‘Who can see a pain in +the side?’”</p> + +<p>Nobody spoke, because nobody exactly comprehended +what his Excellency meant by this +gratuitous observation, except George, who felt +himself get extremely red in the face,—a very +natural consequence of being talked <em>at</em> by a +commander-in-chief. Ellen did not know to +whom the observation referred, and looked +round the table to see if any of the half-dozen +guests were affected. Her look rested on George: +their eyes met: they both became suddenly +embarrassed, and Sir Cadwallader, who was +good at a long shot, saw the glance and the +response, which confirmed his suspicions, and +decided his course of conduct.</p> + +<p>The evening of this day was passed as agreeably +as the evening before, but Ellen felt a +difference in George’s manner towards her: she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span>could scarcely define what it was, or how to +account for it, and yet it somehow connected +itself in her mind with her father’s hypothetical +observation at dinner. The guests departed, +unregretted by either of the lovers, for so, unconsciously +they were; and the party was reduced +to a trio, composed of Sir Cadwallader, +Ellen, and the assistant military secretary, who +always lingered last of the throng, were it never +so late.</p> + +<p>“So,” said Sir Cadwallader, after a short +pause, “I suppose, Mr. Brown, you felt the +force of my little remark at dinner about sick +certificates—eh! I hope you did—it was +meant expressly for <em>you</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Sir!” faltered George, anticipating the +burst of displeasure which he was assured +would follow this announcement.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said his Excellency, “I understand +you have been applying to Short for one +of those melancholy testimonials of ill health, +with a liver as sound as a roach, and the constitution +of a ploughman.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span></p> + +<p>“I assure your Excellency,” said George, +“that—I am not capable of deception upon +any point:—I”—</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you call deception, Mr. +Brown,” said Sir Cadwallader; “you are in +good health, and you want the doctor to say +you are sick, in order to quit your duty, and +leave those who wish you well.”</p> + +<p>Ellen, who began to feel extremely uneasy, +and think her presence at such a scene was +scarcely necessary, rose to depart.</p> + +<p>“Stay, Miss,” said the General—“wait to +hear what the gentleman has to say for himself.”</p> + +<p>“Really, papa,” said Ellen—</p> + +<p>“Really, Miss,” said the General—“recollect +I am commanding officer here: obey orders—sit +you down, Miss. If you wished for +leave of absence, Mr. Brown, why not have +applied to me upon any fair ground? I hate +shamming—eh!”</p> + +<p>“It is impossible,” said George, “for me +either to extenuate or explain my fault. It is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span>now known to you, sir:—there can be no difficulty +in my going <em>now</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Why so, sir?” said his Excellency.</p> + +<p>“You have exhibited my thoughtless—my +ungrateful conduct, in its proper light,” said +George: “I cannot—indeed, I cannot remain +longer with you.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose, sir, I cannot spare you,” said the +General.</p> + +<p>“<em>My</em> services, sir,” said, or rather sobbed, +George, “are of no importance. I—”</p> + +<p>“That’s matter of opinion,” said the General. +“But suppose <em>I</em> could manage without +you—look at that young lady there—d’ye +think <em>she</em> could spare you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, father!” said Ellen, who had sat +trembling, and cold, and pale, during the +conversation—“I—don’t wish to interfere.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t!” said Sir Cadwallader—“not +interfere!—you <em>do</em> wish to interfere, Miss. +Lord bless your heart! Elly,—haven’t I been +young myself—eh? No, no, you can’t cheat +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span><em>me</em>, cunning as you are:—you love this fellow, +and he loves <em>you</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Father!” said Ellen.</p> + +<p>Brown said nothing, but looked as if the +world was on the point of annihilation.</p> + +<p>“Don’t contradict me, Elly,” said the General: +“where’s the harm?—where’s the wrong? +When I heard George’s story, I was resolved to +restore him to his proper place in society. I +brought him into my house—into my family—and +you have fallen in love with each other:—that’s +<em>my</em> affair. What then? When I first +knew your poor dear mother—the best of women +and of wives!—what was I?—a subaltern—the +second son of a grocer at Gloucester. That +was it, George—her mother was an heiress.—It +sounds vain now—she fell in love +with me, as I did with <em>her</em>. Well, I became +possessed of her fortune; <em>that</em> enabled me to +purchase up in my profession: and if it had +not been for that, I might have been now a +hoary-headed lieutenant, or at best a captain +of sixty-two, going through my daily ‘Halt—left +wheel,’ till my legs ached, instead of being +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span>here a titled and decorated commander-in-chief. +What has that dear woman to whom, under +Providence, I owe everything, left me?—this +girl—this child of my heart—the dearest—the +only object of my affections! Half a glance +tells me the state of the case.”