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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78690 ***
+
+
+
+
+                                 THE
+
+                              CONTRAST,
+
+              BY THE AUTHOR OF “MATILDA,” “YES AND NO,”
+                               &c. &c.
+
+
+              Take but degree away--untune that string,
+              And hark! what discord follows.
+                                             SHAKSPEARE.
+
+
+                          IN THREE VOLUMES.
+
+                              VOL. III.
+
+
+                               LONDON:
+
+                  HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,
+                        NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
+
+                                1832.
+
+
+
+
+                            THE CONTRAST.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER I.
+
+    Thou art in London, in that pleasant place
+    Where every kind of mischief’s daily brewing,
+    Which can await warm youth in its wild race.
+                                                BYRON.
+
+    She gazed upon a world she scarcely knew,
+    As seeking not to know it.
+                                          SILENT LOVE.
+
+
+Is there one--the veriest citizen of the world though he may be--who
+has not felt a sudden chill seize upon his energies, a blight fall
+as it were upon his faculties, when in the varied changes of his
+chequered life, he has found himself amid scenes to which he alone
+is strange, whilst all around are, as it were, “to the manner born?”
+The sense of inferiority can take no more painful shape than the
+impossibility of entering into sources of enjoyment, which seem
+open to every one else. This impression can only occasionally and
+incidentally afflict the man of the world, its repetition is evaded
+by shunning the unusual society which caused it, or quitting those
+foreign sojourning places where it was found. He therefore could
+have no idea of the oppressive sensation of hopeless solitude
+which overpowered Lucy when she first found herself dropped in the
+midst of the ever busy crowds of London. Your true cockney is apt
+to speculate, with no little self satisfaction, upon the first
+impression that the largest city in the world must make upon that
+foreigner who has only seen Paris or Petersburgh, or that countryman
+who has only visited Bath or York; but how could he estimate the
+bewilderment of her who had never, till within a short time, strayed
+from the solitary shores of Morden Bay? Country girls have no
+doubt constantly before come up to London, without any previous
+preparation; but then their impressions have been limited by their
+own straitened circumstances, and their individual cares for the
+coming day have much confined the effects produced on them by the
+surrounding grandeur; and the smallness of their own share of the
+comforts which they beheld, has limited their admiration of the
+marvellous variety which was to be divided among others. On the other
+hand, the strange conviction on Lucy’s mind, that she would now
+have as large an individual command as any one, of all the varied
+luxuries which on all sides bewildered her sight, gave her a painful
+consciousness of her own littleness.
+
+For nearly seven miles of suburb, she had been expecting to stop at
+every door she passed, thinking it quite impossible the town could
+extend any farther. A curious inquiry it would be, and probably
+puzzling to more experienced investigators than Lucy, who live in
+those houses, which are perpetually building in most out-of-the
+way districts? Are the houses built for the inhabitants, or the
+inhabitants fitted to the houses?
+
+The carriage at length stopped at Lord Castleton’s door, which was
+in one of the _soi-disant_ fashionable squares in the west end of
+London. It was still very early in a London spring morning, that is,
+it was not above two hours after noon, and Castleton determined to go
+out, to collect new gossip from old acquaintance at the clubs, and
+Lucy was left alone; and she felt as if she was the first person in
+the world who had ever known the most extended signification of that
+word _alone_.
+
+The _soignée salon_ in which she had been left, opened, behind its
+muslin draperies, upon a balcony and veranda, filled with rare
+and sweet plants, and from thence she looked forth upon the scene
+beyond, having first stepped out merely to catch the last glimpse
+of Castleton as he turned the corner. By one used to the more busy
+parts of the metropolis, it would have been styled a quiet situation;
+but to Lucy it appeared as if some great event must have collected
+an unusual crowd. And there they all hurry on, she thought, whether
+on business or pleasure, sent by one person seeking another. And I,
+perhaps, of all this moving crowd, am the only creature who knows no
+one, and for whom no one cares. Castleton has gone forth, and however
+surprised, there is no one of whom I can ask a question; however
+pleased, no one to whom I can express my admiration: and whatever may
+be the destination of all these ever-moving busy ants below, the only
+thing certain is, that their pursuits have no connexion whatever with
+me. She envied even the dustman, who through the iron rail of the
+area, shook the hand that declined his call. She thought even the old
+clothesman looked with an eye of interest on all he passed. She would
+have liked to have participated in the anxious care of the nervous
+nursery maid, in convoying her unruly six sail over a dangerous
+crossing. As the day advanced, she marked with equal certainty
+that she could have no interest in their motions; the thundering
+notification of the stately coach, which all ended in depositing an
+empty card, and the stealthy approach of the gliding _cab_, which
+neared the flags, and dropped a more interesting billet, just where a
+fair expectant hand awaited it, either for herself or mistress.--Each
+succeeding incident, of which she was an unobserved spectator, only
+increased her sense of loneliness. Her attention was, at length,
+particularly attracted to a gay cavalcade of ladies and gentlemen
+who were making the circuit from the other side of the square.
+There were in all three ladies, and a superabundant attendance of
+cavaliers. But Lucy’s eye was fixed on the lady who rode first,
+between two gentlemen, her horse indicating that sort of becoming
+impatience which excites fear for a bad horse-woman, and admiration
+of a good one. But to Lucy it looked very tremendous, till, upon
+nearer approach, she observed that so far from being alarmed, she
+was talking gaily, and laughing merrily. Her head was turned towards
+the gentleman nearest Lucy, whilst her other companion was anxiously
+appearing to be amused with what she was saying.
+
+As they came under the balcony, Lucy clapped her hands with delight,
+saying to herself, “O, dear, I’m so happy there is somebody I do
+know; that’s the kind lady of Hornscliff Abbey.”
+
+It was impossible, indeed, for any one who had once seen Lady Gayland
+to be mistaken. Though the expression of her countenance was now as
+different from that which, when Lucy had last beheld her, beamed with
+sympathy on her distresses, as the costume which she now wore, or the
+occasion on which she was seen. In passing, even whilst continuing
+the conversation, without elevating her head, she raised her eyes to
+the balcony on which Lucy was standing. Lucy conceived she must have
+heard her, but, perhaps, entirely unconnected with her, Lady Gayland
+had her own motives for casting one transient glance unobserved
+in that direction. Lucy, though, thought otherwise, and hastily
+withdrew, imagining that the only impression which her presence there
+could cause, on the lady’s mind must be, “What can Lucy Darnell be
+doing in that fine house?”
+
+Lucy would hardly have been able to account for her never having
+mentioned to Castleton her interview with the Lady of Hornscliff
+Abbey; but, perhaps, one reason was, that not till some time after
+that event did she see him again. And though she would not have
+thought of premeditated concealment from him of any important point,
+they had never been upon those terms of easy equality which could
+have induced her to volunteer confidence. Latterly, too, she had
+observed so much uneasiness and impatience on his part, at any casual
+mention of circumstances connected either with the trial or smuggling
+transactions, that the fear of annoying him, coupled with her
+ignorance of the lady’s name, which left her indeed little to tell,
+prevented her, upon his return, from making any mention of the person
+she had observed from the window.
+
+Castleton came home in high spirits; he had been much pleased with
+the cordial manner in which his re-appearance had been greeted by
+all his old acquaintances. It is a pleasing illusion which, on such
+an occasion, makes a man appropriate, as indicating a clear sense of
+his own merits, those manifestations of delight at his re-appearance,
+which have oftener no other foundation than the ebullitions of
+selfish satisfaction, at any break or change in the wearisome
+monotony of a life of pleasure.
+
+But Castleton was too popular a man for him not to be justified
+in attributing to more flattering motives much of the warmth of
+his welcome. It was astonishing the deference that was paid to his
+opinion upon all matters connected with the arts, literature, or
+politics, considering that he had never exerted his own talents
+directly in any of these different departments. But perhaps for this
+very reason, as he never even drew except that once at Morden Bay,
+which was certainly not with a view to extended fame, or wrote,
+or spoke himself at all, and was equally devoid of any pretensions
+of his own, as either artist, author, or orator, he was the more
+readily allowed to decide upon those of others; more particularly
+as his manner of conveying his opinions was as mild as the opinions
+themselves were valuable. And having established amongst his
+acquaintance universally, a character as arbiter of taste, he was not
+a little anxious how far that character might be confirmed by the
+estimate of his conduct in so important a point as the choice of a
+wife; about which he had his own misgivings. The fact is, that in no
+point had Castleton more deceived himself than in not perceiving that
+that very over refinement in scrutinizing the motives and opinions
+of others, which had made him suspect interested inconsistencies in
+all women in his own rank in life, would, taking only another shape,
+make him even more conscious than another would have been of the
+inevitable incongruities of his present partner with that rank of
+life to which he had raised her. One of a less morbidly critical
+taste, less disposed to analyze below the surface, would have been
+satisfied with that favourable impression which beauty and grace
+in perfection could not fail to make in the first instance. But he
+already began to fear that those mental deficiencies, which he had,
+indeed, but lately discovered himself, must at first sight be obvious
+to every one else. Still, uncomfortable, indeed, must have been the
+forebodings which could not have been chased away, at least for the
+time, by the look of confiding devotion with which she received
+him upon his return. His first care was to make her, as far as he
+could, comfortable in her new habitation. But a sense of comfort is
+not a feeling which can at once be transfused, with the will of him
+who wishes it. Comfort is so closely connected with habit, that
+many things which to others would have contributed to confer it,
+were to Lucy, from their strangeness, only additional sources of
+embarrassment.
+
+His next anxiety was as to her first introduction into society, or
+what is called the world. He was right in thinking that upon this
+occasion much depended upon that first impression; but he was wrong
+in doubting that in Lucy’s case, the probabilities were much in
+favour of that being advantageous. In London, provided a person is
+positively pretty and new, their other qualities may be negative;
+and as long as they are not obtrusively either awkward or silly,
+they may pass muster very well, at least for a time. People have
+not either the leisure or the inclination to pick out peccadilloes
+in deportment, which they have in a country neighbourhood. If the
+same persons were not exposed one half the year to the really severe
+ordeal of the one, they would not be so very sensitive in the other.
+In the London season, all the little social rubs to which all are
+in turn subject, arise much more from an over estimate of their own
+importance, than from any intentional depreciation of it on the part
+of their associates. It is to the failure of attempts to be what they
+are not, rather than to any dispute as to conceding what they are,
+that self-inflicted mortifications may be traced. Those who keep one
+foot within reach of firm ground, will never get much of a tumble, in
+climbing the ladder of fashion.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER II.
+
+    Then dress, then dinner, then awakes the world!
+      Then glare the lamps, then whirl the wheels, then roar
+    Through street and square fast flashing chariots hurl’d
+      Like harnessed meteors; then along the floor
+    Chalk mimics painting; then festoons are twirled;
+      Then roll the brazen thunders of the door,
+    Which opens to a thousand happy few,
+    An earthly paradise of “Or Molu.”
+                                                      BYRON.
+
+
+Lord Castleton changed his mind very often as to the best preparatory
+introduction for Lucy to a few select friends. He was convinced that
+before she was launched into the great world, he ought to provide
+her with some female companion, under whose auspices she might then
+make her appearance. For though it might look merely loving and
+interesting for a bride to appear leaning on her husband’s arm,
+in that society to which they had both been previously known; yet
+where she was a stranger, like needlessly backing a bill, it might
+excite a suspicion as to her being able to stand alone, without his
+name being thus attached, or his hand thus put to insure her not
+being discredited. His first intention was to have invited a small
+party to dinner at his own house. But though this would have insured
+him the absolute selection of all the individuals to whom Lucy
+was, in the first instance, to have been introduced; on the other
+hand, the active duties of a hostess, perhaps in her idea so much
+more active than he would have thought necessary, were more than he
+wished to entail upon her in her probationary trial. Then, as to
+the lady to whom he was to apply as a sort of _chaperon_ for his
+inexperienced bride, his thoughts first turned to Lady Gayland; a
+direction in which, as I am afraid it must be acknowledged, they did
+turn oftener than he would have chosen to admit. Yet he had a great
+disinclination to exposing at once to her acute perception any little
+foibles or deficiencies on Lucy’s part, though he knew that the mere
+circumstance of any one requiring her assistance, would have disposed
+her to view them in the most favourable light. Yet there were many
+little traits of ignorance on Lucy’s part which he was labouring
+hard to correct, and which he hoped might yet be completely removed,
+without Lady Gayland’s ever being conscious of them. There were also
+circumstances of misconception, if not of misunderstanding, connected
+with his last parting with that lady at Naples, which prevented his
+feeling authorized in abruptly asking of her a favour.
+
+The difficulties, both with respect to when the introductory dinner
+was to be given, and the person by whom Lucy was to be _chaperoned_,
+were removed at the same time, by his accidentally meeting a cousin
+of his, Mrs. Tudor, who at once occurred to him as admirably suited
+to both purposes. She was indeed an excellent woman--Mrs. Tudor.
+Every one admitted it, no one could deny it. Faultless as she was
+herself, faultless was her society--faultless were her dinners.
+
+Now why is it, that in this wicked world every one of my readers have
+associated an idea of insipidity with the description I have just
+given? There were no words used which seemed at all to make such
+an interpretation necessary, yet in this particular instance it is
+certainly the right one. Every thing connected with Mrs. Tudor was
+essentially insipid. Perhaps when an excellent woman is married to a
+good kind of man, and such was Tudor, it is too much. It gives one
+the fidgets at once. But excellent women, particularly if they happen
+to have house and fortune in proportion to their good qualities, are
+very apt to have very extensive and very eligible acquaintance; and
+Castleton could not possibly have made a happier choice of the person
+who was to smooth the first entrance of Lucy into her new career.
+
+Mrs. Tudor was pleased at the extent of the confidence reposed in
+her, which Castleton limited to informing her, that his bride was a
+young person who had been educated in retirement, and consequently
+was not at all prepared for all the ways of the great world. And
+though activity was not any part of Mrs. Tudor’s excellence, yet this
+was just the sort of quiet exertion which only made her fancy herself
+occupied. She immediately fixed an early day for the Castleton’s
+to dine with her. Do not let the reader be alarmed with the idea,
+that that day is going to be made the subject of minute description.
+Suffice it to say, that good nature had, in this instance, its own
+reward, in pleasing those whom it was intended to gratify. Faultless
+was the dinner, faultless were the guests invited, and faultless,
+with pleasure let us add, was Lucy’s deportment during the whole of
+that day. Anxious as she had already become as to the impression
+which her conduct in these different circumstances should make
+upon Castleton, she was on this occasion re-assured by the kind
+consideration with which she was treated by all, and therefore bore
+her part without discredit or remark on those ordinary topics from
+which the conversation never soared.
+
+From Castleton’s lavish praises of her as they returned home in the
+carriage, she felt as if she must have done wonders, and therefore
+looked forward without much dread, to the engagement she had made
+with Mrs. Tudor, to accompany her the following night to Lady
+Delacour’s ball.
+
+That style of beauty which is defined as the beauty of innocence,
+is sometimes supposed to be but little improved by dress; but such
+was not the opinion portrayed in the gratified expression of Lord
+Castleton’s countenance, when he witnessed the successful result of
+his wife’s toilet on the succeeding evening: for he thought he never
+saw her look one half so well--which judgment she read at once in
+his looks, and felt repaid for all she had gone through. The whole
+affair had been to her a most painful infliction. She had been in
+turns a victim in the hands of the milliner, the hair-dresser, and
+her own maid, each of whose successive operations she had at the time
+thought to be never ending. She bore the sufferings of a martyr with
+the patience of a saint. But as Castleton, having first sent the
+landau for the Tudors, that they might go together, in handing her
+into it, cast one more approving glance by the hall lamp, and pressed
+her hand encouragingly, she felt as if she was utterly indifferent
+as to what any one else thought of her. And though her diffidence
+so far returned, upon hearing her name shouted from hall to
+landing-place, and doorway to doorway, as to make an “O pray don’t”
+half pass her lips, addressed in a supplicatory tone to a peculiarly
+stentorian callman; yet upon entering the rooms, her admiration at
+the brilliancy of a scene so much beyond what she had previously
+conceived possible, gave to her countenance a subdued expression of
+enjoyment struggling with embarrassment, which to her style of beauty
+was peculiarly becoming.
+
+As she proceeded, under Mrs. Tudor’s arm, Castleton soon got
+separated from her by the crowd of acquaintances, who at that moment
+seemed to have no other object there than to welcome him back to
+London. After this had a little subsided, whilst jostled by that most
+fidgetting, unquiet, unaccommodating of all mobs, the hat-tugging,
+gown-tearing mob of fashion, he was of course subject occasionally to
+hear remarks which were not meant to meet his ear, but none as yet,
+which were not on the whole rather flattering than not. “Who is that
+pretty _new_ girl with Mrs. Tudor?” “Where’s the _new_ beauty--have
+you seen her?” “Who is that _new_ woman every body is raving about?”
+It is true, in all these encomiums, the emphasis was on the word
+_new_, as if that was the great attraction; but at the same time,
+this, which seemed to imply most in itself, was always coupled with
+some favourable adjuncts.
+
+After a little, when it became more generally known who she was, he
+observed that his vicinity often caused some half-vented exclamation
+or inquiry to be checked by the nudge of a neighbouring elbow; but
+even then this appeared to be more from the opinion being rather free
+and familiar in its expression, than unfavourable in its nature.
+He thought it as well to avoid as much as possible the running
+any more risks of this kind, and therefore, making his way out of
+that apartment where the crowd was thickest, he came unexpectedly
+in the next upon a select circle of admiring listeners, of which
+Lady Gayland was the centre of attraction. Their eyes met at the
+same instant; one moment she paused, though in the very agony of
+a half-finished _bon mot_. She hesitated one moment more, then
+stretched out her hand to him, saying, “How is Lady Castleton? Is she
+here?”
+
+Mumbling his reply to this, from her, unexpected question, he passed
+on. She renewed her sentence, but somehow omitted its point. Her
+hearers were much disappointed thereat, though some who listened
+were not aware of the fact. Amongst them was a foreign nobleman, to
+whom our old acquaintance, Peter Spencer, much to her annoyance,
+was showing off Lady Gayland, as a sort of literary lioness. The
+Count Finale was a gentlemanlike, inoffensive man, who had been
+much puzzled, upon first coming to this country, which of the two
+alternatives, offered to every foreigner, he had better select,--the
+could and would speak English line, or not. This is a very awkward
+choice to make, and there are so many disadvantages both ways, that
+it is really difficult to know which to recommend. All foreigners
+now, after a manner, speak English, and few like to do it, but they
+must profess both or neither, in the first case they are much more
+generally well received, but get much less separate attention. They
+have more acquaintance but less society; for it is impossible that
+they can for some time make out the clipped, slovenly colloquy, in
+which so much the greater part of common conversation passes current.
+But the Count Finale had at length taken upon himself the alternative
+of assumed knowledge, the consequence of which was, that he was at
+the present moment in the most disagreeable situation for a gallant
+man, that of appearing to be more amused than he really was with a
+beautiful woman; for Lady Gayland’s thoughts flowed in much too rapid
+sketches for him to be able to follow them.
+
+“You are not aware, my dear Count,” said Peter Spencer, “that Lady
+Gayland is a dweller on Parnassus--that she makes up an even _half
+score_ with the _Nine_; indeed, there’s hardly a _muse_ whose
+department she might not double with advantage, upon occasion.”
+
+The habitual inattention which she always extended to every saying of
+Peter Spencer’s, might account for her taking no notice whatever of
+this pretty speech, without its being necessary to suppose that her
+thoughts were just then straying after that mental will-o’-the-wisp,
+the memory of by-gone visions. But Sir North Saunders, who was
+standing by, was determined not to let the conversation drop,
+therefore continued--
+
+“Seen Lady Gayland’s last little work--eh! Count?”
+
+“O pray, Sir North, don’t talk of one’s _work_, it sounds so
+mechanical--savours much more of the tambour frame than the printing
+press. Besides, work was a very appropriate description, when the
+brain was distilled by midnight oil in a lonely garret. But now the
+stud of letters is as light as the lives of the authors, who first
+_amuse_ themselves, as the best way of _amusing_ their readers.
+Formerly even _plays_ were _works_, but now any _work_ is but _play_.
+Besides, from the days of Byron downwards, if an author has passions
+he puts them into poetry--if foibles, he owns them with only the
+additional lackering of some imaginary merit, confesses himself
+grand but faulty--doubly gratifies his vanity, by being himself his
+own theme--puts but a little gilt paper upon the blackest parts of
+his character, and, in this May day finery, presents himself to an
+admiring world.”
+
+Lord Castleton, who had been hovering near, again approached, time
+enough to catch most of the last speech, and said more to the speaker
+herself, than those whom she had been addressing,
+
+“Heaven forefend that I should ever take pen in hand; but if I did,
+it would be to use myself as a warning, not a model. It would be
+from the reverse of my own sentiments I should expect sympathy--from
+a contrast to my own conduct I should promise happiness.”
+
+Lady Gayland cast one penetrating glance upon him, as if wishing
+to detect whether there was any particular meaning attached to so
+extraordinary an avowal; and then saying, “And this from a newly
+married man too, _che vergogna_,” she passed on.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER III.
+
+    Methinks I play as I have seen them
+    In Whitsun past’rals: sure this robe of mine
+    Does change my disposition.
+
+    We are come to this great stage of fools--
+    Wilt stay and see the revellers?
+                                                SHAKSPEARE.
+
+
+Lucy had been very much admired by all to whom Mrs. Tudor had
+introduced her. A sweet smile, gentle manners, and the absence of
+any kind of pretension, are quite enough to be supposed agreeable,
+as well as attractive, by new acquaintances, in a mixed crowd. She
+was quite equal to reciprocating comments upon the merits of the
+fête, with those who, after presentation, hazarded two or three
+commonplace sentences; and if she did use an out-of-the-way phrase
+upon such an occasion, it was only reckoned original. Whilst thus
+occupied, she observed her kind friend of Hornscliff Abbey intently
+gazing on her, who, as soon as she saw that she was remarked,
+advanced towards Mrs. Tudor, and begged to be presented to Lady
+Castleton. Lucy was first puzzled at her former friend thinking
+it necessary to go through that ceremony, and to treat her as a
+stranger; but when Mrs. Tudor turned away to speak to some one,
+Lady Gayland said in somewhat an under tone, “Forgive me, dear Lady
+Castleton, if I suggest to you that, considering the circumstances
+under which we last met, it should not be known that we ever did meet
+before. It sounds odd advice; but I should particularly recommend
+that Lord Castleton should not know it. He is so very old an
+acquaintance of mine, that I think he will be better pleased in not
+knowing that I am also an old acquaintance of yours. But to prove
+to you that I consider myself as such, will you take a turn with me
+whilst Mrs. Tudor there is curing the cholera? You will see much
+more, by changing the pair of eyes by which you are shown all this
+phantasmagoria.” So saying, she linked her arm in Lucy’s, and they
+paraded through the suite of rooms.
+
+As they passed along, the flattering admiration of the surrounding
+throng was equally lost on both, though the sensations which produced
+that disregard were widely dissimilar. In one it arose from simple
+unconsciousness of the effect she produced, in the other from mere
+dislike at the open demonstration of that which she felt nevertheless
+to be her due.
+
+“My dear Lady Castleton,” said her companion; “I have no doubt you
+feel very strange in this unknown crowd.”
+
+“O I do indeed! and if you only knew how delightful it is to find
+myself talking with one, who I know, from experience, would on
+occasion be so kind to me:” and she clung more closely to Lady
+Gayland’s arm as she said it.
+
+“Yes, but I am afraid that if here no one was to talk, except with
+those whom they knew, if occasion served, would be kind to them, that
+it would rather resemble the Temple of Silence, than the Babel it now
+is. If I could only label these moving figures for your instruction,
+you would be astonished how soon you would get to know as much of
+them, as many who have for years what is called _lived_ in their set.
+From a little observation, you would be able to detect whether they
+had neglected their dentist, enriched their milliner, or cashiered
+their _coiffeur_; and that is about the whole knowledge which their
+friends, called intimate, have collected concerning them. This is
+called by some a mere marriage mart; that is, however, only one
+department in the bazaar of fashion; but the whole is, after all, but
+a sort of face-fair--a show of bipeds; and the stock know about as
+much of each other, as bullocks would from standing next stall.”
+
+“But surely you, Lady Gayland, are an exception; ever since I have
+been with you, you have spoken to so many people as if you knew them
+so well; and not one but has seemed to long to linger with you, had
+you not passed on.”
+
+“Why I, to be sure, upon the principle that lookers on see most of
+the game--I, who, having no husband, have not either to watch or
+be watched, and have, likewise, no daughter to mind, or mother to
+mind me, I am let a little behind the scenes, which only lets me
+a thousand times more into the secret of the advantages of your
+present position, as an unseen _debutante_. Why any mother in the
+room would think her daughter’s fortune certain, and would begin to
+criticise incumbrances in any offer beneath a dukedom, who had had
+half the pretty things said of her, that have this night been said of
+you; but that could only be the first night. No one knows so well as
+chaperon chapwomen the converse of the French proverb, _Marchandise
+que plait, est à moitié vendue_. But I forget; perhaps you do not
+understand French,” added she kindly.
+
+“No, indeed! I do not at all,” said Lucy, “though Castleton don’t
+like me to say so.” Adding this domestic explanation in a tone which
+perfectly conveyed to her auditress, “Though I have volunteered the
+confession, do not betray me to him.”
+
+“It is my fault for expressing myself in speckled language. It is
+a great fault, I own. A foreign phrase, like a piebald horse, has
+nothing to excuse the oddity of its use, but its being faultless and
+perfect in its form, and peculiarly adapted to the purpose to which
+it is applied. But see! here comes an old acquaintance of yours, Sir
+North Saunders; never mind, do not fear his recognizing you, for he
+moves about in a perpetual halo of selfishness, which prevents his
+clearly distinguishing what does not concern himself.”
+
+As she finished this piece of advice to Lucy, Sir North approached
+Lady Gayland, and addressed her.
+
+“Permit--in offering, as usual, adoration at my accustomed
+shrine,--may be allowed to add farther offerings at the side altar
+that now distracts my devotion. Will you present me to our friend’s
+beautiful bride, Lady Castleton?”
+
+“Sir North Saunders, as the most gallant of men, is naturally
+anxious to make the acquaintance of his friend’s beautiful bride.
+Lord Castleton is his friend--you are the beautiful bride. Lady
+Castleton--Sir North Saunders! Sir North Saunders--Lady Castleton.
+There, that’s quite in order, is not it? And now permit the neglected
+shrine to move itself out of the renegade’s way.” And she took Lady
+Castleton’s other arm, which brought Lucy next to Sir North, who
+addressed her,
+
+“Never more thoroughly convinced of the pre-eminence of Castleton’s
+universally acknowledged taste.”
+
+A formal curvature of his short fat figure was meant to complete the
+compliment inferred in this half finished sentence; but Lucy only
+looked confused and uneasy, as she could not yet persuade herself
+that those little grey eyes, which she had last seen fixed on her,
+with all the assumed appearance of intense scrutiny, could so soon
+have ceased to reflect any trace of her identity. Sir North therefore
+continued--
+
+“Earliest friend--flatter myself, of Castleton.--Came of age as
+Horncliffe--arrived at years of discretion--rather _volage_ in
+those days. You ladies never like your husbands the worse for that,
+in the preterpluperfect time. Hope to have the pleasure of seeing
+you at Hornscliff Abbey. Your friend, Lady Gayland, behaved very
+shabbily,--actually run away--second day--mus’n’t do that.”
+
+“My dear Sir North, you know I was obliged, and couldn’t help myself;
+but I assure you, Lady Castleton, you’ll find Sir North sometimes
+tyrannical in the extent to which he pushes hospitality. Do you know,
+now, if he thought there was any chance of your making your escape,
+I shouldn’t wonder if he was actually to lock you up. Only think of
+that--lock you up,--yes, positively keep you under lock and key!”
+
+“Really, my dear Lady, that is rather a worn-out attack upon me.
+However, it is, to be sure, perfectly new to Lady Castleton. You
+don’t know, perhaps, that this joke originated in Lady Gayland’s
+having taken a prodigious fancy to the society of a pretty vagrant,
+brought up before me as a disorderly person. Poz--believe she left
+Hornscliff, because I wouldn’t ask the fair tramper to my table.”
+
+“Come, Sir North, you had better say no more on that subject,” said
+Lady Gayland, seeing it distressed Lucy. “I can assure you Lady
+Castleton won’t think the better of you for it.”
+
+“Scrupulously avoid any unfavourable impression in such a
+quarter.--Hope to be able to convince you that Hornscliff is not such
+a dungeon. Not much used, apparently, to the hardships of rural
+routine. No fear of being exposed to the fatigues of sight-seeing
+at Hornscliff,--never be required to pound along in clogs. Confine
+yourself, if you like, to the thirty-yard terrace, along which Mrs.
+Macangle used once, before dusk, to glide, in green satin slippers,
+to match its velvety surface.”
+
+“I’ll tell you what, though, Sir North,” said Lady Gayland, “if I had
+staid at Hornscliff Abbey, I should have voted your terrace _flat_ as
+well as level. A country morning ought to be as varied as a London
+evening; though the monotony of the first half of the day here, and
+the latter there, is unavoidable.
+
+“Always ready to adapt myself to the taste of my guests. Once,--years
+ago, when your husband was a very young man, Lady Castleton, I
+remember we did make a most extraordinary expedition to a strange
+out-of-the-way place, called Morden Bay. But if Castleton ever
+mentioned the circumstance, I dare say his recollection was not of
+the distance being so formidable, for he was in love then.”
+
+“In love!” thought Lucy. “Was his early partiality for me, then,
+already suspected?”
+
+“Don’t be alarmed, Lady Castleton. She of whom I speak,” continued
+Sir North, “could never have been your rival, even if she had been
+your contemporary; but hers was the reign of another generation. Poor
+Lady Madelina Manfred! Castleton was her last conquest--certainly
+made the most of him while it lasted. Ah, Castleton, just in time to
+prevent the exposure of your past peccadilloes to your wife.”
+
+Castleton gave him an inquiring stare, which seemed to say, “I do
+think you very impertinent, but I won’t tell you so for fear of
+provoking a continuance of the same:” and then turning to Lady
+Gayland, said earnestly, “I cannot tell you how kind I think it of
+_you_ to have taken such care of my inexperienced _debutante_.”
+
+There was a slight emphasis on the words “_of you_,” which might
+imply that it was what he had no reason to expect of her in
+particular; but if such was its signification, Lady Gayland took no
+notice of it, only replying, “I have been endeavouring to persuade
+Lady Castleton to accompany me to my box at the opera tomorrow night;
+she says she has never been there.”
+
+Castleton would have found it difficult to separate the notions, or
+to analyze the feelings, which induced him so readily to accept this
+offer of Lady Gayland’s. And it was thus they separated the first
+night of their renewed acquaintance, after a long interval, and under
+much altered circumstances. Castleton was in spirits during the
+return homewards; and as soon as they had deposited the Tudors, and
+he was left alone with Lucy, delighted her with his praises of her
+deportment during the whole evening, saying, “I am sure you must have
+been all I could have wished, to have pleased Lady Gayland.”
+
+“Well, I am sure,” said Lucy, “she is the person next to yourself
+whose good opinion I should most wish to gain.”
+
+But in spite of this, which was indeed the utterance of her real
+feelings towards that lady, Lucy was not quite contented with
+herself, or with that society which had produced such a feeling of
+self-dissatisfaction on her part. It would have been inconvenient,
+considering Castleton’s dislike to such a discovery, to have been
+recognized by Sir North; but it is never very welcome to a young and
+pretty woman to have been so soon and so completely forgotten, even
+by Sir North Saunders, particularly as the terms in which alone her
+other self had been mentioned were so little flattering. She could
+not but remember that she was still the same person; that it was no
+difference either in her character or identity, but merely the act of
+another, which caused her to be now so differently considered in that
+society to which he had raised her.
+
+But the part which hurt her most was the new version which had that
+night been given by Sir North, to the attraction which rendered
+interesting to Castleton his former visit to Morden Bay.
+
+Lucy’s diffidence as to her own merits and unlimited sense of
+Castleton’s superiority, had often made her wonder why, courted as
+she saw he still was, admired as she believed he must always have
+been, he should nevertheless have diverged from his natural sphere
+of triumph on purpose to win her from her remote seclusion. Yet with
+all her modest astonishment that such should have been the case, she
+still clung to the idea that at dear Morden Bay, at least, she was
+supreme, that there “her reign there was none to dispute;” and of
+all the splendid gifts with which he had presented her since their
+marriage, there was none in her eyes which had half the value of
+the little French watch given on the occasion of that first visit
+to Morden Bay, and to which she always referred with pleasure, as
+proving the consistency and permanence of his attachment, whenever
+a painful sensation of inferiority made her almost question its
+possibility.
+
+The idea, therefore, started by Sir North, that at that time it was
+the company of another which alone made the expedition to Morden Bay
+tolerable to him, was most annoying to Lucy. She longed to question
+her husband on the subject, but dared not.
+
+This was an unfortunate effect of the timidity which rather
+increased towards him, the longer they continued to live together,
+without establishing any habits of confidence between them, which,
+though most indulgent to her in every other respect, Castleton
+never encouraged, from feeling a growing distrust of the power of
+her intellect to reciprocate confidential communications. Had she
+happily ventured to mention what Sir North had hinted to her, of the
+companion he had had tacked to him at the time of that expedition,
+Lucy would have found with pleasure, that nothing had so much
+contributed to the cure of the sickly delusion under which Castleton
+was then labouring, as the first sight of herself on the shore of
+Morden Bay.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER IV.
+
+            She, ’midst the gay world’s hum,
+    Was the queen-bee--the glass of all that’s fair;
+    Whose charms made all men speak, and women dumb--
+    The last’s a miracle.
+                                                 BYRON.
+
+    That strain again--It had a dying fall;
+    O it came o’er my ear like the sweet south
+    That breathes upon a bank of violets,
+    Stealing and giving odour. Enough--no more--
+    ’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
+                                            SHAKSPEARE.
+
+
+It so happened that the Italian Opera was the first scenic exhibition
+of any description at which Lucy had ever been present. If such
+amusements had been of easier attainment from Bankside Farm, Mrs.
+Darnell would have thought a play-bill only a synonymous term for
+a sure pass to perdition. Alice Darnell, it is true, through all
+her sorrows, had always retained a lingering partiality for a
+“metior,” in which she had during her short career been so eminently
+successful; and she often took pleasure in attempting to explain to
+her little niece, whilst reading parts of Shakspeare, the effect
+that might be produced by the impersonation of the characters by
+different actors; but still, no previous description can give to a
+person who has never witnessed it, any adequate idea of the power of
+perfect dramatic representation. Lucy would have been much astonished
+if taken for the first time to one of our great national theatres,
+where she would at least have understood the language, and made out
+the intentions of the performers. But Castleton was, except upon
+extraordinary occasions, a creature of habit. Winter was past--spring
+was already advanced. As Covent Garden market comes into season,
+Covent Garden Theatre goes out, and Lucy was taken for the first
+time, to the Italian Opera; and to the effect of novelty which
+any thing of the kind would have produced on her, were added the
+perfectly unintelligible incongruities of that style of performance.
+
+Perhaps when given in perfection, there is no description of scenic
+representation which opens a more varied source of enjoyment to an
+habitual frequenter of theatres. But then the rudiments of dramatic
+representation must have been first understood. The merits of an
+accurate imitation of nature must not only first have been tasted,
+but the pleasure derived from that pure source, must in some measure
+have been exhausted, before the graft of song upon incident and
+character, could be relished.
+
+There is, perhaps, nothing yet produced by the progress of
+civilization, so thoroughly artificial as an Italian opera; and to a
+child of nature like Lucy, it may be imagined, that much that night
+was perfectly incomprehensible. As long as deadly defiance is hurled
+in the most perfect concord--voices ringing in harmony, whilst swords
+are brandishing in enmity--the crisis of fate consumed in repeating,
+some hundred times, some Italian paraphrase of “I cannot stay, I
+must away,” which practical performance of an alleged impossibility,
+is probably encored--the most confidential communications of the
+most disordered despair given over the lamps in the most elaborate
+_roulades_, whilst four-and-twenty old maids all in a row, repeat
+together at stated intervals “Poor thing! Poor thing--how very
+much we all pity you!”--whilst thus upon every occasion sense is
+sacrificed to sound, it would appear that assumption of character
+must be a mere mockery. Yet this is far from being the case. In
+losing the verisimility of nature, the unity of effect as a whole is
+of course destroyed; yet so powerful is the additional impulse given
+to the excited senses, by the aid of appropriate music adapted to the
+action portrayed, that perhaps much the most brilliant movements of
+the mimic art have been of late years on the Italian boards. And the
+night in question was rich in examples of that description, for the
+opera was Semiramide, and the finest living actress of the world, the
+splendid Pasta, was the heroine.
+
+Lady Gayland’s box was upon the pit tier, more upon the stage than
+over the orchestra. Lady Gayland, passionately fond of music as she
+was, had already arrived when Castleton and his wife entered. Lady
+Castleton sat in front next the stage, Lady Gayland on the opposite
+side, with her back to the audience, and Castleton beside her. Partly
+from the earliness of the hour, and partly from the interest of the
+performance of that opera, then new to this country, they remained
+long without any additional visitors. Every thing was a matter of
+bewilderment to Lucy, from the very first crash of the overture,
+which, except the war of the winter waves, was the loudest sound she
+had ever heard.
+
+As subjects of astonishment and admiration accumulated in the opera,
+she became confused with their multitude, and ashamed to show the
+extent to which she was puzzled, by asking any questions. Lady
+Gayland’s good-natured attempt to explain the story as it proceeded,
+was not very successful, as Lucy could not retain either the real or
+assumed names of the persons described, so as to be able to identify
+them again; and the nature of the (to her) strange costumes, puzzled
+her even as to which were meant for men, and which for women. The
+choruses she could not at all understand. She longed to ask how
+so many people could think of singing exactly the same words all
+together, unless it had been a psalm. The finely executed elongation
+of a high note, to her ignorant simplicity, seemed only an unmeaning
+squall.
+
+In the mean time, Castleton and Lady Gayland were in a state of
+ecstasy only known to the true “Fanatici,” an enjoyment certainly
+much enhanced to both of them by their being able mutually to
+communicate their sensations. It has been remarked, that the peculiar
+character of Castleton was the refinement of his taste, which was on
+some occasions much too fastidious for his happiness; but in nothing
+was his taste more perfect than in music, though he was often too
+much of an enthusiast to be a very captious critic.
+
+Castleton and Lady Gayland had often together heard and admired Pasta
+in the same opera in Italy; and whilst they therefore anticipated
+the brilliancy of each well-known passage, or subsequently discussed
+its comparative merit, now and the last time they had heard it, Lucy
+could not conceive how it was possible for any one to remember sounds
+so long.
+
+Perhaps that sympathy which depends on sound is, of all others, the
+most independent of events, the most survives change, or despises
+distance. It may be, that when any similarity occurs, the points of
+difference are not so distinguishable by the ear as by the eye; but
+certainly in foreign lands the tone of a bell, or even the whistling
+of the wind, will sometimes recall a distant home more strongly than
+any likeness in the outline of the landscape. And amongst individuals
+the recollection of a loved and a lost one is sometimes casually
+revived by a well-known intonation, or even emphasis, in the mouth
+of an indifferent relative, when no family resemblance of feature
+would have been admitted. Be this as it may, the impression now made
+on Castleton and Lady Gayland, as the opera proceeded, and each
+well-remembered cadence recurred was, that here again were the same
+syren sounds which they had together heard, together admired. Even so
+had they then sat, side by side; yet how changed in every respect now
+was their relative position!
+
+“I remember,” said Castleton, in answer to some remark of Lady
+Gayland’s, “you made a similar observation to me last time we heard
+it--it was the night before I left Naples.”
+
+“Yes,” said Lady Gayland, “and Frank Melmoth was sitting, as it might
+be, where Lady Castleton now is--I have never seen him either, since
+that night.”
+
+“You have never seen him since that night?”
+
+“No; the pennyless treasurer passed on to his appropriate post in one
+of the colonies.”
+
+“And after that night you _never_ saw him?” eagerly asked Castleton.
+
+“Never,” replied Lady Gayland calmly, clearing her “_longnettes_,”
+and directing them towards the stage with a “_sang froid_” that
+seemed to convey the idea that the fact was one which neither had
+then made any impression on her, nor did she wish that its recital
+should now make any on her auditor.
+
+It will not be necessary to inflict on the reader any speculation
+upon the nature of those mixed reflections which, during the next
+few minutes of silence, whilst they were apparently absorbed in
+attention to the performance, distracted the attention of the two
+musical amateurs. It will be sufficient to explain that this Frank
+Melmoth was rather a popular character, though what is commonly
+called a cool hand. It was impossible to deny that he was amusing;
+though not witty, he was funny,--a characteristic acquired by a
+mixture of impudence and humour, which forms a sort of chemical
+compound, often substituted for the real attic salt. There were
+moments when it rather suited Lady Gayland’s humour to be amused
+than interested, and of these Frank Melmoth availed himself during
+his stay at Naples, on his way to the distant sinecure which his
+necessities had obliged him to accept. A widow is said to be the
+reverse of a sinecure, but he thought that a jointure, even with
+its lively accompaniment, was better than being buried alive with
+a pension; and therefore did his best to win her favour: in which
+attempt he soon detected Castleton to be a formidable rival; and in
+his endeavours to overcome that obstacle, Frank Melmoth was up to
+a certain point successful. He had certainly most powerful weapons
+with which to work, in Lady Gayland’s keen relish for ridicule, and
+Castleton’s morbid sense of its slightest application to himself. Not
+only did he sometimes succeed in amusing Lady Gayland at Castleton’s
+expense, but in causing her demonstration of that amusement to be
+offensive to Castleton’s taste, as well as hurtful to his feelings.
+Lady Gayland was afraid that she had already shown herself too
+sensible of the partiality of her sensitive admirer, to render these
+playful ebullitions on her part of more than momentary impression;
+but Castleton, whose feelings were too irritable on this subject
+for his judgment to be very sound, thought that he perceived in her
+readiness, when in a merry mood, to seek amusement from the society
+of Frank Melmoth, another proof that (like the young lady whom he
+mentioned in his letter to his friend St. Clair,) if she hesitated
+between them, it was only the adventitious advantages of his
+position in the world which rendered her choice doubtful, otherwise
+her preference would have been decidedly accorded to the needy Frank
+Melmoth.
+
+This was an opinion which Frank did every thing in his power to
+confirm. He had, indeed, induced Castleton by this means to hasten
+his departure from Naples, and as he was obliged himself to proceed
+soon, if not successful in his then pursuit, he had succeeded
+in driving Castleton from the box at San Carlo that night, _in
+dispetto_ with himself, and fancying that he was leaving behind a
+triumphant rival, who five minutes afterwards brought upon himself
+the sudden termination of all his hopes by an abrupt proposal, which
+was summarily and concisely rejected, and the next morning, which
+saw Castleton flying with foaming steeds in imaginary discomfiture
+over the Pontine Marshes, saw Frank Melmoth thoroughly defeated,
+paddling in a sulky steam-boat out of the bay of Naples. It may
+therefore be seen, that if in the reflections which the same opera,
+seen again together, mutually aroused, there was any food for
+regret--that regret could on neither side be entirely unmingled
+with self-reproach. Thoughtlessness had made Lady Gayland assume
+the appearance of what she was far from being--a coquette; and in
+Castleton’s case, distrust of himself had made him most unjust to
+another whom he had then no right to doubt.
+
+Towards the conclusion of the opera, these reflections were
+interrupted by the dropping in, in succession, of many “a young man
+about town,” _habitués_ of Lady Gayland’s box, whose nightly visit
+had this time a double motive, as they were all anxious to have a
+nearer view of the “new woman,” whom they had been admiring from a
+distance.
+
+At the conclusion of the opera, this rotation proceeded rapidly;
+and Lucy was presented to an undistinguishable succession of young
+gentlemen, with black heads and neckcloths, who had each hardly time
+to mutter, “how divine Pasta had been!” when another and another
+still succeeded.
+
+Through all this Castleton had kept his station by the side of Lady
+Gayland, by a sort of brevet rank, which the presence of his bride
+gave him. Latterly, the society had again become more stationary.
+Next to Castleton was his friend St. Clair, with whom he was soon
+engaged in an interesting conversation. Opposite to them was Lord
+Stayinmore, who had never more than a certain set of phrases to
+address to a lady. Having exhausted these to Lucy, he suffered
+himself to be engrossed by Sir North, on his other side, in a
+political discussion.
+
+Lady Gayland, therefore, took the opportunity of inquiring of Lucy,
+“how the opera had amused her?” There was that unmistakable air of
+real interest in Lady Gayland’s manner, whenever she addressed Lucy,
+which made her always reply in a tone of confidence, different from
+that which she felt towards any other member of the society in which
+she moved.
+
+“Why, to tell the honest truth,” said she, leaning forward towards
+her questioner, “I can’t say that I could the least understand what
+it all meant. It’s not likely that people should sing when they’re in
+such sorrow; and then I can’t guess why that young man should kill
+the queen that was so kind to him all along.”
+
+“I don’t wonder that that should surprise you, my dear; but he was
+not aware of what he was doing. It was in the dark.”
+
+“In the dark! But I could see very well who it was, though I did not
+know her so well as he did, and was so much farther off.”
+
+“I am afraid you are in the dark, too, a little as yet,” said Lady
+Gayland, (tapping her gently with her fan.) “But, tell me, did you
+not admire the singing, though you could not understand the story?”
+
+“Why, I should, perhaps, if I had known the language; but even then
+they seemed to me more like birds, than men and women singing words.
+I like a song that I can make out every word that’s said, just as
+cousin George used to sing.”
+
+She rather dropped her voice at the last half sentence, but not so
+much as for it to escape the quick ear of Castleton, who turned
+sharply round, even before Lady Gayland asked, “And who, pray, is
+cousin George, my dear?”
+
+“A relative of Lady Castleton’s, who is in the navy,” answered
+Castleton for her; and then turned round to St. Clair again, as if,
+though having heard it he had answered it, it was nevertheless a
+question of no moment.
+
+The overture to the ballet, just then commencing with a crash, Lady
+Gayland took advantage of that moment to beckon Lucy towards her, and
+whisper, “At Hornscliff that day, was he not?” and on her assenting,
+Lady Gayland raised her finger to her lip in token of silence on the
+subject.