</p> + +<p>Ellen sat with her eyes fixed upon her father—George’s +filled with tears—and what gem is +brighter than a soldier’s tear so shed?</p> + +<p>“Your conduct, sir,” said the General, “has +done you the greatest honour. I appreciate +it in the highest degree. But it won’t do—go +you do not. If my Elly here is foolish enough +to sympathize with her father in his predilections, +and chooses to give her heart to an ensign +without a shilling, what am I to do?—why, +I’ll tell you, Mr. Brown,—religiously to +realize whatever wishes she may entertain, for +the sake of her beloved mother, and to take +care that she does not make a foolish match +with somebody not half so worthy of her.”</p> + +<p>“My dear father,” said Ellen—</p> + +<p>“<i lang="la">Tace, tace!</i> daughter of mine,” said Sir +Cadwallader:—“don’t coquet,—don’t try to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span>deceive me. George, come here:—I am serious—take +her hand, my good, excellent fellow! +You, who have been so admirable a son, cannot +fail to make a good husband. This is my +firm conviction.”</p> + +<p>“But, sir,” said Miss Adamthwaite, rising, +“I”—</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said the general, “you don’t like +him! Oh! that, indeed, is a different affair:—then +I am out in my reckoning, and there’s an +end of the business.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say,” said Ellen,—and bursting +into tears, she caught her father round the +neck, and her head dropped upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Come here, George,” said Sir Cadwallader—“come +here!—take her from me! I know +what she means:—she is your’s!”—“I have +neither chick nor child but this beloved one!” +continued the General, who seemed to have +caught the infection of weeping—“I have nobody +to please but her and myself. I think I +have taken the surest method of doing both. +I hate fine speeches—I don’t want thanks—so, +my dear souls, God bless you both! I’m +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span>off—a syllable more from me would spoil it +all. Talk over your own matters. Let these +be the last tears I ever see you shed; and to-morrow +the babblers, and tattlers, and scandal-mongers, +shall have the pleasure of hearing +how the old general has been fool enough to +give his only daughter to a penniless subaltern! +Good night! my children—good night!”</p> + +<p>Saying which, away went Sir Cadwallader, +leaving the affianced lovers in a state of doubt +whether they were awake or in a dream. George +gazed on the blushing girl, even yet doubting +whether she would fulfil her father’s intentions. +Their eyes met:—those doubts vanished. +Words were inadequate to the expression +of their feelings:—he caught her in his arms +and pressed her to his panting heart:—at +which particular moment, Major Mopes, military +secretary to his Excellency Sir Cadwallader +Adamthwaite, and Captain Narcissus +Fripps, his Excellency’s senior <span id="TN13">aide-du-camp</span>, +passed along the varhandah, into which all the +doors and windows of his Excellency’s drawing-room +opened.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span></p> + +<p>This exhibition of mutual tenderness was, +it must be admitted, something likely to make +a commotion in a small circle. It, however, +produced effects upon the military secretary +and the aide-du-camp of a totally different +character. Major Mopes, who had the highest +opinion of George, and whose praises of his +conduct had mainly conduced to create the +interest which the general took in him, was +horror-stricken. The idea that <em>he</em> had been +chiefly instrumental in bringing him into Sir +Cadwallader’s family, the happiness of which +he was now so evidently attempting to destroy, +filled him with regret and indignation: all he +hoped was, that his companion, Captain Fripps, +might not have seen all that <em>he</em> had witnessed. +He felt that if the secret were confined to himself, +George might yet be saved; that an appeal +to his sense of honour and right feeling +would induce him immediately to withdraw +himself from a sphere so dangerous as that +in which he now was moving,—little thinking +that George had decided upon doing so a +week before.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span></p> + +<p>The aide-du-camp, however, <em>had</em> seen the +sight—which so startled him, that he, like the +major, but from very different motives, did +not speak a word. At the end of the varhandah +they parted for the night, during which, +while Major Mopes lay considering how he +might best save George and Ellen, and smother +the whole affair, the captain was arranging +the manner in which it would be best to +communicate the circumstance to the general +so as to obtain the greatest possible credit for +himself, and secure the immediate dismissal of +his apparently favoured rival in the general’s +consideration. For which purpose, the ingenuous +and ingenious gentleman, instead of going to +bed, as was his original intention, returned to +the barracks and to the quarters of his bosom +friend, Ensign Honeyman, whom he had just +left, in order to avail himself of his advice: +thus, in the very first instance, himself doing +all the mischief to Ellen’s character and reputation, +the preservation of which from injury +was to be made the ostensible ground of his +communication of the fact to her father.