+
+The curtain then rose for the ballet; at first, Lucy was delighted
+with the scenery and pageantry, for the spectacle was grand and
+imposing. But at length the resounding plaudits announced the
+_entrée_ of the perfect Taglioni. Lucy was a little astonished at her
+costume upon her first appearance. She was attired as a goddess, and
+goddesses’ gowns are somewhat of the shortest, and their legs rather
+_au naturel_; but when she came to elicit universal admiration by
+pointing her toe, and revolving in the slow _pirouette_, Lucy, from
+the situation in which she sat, was overpowered with shame at the
+effect; and whilst Lady Gayland, with her _longnette_ fixed on the
+stage, ejaculated, “Beautiful! inimitable!” the unpractised Lucy
+could not help exclaiming, “O that is too bad! I cannot stay to see
+that!” and she turned her head away, blushing deeply.
+
+“Is your ladyship ill?” exclaimed Lord Stayinmore. “Castleton, I am
+afraid Lady Castleton feels herself indisposed.”
+
+“Would you like to go?” kindly inquired Castleton.
+
+“O so much!” she answered.
+
+“Are you ill, my dear?” asked Lady Gayland.
+
+“O no!” she said.
+
+“Then you had better stay, it is so beautiful.”
+
+“Thank you, Lord Castleton is kind enough to let me go.”
+
+Which he did, still imagining that she had been suddenly taken ill.
+Therefore St. Clair volunteered to call her carriage--Lord Stayinmore
+bowed his lowest as she passed--Sir North reached his highest to
+help her on with her cloak--Lady Gayland took leave of her most
+kindly--and Castleton attending her with the greatest care, she was
+safely conveyed to the carriage; and it was not till then that he
+entreated an explanation of what had really been the cause of her
+sudden departure.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER V.
+
+                             Oh, brave new world,
+                     That hath such people in it!
+                                                    SHAKSPEARE.
+
+    Those that are good manners at the court, are as
+    ridiculous in the country.
+                                                    SHAKSPEARE.
+
+
+“And how do you find yourself now, my dear Lucy?” tenderly inquired
+Castleton, as the carriage drove off.
+
+“O I am quite well, thank you.”
+
+“Quite well! are you? What was it, then, that was the matter with
+you?”
+
+“There was nothing the matter with me; it was that woman.”
+
+“What woman? what can you mean? Did you not say that you were ill;
+and was not that the reason that we hurried away?”
+
+“No! YOU said I was ill; and I did not contradict you, because you
+tell me that in the world, as you call it, it is not always right
+to give the real reason for what we do; and therefore I thought,
+perhaps, that though of course you wished me to come away, you liked
+to put it upon my being ill.”
+
+“Of course I wished you to come away! I was never more unwilling to
+move in all my life; and nothing but consideration for your health
+would have induced me to stir. Why should I have wished you to come
+away?”
+
+“Why, the naked woman,” stammered Lucy.
+
+“What can you mean?”
+
+“You couldn’t surely wish me to sit by the side of those people, to
+see such a thing as that?”
+
+“As to being by the side of those people, I must remind you, that
+it was Lady Gayland’s box in which you were; and that whatever she,
+with her acknowledged taste and refinement, sanctions with her
+presence, can only be objected to by ignorance or prejudice. You have
+still a great deal to learn, my dear Lucy,” added he, more kindly;
+“and nothing can be so fatal to your progress in that respect, as
+your attempting to lead, or to find fault, with what you do not
+understand.”
+
+“But surely I can understand that it is not right to do what I saw
+that woman do,” interrupted Lucy, presuming a little more doggedly
+than she usually ventured to do on any subject with her husband; for
+this time she had been really shocked by what she had seen.
+
+“Wrong it certainly is not, if you mean moral wrong. As to such an
+exhibition being becoming or not in point of manners, that depends
+entirely upon custom. Many things at your father’s might strike
+me as coarsenesses, which made no impression upon you from habit,
+though much worse in my opinion than this presumed indecorum. Those
+things probably arose from ignorance on your parts, which might be
+corrected. This, on the other hand, from conventional indifference,
+consequent on custom, which it is not in you to correct. Depend upon
+it you will only get yourself laughed at, and me too, if you preach
+about dancers’ petticoats.”
+
+“I don’t want to preach to any body; and you know how much it fashes
+me to contend with you.”
+
+“Don’t say FASHES, say distresses, or annoys, not _fashes_, for
+heaven’s sake, my dear Lucy.”
+
+“O dear, it was very stupid of me to forget it. That was one of the
+first things you taught me, and it is a many days since I said it
+last; but it is so strange to me to venture to differ with you, that
+I get confused, and don’t say any thing as right as I could do. Even
+now I should like to ask, if modesty is a merit, whether nakedness
+ought to be a show; but I’ll say no more, for I dare say you won’t
+make me go there again.”
+
+“No, that will be the best way to settle it. Certainly, if it is no
+enjoyment to you, it would be much better that you should not go at
+all, than make yourself particular by imagining evil where there is
+none. One thing more I must remark to you, and I may as well do it
+at once, as I had always rather get over any thing that assumes the
+odious shape of a lecture, and have done with it.”
+
+“I know what you are going to say, I’m sure,” said Lucy, feeling
+rather bolder than usual, from her present position. The obscurity,
+easy motion, and rumbling accompaniment of a London chariot, have
+often promoted confidences which no other relative situations have
+elicited. “I know what you are going to say. I ought not to have
+thought about cousin George.”
+
+“Thought about him! no! It was not that I meant. I was going to say,
+that no person in good society talks about COUSIN George. Call him
+_George_, if you must mention him; though his accomplishments cannot
+be a very interesting topic to any one you are likely to see here. I
+am sure if he had been known to them, the idea of your boasting of
+his singing must have seemed still more absurd. Stentorian lungs, and
+uproarious merriment, must have been his principal qualifications.”
+
+“Indeed, he could sing with great feeling sometimes,” Lucy could not
+help adding; and then checking herself, “but I ought certainly to
+have recollected, that you have no reason to like him; and though in
+his case you returned good for evil, you are not like to fancy much
+hearing him praised by me.”
+
+This was not exactly the footing upon which Castleton would have
+wished to have left the subject, but just then the carriage stopped
+at home, and Lucy, when he handed her out said,
+
+“I am so very sorry that I have _annoyed_ you; that’s the right word,
+is not it? And I’m sure it’s the right feeling.”
+
+After this he could not but think that any renewal of any of the
+topics in dispute, would be unkind and harsh on his part.
+
+“I wish to ask a great favour, my dear Lord,” said Lucy, anxiously,
+as they were seated the next morning at breakfast.
+
+“Speak on, my dear,” said he, rather fearing some unsuitable request.
+
+“I wish you would be good enough to tell me how I could make myself
+most like Lady Gayland.”
+
+“Make yourself like Lady Gayland! why should you wish it?” inquired
+he, at once struck with the impossibility of her succeeding in such
+an attempt.
+
+“Because I feel that I admire her even more than I love her, and that
+is difficult.--So easy in her cleverness as she is, and so kind to
+others--so good as she was to me once!”
+
+“Once! when?”
+
+“I should have said _always_, for she is always kind to me.”
+
+“My dear Lucy, I will not pretend to be otherwise than much pleased
+at the desire you have expressed; which shows that you must have
+taste to appreciate what you desire to imitate. But at the same
+time, believe me, there would be nothing more impossible to imitate
+than that ease, or rather absence of effect in cleverness, which
+struck even you so much in Lady Gayland. You have a thousand other
+charms of your own equally estimable, but perhaps the greatest is
+that perfect nature which is incompatible with imitation. One thing,
+however, I can recommend, as you introduced the subject, and think
+not in alluding to it I am reviving, with any unpleasant feeling, the
+occurrences of yesterday evening. But if my pretty little Lucy need
+not attempt to be like, as little need she endeavour to be unlike,
+Lady Gayland; and if you do not emulate as necessary, as little
+need you avoid as wrong, any thing you observe in that accomplished
+person.”
+
+“At any rate if it is only to direct me thus far, I hope at least you
+think that the more I see of Lady Gayland the better.”
+
+And to this Lucy received no negative from Castleton.
+
+Lady Gayland probably deceived herself in the nature of the motives
+and feelings which induced her to acquiesce in the desire, equally
+obvious on the part both of Castleton and Lucy, that their
+intercourse with her should ripen into intimacy. She certainly
+thought that the interest with which Lucy had inspired her, did not
+depend at all upon the person she had married, but that, on the
+contrary, had Castleton married any one else, past recollection
+would have induced her rather to avoid him. The singular nature of
+her first meeting with Lucy, combined with the strange coincidence
+of her again crossing her path in so different a rank in life, and
+the mystery in which that elevation was involved, would in her
+imaginative brain have given a romantic charm to the acquaintance,
+independent of the fact, that the precise fate which must have been
+so unexpectedly thrust on her, whom she had known so forlorn and
+lonely, was what, till lately, she had herself considered as one
+which was hers either to accept or refuse.
+
+Lady Gayland’s proud spirit, and conscious elevation of intellect,
+would certainly prevent her from long pining after one who had
+appeared to slight her preference; and the manner of Castleton’s
+departure from Naples had undoubtedly exposed him to such an
+imputation. But during their mutual residence in Italy, Castleton
+had certainly made a serious impression on one whose heart was as
+sensitive as her fancy was volatile. Sympathy of feeling is by
+no means inconsistent with contrast in character. Her exuberant
+spirits animated his more placid sense of enjoyment; and a smile of
+approbation from him conferred more pleasure on her, than the noisy
+applause of others. Her brilliant wit excited his dormant fancy into
+more active exertion, which the fastidiousness of his taste might
+otherwise have checked; and the acknowledged correctness of that
+taste confined the soaring flights of her fancy within the limits
+of approval. Thus the very variety of their genius only elicited, in
+greater perfection, that cultivation of intellect which was equally
+remarkable in both; and whilst rivalry was thus avoided, admiration
+was reciprocal.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VI.
+
+          And looking stedfastly at her, she sighed,
+          As if she pitied her for being there,
+          A pretty stranger without friend or guide,
+          And all abash’d, too, at the general stare.
+                                                     BYRON.
+
+
+“I have invited a few friends to dine with us,” said Castleton, some
+little time after the incidents of the last chapter. “I suppose you
+will wish Lady Gayland to be one.”
+
+“O by all means,” readily answered Lucy. “I always feel so much more
+at my ease when she is by; not only she is always so kind to me; but
+wherever _she_ is, every one must be occupied with her, so that if I
+am awkward or not, no one has leisure to mark it.”
+
+Castleton, whose dinners had always been “_recherché_,” as a
+batchelor, had hitherto felt nervous as to Lucy’s being able to pass
+the critical examination of a long London dinner, but at last having
+for some time not detected any glaring impropriety in her deportment,
+he became again desirous to collect his friends around him at his own
+table.
+
+It has been remarked before, that neither politics nor any of the
+graver avocations of life had ever had much charm for Castleton.
+Society, which to men of more active pursuits is but a relaxation,
+was to him an occupation. It was the field in which must be
+maintained his position as a critic, connoisseur, and man of
+unrivalled taste. And where society is a _métier_, the man who gives
+dinners differs as much from one who does not, as the _ins_ from the
+_outs_ in politics,--one may earn some empty fame, but the other has
+the real following.
+
+On the evening of Castleton’s first dinner, Lucy had finished her
+toilet early. Anxious to gratify her husband with a change, she had
+for the first time adopted a novelty in her costume--abandoning her
+usual ringlets, she had had her fine hair simply parted across her
+forehead, adopting this mode, though not so much in the fashion, in
+imitation of Lady Gayland, on whom she had often admired its effect.
+
+Perhaps, generally speaking, it would be as safe to ape oddity
+of conversation without the wit which excites it, as to imitate
+any peculiarity in dress, which might only be becoming to its
+inventor. But in this instance, Lucy’s attempt was successful, for
+the same chaste classical setting which added elevation to the
+thought-thronged brow of her gifted prototype, suited admirably the
+simplicity of her own pure and innocent countenance.
+
+Lucy’s first glance at the mirror as she entered the drawing-room,
+convinced her that the effect was favourable, and she waited with the
+impatience of agreeable expectation for Castleton’s opinion, which
+she had no doubt he would express at once upon seeing her. It was,
+therefore, a matter of disappointment to her, that when he entered,
+it was in one of those absent and pre-occupied moods in which a man
+looks at all things without seeing any.
+
+Many little harmless artifices did poor Lucy play off to endeavour to
+attract his attention before any of the company should arrive, and
+thus prevent his expressing that approbation which she hoped she had
+earned. She could not help thinking that the more she looked at him,
+the more he must look at her, and therefore with a gaze that seemed
+to require reciprocity, kept her eyes fixed on him, through all his
+fidgetty and evidently uneasy movements.
+
+The cause of this strange deportment on his part, arose from a
+note he had found, upon his return home, from Sir North Saunders,
+containing an acceptance of a verbal invitation he had given him
+somewhat late to dine with him that day.
+
+The party which he had invited was not a large one, though somewhat
+mixed. The only ladies were Lady Gayland and Mrs. Tudor. He had
+carefully avoided any practised scoffers, lest a _manque des
+convenances_, on Lucy’s part, should unhappily furnish them with a
+ready subject for ridicule on the morrow. But the sight of Sir North
+addressing Lucy, without the slightest suspicion, as a person he
+had never seen before, always gave him comfort, as reassuring him
+as to the impossibility of her ever being recognized as having been
+connected with the trial at ----. He had, therefore, on meeting Sir
+North, pressed him to dine with him, and on Sir North regretting
+that his having asked a friend himself, rendered it impossible,
+Castleton had rather imprudently extended the invitation to the said
+friend, to which Sir North demurred at the time, but had since wrote
+to say--“Proud to present to your more special notice--rising young
+man--particular friend,--Peter Spencer.”
+
+Now not only did Castleton, from all he had heard, as well as the
+little he had seen of Peter Spencer, dislike him particularly, but he
+was also aware, that if ever the identity of Lady Castleton with the
+Lucy Darnell of the assizes was to be detected, it was most likely
+to be effected by the prying Peter Spencer, who was also one of the
+very few people who could recollect her in the former situation.
+He had, therefore, as much as he could, avoided that individual,
+which, as Spencer now affected professional practice, and therefore
+made but rare apparitions in general society, was not difficult. The
+prospect of having brought upon himself such an intrusion into his
+own house, was therefore not agreeable, and he was still puzzling
+himself whether he could with advantage caution Lucy particularly,
+as to her deportment towards that person, when the opportunity was
+lost by the first knock at the door, which sound roused him from his
+abstraction. He looked at Lucy for the first time attentively, and
+kissed her kindly, saying, “How very much that becomes you! You look
+so very well, and yet so unlike your usual self, that I should think
+some might find it difficult to know you again.”
+
+The door opened as he said this, thoroughly expected to see shut
+in the pompous little person of Peter Spencer; but it was only a
+punctual artist, a _protégé_ of Castleton’s, who was much struck
+with the appearance of his patron’s bride, and enchanted with the
+idea of so fine a subject as a sitter.
+
+The long twilight of a London summer evening had almost ceased to
+struggle against the artificial darkness of the drawing-room; the
+company had collected, and the shades of night had gathered round
+them, before Sir North and Peter Spencer arrived, and attempted to
+guess their way through an obscure mass of friends and _fauteuils_ to
+make their obeisance in the direction which Castleton’s voice marked
+as that where was seated their indistinguishable hostess.
+
+When dinner was announced, and Castleton and Lady Gayland of course
+headed the downward procession, there ensued a pause in those
+who were to follow, either arising from the darkness or doubtful
+precedence, or the want of some one to marshall the order of march:
+a point in which, of course Lucy was profoundly ignorant.
+
+“How absurd!” said Lady Gayland, “the minute point to which this
+mummery is studied in England. Men will sometimes draw back in horror
+from an almost offered arm, and avoid the propinquity which can alone
+make the party agreeable to him, for fear it should be supposed that
+he had forgotten that his ancestors only fought at Agincourt, whilst
+there was another man in the room whose name was connected with
+Cressy. In that land, where social liberty has survived political
+restraint, where we have so often met, it is the most recent
+preference, not the most ancient patent, which places people.”
+
+“I, at least, have no right to complain,” said Castleton, “who have
+obtained by one system what I should have sought by the other.”
+
+“Meaning me: of course you could not help saying as much, considering
+how easily such things are said.”
+
+“Mr. Spencer, will you sit next to Lady Gayland?” said Castleton to
+him, catching him _en passant_, anxious to fix him at a distance from
+Lucy.
+
+“O no!” said Lady Gayland, “Mr. Mastic, I won’t hear of your
+deserting me. Mr. Mastic here, is very anxious to study my profile,
+which Lord Castleton has promised to give him an opportunity of doing
+by being very agreeable on the other side; so Mr. Spencer, that
+your presence is impossible--I am in despair;”--and Peter Spencer
+proceeded upwards, where he found a vacant chair at the other side,
+within two of Lucy--the party, it was stated, not being a very large
+one, and the table circular.
+
+“What had I done to deserve that?” asked Lady Gayland; “if you
+had provided yourself with a silent pendant, _come questo_,” in a
+lower tone, and glancing at Mr. Mastic, “I might have believed your
+previous pretty speech; but to fix upon me so active a bore, you must
+have determined to devote yourself entirely to Mrs. Tudor.”
+
+Castleton could not give his real reason, and therefore merely said,
+“I always thought Spencer had been rather protected by you.”
+
+“Protected! never; sometimes attacked, but there is no luxury one
+wears out so soon, as one’s butt. Like a glove, it ought never to be
+used twice, it becomes so easy.”
+
+Peter Spencer, in the mean time, from his new position, had every
+opportunity of observing the fair hostess. The first impression was
+rendered more striking, from the blaze of light by which she was now
+surrounded, so immediately succeeding the obscurity out of which
+they had groped their way. He had not even seen her at a distance
+among the crowd at Lady Delacour’s ball; the only place to which he
+had been since she came to town. At first view he merely retained
+some indistinct recollection of its being a face he had somewhere
+before seen; and it was only when she spoke that a confused idea of
+the truth broke upon him. She was sitting next Lord Stayinmore, who,
+to those who did not know him, and could not venture to treat him as
+Lady Gayland did, was rather a formidable person. In answering his
+pompous questions, Lucy got rather nervous, and there was something
+in the tone of her reply, which recalled to Spencer’s mind the young
+girl at the Assize town, under the examination of his senior, old Mr.
+Bailey.
+
+Turning to his next neighbour, he addressed him, with
+
+“I can _e_-spy a most extra-_or_dinary res-_em_-blance in
+our f-_a_cin-_a_ting hostess to an unf_or_tunate fe-_e_male
+imp_li_cated in a nef-_a_rious tr_an_saction in the course of my
+prof-_es_s-_io_nal career.”
+
+“Hum,” said his neighbour, whom the communication did not all
+interest.
+
+Finding no encouragement in this quarter, with the strange
+coincidence running in his head, though, as yet, without suspecting
+the identity, he vociferated to Sir North, who sat just opposite to
+him.
+
+“Sir North, was not Lord Castleton in c_o_u_r_t at that most
+extra-_or_dinary trial of a case, whose loc-_a_lity was in the
+neighbourhood of H-_or_nscliff A-bb-_e_y?”
+
+Castleton, even in the midst of one of Lady Gayland’s most brilliant
+sallies, caught the drawling intonation of Spencer making this
+_mal-apropos_ inquiry; and before Sir North could even finish his
+reply, “that he was himself not in court,” he had interposed with,
+“Mr. Spencer, a glass of wine--champagne?” But this only procured a
+respite, through the assent, the order, its execution, the bow, and
+the swallow, which completed the social libation. Peter Spencer then
+continued, and Castleton could catch just enough of what followed to
+make him uneasy, without enabling him to ascertain the moment when he
+could interpose, and yet not bring about the very discovery he wished
+to avoid.
+
+Who has not sometimes suffered under that worst of conversational
+penances, the feeling obliged to appear to listen to your next
+neighbour, when you cannot help catching from a distance disjointed
+words of some topic your peculiar favourite, on which you are most
+anxious either to listen or amuse. But Castleton’s position was
+even worse than this; for it was Lady Gayland, in her most winning
+mood, who was his next neighbour, and it was her he was obliged to
+neglect, in attempting to catch indistinctly the most unwelcome tones
+of Mr. Spencer’s disagreeable voice.
+
+“But, Sir North, though s-_a_tisf_a_ctory proof could not be then
+el-_i_c_i_ted, I _o_-pine we shall have the h-_a_nging y_e_t of that
+f_e_llow. D_a_rnell was his name; I have no doubt he made away with
+the _u_-nkn-_o_wn. A blood-thirsty cut-throat from his birth.”
+
+“O no, that he was not!” exclaimed Lucy vehemently, “he was the
+kindest boy that ever breathed, and I have no doubt he will still
+live to do honour to those who are kind to him.”
+
+“Your ladyship, then, was personally acquainted with him?” inquired
+Spencer.
+
+“No, not I--Lord Castleton. Yes--why should I deny it? No! how should
+I know? I was only joking--Ha! ha! ha! O dear, I’m very ill,” cried
+she, again relapsing into a sort of hysterical laugh.
+
+Her nerves being very much excited by her attempt to suppress any
+appearance of interest in the conversation she had overheard; and
+then having been incautiously betrayed into an imprudent speech, by
+her desire to defend George from so harsh a sentence, she at last
+got completely bewildered between her innate desire to speak the
+truth when asked, and her horror at having unintentionally committed
+herself, in a manner which she knew would, of all others, be most
+displeasing to her husband.
+
+Castleton, to whose painfully excited attention all this last
+scene had been but too audible, was hardly withheld, even by the
+imminent danger of an _esclandre_, which such a proceeding might
+entail, from starting up, and, under the plea of illness, which
+Lucy’s own expression had rendered plausible, inducing her at once
+to retire. Yet he was afraid that sufficient clue had already been
+given to the pettifogging intellect of Peter Spencer to enable
+him to connect that sudden illness, which would of course become
+the subject of conversation, with his own acute suspicion. Whilst
+Castleton was still hesitating, Lucy not yet attempting to recover
+herself,--general attention concentrating upon her, and wonderment
+spreading, as to the cause of her strange state,--Lady Gayland
+stretched her beautiful arm towards one of those tall, rickety,
+pagoda-like bonbonnieres, which were here, as elsewhere, dotted about
+the circle of the table at certain intervals, and lightly touching
+it with her finger, the top-heavy machine tipped over with exactly
+the impetus she intended, and both its circular and globular contents
+rolled far and near, and scattered themselves all over the table,
+and from the direction in which they were slily propelled, they
+particularly abounded in the neighbourhood of Peter Spencer.
+
+“If that had been done on purpose, the mischief could not have been
+more complete. Lord Castleton can you pardon my awkwardness?” said
+Lady Gayland, who had watched the progress of Lucy’s dilemma, knew
+much more of its origin than any of the principal parties believed,
+and had on the spur of the moment devised this expedient to divert
+attention, and relieve Lucy’s difficulties.
+
+“Good comes of evil though,” said she; “I am rewarded for my
+clumsiness by a full view of Mr. Spencer, who was hitherto under an
+eclipse to me, and now does he not rise upon me in all his grandeur!
+Since Marius, in the ruins of Carthage, there never was anything
+so stern or sublime, as he looks amongst the _debris_ of scattered
+sugar-plums, and broken _bon-bons_.”
+
+That is a happy expression of the French _saisir la ridicule_. But
+no one knew so well as she did exactly the moment to bring into play
+that faculty which must be innate, for no art can teach _saisir la
+ridicule_.
+
+She had, in this instance, both a motive for exertion and an object
+on which to exercise it, and she certainly did not spare Peter
+Spencer. The consequence of which was, that not only Lucy had time to
+recover herself, but that her previous confusion was forgotten by the
+company in the impression of the amusement furnished by Lady Gayland;
+and even Spencer himself departed with, to the full, as distinct an
+idea that he had made himself ridiculous, as that he had made Lady
+Castleton uncomfortable.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VII.
+
+                  For now my love is thawed,
+          Which, like a waxen image ’gainst a fire,
+          Bears no impression of the thing it was.
+                                                  SHAKSPEARE.
+
+          The English winter ending in July
+          To recommence in August, now was done;
+          ’Tis the postillion’s paradise; wheels fly
+          On roads east, south, north, west.
+                                                  BYRON.
+
+
+Castleton was much vexed at the danger which Lucy had incurred, of
+discovering all that he most wished to conceal; but she seemed to
+have suffered so much herself, from her imprudence, that he could not
+find it in his heart to upbraid her on the subject. Taking courage
+from this forbearance on his part, she ventured the next morning
+to ask him, “Would it not be better, my dear lord, that it should
+at least be known from how low a station your kindness raised me:
+when, perhaps, people would be too good-natured (or well-bred, as
+you call the same thing) to talk to me on such subjects, since even
+in attempting to conceal it, such risks are run as my imprudence is
+always bringing about.”
+
+“It is too late to think of that now, Lucy; if all were to do over
+again, I know not how much might remain undone. However, if there had
+not been that unlucky adventure blended with our early connexion,
+it might perhaps have been better to have owned more; though I then
+thought your manners, which still appear to me wonderful, prevented
+the necessity of such an avowal. But that ill-starred cousin of
+yours, who has given the character of a nest of smugglers to your
+whole set, rendered any other course than concealment of your origin
+impossible. Above all, now, you have no idea of the avidity with
+which an awkward story about any one that is known is communicated.
+‘Have you heard the strange story about Lord Castleton?’ would spread
+like wildfire; and I should be the laughing-stock of every one who
+spells a Sunday paper, from the Land’s end to John o’ Groat’s House.”
+
+Lucy, though she would not dispute what she did not understand, felt
+hurt at the slighting mention of the home of her youth as a “_nest of
+smugglers_.” She might indeed have replied, that she was sure no one
+who knew her dear father at Mayton or elsewhere, would believe that
+_he_ could ever have any thing to say to such doings.
+
+But Castleton, fearing nothing but anxiety from prolonging his stay
+in London, continued, “We have now been above two months in London,
+Lucy; would you dislike the idea of returning into the country?”
+
+“O I should like it so much! One thing I should wish: do you think
+you could persuade Lady Gayland to come and see us there? I feel
+so fond of her, and I often think she is in many respects a more
+suitable companion for you than I am. You both understand the same
+things to talk about. And then, perhaps, if I wished just to go to
+Morden Bay, you could better spare me a little while.”
+
+“No, my dear Lucy,” said Castleton smiling, “that would not render
+it at all less difficult to spare you. But about the rest do as you
+like; you shall have the pleasure of asking Lady Gayland herself: if
+she comes at all, it will be for you.”
+
+It is not of course to be supposed but that a person of Lucy’s
+natural quickness, though unpractised in observation, should
+have made some progress during the time she was in town towards
+understanding the requisite qualifications for her new situation;
+but unfortunately this very quickness made her only more conscious
+of her manifold deficiencies. A little application, when she gave
+her attention to any one point, like a magnifying glass, made its
+particular form and bearing perfectly distinct to her comprehension;
+but that very circumstance only rendered her more thoroughly aware
+how vague and undefined were to her all other objects on that varied
+horizon, which she indistinctly surveyed from her isolated elevation,
+and the shape in which this consciousness of her situation most
+disagreeably occurred to her, was that whilst Castleton wandered
+freely through all these scenes to him so familiar, she was herself
+merely a sort of landmark of the affections, to which he returned at
+stated intervals, rather than his constant companion through all
+the mazes of society, or his active associate in the pursuits of
+literature.
+
+This painful sensation of her own unfitness, which feeling increased
+with her efforts to diminish it, was expressed by her with much
+candour to her friend Lady Gayland, while persuading that lady to
+take up her abode with her as soon as possible at Somersby Park.
+
+“There’s no study, dear Lady Gayland, which does me, I am sure, half
+so much good as hearing you talk. What I attempt to teach myself,
+seems only to show me how much more I have to learn. What you tell
+me, seems as if it ought to be as easy to me, as it plainly is to
+you. And yet I am afraid that you are just what I should find it most
+difficult to imitate: at least, so Castleton thinks.”
+
+“Perhaps his wish is father to that thought; there may be nothing he
+would so little like you to resemble.”
+
+“On the contrary, no one admires you more than he does--that I am
+sure of; and then, too, you are old friends.”
+
+“For that very reason, perhaps, a little contrast--”
+
+“How can you say so? You can’t think it. But you are always so kind,
+that I am sure you will let me speak a little seriously to you.”
+
+“What about, my dear?” asked Lady Gayland, with apparently little
+surprise, and perhaps some uneasiness.
+
+“About myself. I want to consult you on a point on which your advice
+would be of the greatest service to me. I need not say that it is my
+only desire, as well as my first duty, to please Castleton. Nobody so
+well as you could tell me how I ought to try for that,” she added,
+with perfect simplicity.
+
+“Go on--that’s somewhat difficult,” answered Lady Gayland
+abstractedly.
+
+“Now, when I hear any subject talked of in conversation about which I
+know nothing, I never show my ignorance, because that Castleton told
+me to avoid; but I treasure up the recollection of it, and endeavour
+to work out the knowledge of it for myself against another time. But
+there are some things I cannot learn from books. Now if you would let
+me come to you about them----”
+
+“But why not ask your husband, my dear?”
+
+“So I do sometimes, but I don’t think he much likes it. Only the
+other day I heard people say that one of their friends was very
+lucky, for that he got ten thousand pounds for his wife. I could not
+conceive how a man could do that. I never heard of such a thing. And
+I asked Castleton to explain, and he said that as I knew nothing at
+all about it, he should be obliged to make a very long story--that
+he was in a hurry, hadn’t time, and it didn’t signify. And yet,
+though he had not time for that, when I said just afterwards that I
+should like to have a little black parrot, such as I had seen, he
+rode a long way on purpose to try to get one, at the gardens with a
+long name.”
+
+“Zoological?”
+
+“Yes; for he is very kind to me, and I hardly can form a wish that he
+does not try to gratify, and yet----”
+
+“Yet what!”
+
+“Why, when I have taken pains to inform myself on any subject, if
+he is not there, I quite long for an opportunity to bring it out,
+and watch the conversation for that purpose only, and then every one
+else seems to take it quite natural from me. But if I attempt this to
+Castleton I feel quite awkward; and then he says, ‘Where did you pick
+that up, my dear Lucy?’ and that makes me worse. And though at first
+he used to seem surprised if I did _not_ know what others did, now
+it is quite the contrary: he is just as much surprised if I do. That
+change is not a good sign, I am afraid. Is it?”
+
+“It is impossible to answer these questions directly,” said Lady
+Gayland; “difficult to answer them any how satisfactorily--delicate
+for any one to attempt it--perhaps most delicate for me. But
+yours is a singular--a lonely situation. You ask for advice and
+assistance from the only person who you think can be of service
+to you, and with the interest I feel in you, I am unwilling to
+refuse. I have known Lord Castleton long and well--how long and how
+well it is unnecessary for the present purpose to recollect. But
+circumstances made an observer like myself thoroughly acquainted
+with his character. His misfortune is not a common one. His means
+have always been in exaggerated proportion to his ends. Faculties,
+which ought to have extended their influence over society in its
+more extended sense of the community, he has confined to its more
+limited definition--company; and he would have been more perfect
+in all relations as a companion, had he also been a statesman, a
+soldier, a philosopher, or even a poet. The human mind does not, like
+the baser metal, accumulate in store; but like the physical organs
+of our frame, from empty craving it takes to feed upon itself. In
+the limited sphere he had chosen, as Lord Castleton could not dread
+defeat, he learnt to despise success, and thence to cavil at its
+causes. Let me see--what is there I can compare him to, that has come
+within your observation: we went together the other night to the
+pantomime.”
+
+“Yes, thank you,” said Lucy, smiling even through the interest of
+this discussion, at the amusement she had then experienced.
+
+“Well, then, his mind is something like the magic of harlequin’s
+wand amongst the chairs and tables, a superior power misapplied to
+petty purposes, and therefore as often perverting and confounding,
+as improving. This, however, could not apply to the exercise of the
+affections, except so far as his experience of women as members of
+the social system has filled his head with general, and in some
+particular instances most unwarrantable, suspicions. O if a woman
+could with honest pride feel herself the only object of devotion to
+such----But what of this? it is not to the present purpose. Disgusted
+with every thing he had seen and imagined of us poor women of the
+world, he naturally sought the reverse of that which the past had
+taught him. And in seeking an extreme, of the extent of which he
+was by no means aware, I have no doubt that the entire novelty of
+the attempt was originally its chief recommendation. How singularly
+fortunate I think he was, when, in embarking in such an undertaking,
+he met with you, I will not now say. I am not satisfied that you
+should so far exceed all that he had a right to anticipate, but
+wish that you should, if possible, realize his most unreasonable
+expectations. Purity and perfect devotion, those sterling merits
+whose spontaneous growth he sought in the wilderness, he has found in
+you in the highest perfection. Those other qualities, of which he had
+not previously supposed the want, because all he had hitherto seen
+had uniformly possessed them, are produced by cultivation, and may
+be engrafted. London is the place where their absence is most felt,
+their acquirement is most difficult. In the country, where you will
+have him entirely to yourself, you will soon find him again what you
+wish; for Castleton, though clear-sighted, is also considerate to the
+faults of those who interest him.”
+
+“But, my dear Lady Gayland, I shall never be able to do any thing
+without your assistance. When you are by, I always feel so much
+bolder. I own I am at all times rather afraid of Castleton--that is,
+afraid more of my own feeling than of his showing that I have not
+pleased him. You say that I should have Castleton all to myself;
+and certainly I should be glad to have him without the perpetual
+interruptions of our present mode of life, but not without you. No;
+your presence gives me comfort and courage, as well as pleasure.”
+
+There was a pause of lengthened hesitation on Lady Gayland’s part,
+before she replied to this appeal; but at last, to Lady Castleton’s
+reiterated and anxious entreaty of “Now, pray don’t refuse me--do
+come,” she answered,
+
+“Well, my dear, then come I will. That is, I will stop and see you
+when I leave town, on my way to the watering place, where I mean to
+spend the autumn.”
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER VIII.
+
+                   Downward flies my lord,
+           Nodding beside my lady in his carriage;
+           Away! away! fresh horses are the word,
+           And changed as quickly as hearts after marriage.
+                                                           BYRON.
+
+
+It was with feelings of satisfaction, utterly unmixed with regret,
+that Lucy found herself once more cutting her way through that dense
+mass, which is made up of strings of carriages, and clouds of smoke,
+towards those suburbs which upon her entrance had struck her as
+interminable. She only felt that she had Castleton once more by her
+side--a pleasure which had daily become more rare, as their stay in
+London had been protracted. The impression uppermost in his mind, if
+not so pure and unmixed, was upon the whole of a pleasurable nature.
+
+The same train of thought recurred to him as had produced so much
+effect upon his then unsettled opinions some years back, when upon
+leaving town at that season he had first sought Morden Bay, and
+had for the first time beheld the present partner of his fate; and
+as these feelings returned in almost their original freshness,
+they chased away all the more unworthy causes of repining, which
+the frivolous habits of the world had fostered; and for the time
+all anxieties dependent upon a false sense of shame at her former
+position no longer interfered with well-merited admiration of her
+excellent virtues, and transcendent beauty, and grateful confidence
+in her unbounded devotion to himself. He even looked back with
+something like contempt at the perpetual uneasiness under which
+he had laboured, lest the extreme lowness of her origin should be
+discovered, and was now ashamed of having been so much ashamed of
+some of her unpractised mistakes.
+
+One littleness, though, he could not help clinging to. It was
+still a great satisfaction to him, that the dreaded discovery had
+not been gossipped amongst his servants. He would of all things
+have disliked that the daily talk of those from whom he looked
+for habitual respect, should turn upon the fact of their mistress
+having been, what they would call, “no better than themselves.”
+As for the world, he knew enough of it to be aware that there his
+principal difficulties and dangers were past. The world had been
+peculiarly disposed to criticise the first debût of a new denizen
+nearly connected with one to whose taste that world had long yielded
+a forced allegiance. Another season, and detraction would find some
+more stirring game than one so inoffensive as Lucy.
+
+Amidst these topics for satisfaction, almost for self-gratulation,
+one unpleasant doubt did obtrude itself. Though the care of the world
+would no longer molest his enjoyment, was he quite certain that he
+should himself continue perfectly contented with the success of his
+experiment? Was she the companion he required? He started in anger
+at himself as this hitherto fleeting and shapeless suspicion assumed
+the form of a substantial doubt, and, as chasing it impatiently
+away, he cast upon her a look of affection and encouragement, she
+best answered the appeal, and removed for the time all traces of
+painful impression, by discussing with ease and spirit the pleasure
+she should derive from again beholding Somersby, and recalling
+with accuracy the favourite spots within his domain which they had
+together frequented, during their last residence there. As these
+were the outward images then uppermost in his mind, he gladly
+obliterated, in this fortunate reciprocity, those ideas which had
+before intruded themselves.
+
+The circumstances of the first few days at Somersby, seemed to
+continue the illusion, (if illusion it was,) that the qualifications
+of his partner for life left him nothing to desire. The weather
+was beautiful, and with elastic step and cheerful countenance she
+accompanied him every where, participating in all his plans and
+entering into all his improvements. But persons, however strong,
+cannot stroll through the whole day; and Lucy before she left London
+had, with good reason, been recommended not to over fatigue herself;
+so a pony-phaeton was put in requisition, and this enabled them to
+extend their excursions, and protract their enjoyment; but our fickle
+climate will sometimes frown on pony-phaetons even in August. There
+came a wet week, and they were confined to the house, and immured in
+the library. This was an unlucky _locale_ for Lucy; but it had always
+been used as the common morning-room, and she felt lonely if she did
+not see Castleton, even though _his_ eyes were fixed on his book.
+
+Had Castleton been alone, his study would have been all-sufficient
+to him; but being, as it were, thus continually in company, there
+was hardly any thing he read, by which some train of thought was not
+awakened in his ever active imagination, which he longed at once to
+communicate. It was not that he was anxious captiously to criticise,
+or to find fault, but he was often eager to illustrate and to impart
+the beauties that struck him; and as, with this desire, he looked
+upon his uninformed companion, he felt the hopelessness of such an
+attempt. If it was a book of science, in vain would he comment upon
+the extension of that, of which she neither knew the rudiments nor
+the terms--if of fiction, equally beyond her reach were the least
+soaring flights of fancy--if of satire, she was equally little
+cognizant of the persons portrayed, or aware of the foibles for
+which they were ridiculed. He had once before indulged in the social
+custom of blending conversation with his reading; the precedent was
+an ominous one. It had been at Rome. When persons familiarly known
+to each other live under the same roof in a foreign hotel, their
+intercourse is naturally on an easy footing, and much time will
+sometimes be spent together by that facility of gliding, unasked, in
+and out of apartments, which never could have been demanded under
+the well-drilled form of “a knock-and-ring” London visit. When
+the intimacy of friendship thus confirms the interest of a warmer
+feeling, it is a delightful, but a dangerous habit.
+
+Castleton had in this manner spent the most of many mornings in
+Lady Gayland’s. They did not then think it necessary, under these
+circumstances, always to talk, to the exclusion of books; but
+they often found it agreeable to mix up reciprocal remarks on
+their reading. And some of these most animated and interesting
+discussions had arisen out of casual observations excited by some
+passage which had forcibly struck them in the perusal; and whether
+these conversations took the turn of excited enthusiasm, or refined
+criticism, their uniform effect was, that the parties engaged in them
+separated mutually better pleased with each other. In the course of
+the last week, Castleton had frequently ventured, in some of the
+lighter works with which he had been engaged, to read short extracts
+to Lucy, explaining and recommending the whole book to her perusal.
+This desire she always immediately complied with; but her attention
+was ever fixed, and her memory exerted in the discovery of these
+particular passages, which he happened accidentally to have cited;
+and, in this pursuit, her eye would wander over whole lines of print,
+as a traveller would over lines of hedge and ditch by the road side,
+noting nothing by the way, in search of one only object.
+
+The fact was, as has been stated before, that her mother had
+always, at that age when the taste is acquired, discouraged reading
+as unprofitable. And her aunt, not feeling herself at liberty to
+interfere directly with the system of her mother, had rather selected
+passages adapted to her capacity, and facilitated even these by
+her explanations, than encouraged her in any independent course of
+reading. Alice Darnell’s plan had had the effect upon her niece’s
+mind, of a sort of intellectual “swimming in corks.” Now deprived of
+this artificial aid, she felt more than ever, the utter helplessness
+of her ignorance. She had been enabled by these means to dabble
+gracefully in shallows; but was utterly incapable of venturing
+unassisted on the wide ocean of knowledge.
+
+A week had passed in this way; the mornings and most of the evenings
+devoted to study on the part of Castleton, and the same time consumed
+by Lucy, in vain attempts to toil after him in the few books, which,
+on reading himself, he thought it possible to recommend to her. She
+had, in making the effort, no other object in view, but endeavouring
+to please him, by appearing to understand his remarks; and in this
+she had too often failed; for, though gratified, at first, by
+thinking that she had remarked the same points which had struck him,
+he was again disappointed, when he went on to ask her opinion upon
+other parts, which perhaps had made as strong an impression upon
+himself, though, from the consciousness that she was unacquainted
+with the book, he had not communicated that impression. He sometimes
+found, that except those passages to which he had directed her
+attention, all the rest of the work, connected with which these
+isolated passages acquired a redoubled value, had produced no more
+effect upon her, than if her eyes had never glanced over its pages.
+
+One afternoon, he had accidentally taken up the “Promessi Sposi” of
+Manzoni, (that only child of the old age of Italian literature.) The
+copy in his hand was the original one, which he had not seen since he
+had first read it with delight in Italy. The marks that had either
+been made by himself, or another, of admiration of the most sterling,
+though, perhaps, not the most palpable beauties of this work of true
+genius, were still visible upon the pages before him, and recalled
+the scene, and the occasions on which they were made; and when the
+thought recurred, but for his own over-fastidious feeling, and
+perverted imagination, what might now have been his lot, he turned on
+Lucy a look, in which disappointment was perhaps too legibly written;
+for she interpreted it at once into a desire for some change; and
+imagining such to be his wish, she asked him if he did not think “it
+was now fine enough to take a stroll out of doors?”
+
+The weather had certainly shown symptoms of settling; the clouds
+had first lightened, then dispersed; and now the sun, successfully
+struggling through the dappled sky, already played on the sparkling
+drops, which the gentle breeze began to shake from the dripping
+leaves.
+
+Castleton rose from his chair, glad to snap the chain of thought
+which bound his spirit to no good purpose; and throwing up the
+window, the enjoyment of all external sources of pleasure seemed
+suddenly restored.
+
+Every inducement combined to tempt them forth. The mingled odour of
+the freshened herbage, and of the grateful flower-garden beneath,
+breathed through the atmosphere one varied fragrance. The cheerful
+song of the feathered tribe sounded as an irresistible invitation to
+all living things, to share with them in rejoicing at the restored
+reign of nature.
+
+“Yes, dear Lucy,” said Castleton, encircling her waist, “get on your
+bonnet, and we shall have a delightful walk.”
+
+As he said this, the grinding of carriage-wheels through the
+rain-soaked gravel was heard, and a well-packed travelling equipage
+appeared in sight.
+
+“O, I do believe that is Lady Gayland,” said Lucy, clapping her hands
+with delight, “and now you won’t want for amusement.”
+
+And Lady Gayland it certainly was. She had been expected shortly,
+but the precise day was not known; and as she had paid another visit
+since she left town--and no lady was ever expected to comprehend the
+irregularities of a cross-country post--her arrival before her own
+announcement of herself was very pardonable.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER IX.
+
+                         The mellow Autumn came,
+            And with it came the promised guest.
+
+                         There’s not an hour
+            Of day or dreaming night, but I am with thee;
+            There’s not a wind but whispers of thy name;
+            And not a flower that sleeps beneath the moon,
+            But in its hues or fragrance tells a tale
+            Of thee.
+
+            Thou canst not teach me to forget.
+
+
+How slight and almost imperceptible a change of position, how small
+and almost unintentional a step in advance, will sometimes suddenly
+open our eyes to the inevitable tendency of a course of conduct
+which we have been, up to that point, pursuing in blind security!
+Lady Gayland, acute and clear-sighted as she was for others, was
+in her own case often the creature of impulse, acting without
+consideration, upon the first generous feeling, and reasoning upon
+its collateral bearings when too late to retract.
+
+The carriage had been checked a moment for admission, at the spot
+where the lodge leading to Somersby-park was situated, on the great
+road. “Ah! _nous voila donc, Miladi_,” exclaimed Angelique to her
+mistress, thus breaking the confused reverie in which that lady had
+long been indulging.
+
+“_Nous voila donc_, indeed,” thought Lady Gayland, as the iron
+gates opened to receive them; “and strange indeed that it should be
+so:” and for the first time all those reasons which rendered it so
+peculiarly strange, that she should, under such circumstances, be
+Castleton’s guest, forced themselves upon her attention the more
+irresistibly, that they had been so long suppressed or avoided. True,
+the ostensible motives of her visit were plausible enough. Her
+early acquaintance with Lucy, and subsequent renewal of it, under
+circumstances which had entailed a continuance of that protection
+of her, which, in the first instant, she had beneficially extended,
+the exclusive confidence which Lucy had reposed in her, the helpless
+dependence which she had expressed upon her advice and assistance;
+the anxiety with which she clung to her companionship as her best
+hope of happiness,--all these would have rendered her presence of the
+utmost service to any but the wife of Castleton.
+
+Castleton’s manner to her in London had never been such as
+necessarily to excite suspicion that his feelings were not subdued.
+The two strongest exceptions to the general discipline of his
+deportment have been given--the one, their first meeting at Lady
+Delacour’s ball--the other, his anxious inquiry at the opera after a
+certain gentleman whom he had left at Naples. But his usual manner
+towards her was calm, apparently unconstrained, and even common-place.
+
+Lady Gayland, as she never occupied herself much with the concerns
+of others, was not perfectly aware of the rapidity with which the
+heartless and the fickle can sometimes, in the sunshine of society,
+force the artificial growth of indifference; yet she had heard
+instances, when, without explanation, hands that had last been
+pressed to throbbing hearts, had next met in the lifeless contact
+of common courtesy, and lips which had last tremblingly faltered
+forth a passionate farewell, when next seen had without emotion been
+compressed into a cold and simpering greeting.