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span></p> + +<p>Honeyman, who was the inseparable companion +of Fripps, agreed entirely with his +friend on the course to be pursued in order to +overthrow Brown; and it was accordingly settled +that the captain should, the very first +thing in the morning, make a confidential report +to his Excellency of what had occurred.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the unconscious lovers, whose parting +kiss formed the subject of contemplation for +both the gallant heroes, were thinking of each +other and of the happiness which had taken +them so completely by surprise, that they could +scarcely think what had passed during the evening +anything but a bright, yet baseless vision. +The old general was the only one of the inmates +of the house who slept soundly. He went to bed +to rest upon the consciousness of having made +two people happy—of having realised his intentions +of providing for George—and gratified his +wish of giving Ellen the man to whom, insensibly +and unconsciously, she had become devotedly +attached:—and, above all this, he revelled +in the pleasure of having found out their secret, +and anticipated any communication on the subject +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span>from either of themselves:—add to this, +his just appreciation of George’s anxiety to +quit the only place in the world which was +dear to him—to surrender all the worldly advantages +it afforded, to preserve the being he +loved from the anger of her parent, the malice +of her <em>friends</em>—or, putting it as an extreme +case, the ills of a marriage with a man who +would have nothing but an ensign’s half-pay, +even if, under the circumstances, he could +secure that—and the amount of Sir Cadwallader’s +self-gratulation may be in some degree +ascertained.</p> + +<p>The gun had scarcely announced the dawn +of day when Captain Narcissus Fripps was up +and stirring; there was no time to be lost. +It was his turn to ride with the general before +breakfast; the opportunity would be favourable; +the success of the disclosure was unquestionable. +The getting rid of George was his +great object; for the captain’s jealousy of the +interloper, as he considered him, was not so +much excited by his evident success with the +young lady, as by the favourable estimation in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span>which the young lady’s father held him and his +character: and when jealousy takes possession +of the mind, it leaves room for no other passions +but such as may be made subservient to +its own ends, and which may be called into +action for its own revengeful gratification.</p> + +<p>Lavater says, that “he, who being master of +the fittest moment to crush his enemy, magnanimously +neglects it, is born to be a conqueror.” +Captain Narcissus Fripps, whatever heroic +deeds he might have been destined to do +in other days, did by no means display this +evidence of future success; and although George +was neither his, nor any other man’s enemy, he +resolved that two hours should not elapse before +he was irrecoverably ruined in Sir Cadwallader’s +estimation.</p> + +<p>The captain was a fair, sickly-looking man, +always extremely well dressed, his hair assiduously +ringleted on his cheeks and over his +forehead. He wore divers rings upon his fingers, +and sundry chains around his neck; his +clothes fitted him as if they were his skin. +His voice was drawling, and he lisped a little. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span>When he talked, he pawed the air with his hands +flappingly, something after the fashion of a kangaroo; +and when he wished to be particularly +lively, playfully patted the arm of the person +with whom he was conversing, affecting himself +always to be excessively shocked at everything +that everybody said to him: in short, nobody +could exactly make him out. He was considered +excessively fine—evidently fancied himself a +beauty, and was not quite free from a suspicion +of aiding nature in the getting up of his +complexion, by borrowing a tinge from art.</p> + +<p>To have been treated neglectfully by a young +lady of Ellen’s qualifications, and that she +should so readily have permitted such marked +advances on the part of one so unquestionably +his inferior in rank and station, (for the +Fripps’ blood had been ennobled in a remote degree +from Narcissus,) was galling beyond measure; +although his attentions to Miss Adamthwaite +had never gone much farther than +singing to her by moonlight, accompanying +himself on the guitar, or making her a pair of +card-racks, or painting a couple of rose-buds +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span>on the top of a cotton box. If she sometimes +worked at those often-mentioned, indescribable +strips of muslin which engage the attention of +modern fine ladies, he would thread her needle +for her; and in winding off silk on his thumbs +he was most assiduous and skilful. It was therefore +the indignity which he considered the circumstance +to involve, rather than the jealousy +of a lover, which urged him on to ruin George. +<em>His</em> fate, however, was sealed, and when the +horses were at the door, Captain Narcissus felt +his heart beat with anxiety for the discovery. +“Lie still, little flutterer,” said he, as he pressed +his hand to his bosom; and mounting his +steed, rode slowly off with his Excellency the +Commander of the forces, to make their accustomed +matutinal excursion.</p> + +<p>Horseback, it must be confessed, whether +the pace be a walk, trot, amble, canter, or +gallop, is not altogether suitable or convenient +for confidential communication; and +when the captain found the general resolved +upon adopting the penultimate pace of those +enumerated, he felt the difficulty of breaking +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span>the business to him insuperable. Indeed, Sir +Cadwallader was not particularly partial to his +aide-du-camp’s society, and preferred, when +circumstances permitted, the company of Major +Mopes, who, upon the morning in question, +stayed at home to counteract, if possible, the ill +effects of the representation which the captain +went abroad expressly to make.</p> + +<p>After a start of a mile or so, Sir Cadwallader +pulled up, and suggested to the captain that +they should dismount, and walk up to a rising +ground on the other side of a fordable nullah, +in order to get a view of the town at a point +from which Miss Adamthwaite had made a +drawing, but which the general had himself +never happened to visit. This was more fortunate +for Narcissus than even <em>he</em> could have +hoped; the place—the subject—all naturally +tended to the point he had in view. The +“little flutterer” would lie still no longer: the +aptness of the opportunity delighted him, and +he was decided to avail himself of it forthwith.</p> + +<p>“Were you here with Ellen when she made +the sketch?” said Sir Cadwallader.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh! dear, no, general,” said Fripps, “I +never come out upon sketching parties with +ladies: I shouldn’t think of doing such a +thing.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see the harm of it,” said his Excellency. +“In Italy, Ellen used to pass the +greatest part of the day in drawing from Nature: +it would have been dull work if she had +thought it necessary to have remained always +alone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear Italy!” said Narcissus, sighing +and turning up his eyes—“the climate is so +charming there.”</p> + +<p>“Climate makes no great difference in conduct,” +said Sir Cadwallader.</p> + +<p>“No, to be sure,” said the captain, “but—I +am so very particular, I never presume on +the good-nature of the dear ladies. Indeed +what I see going on with other people sometimes +shocks me—not only on account of my +own feelings as they regard delicacy, but as far +as the honour and happiness of those I esteem +and respect are concerned.”</p> + +<p>“Honour and happiness!” said the General,—“what +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span>the deuce have honour and happiness +to do with a water-colour drawing?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! dear no, general,” said the captain, +pawing the air, “I did not say they had; but—perhaps +to the artist they may be something.”</p> + +<p>“I hope, if you mean Ellen,” said Sir Cadwallader, +“they have a great deal to do with +her.”</p> + +<p>“Really, general,” said Fripps, “I don’t +know what to say; but I have something to +tell you which you ought to know.”</p> + +<p>“Why, then, out with it, Fripps,” said Sir +Cadwallader.</p> + +<p>“Oh! I can’t tell you all at once,” said the +captain. “I know you will be very angry—but +I’m sure I ought to tell you: and yet I +don’t know how I shall ever be able to do such +a thing!”</p> + +<p>“What! is there a plot brewing, or a mutiny +hatching?” said the General.</p> + +<p>“Oh! no sir,” said Fripps, “it is nothing +public; it is——oh, I can’t tell you!”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said the General, “I am not very +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span>particular as to time; only as you have begun, +you may as well go on.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s so very fie-fie! Sir Cadwallader,” +said Narcissus.</p> + +<p>“Very what?” said his Excellency.</p> + +<p>“Very naughty, sir,” replied the aide-du-camp.</p> + +<p>“Who is it about?” asked his Excellency.</p> + +<p>“That is what I’m almost afraid to say,” +continued Fripps. “I never was so shocked +in my life!—I declare I did not recover myself +for two hours after.”</p> + +<p>“After what?” said the General:—“do +speak out.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know how to explain,” said Fripps, +wringing his hands like</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Some sad widow o’er her babe deploring”—</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>“but I’ll endeavour.”</p> + +<p>“Is it anything about my daughter?” said +Sir Cadwallader, who, although unaware that +any scene had taken place, had long remarked +the aide-du-camp’s growing dislike of George.</p> + +<p>“La, General!—you are such a man,” said +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span>Fripps, “I declare, you seem to know everything +by intuition.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said his Excellency, “what has she +been doing?”</p> + +<p>“I know I shall never be able to explain it +quite,” said Fripps; “but—I—think I may +mention that—people think—I—that is, Mr. +Brown—is—rather too free—and particular—and—”</p> + +<p>“Umph!” said Sir Cadwallader. “If <em>I</em> +don’t find fault, and <em>she</em> does not find fault +with his attentions,—that is, if he does pay her +particular attention,—there is no great harm in +<em>that</em>, Captain Fripps.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” said the captain; “but I’m sure +you cannot guess. It is no fault of Miss +Ellen’s—that I am certain of:—but—you have +no idea. Oh! upon my word—that Mr. Brown—I +speak, you know, in confidence to you, sir—but—he +is such a rude man.”