+
+But though Lady Gayland knew that such things had been--though there
+was nothing obtrusively obvious in Castleton’s manner to herself,
+to contradict, and every thing in the mere act of his subsequent
+marriage to confirm, the idea that he furnished another instance of
+the easy forgetfulness of man, yet had she no internal conviction of
+that kind by which to regulate her conduct.
+
+To those gifted individuals who unite acute sensibility with keen
+observation, and have ever brought those rarely united powers of
+the mind and heart to bear upon the conduct and character of a
+beloved object, there are open many hidden sources utterly unmarked
+by the million, from which the most infallible impressions are
+derived. It may be the accent of a casual word, dropped in common
+conversation, or the character of a stolen glance, darted through
+mingling crowds; which in spite of intervening years, and altered
+circumstances--opportunities apparently neglected, and other
+engagements since contracted, in defiance of all probability, and
+in opposition to almost undeniable evidence,--will vibrate to the
+inmost recesses of the heart, the certain consciousness that all is
+not forgotten. And such a consciousness had Lady Gayland sometimes,
+in spite of herself, felt that Castleton had not even yet become
+indifferent to her. All the scattered indications from which she
+collected this conviction, and which she had hitherto as much as
+possible driven from her mind, now presented themselves one after
+another to her recollection, as her carriage whirled rapidly towards
+the front of the house.
+
+“And why, then, am I here?” she asked herself, now the question came
+too late. Half the debates in the secret conclave of the human mind
+are conducted after the question has been put and carried; and reason
+often returns after the event, in company with repentance, instead of
+sticking (to speak parliamentarily) to his, proper _pair_, decision.
+
+In this instance, Lady Gayland’s somewhat tardy self-inquiry, “Why
+am I here,” was answered by Lucy, who, as the door of the carriage
+opened, rushed down the steps to greet her with--
+
+“O how delighted I am to see you! how good it is of you to come, and
+even sooner than we expected you!”
+
+Castleton’s reception of Lady Gayland was exactly what might be
+expected from a practised man of the world, who had had time, since
+seeing her carriage from the window, to prepare for appearing as glad
+to see her as became him, without betraying how much more than that
+quantum of satisfaction he might feel.
+
+As Lucy, at his desire, conducted Lady Gayland to her own apartment,
+she repeated, as she clung fondly to her arm,--
+
+“I’m so very glad you are come; and so, I can assure you, is
+Castleton also, though, perhaps, you don’t think he shows it enough;
+but he has been rather dull, poring over books morning and evening,
+for we have had sad wet weather: but now you are come, you can talk
+to him as he likes, and he will soon be gay again.”
+
+When Lucy was returning, having left Lady Gayland in her own room,
+an accident occurred which led to much conversation in one part
+of the house, though its effect was not immediately known in the
+drawing-room. In passing through the gallery she met Lady Gayland’s
+maid, Ma’amselle Angelique, whom she had not seen since their drive
+from Hornscliff to Mayton. In the good-natured impulse of the moment,
+Lucy, only recollecting that the person before her had once been kind
+to her, when she needed kindness, seized her hand with warmth, saying,
+
+“How do you do; I am very glad to see you again.”
+
+At first Angelique drew back confused, thinking there must be some
+mistake.
+
+“Pardon, Miladi, ce n’est que moi.--Mon Dieu! mais est il possible!
+la petite de _poni chaise_. Ah! milles pardons, miladi, si j’ose un
+instant me rappeller de vous.” And with her best curtsey she passed
+on, leaving Lucy, with the returning consciousness that she had
+betrayed herself in a manner that would not be pleasing to Castleton.
+
+Angelique began at once to touch upon her discovery to her mistress,
+but there she found her garrulity more suddenly checked than it
+usually was on indifferent subjects. At the same time, as Lady
+Gayland knew that, by making a mystery, she would only increase the
+desire to communicate, she laid no injunctions of silence upon her
+attendant, who, accordingly, as soon as dismissed, went down into
+the housekeeper’s room, with--
+
+“De ting if the world the most astonish! Je suis petrifie. I was made
+a stone. Je n’en reviens plus--and I never come back from it more.”
+
+This of course led to much further cross-questioning and gossipping,
+and Castleton had first the happiness of finding how generally the
+story was known, when, some little time afterward, he found fault
+with his housekeeper for some deficiency in her duty, she excused
+herself under the pretence of having meant to please “my lady.” And
+when Castleton rather pettishly replied, that he desired she would
+not think of consulting my lady on that sort of subject, he was
+punished by her impudently adding,
+
+“To be sure, my Lord, I don’t suppose my Lady is like to know what’s
+what.”
+
+When, upon this, he indignantly asked what she meant by such
+impertinence, to get herself out of the scrape, the blame was,
+naturally enough, laid on Mamselle Angelique, both as a strange
+servant and a foreigner, and the whole story thus came out.
+
+During the social intercourse of the succeeding days, the effort
+was equally made by Castleton and Lady Gayland, so to conduct the
+course of their conversation, that Lucy might be enabled to bear them
+company. But it evidently, to all parties, was an effort; and not
+always a successful one. Sometimes irresistibly borne along by the
+current of old recollections, Castleton and his guest were launched
+into the wide sea of imagination--an element into which Lucy was not
+fitted to follow them; she, therefore, was soon stranded by the way,
+and sat watching them in silent security.
+
+But there was one casual circumstance that contributed to throw Lady
+Gayland more exclusively into the society of her former friend.
+Whilst they were in the house, of course wherever she was, there
+Lucy was likewise. But, as has been before observed, Lady Gayland
+was passionately fond of riding: Lucy, on the contrary, never much
+used to it, and always timid on horseback, was at present prevented
+from attempting to mount, by reasons which are understood in all
+families. But Castleton had upon their marriage provided her with a
+delightful horse, and this she now pressed Lady Gayland to use. This,
+to one who had all her life been an inveterate horse-woman, was too
+tempting an offer to be refused, and accompanied by Castleton, she
+made the trial of the new horse, which seemed to have been attended
+with great success, for from that time their promenades were repeated
+daily,--the weather continuing as propitious, as it had been
+unfavourable before the arrival of the visitor.
+
+What shall we call that state of sympathy, which, while it seems
+too serious to settle into a mere flirtation, is as yet by no means
+systematized into a _liaison_? But call it what we may, that is the
+peculiar stage, when there is nothing so dangerous as a _tête-a-tête_
+on horseback. Whilst every advance is still attended with doubt and
+incertitude, the attempt is encouraged by apparent facilities of
+retreat; in a room, the moment, which must come sooner or later,
+when the door will have to be opened and closed behind one of the
+parties, is always a matter of dread, and in anticipation, checks
+many a hasty move; but here there is no such awkward epoch to come.
+All is every instant changing around. An affected stumble on the part
+of the horse, may conceal a real false step of his rider; and an ill
+received hint, may be obliterated in a canter.
+
+But to speak seriously, there is something in a _tête-a-tête_ ride
+through a fine country, which, when a predisposition to confidence
+between man and woman has existed, considerably tends to ripen it.
+As to Castleton and his guest, their relative situation was such,
+as to leave them nothing to confide. They had neither of them any
+designs to advance, but if they could not thus avail themselves of
+the advantages of the present, it was unfortunate that they should
+have so apt an occasion to regret the past, for it was thus they
+had wandered in other days, beneath southern skies, with brighter
+prospects, and with better hopes.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER X.
+
+                             For it so falls out
+           That what we have we prize not to the worth,
+           Whiles we enjoy it; but, being lacked and lost,
+           Why then we rack the value.
+                                                      SHAKSPEARE.
+
+                             Whilst I remember
+           Her and her virtues, I cannot forget
+           My blemishes in them, and so still think of
+           The wrong I did myself.
+
+
+This mode of life had continued for many more days than either of
+them would retrospectively have imagined to have elapsed since its
+commencement. And in the course of it many topics which should have
+been altogether avoided, had every day imperceptibly been approached
+more nearly, and with greater effort evaded.
+
+One day Lady Gayland, principally from a desire to fix her attention
+upon some extraneous and indifferent subject, had requested to be
+allowed in their next ride to mount Castleton’s own horse, instead
+of the more docile creature procured for Lucy, which she pronounced
+too sluggish. Castleton was at first rather afraid to assent, as
+his beautiful animal, though perfectly tractable under his skilful
+management, had only lately exchanged the turf for the road. But as
+the groom reported that the essay of the petticoat had been perfectly
+satisfactory, and as Lady Gayland was a most fearless horse-woman,
+the exchange, at her repeated request, was made on their next
+excursion.
+
+They had, in consequence of the novelty of the experiment, started
+with the intention, at Castleton’s desire, of riding more quietly
+and carefully; and as they strolled slowly onwards, insensibly their
+attention had been transferred from the horse to their discourse,
+which was much the more animated of the two, as no animal is more
+sleepy than a spirited horse will sometimes be, when left to himself,
+with the reins upon his neck.
+
+The origin of this, as of many other interesting conversations, was
+common place. We need not, perhaps, travel even so far back as when,
+in reply to some disclaimer on Lady Gayland’s part, Castleton said,
+“You know what Byron sings--
+
+    ‘No friend like to a woman earth discovers.’”
+
+“Ay, but remember,” interrupted Lady Gayland, “the proviso he adds:
+
+    ‘So that they have not been, nor will be----’
+
+what?--what is the word whose indispensable presence at the point of
+the stanza alone, excuses such a botching rhyme as _discovers_?”
+
+“_Lovers_,” answered Castleton. “To be sure he says they should never
+have been, but then I think it was his own negative experience,
+limiting his opinion of the social qualities of poor human nature
+which warped his judgment. In introducing my quotation I should have
+said _even_ Byron sings--for I think he never had, nor I think was it
+in his nature to have, a female friend.”
+
+“His sister--”
+
+“He was a kind and a grateful brother to a fond and an indulgent
+sister, that was all.”
+
+“Poor Byron! who so philosophic a guide for others? who so practical
+a blunderer for himself in search of the sources of happiness?”
+
+“Others without his talent to commemorate their wayward
+inconsistencies, may have thought as deeply and mistaken as
+thoroughly,” answered Castleton, in a tone of bitterness.
+
+“A female friend! ’tis almost an impossibility,” continued Lady
+Gayland, still generalizing the conversation; “at what stage of our
+existence could such a feeling take its date? As a girl? No! You men
+generally treat girls either as flirts or fools, and wilfully shut
+your eyes to the study of that character of which a special licence
+is to be the diploma. So mankind to girls are divided into the
+marrying and non-marrying classes. With the first, friendship would
+appear forward; with the latter, lost time. As a wife?--Possibly some
+men might. But I think you, for instance, would not like your wife to
+maintain a perfect and unreserved friendship with another man? No; in
+neither case would it do.”
+
+“But yourself,” interrupted Castleton, “you need not be restrained by
+any of the embarrassments of either of the stations you mention?”
+
+“No; and at fifty perhaps I may think about it; but let us if
+possible avoid to speak individually. There is only one relation in
+life in which a woman may be peerless and perfect, and luckily that
+is as a wife. A mistress’s present career is made up of regret for
+the past and fear for the future; a female friend content to be no
+more, is an anomaly rarely found. A wife may unite all that is most
+estimable in friendship, with so much more than that cold feeling can
+ever know, that it would be the veriest bathos to degrade a wife to
+the title of friend.”
+
+“Yet some wives can never be friends, and now, alas! some friends can
+never become wives.”
+
+“A woman’s part in courtship is, you must recollect, a passive one;
+we must ever wait till we are asked.”
+
+“Yet who but a fool or a coxcomb would ever venture a proposal unless
+pretty certain that his suit would not be displeasing; and does not
+that render it equivalent to a refusal, when a woman tortures by
+indications of indifference? What would I now give that you had never
+misled me!”
+
+“Lord Castleton, I will not say how much I regret that you should
+have introduced a subject which may interrupt our intercourse. For
+that your society is agreeable to me, I wonder you should ever have
+doubted; but it does not _now_ become me to make either professions
+or disclaimers on that subject. It is only to excuse, not to revive,
+the past, that I now speak. This is the last time that former days
+must ever be mentioned between us. How did I then mislead you?”
+
+“I know that I ought not to have recurred to this topic, nor, believe
+me, had I any previous intention of doing so; but now it is as well
+that I should explain, in doing which I own there may be more to
+excuse in myself than to blame in you. But you knew me thoroughly--my
+over sensitive fastidious nature; why then did you torture me with an
+apparent preference of Frank Melmoth? I knew that he was every way
+unworthy of you, but I construed your whole conduct into an internal
+struggle between your judgment, which still held out on my side, and
+your heart, which had already yielded to him.”
+
+“Would any man but yourself have so interpreted it? Do you believe
+even Frank Melmoth, with all his coxcombry, so read it?”
+
+“Perhaps not; but still he was indefatigable in persuading me
+that such was the construction all parties must put upon your
+conduct. Trifles light as air are, you know, sometimes--I need
+not particularize--the earliest violets which I had promised, and
+procured for you, were boastfully displayed in his button-hole at
+the ball, the same evening. Eager for an explanation, you refused
+the request I therefore made to be set down at home by you, yet
+afterwards you consented to convey him. The next night at the opera
+was my last, and served to convince me, that your preference upon
+all indifferent points was decidedly his, and that if there was still
+a doubt upon your mind, it was my position, not my personal merits,
+which maintained it.”
+
+“And if the first part of your supposition had been well founded,
+think not your position would have maintained that doubt a moment.
+But, first, to answer your last instance; had I conveyed you home,
+who had a carriage of your own in attendance, it would have been a
+measure--and how much I might be aware that you were anxious for an
+explanation--it was not my business so pointedly to facilitate it.
+When afterwards the poor, needy, half-drowned creature begged for
+a lift, it would have been positive cruelty to have sent him under
+the spouts in such a deluge as was then pouring down. Besides, do
+you not know, with us women there is no such universal patentee of
+exclusive privileges as indifference. As to your other accusation,
+the transfer of your flowers, in that, too, I was perfectly
+innocent. They were left by you upon my table. You know how easy the
+entrance into apartments at an hotel abroad always is. Frank Melmoth
+volunteered a visit--I was in my own room. My spirits, so far as
+society is concerned, seldom fail me; but I own I did then feel quite
+unequal to receive him. A long time has elapsed, and too many changes
+occurred since then, for it to be expected that I should recollect
+exactly what the reflections were which then overpowered me; but as
+if it were but yesterday, the feelings which then so unnerved me, are
+even now as then fresh before me--but I have strength to drive them
+hence. One word in concluding my explanation: I sent an excuse to
+Melmoth, declining to see him: in revenge, he carried off my violets,
+leaving me instead a few doggrel couplets, which I own I do not
+recollect so well as the other parts of the transaction; but,” added
+she, forcing a smile, “I know there was a string of rhymes, something
+about flowers--hours--powers.--I have done----
+
+   ‘The very head and front of my offending
+    Hath this extent. No more.’”--
+
+“Fool! dolt! idiot that I am!” exclaimed Castleton. “For this, then,
+and no more, have I, with all my boasted superior discrimination,
+cast aside my happiness for ever.”
+
+“Nay,” said Lady Gayland, “I must not even now permit you to speak
+thus: nor ever allow myself to touch on these topics again. And now
+let us turn our own and our horses’ heads homewards. You have a home,
+and to that ’tis time we bend both our thoughts and our course.”
+
+So saying, and anxious at once to close the conversation, her
+impatience as a woman got the better of her usual discretion as an
+equestrian. Turning her horse round, she at the same time struck him
+smartly with her whip. Thus unexpectedly roused from that torpor, in
+which perhaps he had been indulging visions of former triumphs on the
+turf, and fancying that the same exertions were required of him, the
+fiery animal started eagerly forward. She checked him firmly with the
+curb; but, unused to the severity of that bit, this only made him
+plunge so violently, as to require all her presence of mind and skill
+in riding to maintain her seat.
+
+“For heaven’s sake let me take hold of his head, and change with me
+again!” anxiously exclaimed Castleton, jumping off for that purpose.
+But in violently shaking his head, in impatience at the sharpness
+of the bit, Lady Gayland’s horse had detached the curb-chain from
+the hook: this dangling loose, only maddened him the more; he became
+perfectly unmanageable, and after plunging three or four times, more
+furiously than ever, though without unseating, or even agitating her,
+whose courage rose with the emergency, he at length brought down his
+head, and bearing upon the now powerless bit with a dead, determined
+pull, he bounded irresistibly onwards at full speed over the echoing
+turf.
+
+What state of mental suspense could equal, in agony, that of
+Castleton during these dreadful moments? What, compared to his
+feelings, are those of the patient whilst the surgeon is sharpening
+his knife? or of the self-conscious criminal, when the death-bearing
+verdict is about to be pronounced? For let us do poor human nature
+the justice to own, that the fear-fraught sensations of such a moment
+far surpass in intensity those which any merely selfish sufferings
+could produce. This might still have been the case had he been only
+the friend he professed himself: but he was never so well aware how
+much dearer she was to him than he would have owned to himself, as
+when even the recently-acquired conviction, that by his folly he
+had lost her heart, was superseded by the all-engrossing fear, that
+by his indiscretion he had endangered her life. And in his anguish
+he felt that there was no earthly sacrifice at which he would not
+purchase her precious safety.
+
+At the time Lady Gayland’s horse broke away, he had already
+dismounted, which caused a moment’s delay in following her. His
+first impulse was digging his spurs into his own more sluggish beast
+to attempt to come up with her. But he was too well aware of the
+comparative speed of the two animals, which had before been tried on
+other fields, not to know that this was impracticable, as long as
+the fleetest and the foremost spurned from beneath him the ground he
+hardly seemed to touch. Therefore, with eyes constantly fixed on the
+object of all his anxieties, and a countenance as haggard as if the
+dreaded calamity had already happened, he had only to follow as best
+he might, pressing to the utmost his own panting steed.
+
+There were various extensive grass-rides between avenues in the
+wide-spreading domains of Somersby Park; but as these intersected the
+open space of turf, and as Lady Gayland’s horse, in its self-directed
+course, had either to cross or break into these between the trees,
+each was a fresh source of alarm to Castleton. But as yet, his
+undaunted rider still maintaining her self-possession, had succeeded
+so far in guiding him as to steer him clear of any of these dangers.
+At last he rushed into the long avenue which conducted straight to
+the front of the house. Thus, therefore, many perils were now past,
+but the worst Castleton anticipated was still to be feared, from
+the concussion with which, sooner or later, his speed must meet a
+sudden check; and this dread increased as he marked how, without
+the slightest symptom of tiring, he still pursued his passionate
+career. What would not Castleton have given at that moment for wings,
+to dart over the short but still increasing space between them? so
+disgusted was he with the inadequate efforts of his own flagging and
+jaded animal, that he even madly meditated throwing himself off, and
+endeavouring by his own exertions to reach her.
+
+Within a hundred yards of the front of the house, the flying steed
+had now arrived in safety, and Lady Gayland was already collecting
+all her remaining strength to pull him up with one last attempt,
+without recollecting that at that point a by-path conducted through
+a shrubbery, at right-angles to the stables. For this the horse made,
+with a sudden spring sideways. Lady Gayland, little prepared for so
+unexpected a turn, lost her balance, and as the jerk she had at the
+same time given caused him to flounder in the same direction, she
+had not opportunity to recover herself, and was thrown with violence
+against the shrubs on one side of the road.
+
+Castleton, from the angle that the road had taken, and the thickness
+of the shrubbery, had not actually seen the accident, but arriving a
+few seconds afterwards, with horror he beheld her lying apparently
+lifeless on the spot where she had fallen.
+
+Throwing himself from his own horse, and rushing to her, he raised
+her gently in his arms, and laying her head on his shoulder whilst
+he supported her waist with his trembling hand, he gazed anxiously
+in her face, to mark the least symptom of returning animation, but
+as yet she lay there with the stiffness of a corpse; her eyes were
+completely closed, and their long dark lashes seemed to press upon
+her cheek. “She’s dead,--she’s dead, and I have killed her!” he
+wildly cried. As he said this, her eyes for an instant opened, though
+only with a dull unconscious stare; and the hand he held, grasped
+his convulsively. “Look up once again!--For my sake live, my best
+beloved, my own adored Geraldine!” He paused in vain, hoping that
+these passionate exclamations might again wake her into life. A deep
+drawn breath from behind was the only sound which in reply struck
+upon his ear. He turned round in the direction from whence that sound
+proceeded, and within two paces of him--colourless and motionless as
+a statue--beheld the figure of his wife!
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XI.
+
+           This may be Nature: when our friends we lose,
+           Our altered feelings alter to our views;
+           What in their tempers teazed us, or distressed,
+           Is with our anger, and the dead, at rest.
+           And much we grieve, no longer trial made,
+           For that impatience which we then displayed.
+           Now to their love, and worth of every kind,
+           A soft compunction turns the afflicted mind;
+           Virtues neglected then, adored become,
+           And graces slighted, blossom on the tomb.
+                                                          CRABBE.
+
+
+Lucy had been standing at the window of her own apartment, watching
+for the return of the equestrians, and from hence she had first
+seen with amazement the pace at which Lady Gayland was returning;
+Castleton not, as usual, attending closely on her, but lingering some
+distance in the rear. It was not till she had seen the violent manner
+in which the horse had bolted for the stables, that the truth broke
+upon her. She then became dreadfully alarmed, and would have been
+at once upon the spot, but that her agitation impeded her tottering
+steps.
+
+Castleton was, as may be supposed, painfully anxious to ascertain
+whether Lucy had heard the unguarded expressions which he had
+incautiously dropped, but there was nothing in her immediately
+subsequent conduct, from which he could form a guess whether this
+had been so or not. She assisted with zeal and alacrity in every
+thing that was necessary to be attempted to bring Lady Gayland to her
+senses, and arranged, in concurrence with Castleton, the manner in
+which she had best be conveyed to the house.
+
+The servants had by this time collected, upon the alarm of seeing the
+two horses return without riders to the stables. The removal to the
+house was effected without difficulty, which seemed to confirm the
+hope that no limb was fractured; and in the shortest possible space
+of time, the best medical advice was procured. The surgeon expressed
+a fear, from the state of torpor in which she remained, that there
+might be a concussion of the brain, and, above all things, enjoined
+the strictest quiet, and that she should be left to the care of her
+own maid.
+
+It was not till Lucy was thus dismissed from any further attendance,
+that she owned that she herself was far from well; though, indeed,
+her countenance (now first observed) showed that she was suffering
+acute pain; all that night she was in considerable danger, and the
+next morning produced the premature birth of a dead child.
+
+Castleton, kind and affectionate in his nature, was, as may well be
+supposed, driven almost distracted by her fearful state; aggravated
+as his anxieties were, by the idea that he had himself been the cause
+of the calamity. During some of the moments in which it was thought
+most doubtful how it might end, Lucy kept constantly repeating to her
+husband, “It was only the fright--it was the fright. I thought she
+was killed, and that frightened me so--but that was all:” and this
+anxious disavowal of any other cause of agitation, made Castleton
+only the more fear that it was too probable she had heard the
+expressions into which his alarm had betrayed him.