</p> + +<p>“Rude!” said Sir Cadwallader—“do you +think so? As far—”</p> + +<p>“Ah! that’s where it is,” said Fripps, pawing +and ambling about—“I can’t—it is something +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span>so very fie-fie—only you ought to know +it: but, I declare, I don’t know how to say +it out.”</p> + +<p>“When did all this occur?” said Sir Cadwallader.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t lost a moment in telling your +Excellency,” said Fripps: “what I saw happened +last night.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said the General—(every doubt of +George’s honourable conduct having been released +by learning the date of the affair, whatever +it was, which had shocked the delicacy +of the exquisite Narcissus)—“was it very +bad?”</p> + +<p>“I never did such a thing myself in all my +life, Sir Cadwallader,” said Fripps; “and, upon +my honour! I am sorry to have seen it: it has +quite upset me.”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t catch them in what the book-makers +call ‘an interesting situation,’ Captain +Fripps, did you?” said Sir Cadwallader.</p> + +<p>“La! General, you are such a man,” said +Fripps. “I declare, how you guessed it I +cannot think—but you are right: so the moment +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span>I saw it, I said to myself—well! if ever—Oh! +gracious—to think of the man that his +Excellency has raised to his present station!—to +think of—”</p> + +<p>“That will do, captain,” said the General. +“I am quite aware of the excellence of your +intentions, and I thank you for your excessive +care of Ellen’s interest and prospects:—now +let us look at the prospect before us.”</p> + +<p>“Well!” said Fripps to himself, “if ever I +saw such a man!”—“To think, you know, of +that nasty, great, coarse creature, Brown—well, +if ever I—”</p> + +<p>“I think she has done it remarkably well,” +said the general, putting his hand varhandah-wise +over his eyes, to look at the beautiful +panorama before them.</p> + +<p>“What, sir?” said Fripps, ambling about +and twiddling his curls.</p> + +<p>“The view,” replied the General. “That +bungalow in the foreground is a beautiful object, +and she has made the most of it. It is +odd enough, often as I have been on the Mulligopatemy +road, I never was here before.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span></p> + +<p>Fripps looked at his Excellency with amazement, +and almost began to repent not having +himself been more lively with Miss Ellen, to +whose reputed fortune Narcissus would have +had no earthly objection, even encumbered with +the lady herself.</p> + +<p>“And so,” said Sir Cadwallader, returning +to the subject, “you surprised <em>my</em> daughter +and my assistant military secretary in an interesting +situation—eh?”</p> + +<p>“Upon my word, General, it was not intentional +on my part,” said Fripps. “I had just +been taking some of Hoffman’s capillaire and +water, and a sponge biscuit with Ensign Honeyman +at his quarters, where we had been singing +some little Sicilian duets to the guitar by +moonlight, and time flew so quickly, that it was +near eleven o’clock before we thought of separating. +When I came home I met Major Mopes +at the gate, and we went together through the +varhandah, and there—I really—I assure +you it is the first time I ever saw such a thing—but +there—there—Oh! how shall I describe +the scene?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span></p> + +<p>“You saw Mr. Brown kiss my daughter, +perhaps:—I understand perfectly,” said the +General:—“that’s enough, Captain Fripps; +we will settle <em>that</em> gentleman’s affair after breakfast. +So, come, let us take to our horses, and +finish our ride.”</p> + +<p>It must be admitted that Captain Fripps +felt disagreeably disappointed by the manner +in which his Excellency received his account of +the glaring indecorum which he had overseen; +but he knew that he was a man of few words, +with great promptitude and decision of action, +and he still encouraged the hope of seeing his +antipathy—the assistant military secretary, +most unceremoniously expelled the house in +the course of the morning.</p> + +<p>Differently, indeed, had the friendly Major +Mopes been engaged during the same period. +He had seen and conversed with George, who, +it must be admitted, elated as he was by the +wonderful piece of good-fortune which had befallen +him, indulged his playfulness of disposition +by leading the major by a very circuitous +route to the real state of the case; indeed he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</span>dexterously avoided coming to the point till he +perceived, by his worthy friend’s manner and +countenance, that he must not carry the joke +much further. When he had explained all, and, +to establish the certainty of his statement, presented +the military secretary to Ellen Adamthwaite +herself, in the character of her affianced +lover, the major’s gratification and joy were +complete.</p> + +<p>The breakfast, it must be owned, was a trial +to the principal performers. Ellen, of course, +had been informed by George of the discovery +of their parting embrace by the two staff-officers—Mopes +still thinking that Narcissus, +who was generally occupied by thoughts of +himself, had not seen equally clear with himself.</p> + +<p>The moment arrived; the general entered the +breakfast-room. Curries, rice, Bombay ducks, +Java red fish, eggs, European ham, hump +and kabobs, were thickly intermingled with +grapes, strawberries, mangoes, and plantains. +The grateful fumes of coffee filled the atmosphere; +and the tea, unchilled by the waving +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span>Punkah, sparkled in its cups. Ellen took her +seat with downcast eyes, after having received +a certain number of paternal kisses from his +Excellency; and Captain Narcissus Fripps, +after having shaken hands with George Brown, +deposited himself at the end of the table, directly +opposite the gallant yet melancholy Mopes, +major and military secretary.</p> + +<p>As the meal proceeded, Fripps could not +help noticing certain looks which were passing +between his four companions, especially as even +the countenance of the major was every now +and then illuminated by a cursory expression +more nearly approaching to a smile than he +had ever seen them before. The General looked +at George; George looked at Ellen; and +Ellen, affecting to repress his intelligent glances +by a half-comic seriousness, was blushing +crimson.</p> + +<p>Captain Narcissus Fripps began to feel exceedingly +awkward and embarrassed. It was +clear that his companions were in a confederacy, +and that he was, by general consent, +“basketed.” Very few words were spoken, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span>and nobody seemed inclined to break the silence. +Narcissus felt assured that the General +had availed himself of the first moment +after their return home to lecture his daughter +upon the dreadful impropriety which he had +witnessed; but this he could hardly reconcile +with the fact that Brown was placed next her +at table, and permitted to look and talk to her, +little or much, as suited his fancy; while the eyes +of Ellen plainly exhibited the existence of an +intelligence between them—which eyes <em>will</em> exhibit +in the just degree to which such intelligence +extends.</p> + +<p>It all at once struck the captain, that upon +a principle not unfrequently acted upon,—of +doing what in certain circles is called, “wiping +it up, and saying nothing about it,” the +General meant to take no public notice of the +event which he had communicated, but that, +instead of kicking the assistant military secretary +out of the house, he would give him some +detached appointment, which would have the +effect of removing him from his present sphere +of action, and his nomination to which, would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span>be attributed to the General’s continued and +unchanged regard for him, rather than as a +manœuvre to separate him from his daughter. +This idea the gentle Narcissus cherished; and +perfectly conscious that the embarrassment in +which they all appeared involved must have +arisen from his solicitude for the peace and honour +of the family, and coupling these effects +with the absence of all remark from the General, +touching the matter, he resolved to act upon +the same principle, assimilate his conduct to +that of Sir Cadwallader, and take the first occasion +to make him sensible of the caution he +proposed to adopt, and the course he intended +to pursue.</p> + +<p>It ought to be mentioned that Captain Fripps +was not a very great favourite with anybody at +head-quarters. The major indeed called him +“Molly Fripps,” and that too in a sad and +solemn tone; and George was quite aware that +he affected to despise <em>him</em>. The stiffness of +the breakfast-party would not of itself, therefore, +have startled him, but the character of +the stiffness of this particular morning puzzled +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span>him exceedingly; for although little was said, +so much more was looked than usual, that never +did captain more greatly rejoice than did this +of ours, when the repast was terminated by +the departure of Ellen.</p> + +<p>The young lady’s exit was shortly followed +by those of the major and George, and once +again the aide-du-camp was alone with the +General.</p> + +<p>“Well, captain,” said Sir Cadwallader, “I +suppose you think my conduct very strange.”</p> + +<p>“No, upon my honour! not, sir,” said +Fripps: “I quite appreciate it—so considerate—and +so wise—and so like your Excellency.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you approve of it,” said the +General:—“but who told you the history of +my proceedings since our return home?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! nobody told me,” said the captain; +“I would not talk about it to anybody for the +world.”</p> + +<p>“Then how have you acquired the knowledge +of what I have done, and what I propose +to do?” said his Excellency.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span></p> + +<p>“I conclude,” said Fripps, “that your Excellency +means to take no notice of what I told +you, to the parties themselves, but get rid of +Mr. Brown in some way or other, so as to prevent +the <i lang="fr">eclat</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Prevent the <i lang="fr">eclat</i> of an affair known to +two or three people!” exclaimed the General—“no, +no.”</p> + +<p>“I protest, sir,” said Fripps, “it shall never +pass my lips: I have too much regard for Miss +Adamthwaite. It would be very shocking, I +know, to let it spread; but my duty to <em>you</em>, +as well as my esteem for <em>her</em>, would keep me +silent as the tomb upon the subject.”</p> + +<p>“You need not restrain yourself, Captain +Fripps,” said Sir Cadwallader, “on <em>my</em> account +or hers.”</p> + +<p>“I know, sir,” said Fripps, “that you +have been so kind and good to Mr. Brown; +and what a shocking vice ingratitude is!