+
+Perhaps the perfect quiet in which Lady Gayland was necessarily left,
+contributed as much as any thing to her progressive recovery. Lucy
+was, of course, unable for some time to go near her, and she availed
+herself of the strict rules of English decorum, to exclude Castleton
+also, as long as she was confined to her own room.
+
+As soon as she was sufficiently re-established to be able to move,
+Lady Gayland announced that circumstances prevented her from any
+longer delaying her departure. She took an affectionate leave of
+Lucy, and an unmarked farewell of Castleton. In answer to Lucy’s
+inquiries, whether she still felt any ill effects from her fall, she
+replied in the negative; professing, at the same time, that she had
+no particular recollection of the circumstances which accompanied
+the accident. This oblivion, if real, was fortunate; if assumed, was
+judicious.
+
+Castleton and Lucy were thus once more left alone, and had she really
+been all in all to him, he could not more tenderly and anxiously
+have watched over her slowly returning strength. Before she was by
+any means restored to health, this tranquil state was broken in
+upon by a melancholy piece of intelligence, which, under present
+circumstances, affected Lucy more deeply, perhaps, than would be
+imagined by those of my gentle readers who have attended to the
+incidents of her early life. A letter arrived from her aunt Alice,
+announcing the sudden death of her mother.
+
+The end of Mrs. Darnell had been in some respects characteristic. It
+will be recollected, that her neighbours were few and distant; and
+those she had, she did not often visit, excepting one, a farmer’s
+wife, who had, in the time of high prices, indulged in luxuries,
+which Mrs. Darnell had always thought sinful. Having heard that this
+woman’s daughter, a pretty boarding-school miss, had eloped from a
+country town with a cornet, Mrs. Darnell could not deny herself the
+satisfaction of going over, as she said, to condole with her; though
+in reality to impress upon her, how the _edication_ which _she_ had
+given _her_ daughter had just fitted her to be a lady of the land.
+
+The length of this lecture, during the whole of which she had sat in
+wet clothes, brought on an inflammatory cold, in the early stages
+of which she had grudged herself a doctor, and in the more advanced
+period of the disease she had got up and gone down thrice to see the
+shamefu’ dinner that Richard had ordered Betty to dress for him,
+“which,” she said, “was just of a piece with all the rest.” This was
+her last grievance; for, by her ill-timed, economical imprudence, she
+had brought on a typhus fever, of which in a few days she had fallen
+the victim.
+
+This event was a severe shock to Lucy. Mrs. Darnell was in no respect
+a bad, though an unamiable woman; and in the endearing relation of
+mother and daughter, it was impossible that, with such a child as
+Lucy, there should not have been many moments which had left an
+impression stronger than that of her habitual irritation of temper.
+Besides, in these cases, the mind is a sort of intellectual virtuoso,
+collecting and treasuring up, in proportion to their rarity, any
+traits of kindness which death has stamped with the fictitious value
+of reliques. On more general grounds, this melancholy event depressed
+Lucy severely. The abrupt manner in which she had heard of the
+catastrophe, proved to her how complete was her isolation from the
+home of her childhood, how absolute her separation from all those to
+whom formerly her every hour had been devoted, and with whom every
+care had been divided. She had always considered her parting with her
+family as only temporary, but this showed that, whilst with so few
+interests in common, communications were so rare between them, their
+parting had been transformed into a final one, without that warning
+which might have enabled her to have been present at its termination,
+or, at any rate, have somewhat prepared her to meet the worst with
+fortitude.
+
+It was on her mother that this first blow had fallen; the same might
+shortly be the case with her father. The letter, which announced
+her mother’s death, contained little more than a recital of the
+melancholy event, and of the circumstances which had attended it;
+in the next communication, however, which she received shortly
+after from her aunt, much mention was made of her father’s lonely
+situation, and she learned how frequently he dwelt upon the privation
+of his dear child’s society, a loss which he now so deeply felt.
+Feeble as Lucy still was, this excited an immediate and anxious
+desire to go to him without delay, and she pressed her request upon
+Castleton more earnestly than she had previously done any wish, of
+the favourable reception of which she was not certain. Castleton
+was too much touched with her present depression of spirits, and,
+consequently, too anxious to accede to any desire of hers, to start
+any other difficulty than his fears that her strength might not be
+equal to the undertaking.
+
+Morden Bay, it will be recollected, was in a very remote and secluded
+situation: there was only one carriage road to it, the same by which
+the pic-nic party had returned to Hornscliff, and that, besides being
+very rough and difficult, was exactly in an opposite direction to
+the place at which they were at present residing. It was difficult,
+therefore, to arrange the method of putting her views into execution,
+whilst she was still so far from being perfectly recovered, that even
+an easy journey would not have been undertaken without fatigue.
+
+As soon as she could bear the attempt, a plan occurred to Castleton,
+by which the difficult part of the undertaking might be overcome.
+There was a little sea-bathing place, called Sandford, at about forty
+miles distant from Morden Bay, considerably nearer to Somersby, and
+here his friend, Lord Stayinmore, had his yacht in waiting for him,
+in case he should come back that way from his grouse-shooting in
+Scotland.
+
+Lord Stayinmore was one of those persons, who, with unlimited powers
+to multiply their luxuries, often find that there is one thing which
+they cannot purchase, which is, the time necessary to the successive
+enjoyment of them all. This was quite the case in the present
+instance. Whilst staying at Cowes, he had been seized with a sudden
+fancy to have a yacht, and belong to the Royal Yacht Club. He had
+immediately purchased, at an exorbitant price, the fastest sailer;
+but this year the grouse had tempted him into Scotland; and as his
+shooting-box is in the Central Highlands, whilst “he lies amongst the
+moors,” his yacht was ordered to anchor in some port in the north of
+England, in case he should wish for a sail, upon his return.
+
+It was not very agreeable to Castleton to ask a favour from a man
+of Lord Stayinmore’s character; but the circumstances of the case
+induced him to get over his delicacy on this head, and he was
+rewarded by receiving for answer a most prompt acquiescence in
+his request, putting the vessel entirely under his command, with
+a profusion of assurances of the peculiar felicity it gave him to
+contribute in any way to Lady Castleton’s comfort. The journey to
+Sandford was accomplished by easy stages, though hastened by Lucy’s
+impatience to relieve her father’s lonely situation.
+
+Since the second letter of her aunt, Richard Darnell’s solitude had
+been broken in upon by a most unexpected return: which had happened
+so recently that the event had not been notified in another letter
+to Lucy. The ship in which George had been placed had been homeward
+bound much sooner than had been contemplated; having been freighted
+with some ex-emperor, or potentate on half-pay. George, upon the
+receipt of the account of his aunt’s death, had immediately obtained
+leave; had started for home to see his uncle, and was at present
+staying at Morden Bay. He had hitherto conducted himself, in his new
+career, to the complete satisfaction of all his superiors, and his
+own merit, coupled with Castleton’s recommendation, had placed him
+near his captain, who had made him his clerk and employed him in a
+confidential manner.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XII.
+
+             What other can she seek to see,
+             Than thee, companion of her bower,
+             The partner of her infancy?
+
+             She is back again in her sunny home,
+             And thick and fast the beatings come
+             Of that young heart, as ’round she sees
+             The same sweet flowers, the same old trees.
+             It is her home, but all in vain
+             Some lingering things unchanged remain;
+             The present wakes no smile; the past
+             Have tears to bid its memory last.
+
+
+It was already autumn, but autumn stealing slowly on, in the guise of
+summer, when, after a few hours’ sail from Sandford, the yacht made
+Morden Bay. Not a ripple was on the wave, hardly a breath in the air,
+as the light and graceful vessel rather floated with the tide, than
+was impelled by its half-filled and nearly flapping sails, into that
+romantic haven. Castleton and Lucy were seated upon the deck. He was
+to leave her upon landing, and to return in the yacht to Sandford; as
+she could not help completely concurring with him that it was much
+better that he should not remain with her, whilst she resided at her
+father’s. Still the return without him to scenes from which he only
+had separated her, seemed more like a dissolution of their connexion,
+than either the distance or the period of their parting appeared to
+authorise; and perhaps the same impression was made upon him; for,
+during the latter part of the sail, he kept constantly dwelling, with
+apparent anxiety to convince himself of their certainty, on the many
+projects which he meant to put into execution on their re-union.
+
+They were landed just in that identical spot, in the centre of
+Morden Bay, where Lucy and George had first been discovered by the
+party from Hornscliff. The old coble, against which she had then
+leant, was still moored upon the beach, and even so did she now lean
+with Castleton, whilst the boat’s crew were engaged in carrying the
+packages up the cliff. The similarity of their local position, with
+the complete change in every other respect which had come over them
+since that epoch, to which their memory referred, had, indeed, struck
+them both most forcibly. However this might be, perhaps the very
+nature of those recollections prevented them from reciprocating their
+impressions; or perhaps the continued silence which ensued might only
+be produced by the vicinity of Lady Castleton’s maid, who was waiting
+to accompany her to the farm.
+
+Castleton had rather disliked the idea of Mrs. Jenkins being
+introduced to a knowledge of her mistress’s name, but he could not
+possibly allow her to return home utterly unattended; and as he had
+previously intended to change her waiting-woman before long, he had
+determined that Jenkins’s service should end with the residence at
+the farm.
+
+As the men had returned, and again taken their stations in the boat,
+he proposed to depart, and bidding her tenderly farewell, said,
+“Here, then, I now leave you, Lucy.” As he uttered these words, a
+melancholy presentiment vibrated through him. _Here_ had been his
+first meeting--here might be his last parting; and as he returned
+to the yacht, his own words seemed to cling to him, as he mentally
+repeated, “_Here_, then, I now leave you, Lucy.” He marked her
+mounting up the steep path which led to her father’s house, with
+slow and unsteady steps, for she was still feeble; and he compared
+her present appearance with the light elastic gait, with which he
+had seen her bound up that same path. Who but himself had produced
+this sad change? With bitter repentance he thought how completely
+his experiment had failed; and the notions, which had induced him
+to attempt it, now appeared to him in all the naked deformity of
+selfishness, stripped of that disguise of assumed diffidence and
+self-distrust, in which habitual sophistry had hitherto concealed
+them from his own penetration. He had gradually been convinced how
+almost impossible it was to fit her to perform, with comfort to
+herself and credit to him, her part in that sphere to which he had so
+abruptly transferred her.
+
+And yet, on the other hand, after the attempts that he had for many
+months made to eradicate all early impressions, did she on this
+melancholy occasion return the same, to the home of her childhood?
+Was it likely that she would now be able as naturally and efficiently
+to fulfil all those filial offices which had formerly been her
+delight? He asked himself the question, how had he repaid her for
+the destruction of so many habitual sources of innocent satisfaction?
+Was she now, as she ought to be, the unique object of his thoughts?
+He turned his head away in shame at the consciousness of feeling how
+unable he was to answer the question as he ought; but he looked on
+the wide waste of waters before him, as if to lose himself and his
+reflections on that indefinite horizon, rather than own, by a glance
+in an opposite direction, that his thoughts turned towards Sandford,
+and the possible prospect he thought there was of his there meeting
+Lady Gayland.
+
+But let us not make him out worse than he was: it was no deliberate
+intention of this kind which had made him originate the plan; but
+perhaps the casual mention, by that lady, of Lord Stayinmore’s yacht
+being at the watering-place, to which she might be tempted to go in
+the course of the autumn, had first suggested to Castleton the idea
+of asking for the loan of the vessel.
+
+Lucy had by this time, with much effort, half ascended the cliff, and
+she now stopped to rest at an angle of the path, in an arbour which
+had been constructed by herself and her cousin George, in the days of
+their childhood; and as she prepared to seat herself within it, she
+clung for support to those own sturdy boughs, which, as tendrils, she
+had formerly moulded to her will; and as her maid, on whom she had
+leant for assistance in the ascent, was a person in whom she could
+not confide, she sat here for a while in silence, reflecting on past
+times. She drew her sable-lined cloak more closely about her; for in
+spite of the cheerfulness of the scene around, she felt the morbid
+chilliness of lingering debility and shattered nerves; ills which, on
+that spot, she had certainly never suffered from before; but now she
+sat and shivered in the sunshine.
+
+And even thus she was marked from near by one who longed to offer
+assistance, yet dared not. George, at the first seeing her from the
+garden above, as she landed from the boat, had rushed downwards; but
+his courage had failed him as he approached; and he, who had braved
+dangers in every shape, and in every clime, now, on this well-known
+spot, feared to encounter the playmate of his infancy, the confidant
+of his childhood; and as she neared the spot at which he had
+hesitated and stopped, he hid himself, crouching in the copse behind
+the arbour, to mark her more closely before presenting himself to her
+notice.
+
+He had known her from a distance; that is, having heard that she
+was shortly expected, and to arrive by sea, although the day had
+not been fixed, he felt assured that this must be her. Yet, upon
+beholding her nearer, so much was she changed, that he felt disposed
+to doubt her identity. She had grown much thinner, and this effect
+was increased by her mourning attire. He had never before seen her
+in the garb of woe, through all the long years which they had passed
+together. Custom in her case would not have required her to assume
+it for a distant relative, nor had sad necessity obliged her to wear
+it for any one whom she would have really lamented. And if (thought
+he) she should be as much altered in inward feeling, as in outward
+appearance--if even now, sitting alone in that arbour, where we have
+together so often lingered, there is a constraint in her manners,
+who knows whether that constraint would be removed, or would assume
+only a more chilling coldness, at again suddenly beholding the
+companion of her youth? This fear pressed so strongly upon his mind
+that he stirred not from his concealment, but suffered her to pass on
+undisturbed.
+
+She again commenced languidly ascending the remaining part of the
+cliff, leaning on her maid, whose patience was very much exhausted,
+and who could not help at last exclaiming; “Well to be sure, my lady,
+this is the most horriblest outlandish place I ever seed; I wonder
+that you, who knowed afore how bad it was, ever thought of returning
+to it again; it would have been different if you had been brought to
+it unsight unseen.”
+
+“Such as it is,” replied Lady Castleton, “there is no carpeted hall
+where I have wandered, since last I was here, which I have trodden
+with half the pleasure that I feel as I again climb this rugged
+ascent.”
+
+Further comment on the part of her loquacious attendant was for the
+present prevented; for they had at length reached the ledge upon
+which Bankside Farm-house was situated, and Lucy was received in the
+arms of her aunt Alice.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XIII.
+
+               And if there be a human tear,
+               From passion’s dross refined and clear--
+               A tear so tempered and so meek
+               That would not stain an angel’s cheek--
+              ’Tis that which tender fathers shed
+               Upon a duteous daughter’s head.
+
+
+Alice Darnell had rather expected her niece on this day, though
+none in particular had been specified by Lady Castleton, in the
+announcement of her intention. She had, therefore, come over to
+her brother’s to meet her. The farmer himself was, at the moment
+of her arrival, out superintending his labourers--employment being
+more than ever necessary to him. Alice Darnell, therefore, took
+this opportunity to announce to Lucy the return of her cousin
+George, thinking, with a woman’s recollections of past times, some
+preparation for that event expedient. So announced, Lucy was prepared
+for the reception of her cousin, when, having first watched her
+progress upwards from his hiding-place, he soon afterwards himself
+made his appearance.
+
+Lucy’s greeting of him was frank and cordial; and if there was, on
+either side, any awkwardness in the meeting, it was screened from
+observation by the immediate entrance of her father, whose voice was
+first heard exclaiming, “Where is she? where is’t my darling? my
+little Lucy!” and he rushed into her arms. “Hast spoilt her by making
+Lady Lucy on her? Noa; there’s still the same gentle look, and kind
+eye. But let’s look again: why, she’s a sight thinner nor she was.
+Hast not fed, dear? How’s this?”
+
+“No, father; you forget I’ve been ill, and of course in distress too;
+nothing more.”
+
+“Yees; but the pratty plump cheek’s quite dipped in, I’s sure; and
+what’s this?” encircling with the capacious span of his finger
+and thumb, her somewhat emaciated arm, through the ample folds of
+her crape gigot sleeve, “Why’s not now half the size. Ah! these
+vanities,” said he, thrusting his fingers through the bows which, in
+the fashion of that day, hung from the shoulder; “this here ribbon
+grass is a terrible crop for wasting the soil that grows it. But this
+is a sad lonely house you’re come to now, Lucy,” as his thoughts
+turned to the cause of her visit; “sad, lonely place, indeed. Why
+there’s nobody now to keep nout in order. Cocks and hens just walk in
+at the front door, and Betty and the farming-men walk out at the back
+jist when they both like; and neither niver stop to ask my leave,
+whether one may come in, or t’other gang out; and I’s sure, even the
+kitchen clock there, like a big coward, has ticked twice as loud,
+since there has been none to talk against it.”
+
+But seeing that this allusion, homely as it was, to the recent
+calamity, had still the effect of upsetting Lucy, and causing her to
+weep bitterly, he stopped short, saying, “No; but no more of this at
+present;” and, though not celebrated for tact, the intuitive effort
+of kind feeling, and true affection, enabled him soon to recover his
+composure; and by way of turning the conversation, he asked her, “And
+hast seen many fine folks in your fine hoam, Lady Lucy? Ah! let them
+come as fine, and as many, and as used to bedizenment as they may be,
+there’lt have been none to match my little Lucy in _prattiness_. Her
+little nose is still as straight as ever; there’ll have been none
+there to put it out of joint.”
+
+“Dear father, your partiality makes you fancy that there is nothing
+in the world like your little Lucy; but if you’d been where I’ve been
+biding, you would soon have learnt the difference. We have not seen
+much company; but there is one that would in every respect shame me
+in the comparison. Lady Gayland is as much above me in beauty, as in
+book-learning.”
+
+“And Lady Gayland has been staying with you at Lord Castleton’s
+house?” said George, inquiringly, as if he knew something about her,
+that made this a matter of surprise to him.
+
+“Yes, dear Lady Gayland. But why should that surprise you?” asked
+Lucy, in her turn, anxious to find out on what his knowledge of Lady
+Gayland was founded; but he evaded further mention of the subject on
+that occasion. Some time afterwards, however, when they were alone
+together, and she again alluded to Lady Gayland, he also again
+hinted his surprise, that she should have been a guest in Castleton’s
+house; and when pressed by Lucy to explain what he knew of that lady,
+he began by asking whether she remembered Jack Carter.
+
+This preliminary having, after reciprocal explanation, been assented
+to, George continued that, immediately after her wedding, Jack
+Carter had returned to Somersby, previously to sailing in the ship
+to which Castleton had recommended him, and which was the same to
+which George himself belonged. He had remained some few days in the
+neighbourhood, to renew acquaintance with his early friends, amongst
+whom were many of Lord Castleton’s present establishment; and, upon
+joining the ship, he told George, to whom, as acquainted with all the
+circumstances, he thought he could, without displeasing his patron,
+communicate in confidence; that what most excited the general
+surprise at my Lord’s unexpected marriage, was, that it had been the
+universal impression, from the reports made by those servants who
+had been abroad with him, that he was certainly to be united to Lady
+Gayland.
+
+“Even so I thought. What would I now give that so it had been.
+Abroad?--Yes! and then I had never seen him but that once. Who would
+not then have been happier?”
+
+“Happier, Lucy?--then _you_ are not happy?”
+
+“Do not ask me, dear George; there was a time when I had not a
+thought that I would not have shared with you; but now, there are
+thoughts which are my husband’s alone. Let us talk of something else.
+My poor father!--he’s not fitted to live in an empty house; I wish
+you’d fill it for him, George.”
+
+“How do you mean, Lucy, ‘fill it?’”
+
+“That you should marry, George. Nay, do not start so; I know that you
+will say that your profession takes you much abroad; but then your
+wife might bide your return. She would be a comfort to my father, he
+would be a protector to her; and this house might be a home to all.”
+
+“No, Lucy; I’d better now never try to have a home; a roving life is
+my best resource. Change stands to me in the place of comfort; and
+bustle does instead of happiness. One could not get a home at once,
+either, just by the wishing it. My notion of home is, that every
+thought, feeling, and wish should be in perfect concert, and that the
+house should be the last thing to be in common.”
+
+“This,” thought Lucy, “is his notion of home: how different has been
+my experience of it!”
+
+But Lucy was not the only person under her father’s roof, at the
+present moment, who thought that it would well become George to take
+a wife.
+
+Mrs. Jenkins, Lucy’s maid, being now completely enlightened on the
+subject of her mistress’s origin, thought, perhaps, that there must
+be something in the atmosphere of Morden Bay, to make _més-alliances_
+epidemic; and with so exaggerated a case of that description before
+her, as the elevation of the farmer’s daughter to the peerage, it
+was no great stretch of her imagination, to fancy that she might
+captivate a petty officer; and, as she had here little to do, and
+nobody to see but George, who was a good-looking manly youth, it was
+natural for her to suppose herself in love with him.
+
+Mrs. Jenkins had good eyes and teeth; and though her freshness had
+been somewhat impaired by late hours, having been forced to watch
+in solitude the return of daylight, and a succession of _young_
+mistresses, yet she dressed herself with as much care and success as
+her lady, and was altogether rather a smart figure. But if she had
+been ten times as attractive, it is certain that George would, in his
+present position, have viewed her with indifference, or rather, not
+looked on her at all.
+
+When she could no longer resist this conviction, her self-complacency
+could not otherwise account for the fact than by imagining that
+he had raised his aspiring eyes as high as her mistress; and this
+idea once received, she became impatient to leave her service, and
+make as much mischief of her discovery as she could. The defective
+accommodation of the farmer’s house was the plea upon which she
+chose to put her departure. “Very sorry, my lady, but I find it
+quite _un_possible to remain, if I’m to sleep in the _hole_ in which
+they’ve thrust me.”
+
+“Why, what’s the matter with your room, Jenkins?”
+
+“Why, my lady, it can’t be supposed that I’m to put up with _stuccy_;
+I’ve always been used to be _papered_, ever since I went first into
+service.”
+
+“I can only say, Jenkins, that the room in which you at present are,
+is the one out of which _I_ never slept till within the last few
+months.”
+
+“P_a_rfectly possible, my lady; but there’s a difference between what
+some people are ’customed to, and what other people _were_ ’customed
+to.”
+
+Further attempts to appease the irritated Abigail, predetermined
+to be affronted, only produced fresh impertinence; and this being
+overheard by George, brought down a sharp rebuke, which did not
+propitiate his slighted admirer. The result was, that as no attempt
+to persuade her to stay appeared to Lucy likely to succeed, she was
+allowed to depart in a fishing-boat for Sandford.
+
+Though Lucy, from motives of delicacy, had declined entering into
+any explanation with George, as to the disappointment which she had
+experienced in the state of her husband’s feelings towards her; yet
+she did not think it necessary to maintain the same reserve with
+her aunt Alice. But even to her, her regrets were general, always
+accompanied with the expressed consciousness of her own deficiencies
+and unfitness; and, if she had gathered any specific cause of
+uneasiness from what she might have overheard in the shrubbery, not
+even to the feminine confidante of her early years, did she suffer
+any complaint on that head to pass her lips.
+
+Alice, whose acuteness and experience had foreseen the probability
+of many of the drawbacks on her niece’s elevation, which had since
+occurred, (though they, of course, did not appear so inevitable as
+to justify her in opposing what was otherwise so advantageous,) could
+now do no more than advise her to hasten and mitigate, as much as
+she could, any expectations of exclusive devotion; and to use every
+exertion that in _her_ conduct, at least, no cause of censure might
+arise.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIV.
+
+                              Those who murder fame,
+                   Kill more than life-destroyers.
+
+
+Castleton, for the first few days at Sandford, led a listless,
+lounging, watering-place kind of life. Lady Gayland was not yet come;
+nor did he, among the many casual acquaintances that he encountered,
+find any one calculated to be a resource. On the contrary, one
+unexpectedly crossed his path here, the renewal of whose acquaintance
+was most unwelcome; he would even have given much to avoid it. In
+passing, at dusk one afternoon, by a trinket-shop on the cliff,
+he heard his name uttered, inquiringly, out of a dark-coloured
+chaise, with rose-coloured blinds. So summoned, he approached,
+and, though the light was already too far gone to give more than
+a general view of the features of the person who addressed him,
+yet a disagreeable conviction at once occurred to him, through the
+concurrent accumulation of rouge and wrinkles, that he once more
+beheld Lady Madelina Manfred. She addressed him in the sickly tone of
+resuscitated sentiment, and requested him to call upon her the next
+day.
+
+There was hardly any thing that he would not rather have done, and
+yet there was hardly any thing that he could not better refuse to
+do; and next morning saw him unwillingly winding his way towards a
+cottage _orné_ on the cliff, which, with the dark-coloured chariot,
+had been the produce of her recruited finances. Poor Manfred had, at
+length, drank himself to death in the Bench; she had therefore come
+upon the entailed property for her settled jointure; had quarrelled
+with, and left Captain O’Connor in Connaught; and, with somewhat
+diminished powers, was trying whom she could captivate here, to use
+either as an agreeable _passe-temps_, or as a permanent settlement.
+
+For Castleton she had always retained a lingering partiality; their
+connexion, such as it was, had taken its date just at that period
+of her life, when a woman of her description is peculiarly sensible
+of the admiration of a very young man. He was since married, and
+therefore she could not look forward to any renewal of their
+_liaison_; but as she was not conscious of any other change, least of
+all in herself, she still expected from him much devotion of manner.
+But Castleton’s feelings towards her were now, on the contrary,
+under the influence of that most powerful of all re-actions, the
+thorough consciousness of having, with very little excuse, made a
+very great fool of himself. He was now perfectly aware of all those
+faults in her character, to which he had formerly been wofully
+blind; and he could not even discover the traces of those personal
+attractions which had alone been the cause of that blindness.
+Therefore, though her reception of him was evidently studied;
+her address to him tender and languishing; and the effect of her
+appearance, assisted by the softened light that oozed through the
+triply-folded curtains; yet, in spite of all this, his manner was as
+cold as it was constrained.
+
+Lady Madelina had always had a passion for presents; and on this
+occasion, several trinkets, said to have been sent to her for choice,
+were artfully displayed upon the table. Castleton could not mistake
+the hint intended; but he hesitated at first, between a dislike to
+take this particular method of checking her expectations, and the
+danger of encouraging these too far, by acceding to her evident wish.
+At last, as the best way of making good his retreat out of the room,
+he begged her acceptance of the article which seemed most to have
+tempted her fancy; accompanying his exit with an expression of his
+regret that he was so much occupied at present, that he could have
+but few opportunities of repeating his visit.
+
+This occupation, which was imaginary at the time that it was so
+pleaded, was soon afterwards realized; for Lady Gayland arrived the
+next day, and was followed almost immediately by St. Clair and some
+other young men; as well as by two or three families, who having
+latterly been staying at the country-house where she has been on a
+visit, near Somersby, had been principally tempted by her to take
+Sandford in their way homewards.
+
+Under these circumstances, Castleton found it very difficult now to
+see her alone; a difficulty which she seemed by no means anxious to
+remove. How wise would he have thought this determination in any
+other case: how little justice did he do to its discretion in his
+own. A man, under the influence of an unhappy passion, feeling the
+obligation, but not having the power to resist it, is often the most
+senseless animal in creation: always prone to misconstrue the actions
+of the object of his devotion; unreasonable in his expectations of
+demonstrations towards himself, and fastidiously criticising her
+deportment towards any one else; equally ready to exact in the one
+case, or exaggerate in the other.
+
+In spite, however, of her previous determination to avoid it, the
+intimate footing of society at a small watering place, and the tacit
+acquiescence, if not expressed understanding, by which, on these
+occasions, those two people are allowed to be most together whose
+society is supposed to be the most agreeable to each other, led to
+interviews which dangerously reminded them both of past times, and
+produced some little gossip even beyond their immediate circle.
+
+Lady Madelina had, ever since Castleton’s visit, and consequent
+_cadeau_, pestered him with incessant pointedly-expressed
+rose-coloured notes; which, after a time, he was rather apt to leave
+unanswered. The cause of this she was anxious to discover. Her
+position in the world was a doubtful one; she had been avoided, never
+excluded; no record had ever appeared against her: Captain O’Connor,
+and Connaught, were equally distant and unknown. She, therefore,
+at a watering place, hovered sufficiently within the outskirts of
+society to have occasional opportunities of observing Castleton. At
+a raffle, which was held at one of the libraries, she met him with
+Lady Gayland hanging on his arm, and addressing him with an easy
+assurance, which she probably had acquired in the western province of
+the sister country, said,
+
+“Introduce me to your _new_ friend.”
+
+“Excuse me;” was the laconic reply, pointedly expressed.
+
+“This from _you_ to _me_!” was the equally concise retort, as she
+floated by.
+
+There is nothing in the world so vindictive as an irritated fool; and
+an unexpected opportunity occurred of venting, in a congenial manner,
+her spiteful feelings.
+
+The maid whom Lucy had been obliged to dismiss from Morden Bay, was
+landed at Sandford, and sought what might for her too truly be
+termed a suitable service with Lady Madelina Manfred. It had always
+been Lady Madelina’s custom to confide much in her maid, though the
+services which she had required had generally been in aid of a softer
+passion than hatred. The information that her new attendant had been
+living with Lady Castleton, gave her an immediate clue to all the
+discoveries that she most wished to make; and she was not a little
+surprised to find, upon inquiry, that his present wife could be no
+other than the little girl whom they had together seen, during their
+excursions on the shores of Morden Bay. The details given by Mrs.
+Jenkins, of the state of the establishment during the time that she
+lived with the Castletons, and particularly of the present family
+union at Bankside Farm, furnished ample food for mischief, had Lady
+Madelina possessed powers equal to her desire, to wield the weapons
+thus placed in her hands.
+
+But there is one device, the attempt of which is open to the poorest,
+the effects of which may content the most rancorous spirit. An
+anonymous letter is a mode of moral murder, which, using only a
+pen for a poniard, and an inkstand for a bowl, poisons confidence,
+and stabs characters without fear of detection. A man who thus
+“filches from me my good name,” is free from any dread of having
+the stolen goods found upon him; and malignity, thus refined by
+cowardice, feasts satisfactorily upon the mere distant imagination
+of the success of its designs. This was the sort of revenge which
+it occurred to Lady Madelina to take; and, collecting some topics
+for mischief from her maid, she concocted the following epistle for
+Lucy in a feigned hand; a disguise by no means complete, since the
+highly-scented vellum paper, which was made use of, would have
+suggested to any one less artless than Lucy, the sort of person
+from whom it came. It began with those assurances with which every
+anonymous letter abounds.
+
+“_A friend_, deeply _interested_ in the welfare of Lady Castleton,
+begs most anxiously to warn her of the doubly dangerous precipice on
+which she at present stands. On one side her character is cruelly
+traduced, and spies set over her to endeavour to collect proofs of
+her criminal attachment to _one_ whom it is unnecessary to name, but
+for whom the person who thus cautions her, feels assured that she
+only entertains an innocent regard. At the same time attempts are
+carrying on here by the same artful woman, who is thus working her
+ruin, to rob her of her husband’s affections. This object, the friend
+who now writes is afraid will be more likely to be accomplished than
+the first part of the scheme. At any rate, why is Lady Castleton
+not here? In regard alike for her reputation and her happiness, she
+ought not to delay her return another instant: already her absence
+is represented as arising from indifference to Lord Castleton, and
+partiality for another. She is young in the world, and has much to
+learn; and will not suffer by taking this hint from her sincere
+friend,--Experience.”
+
+Whatever might be the extent of the malice with which this was
+written, the degree of misery which it inflicted on the poor girl
+to whom it was addressed, must have excited some compunction if it
+could have been witnessed by its author; especially as Lucy was not
+herself so much the object, as the means, of attack upon the other
+two intended victims.
+
+Lucy, with this death-warrant of her happiness, as she considered
+it, in her hand, felt as solitary in the centre of her family, as
+she had done in the midst of the strange society to which she had
+been transplanted. To whom could she willingly confide insinuations
+so degrading to herself, so injurious to her husband? The experience
+of the short time that had elapsed since her return to Bankside, had
+served to convince her how little the greater part of what she had
+lately learnt, could be understood by those amongst whom she had
+previously lived. She could not, therefore, for the world acknowledge
+to her father, still less to her cousin, that she could believe
+that there was any foundation in that which was asserted about her
+husband: and as little, she knew, would they credit what was said
+about herself. Nay, she even shrunk from showing the odious letter to
+her aunt, with whom she felt that she could have no half confidences.
+And yet to herself she could not deny, that she thought she ought, if
+possible, to follow the advice it contained, of an immediate return
+to her husband--but on what grounds to explain to her family such a
+previously unmentioned design?
+
+An occasion, however, offered the very next day, while she was
+repining in secret over the contents of the hateful communication,
+which enabled her to attribute to the peculiar convenience of the
+opportunity, her intention to avail herself of it.
+
+Lord Stayinmore had had his yacht down to Scotland, to convey him
+Southward, but having, before its arrival, changed his mind, and
+being anxious to give some plausible reason for so doing, he had sent
+it back, with an elaborately civil note to Lady Castleton, saying
+that “he had desired his vessel might call at the Bay where she had
+landed, (he had forgotten its name,) to express his hope that she
+would do him the honour to avail herself of it to return home again,
+to gladden the sight of the living world.”
+
+Lucy, considering this arrival as almost providential, signified her
+intention of immediately availing herself of the offer. In vain her
+father and her aunt endeavoured to dissuade her, she showed a fixed
+determination to abide by her intention, for which they could not
+account. She, who was generally so gentle and pliable, was on this
+occasion positive and unalterable. She refused, even, to detain the
+vessel till the next morning; merely urging as a reason that, as it
+was a convenience offered, and a favour conferred, she felt it right
+to avail herself of it, without delay, if at all.
+
+George had stood by in silence during the time that this little
+family debate was carried on in the garden in the front of the house,
+not wishing to obtrude his opinion in opposition to what appeared
+to be Lucy’s decided intention; but he watched the while, with some
+inquietude, indications of the weather, which his general nautical
+experience, and previous knowledge of the signs to be remarked on
+that particular spot, combined to make him fear promised but a rough
+and disagreeable passage for a delicate female.
+
+The season was now far advanced: autumn, though still gleaming
+with an insidious smile, appeared generally in its own blustering
+nakedness. As they stood in the little garden, amongst the now bare
+and lifeless bushes, the fallen leaves rustled round them in fitful
+eddies. The wind, though not loud or high, was unsteady. The little
+vessel, although moored within the sheltered bay, in smooth, and
+apparently unruffled waters, heaved slowly and solemnly under the
+influence of a heavy ground swell from without; and though, with the
+exception of some light, fleecy clouds, whose fantastic shapes seemed
+to sport in the sunshine, the sky was generally clear, yet a low,
+thick bank at sea, which lingered in the offing, appeared to George
+to threaten some unpleasant weather at night, should the little skiff
+not be able to make the port of Sandford before dark. Danger he did
+not himself contemplate; and he wished not to prognosticate evil,
+when she seemed so determined not to be dissuaded from starting;
+he therefore merely urged that, if she intended to depart that
+day, there would be no unnecessary delay. She thanked him, with an
+expressive glance, for not having opposed himself to her wishes.
+
+“One night more, dear Lucy,” said her father, as she turned to
+prepare for her departure.
+
+“My dear father, trust me, I would not refuse what I should myself
+so much wish, had I not reasons, which I cannot explain, but which
+convince me of the necessity of no delay.”
+
+“You will at least, though, allow me to accompany you as far as
+Sandford,” said George. “Quite alone with strange sailors, you cannot
+think of undertaking the voyage.”
+
+Lucy hesitated how to reply to this request. The perfect purity of
+her own mind, and the correctness of her conduct, made it difficult
+for her to fancy that any one could believe the insinuation in
+the anonymous letter, of her continued attachment to her cousin.
+Sometimes the recollection of past feelings would, perhaps, raise
+a sigh to what might have been; but she never had thought of those
+times and her cousin, but as referring to prospects which her conduct
+had closed for ever against her; still if such reports had been
+spread, the idea of returning to her husband in company with George,
+caused her more fear than the alternative of braving the dangers
+of the voyage alone. She therefore answered, “I had rather go by
+myself, dear George.”
+
+But her father was not so easily satisfied: the experience of an
+unexpected bereavement, to one previously so prosperous, had made
+him, for the present, morbidly alive to danger. “I’m not now,” he
+said, “the fool-hardy swaggerer that I used to be; who just thought
+no harm could happen, because it hadn’t happened afore. Yet even now
+Richard Darnell’s fears are not to be slighted; and I shall jist have
+no rest, unless you take George wi’ you.” To the desire thus urged by
+her father, and seconded by her aunt’s entreaties, Lucy gave way, and
+consented that George should accompany her. He immediately proceeded
+to facilitate preparations for their departure; but even with his
+exertions they were rather tardy, and it was much later than he could
+have wished before they embarked.
+
+Richard Darnell, and his sister, once more stood side by side to
+watch the departure of their beloved Lucy, though under different
+circumstances. Their fears were complicated, and their hopes were
+chastened, since they had marked her borne away from the church by
+her noble bridegroom. They had ascended the cliff, and reached the
+ledge on which the farm-house was situated, just as the little bark
+cleared the promontory of the bay; and as the freshening breeze met
+them on their ascent to the upper land, they turned again to watch
+the progress of a vessel that bore a freight so precious to them
+both; and they observed, with no little anxiety, that she, at the
+same moment began to pitch sharply and violently as she cut through
+the increasing foam of the now unsheltered waters.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XV.
+
+                         For several virtues
+             Have I liked several women. Never any
+             With so full soul, but some defect in her
+             Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,
+             And put it to the foil. But you, O you,
+             So perfect and so peerless, are created
+             Of every creature’s best.
+                                                   SHAKSPEARE.
+
+             Have not all past human beings parted?
+             And must not all the present one day part?
+
+
+It has been said that it was Lady Gayland’s intention to avoid,
+as much as possible, the particular attentions of Castleton.
+The difficulty of carrying this intention into effect very much
+increased, as the society, in which they lived, itself diminished.
+It is a hard task too, to have always to count the sentences you may
+with discretion accord to one whose society you prefer; particularly
+as there was nothing actually in Castleton’s deportment to put the
+most prudent upon her guard. Since that eventful day at Somersby,
+when circumstances had betrayed him into an unfortunate indiscretion,
+his address to her had always been studiously unobjectionable. It was
+only when, acting upon her present system, she made her attentions to
+any one else more conspicuous, that his impatience prevented him from
+altogether concealing his feelings: at other times, when enjoying her
+society, he seemed to be perfectly convinced that she could never be
+to him other than a chosen companion.
+
+Lady Gayland was fully conscious of the danger of this position; she
+wanted not the innuendoes of the world to enlighten her as to its
+tendency; her own heart was to her the best warning that it was a
+provisional state of things which could not always continue. Could
+she have foreseen its natural termination, she would have been most
+desirous to await that;--but when was it to end? The return of Lady
+Castleton, with her partiality for herself, would only facilitate and
+organise an intimacy. With this conviction upon her mind, after many
+painful struggles, her resolution was taken; and when once decided,
+the arrangements in furtherance of it were made immediately, and in
+secret. She was most anxious to avoid, if possible, any thing in the
+shape of remonstrance from Castleton; but, above all, a protracted
+contest on the subject, which she felt must be peculiarly painful.
+
+It was the afternoon of the same day on which Lucy embarked from
+Morden Bay, that Castleton, upon calling at Lady Gayland’s lodgings,
+was struck with the denuded and uninhabited appearance of the
+apartment, from which all its comforts had been removed. He had
+hardly time to make this observation, when a travelling carriage,
+heavily laden, drove up to the door, and at the same moment, Lady
+Gayland, equipped as for a journey, entered the room. Her countenance
+was calm, but unusually pale; and a slight tremor betrayed itself
+through the forced firmness of her voice, as she said, “Castleton,
+you know I never had any opinion of a system of palliatives: a
+disagreeable thing that must be done decidedly, may as well be
+communicated directly. If you--if you--regard me, do not attempt to
+dissuade me from what I would myself avoid, if possible. I am about
+to leave Sandford--and--_I winter at Rome_.”
+
+“At Rome!” repeated Castleton, starting back, and concentrating into
+the tone in which he uttered those two words, the expression of
+despair at extinguished happiness. “At Rome! No--it must not be.”
+
+At that moment a servant came in to fetch Lady Gayland’s
+writing-desk, which, alone, had not yet been consigned to the
+carriage. It was one of those inopportune entrances, which it was
+difficult to bear, but still more difficult to resist. The moments
+occupied in enclosing the desk in its case seemed interminable: it
+was impossible that one word could meanwhile be exchanged between
+the parties. Castleton had turned his back at once, upon the man’s
+entrance, and stood, without moving, with his face towards the
+chimney-piece; and Lady Gayland watched, with intense anxiety, all
+the varied workings of his expressive countenance, as portrayed in
+the mirror before him. When at length the servant had again left
+the room, Castleton turned slowly round, advanced towards Lady
+Gayland, took her hand between his, and with effort gasped forth,
+“Geraldine--you are right!”
+
+This unexpectedly generous acquiescence in the propriety of her
+determination, powerfully increased all her feelings in his favour,
+and added therefore to the difficulty of concealing her own weakness.
+Again, for some moments, they stood as silent as if an eye-witness
+had been in the room: at last he continued--“’Tis, however, somewhat
+sudden. I cannot yet quite forget what my prospects were the last
+hour--what they are this. Mystery and concealment need no longer
+be maintained, when all will so soon be over. Of course, I cannot
+conceal from myself that _I_ am connected with this determination.”
+
+“Castleton, I had hoped, by the course which I have taken, to have
+been spared explanation, useless to you--injurious to myself:
+but after the noble and disinterested manner in which you have
+facilitated the execution of my project, by acknowledging its
+propriety, I cannot refuse to answer your question, if you press for
+reply.”
+
+“I press for nothing that can be painful to yourself. I _can_ have no
+claim on you.”
+
+“You feel that it is not necessary,” added she, faintly smiling, “to
+force me to a verbal confession that it was the influence which I
+felt you _must_ have over my actions, if I stayed, which has induced
+me to take this irrevocable step.”
+
+“This candid avowal, at such a moment, only the more completely
+exposes the folly of my former wilful blindness. But think not now
+that I ever dared to shape my rash hopes into any other form than
+the being allowed on sufferance the enjoyment of your society: I had
+not the shadow of an excuse for further presumption. Had I first
+known you bound in loathsome chains, I fear that a sense of moral
+obligation might have in vain attempted to arrest the force of my
+passion in its endeavours to break these chains asunder. But you are
+still free--free as when I first loved you; and I am the cause of my
+own bondage. That fatal mistake--I had had painful experience of your
+sex--and by this I blindly judged a manner peculiar to yourself--I
+thought myself again deceived: I felt that any thing like you, yet
+not yourself, would be unendurable. I sought, therefore, in another
+rank of life a perfect contrast. All that I could, in common reason,
+have expected in such an experiment, I have obtained: and with it
+every tie of honour obliges me to be satisfied--and so I will. Go,
+dearest Lady Gayland, where prudence calls you. I have again deceived
+myself in fancying that I could live with you as a friend. The
+attempt has been useless. Go--you may still be happy in forgetting
+him who has only himself to blame.”
+
+“No; not entirely so. I feel that I likewise was formerly much to
+blame; but my error was unintentional. I was always a strange,
+unaccountable creature: I never could drill my deportment into
+intelligible discipline; and, singular as it may seem, the same
+heedless appearance was sometimes caused by directly opposite
+feelings. It was, I believe, those very high spirits, produced by the
+conviction of your attachment, which excited, at Rome, that levity
+of which you complained: had I been more of a coquette at heart, I
+should have been less a coquette in manner. Here, on the contrary,
+where I have been really unhappy, as the sad certainty broke upon me
+that I could not consider you only as a friend, though still hoping
+that mine was a love as passionless as human heart can know, I have
+endeavoured to lose for a moment that consciousness in the frivolous
+society of others. Believe me, a gay tone often conceals more
+anguish than it causes.”
+
+“I believe all you say--I admire all you do--I despise myself--and I
+submit.”
+
+“The carriage is quite ready, my Lady,” said a servant opening the
+door, and then closing it again.
+
+“O not yet!” exclaimed Castleton, “I had so much more to say.”
+
+“Is it, for either of our sakes, desirable to prolong these sad
+moments?”
+
+“No; and yet I would postpone, if it were even for an instant, the
+dreary void in existence which will succeed your departure. Whilst
+you are still here, I have not yet the actual consciousness that she,
+who was but this morning the charm of every prospect, has for ever
+faded from my sight. But this is wrong; your firmness deserves better
+support from me. I feel the value, especially to you, of appearances
+on this occasion. One moment more, and I will be ready.”
+
+He took two or three hasty strides across the room--clenched his
+hands violently--pressed his teeth against his closed lips--and then,
+with forced composure, said, “Now I am ready to attend you to your
+carriage.”
+
+As they descended the first flight of stairs, Lady Gayland softly
+murmured, “One word at parting: cherish your wife; she loves you, and
+_you_ should at least make _her_ happy.”
+
+Castleton pressed her arm against his heart, and nodded assent.
+
+“Not quite ready, my Lady,” said the same servant, “the chaise seat
+was forgot, in Mademoiselle’s room.”
+
+As they had with much effort screwed their courage to the point,
+this suspense was even more painful than their parting would have
+been a few moments before; but there was no resource, and they
+stood leaning against the wall at the head of the first flight
+of steps. Availing himself of this opportunity, Castleton added,
+“You will at least allow me to write to you; there are so many
+subjects--indifferent subjects I mean--in the retired life that I
+intend to lead, and I shall have no one near me with whom I can
+communicate. To this, at least, there can be no objection.”
+
+To this request Lady Gayland hesitated how to reply. “For the
+present,” said she, “let us settle nothing but separation; it may be
+a satisfaction to us hereafter that, at least for the time, we made
+that complete.”
+
+“Quite ready, my Lady,” was again announced, before Castleton could
+further urge his request. As they descended the stairs they seemed
+both nerved for the trial of the ultimate parting. Groups of idlers
+on horseback, casual acquaintances returning from the parade, made
+this exertion the more necessary. “An odious day,” exclaimed one.
+“The most disagreeable that I ever knew,” added another;--and so they
+passed on, without in the least suspecting that those whom they thus
+concisely greeted, and in whom they remarked nothing particular, were
+in the act of perfecting the greatest mutual sacrifice that the world
+could require from either. Their hands had at length been severed,
+the door was closed, and the carriage in motion, when Lady Gayland
+covered her face, and sobbed aloud, exclaiming indistinctly; “The
+blinds--the blinds--quick. Angélique, _les rideaux, tirez les donc_.”