—And +to think of his venturing to embrace +any young lady, and especially your daughter!”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever hear an old song that I used +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span>to sing when I was a sub.,” said the general:—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“‘My mother having heard that Colin he had kiss’d me,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Proposed to the youth that to-morrow we should wed:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To church then we went, paid the parson his fees,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And so got holy licence to kiss when we please.’”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>“Oh! dear, no,” said Fripps, shuddering, +and pawing, and making curtseying bows, “I +never heard such a song as <em>that</em> in all my +life.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it may serve to enlighten you then,” +said the General. “What if Ellen Adamthwaite +and George Brown are about to do a similar +thing—what should you say <em>then</em>?”</p> + +<p>“What!” exclaimed the captain—“you +<em>don’t</em> mean, sir,—that—”</p> + +<p>“I do mean so,” said Sir Cadwallader.</p> + +<p>“What! that delicate fair creature,” said +Fripps, in a soliloquizing tone, “to—”</p> + +<p>“—Yes, is likely very soon to become +<em>Brown</em>, Captain Fripps,” said the General.</p> + +<p>“Why, then, the discovery I made—”</p> + +<p>“Was nothing very important after all,” said +the General. “Your kindness and consideration +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span>for her and me are nevertheless equally +admirable; only if you had not gone back +to your friend Mr. Honeyman’s quarters, and +told <em>him</em> what you had seen, before you mentioned +it to <em>me</em>, our obligations perhaps would +have been somewhat greater.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I declare, Sir Cadwallader,” said +Fripps, “I only told him because I—”</p> + +<p>“Because you happened to be sure of finding +<em>him</em> up,” said the General, “and you were +not so sure of getting hold of anybody else at +that time to whom to give the interesting information.”</p> + +<p>“Oh dear, dear!—I shall never be able +to look at Miss Ellen again,” said the captain. +“I admit it was—how could you have +known it, sir?—dear me!—what a deceitful +toad Honeyman must be to have betrayed +me.”</p> + +<p>“We will not discuss the matter any further,” +said the General. “I agree with <em>you</em> +that it would be irksome for you to associate +with my daughter and her husband after what +has occurred, and therefore you have my full +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span>permission to resign your aide-du-campship, +and join your regiment. I am a plain, blunt +man, as you know, and of few words.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear Sir Cadwallader!” said Fripps, +“do not force me to leave you: everything +may be arranged, and I—”</p> + +<p>“I wish you good morning, Captain Fripps,” +said the General. “My daughter bids me decline +on <em>her</em> part a scene of leave-taking, and +will not in all probability return home until +after your departure. Brown’s name will be in +orders as aide-du-camp this afternoon; and, as +I am now allowed only one, you will see the necessity +of marching in ‘double quick.’ Good +morning.” Saying which, his Excellency retired +from the apartment, muttering humourously +to himself—</p> + +<p> + “But never more be officer of mine.” +</p> + +<p>“Well, if ever!” said Narcissus—“dear +me—this is most uncommonly unpleasant! I +declare I could scratch that nasty creature +Honeyman’s eyes out, for such a sly trick. +I’ll go to him—tax him with his conduct:—but +I am sure we shall make it up before +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span>we part; because I am quite certain he did +not mean to injure me.”</p> + +<p>And so Fripps went on murmuring to himself, +until, to his utter dismay, one of Sir Cadwallader’s +servants made his appearance with +his Excellency’s compliments—wished to know +when his “things would be ready for moving.” +This question was conclusive. The circumstance +which had occurred—the awkward position in +which he had placed himself by his tittle-tattle, +and the intentions so evidently displayed in his +conduct, all conspired to induce him to exert +himself in fulfilling his Excellency’s wish for +his speedy disappearance. His servant was +directed to make immediate preparations for +the start; and the captain himself proceeded +to Honeyman, to reproach and bid him farewell. +Their quarrel was, as the captain had +anticipated, soon reconciled; and from the door +of his dear friend’s quarters, Fripps, after eating +a tiffin of fowl-sandwiches, raspberry tarts, +and barleysugar-drops, moistened by some lemonade, +took his departure to join his regiment +at Bombay.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span></p> + +<p>It is strange how much the loss of one, to a +constant association with whom we have become +habituated, affects us. Ellen, who cared +no more for Narcissus than for any other officer +in his Majesty’s service, naval or military, +and in all human probability much less, could +not look at his vacant place at tiffin without a +feeling of regret. Perhaps this feeling, considering +the consequences his removal involved, +as far as regarded his worldly circumstances, +might have been strengthened by the recollection +that, however innocently, unconsciously +certainly, and most unintentionally, she herself +had been the cause of his ejection. Certain +it was, she was out of spirits, and George saw +she was. He could not help feeling uneasy at +the symptoms he observed, but his anxiety was +considerably relieved when he had ascertained +that his <em>friend</em> was actually gone, and saw that +Ellen, when her George filled his chair at dinner, +was as much at her ease as she could be, +knowing that the events which had occurred +during the day were most undoubtedly forming +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span>the topic of conversation at every other table +in the presidency.</p> + +<p>We must not bestow sufficient space upon +the episode of our history, to dwell at length +upon the proceedings at head-quarters until +the day of George’s marriage to Ellen was fixed. +When the matrimonial termination to their +acquaintance was announced as decided and inevitable, +the public opinion of the forty or fifty +estimable ladies and gentlemen, who formed the +public of the place, turned wonderfully in favour +of George. He was a most agreeable person—so +clever; and it was so judicious of the +General to advance merit, and consult the happiness +of his child. And at last the day came, +and they were married, and proceeded to pass +the honeymoon in the picturesque bungalow +which formed the effective foreground of Ellen’s +last East-Indian view.</p> + +<p>The happiness of this most happy pair—for so +they were—was not, however, destined to continue +long uninterrupted: a sudden attack, and +short illness, deprived them in the third month of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span>their married life of the kind-hearted, generous +parent, the founder of their fortunes and felicity. +This event, of course, decided them upon +returning to England, and induced George to +retire from the army. Having entered it, as +an officer, much too late to expect in peaceable +times promotion, even by purchase, to any +valuable extent, he yielded to the solicitations +of his Ellen, who had seen enough of military +life as a soldier’s daughter, not to desire a continuance +of it as a soldier’s wife. Her tastes,—her +pursuits,—were those of retirement and +quiet, and the blessing of being so much her +own mistress as not to be destined by a Horse-Guards’ +order to pass ten or twelve years of her +life in an East-Indian cantonment or a West-Indian +barrack, was too great to be refused. +So implicit was Sir Cadwallader’s reliance upon +George, that, at the old gentleman’s death, +he found himself, with some trifling limitations, +in the possession of property, real and +personal, to the amount of upwards of seven +thousand a-year.</p> + +<p>In this position was George Brown when he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span>returned to England; and it may easily be +imagined that the circumstances detailed in +this narrative, when related by himself to his +mother and sister upon the occasion of his +first visit to them, produced in their hearts +and minds sentiments of gratitude to Providence, +by which a course of events so propitious +to their beloved, deserving relative, had +been ordained.</p> + + +<p class="center spaced space-above small">END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.</p> + + +<p class="center spaced space-above small"> + LONDON:<br> + PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,<br> + Dorset Street, Fleet Street. +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="transnote"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> + Transcriber’s Notes + </h2> + + +<ul> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>38, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>15: Removed a redundant (double) that (<a href="#TN1">that he was a choice spirit</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>52, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>11: Removed double quotation mark at the end of the sentence (<a href="#TN2">Brag as Brag thought +of himself</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>53, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>13: Added a hyphen (<a href="#TN3">hand-in-glove</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>81, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>19: Corrected name (<a href="#TN4">Ilfracombe</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>124, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>23: Typo corrected (<a href="#TN5">to explain herself</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>160, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>13: Added a full stop (<a href="#TN6">directed to A. Z.</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>175, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>1: Typo corrected (<a href="#TN7">we were only anxious</a>).</li> + <li><abbr title="page">p.</abbr>256, <abbr title="line">l.</abbr>2 and p.261, l.10: The author (T. Hook) uses the spelling in Gilbert Gurney: <a href="#TN12">Varhandah</a>.</li> + <li>Throughout the text: keeping <a href="#TN13">aide-du-camp</a> even though it seems wrong.</li> + <li>Except as noted above, original spelling and punctuation have been retained.</li> +</ul> +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78686 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78686-h/images/cover.jpg b/78686-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c309c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/78686-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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