+
+“You are ill, my Lady; _will_ we stop?”
+
+“Stop! No; faster--still faster:” and overwhelmed with long
+suppressed emotion, she burst into an hysterical fit of tears.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVI.
+
+                   O, I have suffered
+            With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel
+            Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
+            Dashed all to pieces!
+                                                   SHAKSPEARE.
+
+
+The evening, which was pronounced odious by the loungers at Sandford,
+closed in dark and louring over the little vessel still far distant
+from that port which she was endeavouring to make.
+
+Lucy had been guilty of an imprudent piece of generosity on first
+coming on board. Castleton had always given her an unbounded command
+of money, wishing to provide against the danger of her having
+imbibed parsimonious inclinations from her mother. Upon their last
+separation, too, he had forced upon her a larger sum than usual;
+thinking it not unlikely that she might wish to make a present to her
+family, as from herself, without putting them under an obligation
+to him: but as Farmer Darnell had resolutely refused to receive
+money from her in any shape, knowing from whom the funds must be
+derived, she still found herself with an over-burthened purse; and,
+under a restless desire to give to some one, and a dislike to cause
+unrequited trouble, she had made a much more liberal present to be
+divided amongst the crew of Lord Stayinmore’s yacht, than they had
+previously expected, or than they afterwards merited. For, without in
+the least meaning to assert, that an amateur’s crew may not be the
+best in the world, the crew of a neglected yacht may be supposed
+likely to get a little disorganized. The certainty of this being
+their last voyage for the season, joined to the prospect of ample
+funds, provided for them by Lady Castleton, which they would soon be
+at liberty to spend at their own pleasure, determined them to make
+clear ship of what they yet had in store; having found out therefore
+that their passenger George, was something of a seaman, the helm,
+after having been transferred from one to the other of the crew,
+was at length consigned to him. George readily accepted the trust;
+believing from his knowledge of the local difficulties of the coast,
+that he could steer her with the greatest safety. But he was not a
+little uneasy when he saw the purpose for which this trust had been
+abandoned to him.
+
+Lucy sat near the helmsman, inquiring occasionally as to their
+progress, which seemed to her impatience slow and tedious. George
+endeavoured, as far as truth permitted, to tranquillize her; but his
+own anxieties increased, as he watched the unclear and thickening
+aspect of the weather, and at the same time noted, in the excited
+countenances of the crew, as they occasionally peered above the
+hatchway, how much they were unfitting themselves for that calm and
+efficient assistance, which he knew must soon be required.
+
+George’s situation was a difficult one; he could not leave the helm,
+nor could he vociferate all he feared, to the unconscious crew,
+without the danger of alarming Lucy. At length, he caught within
+hail one straggler from the revellers below; and whispering to him
+energetically the necessity of preparing to resist the danger, which
+was now imminent, said, “Are you already so blinded, you besotted
+drivellers, as not to see it yourselves? I have witnessed some stiff
+gales and rough weather in every part of the world; but with this
+wind, and the lee-shore, and the reef of rocks to weather with an
+ebb-tide, I never saw threaten an uglier night, or one that required
+more care.”
+
+The man stood with the stupid, would-be-wise look of incipient
+inebriety, and said he would go and tell his messmates.
+
+Lucy evidently saw, by George’s anxious countenance, that all was
+not right, and looked up to him, inquiring, as if demanding that
+he should not conceal from her his thoughts; but as a driving rain
+was just then added to the discomforts of the lowering evening, he,
+instead of saying any thing in confirmation of her now awakened
+fears, only urged that she should retire below, and not unnecessarily
+expose herself to the storm. But she shook her head, saying, “No,
+George; in my earliest dangers I was used to cling to you for
+protection; and it seems more natural-like to bide by you, if we are
+now in danger--are we, George?”
+
+“Danger? no. There’s nothing but what such a tight built bark as
+this ought to ride through in safety; but nothing’s to be done
+without hands. If you could but call the skipper, Lucy; I cannot
+leave the helm, even for a moment.” Lucy rose on the instant, and,
+impressed with the idea of exerting herself for the common safety,
+she trod the rolling deck with unusual firmness and security. The
+sound of her voice unexpectedly calling upon them, and urging them
+solemnly to return to their duty, roused the besotted revellers from
+their orgies, and they tumbled, one after the other, upon deck, and
+immediately began to consider as to the best method of meeting the
+danger.
+
+George, now relieved from the helm, insisted upon conveying Lucy to
+the cabin, where she would be more safe from the boisterous rudeness
+alike of the weather and of the crew. “George, I see that you think
+there’s danger; tell me the truth, I pray you; it will be better for
+me.”
+
+“I can only repeat, that there ought to be no danger; but there are
+points between here and Sandford, which require steady heads, and
+skilful pilotage, to weather. The night, too, has set in darker than
+I had hoped, and there are those aboard that are not so clear as they
+might be; I certainly fear that, with this wind, we shall not get any
+more sea-room. But the best safeguard is, that no one should stand
+idle, whose hand and head are alike steady; so I must leave you,
+Lucy.”
+
+“One moment, George; if the worst should happen; that is, if the ship
+should go down, think not of me. You, a man, active, and an excellent
+swimmer, might easily save yourself. As for me, though I would not
+sinfully hasten my end, believe me I feel still less disposed to
+avoid it; for I should not in the least regret to die.”
+
+“No, Lucy; the first instinct of my nature was to assist you, and I
+should now selfishly bless the danger that gave me an unlooked-for
+opportunity of either dying with you, or being the means of your
+salvation.”
+
+“But if to save me be beyond your power, then take this little watch
+to my husband. Tell him that he tossed it to me carelessly before he
+loved me; that I valued it as a relic, after he had ceased to love
+me, and that only with the prospect of impending death did I part
+with it. No, not even yet will I do so; it will be more proper to
+keep it till the last,” said she, checking herself, and again hanging
+it round her neck, and pressing it to her heart. “But, haste, you’re
+wanted, George;” as a discordant cry for him was heard from the crew
+above.
+
+“Where are we, Sir?” eagerly asked several voices together.
+
+“Why, fools, dolts, lubbers,” cried George, indignant, and at the
+same time alarmed, “by the bearing of those two lights, we should be
+as near as possible over Sunken-Spike Head.”
+
+“No more a lubber than yourself; and we’re no more there than we are
+in hell,” answered the offended skipper. But before the words had
+well passed his lips, the violence of a sudden shock laid the greater
+part of the already unsteady crew prostrate on the deck; and the
+rest, thus completely sobered, too surely knew, from the pointed form
+of the hidden rock, that an incurable leak must be sprung.
+
+“The boat--the boat,” was the immediate cry. The boat was soon
+lowered, and Lucy, almost unconscious, was carried into it by George.
+The crew followed immediately, but in much greater numbers than so
+small a bark could possibly hold, with any prospect of escape to
+the passengers. But all remonstrance on this subject was rendered
+unavailing; for whilst in this state, the boat was raised for an
+instant on the surface of an enormous breaker, then dashed with
+overpowering force against the side of the vessel; and it being thus
+completely swamped, every one endeavoured to provide for his own
+safety as best he might. George, supporting Lucy on one arm, and
+maintaining his hold of a stray plank with the other, was left at the
+mercy of the contending billows.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XVII.
+
+            Was it her corpse that he bore for miles,
+            When he gladly dreamt of her grateful smiles?
+            Silently, as he bore her on,
+            Her soul from its gentle frame has gone,
+            And never on earth shall his heart discover
+            The moment her love and her life were over.
+                                                       * * * *
+
+                   Lay her i’ the earth;
+            And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
+            May violets spring!
+                                                    SHAKSPEARE.
+
+
+Castleton had passed all that night in wakeful solitude. He had
+dismissed his servant early, as if to write; but instead, had watched
+through the sleepless hours, absorbed in somewhat tardy reflections
+on the state to which he had reduced himself. How many prospects,
+which opening life had shown him in perspective, had he unaccountably
+missed in the actual attainment! How many sources of happiness had
+been dried up, whilst he, instead of partaking of their spontaneous
+flow, had been refining over-much on their component qualities. Too
+true it was, that he, the favoured child of nature and fortune,
+had signally failed, both in securing his own happiness, and in
+contributing to that of others: and yet, in the result, he had no one
+but himself to blame.
+
+The silence of the hour, and the sad abstraction of his thoughts
+conspired to invest any extraneous object, which should force his
+attention, with the morbid impressions of his imagination. The fitful
+gusts of the moaning wind seemed to speak a solemn and piteous
+warning to him. He rose and drew aside the window-curtains. The dim
+and struggling dawn had just begun to win its hard-fought way through
+the dense masses of fast-rolling clouds, which rushed onwards to
+oppose its progress. For one moment he felt freshened, as he exposed
+his burning brow to the driving rain. Looking forth, he beheld at his
+own door, a houseless mendicant, with a child in her arms, crouching
+for shelter; and as he dropt a coin into her hand, he thought, “Poor
+wretch! your sorrows are not of your own devising. One ought to be
+thankful, that neither oneself, nor a beloved one, is exposed to such
+a night as this.”
+
+He had hardly again closed the window, when a noise was heard below,
+and Carter, who had been staying with him lately, rushed into the
+room, evidently endeavouring, but in vain, through his consternation
+and distress, so to collect himself, as to be able to break to his
+patron some dreadful news.
+
+“O my Lord! prepare for the worst. My Lady!--they’re bringing her
+here!--but it’s all over.”
+
+Before he could at all relieve Castleton’s agonizing suspense, the
+frantic figure of George stood before them; his eyes staring wildly,
+and his drenched appearance showing from whence he had just emerged.
+
+“She’s dead!--she’s dead! You’ll look your last on her now; and
+cursed be the hour when you first beheld her!”
+
+“Hold, man!” said Carter; “respect his feelings.”
+
+“His feelings! what were his feelings for her compared with mine? Who
+was it, who, in the moment of danger was present, to struggle for her
+safety? He who had sworn to love, honour, and protect her, or her
+despised and neglected cousin?”
+
+The agony of Castleton, as the truth broke upon him, was too intense
+for utterance, and prevented interruption; George, therefore,
+proceeded half raving, “But for that hideous breaker which forced
+us asunder, she might still have been saved. I stretched forth my
+hand to renew my protecting hold, and this met my gripe, and snapped
+within it,” putting his hand into his breast, and producing the gold
+chain and little watch before referred to;--“your first fatal gift;”
+and with that recollection, he raised it in his hand furiously, as
+if preparing to dash it to the ground; but checking himself, he
+added, “No; it was her last thought, the last request she made!” and,
+kissing it solemnly, he placed it on the table before Castleton.
+“Once more I felt that I had her safe. In vain the breakers a second
+time strove to separate us; or, perhaps they only roared in mockery
+at my reviving hopes. I rushed through the surf, as I thought in
+triumph;--she was already dead!”
+
+The mournful procession now arrived, bearing in a litter the lifeless
+form of Lucy. There was on her no trace of death, beyond the mere
+absence of life. Placid, as still in sleep, she lay without as yet
+the paleness of a corpse; no disorder in her appearance, except the
+streaming locks of her long fair hair, which, darkened and clotted
+with moisture, hung in tangled masses over her features. There was
+no symptom of a struggle on her part; but it seemed rather as if,
+trusting, under Providence, to the efforts of him who would have
+saved her if he could, she yielded her spirit to the issue; those
+lips, through which might never more pass the slightest breath to
+stir a feather, or dull a mirror, were calmly closed, not forcibly
+compressed: the expression of her whole countenance was perfect
+repose.
+
+As they, who had brought her into the presence of her husband,
+deposited their burthen, one arm dropped from her side, and hung
+stiffly down to the ground. Castleton earnestly regarded it: there
+was the hand on which he had placed the wedding-ring; and, as he
+pressed it between his, already cold and clammy as it was, the idea
+that first roused him from his stupor into which the sudden shock had
+plunged him was, that she might yet be saved; such things had been
+done before.
+
+With wonderful precision he gave the requisite orders for attempting
+to restore animation. George, who had for some time remained silent,
+on hearing this, cried out with a bitter smile, “As if I would have
+left her for a moment, had I not too surely known that there was no
+longer such a chance.”
+
+He was right: after many hours’ useless endeavours, all were obliged
+to own that their efforts were vain.
+
+George had, in the mean time, been in the first paroxysms of a brain
+fever; through all the stages of which Castleton attended him with
+the affectionate care of a brother; and when he was pronounced out
+of danger, prepared to follow the corpse of poor Lucy to Somersby,
+where she was to be interred in the family vault. As the orders which
+Castleton had in his first despair given, that every possible honour
+should be paid to her remains, were to be acted on by interested
+parties, they had been too extravagantly fulfilled; and though, in
+the stupor of grief, the chief mourner was as unconscious of any of
+the surrounding splendours, as the corpse in whose honour they were
+collected, yet she, to whom in life pomp had been her only bane,
+was borne unconsciously along with princely and almost unparalleled
+pageantry.
+
+Castleton’s first care, upon somewhat recovering his composure, was
+to exert all his influence to advance George in his profession.
+In his wishes to serve the farmer and his sister, though equally
+sincere, he was not equally successful. Nothing could persuade them
+to leave Bankside, where they remained together, still mourning their
+bereavement.
+
+As to Castleton himself, I have too much respect for the intensity
+of his present grief, aggravated in his case by bitter feelings
+of self-reproach, to anticipate the date when that elasticity of
+spirit, which is the never-failing attribute of the human mind,
+shall have enabled him to struggle with his present depression, and
+imparting its buoyancy, as it will do whenever the heart’s core has
+not been completely crushed, shall, with the assistance of time, have
+triumphed over mortal sorrow.
+
+
+                               THE END.
+
+
+
+
+                               LONDON:
+         IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Note:
+
+Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent
+hyphenation in the text. These were left unchanged, as were jargon,
+dialect, obsolete and alternative spellings. Ten misspelled words
+were corrected. The word ‘to’ was added to “... sit next [to] Lady
+...”
+
+Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores,
+_like this_. Obvious printing errors, such as backwards, upside
+down, reversed, or partially printed letters and punctuation,
+were corrected. Final stops missing at the end of sentences and
+abbreviations were added. Duplicate words at line endings were
+removed.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78690 ***
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+      The Contrast, Vol. 3 | Project Gutenberg
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+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78690 ***</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h1>
+<span class="muchsmaller">THE</span><br>
+<br>
+<span class="ls">CONTRAST</span>,
+</h1>
+
+<p class="p2 center x-ebookmaker-important">
+BY THE AUTHOR OF “MATILDA,” “YES AND NO,”<br>
+&amp;c. &amp;c.
+</p>
+
+<hr>
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Take but degree away—untune that string,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And hark! what discord follows.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent25"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+<hr>
+
+<p class="p2 center small ls">
+IN THREE VOLUMES.
+</p>
+
+<p class="p2 center"><abbr title="Volume Three">VOL. III.</abbr>
+</p>
+
+<p class="p2 center">LONDON:</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,<br>
+<span class="small">NEW BURLINGTON STREET,<br>
+1832.</span>
+</p>
+</div>
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p>CONTENTS</p>
+<p class="unindent">
+<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER <abbr title="One">I.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER <abbr title="Two">II.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER <abbr title="Three">III.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER <abbr title="Four">IV.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER <abbr title="Five">V.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER <abbr title="Six">VI.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Seven">VII.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER <abbr title="eight">VIII.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER <abbr title="Nine">IX.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER <abbr title="Ten">X.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER <abbr title="Eleven">XI.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Twelve">XII.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Thirteen">XIII.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER <abbr title="Fourteen">XIV.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER <abbr title="Fifteen">XV.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER <abbr title="Sixteen">XVI.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Seventeen">XVII.</abbr></a><br>
+<a href="#Transcribers_Note">Transcriber’s Note</a>
+</p>
+</div>
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="h1head" id="THE_CONTRAST">
+    THE CONTRAST.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<hr>
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="One">I.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Thou art in London, in that pleasant place</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Where every kind of mischief’s daily brewing,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Which can await warm youth in its wild race.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron.</span></div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">She gazed upon a world she scarcely knew,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">As seeking not to know it.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Silent Love.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="unindent"><span class="smcap">Is</span> there one—the veriest citizen of the world
+though he may be—who has not felt a sudden
+chill seize upon his energies, a blight fall as it
+were upon his faculties, when in the varied
+changes of his chequered life, he has found himself
+amid scenes to which he alone is strange,
+whilst all around are, as it were, “to the manner
+born?” The sense of inferiority can take
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2"></span>no more painful shape than the impossibility of
+entering into sources of enjoyment, which seem
+open to every one else. This impression can
+only occasionally and incidentally afflict the
+man of the world, its repetition is evaded by
+shunning the unusual society which caused it,
+or quitting those foreign sojourning places
+where it was found. He therefore could have
+no idea of the oppressive sensation of hopeless
+solitude which overpowered Lucy when she
+first found herself dropped in the midst of the
+ever busy crowds of London. Your true cockney
+is apt to speculate, with no little self satisfaction,
+upon the first impression that the largest
+city in the world must make upon that foreigner
+who has only seen Paris or Petersburgh,
+or that countryman who has only visited
+Bath or York; but how could he estimate the
+bewilderment of her who had never, till within
+a short time, strayed from the solitary shores
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3"></span>of Morden Bay? Country girls have no doubt
+constantly before come up to London, without
+any previous preparation; but then their impressions
+have been limited by their own straitened
+circumstances, and their individual cares
+for the coming day have much confined the
+effects produced on them by the surrounding
+grandeur; and the smallness of their own share
+of the comforts which they beheld, has limited
+their admiration of the marvellous variety
+which was to be divided among others. On
+the other hand, the strange conviction on
+Lucy’s mind, that she would now have as large
+an individual command as any one, of all the
+varied luxuries which on all sides bewildered
+her sight, gave her a painful consciousness of
+her own littleness.</p>
+
+<p>For nearly seven miles of suburb, she had
+been expecting to stop at every door she
+passed, thinking it quite impossible the town
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4"></span>could extend any farther. A curious inquiry
+it would be, and probably puzzling to more
+experienced investigators than Lucy, who live
+in those houses, which are perpetually building
+in most out-of-the way districts? Are the
+houses built for the inhabitants, or the inhabitants
+fitted to the houses?</p>
+
+<p>The carriage at length stopped at Lord
+Castleton’s door, which was in one of the <i lang="fr">soi-disant</i>
+fashionable squares in the west end of
+London. It was still very early in a London
+spring morning, that is, it was not above two
+hours after noon, and Castleton determined to
+go out, to collect new gossip from old acquaintance
+at the clubs, and Lucy was left alone;
+and she felt as if she was the first person in the
+world who had ever known the most extended
+signification of that word <em>alone</em>.</p>
+
+<p>The <i lang="fr">soignée salon</i> in which she had been left,
+opened, behind its muslin draperies, upon a balcony
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5"></span>and veranda, filled with rare and sweet
+plants, and from thence she looked forth upon
+the scene beyond, having first stepped out
+merely to catch the last glimpse of Castleton as
+he turned the corner. By one used to the more
+busy parts of the metropolis, it would have
+been styled a quiet situation; but to Lucy it
+appeared as if some great event must have collected
+an unusual crowd. And there they all
+hurry on, she thought, whether on business or
+pleasure, sent by one person seeking another.
+And I, perhaps, of all this moving crowd, am
+the only creature who <a id="chg1"></a>knows no one, and for whom
+no one cares. Castleton has gone forth, and however
+surprised, there is no one of whom I can ask
+a question; however pleased, no one to whom I
+can express my admiration: and whatever may
+be the destination of all these ever-moving busy
+ants below, the only thing certain is, that their
+pursuits have no connexion whatever with me.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6"></span>She envied even the dustman, who through the
+iron rail of the area, shook the hand that declined
+his call. She thought even the old
+clothesman looked with an eye of interest on
+all he passed. She would have liked to have
+participated in the anxious care of the nervous
+nursery maid, in convoying her unruly six
+sail over a dangerous crossing. As the day
+advanced, she marked with equal certainty
+that she could have no interest in their motions;
+the thundering notification of the stately
+coach, which all ended in depositing an empty
+card, and the stealthy approach of the gliding
+<em>cab</em>, which neared the flags, and dropped a
+more interesting billet, just where a fair expectant
+hand awaited it, either for herself or
+mistress.—Each succeeding incident, of which
+she was an unobserved spectator, only increased
+her sense of loneliness. Her attention was, at
+length, particularly attracted to a gay cavalcade
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7"></span>of ladies and gentlemen who were making
+the circuit from the other side of the square.
+There were in all three ladies, and a superabundant
+attendance of cavaliers. But Lucy’s
+eye was fixed on the lady who rode first, between
+two gentlemen, her horse indicating that
+sort of becoming impatience which excites fear
+for a bad horse-woman, and admiration of a
+good one. But to Lucy it looked very tremendous,
+till, upon nearer approach, she observed
+that so far from being alarmed, she was
+talking gaily, and laughing merrily. Her head
+was turned towards the gentleman nearest Lucy,
+whilst her other companion was anxiously appearing
+to be amused with what she was saying.</p>
+
+<p>As they came under the balcony, Lucy
+clapped her hands with delight, saying to herself,
+“O, dear, I’m so happy there is somebody
+I do know; that’s the kind lady of
+Hornscliff Abbey.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8"></span></p>
+
+<p>It was impossible, indeed, for any one who
+had once seen Lady Gayland to be mistaken.
+Though the expression of her countenance was
+now as different from that which, when Lucy had
+last beheld her, beamed with sympathy on her
+distresses, as the costume which she now wore,
+or the occasion on which she was seen. In
+passing, even whilst continuing the conversation,
+without elevating her head, she raised her
+eyes to the balcony on which Lucy was standing.
+Lucy conceived she must have heard her,
+but, perhaps, entirely unconnected with her,
+Lady Gayland had her own motives for casting
+one transient glance unobserved in that direction.
+Lucy, though, thought otherwise, and
+hastily withdrew, imagining that the only impression
+which her presence there could cause,
+on the lady’s mind must be, “What can Lucy
+Darnell be doing in that fine house?”</p>
+
+<p>Lucy would hardly have been able to account
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9"></span>for her never having mentioned to Castleton
+her interview with the Lady of Hornscliff
+Abbey; but, perhaps, one reason was, that not
+till some time after that event did she see
+him again. And though she would not have
+thought of premeditated concealment from him
+of any important point, they had never been
+upon those terms of easy equality which could
+have induced her to volunteer confidence.
+Latterly, too, she had observed so much uneasiness
+and impatience on his part, at any
+casual mention of circumstances connected either
+with the trial or smuggling transactions, that
+the fear of annoying him, coupled with her
+ignorance of the lady’s name, which left her
+indeed little to tell, prevented her, upon his return,
+from making any mention of the person
+she had observed from the window.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton came home in high spirits; he had
+been much pleased with the cordial manner in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10"></span>which his re-appearance had been greeted by
+all his old acquaintances. It is a pleasing illusion
+which, on such an occasion, makes a man
+appropriate, as indicating a clear sense of his
+own merits, those manifestations of delight at his
+re-appearance, which have oftener no other
+foundation than the ebullitions of selfish satisfaction,
+at any break or change in the wearisome
+monotony of a life of pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>But Castleton was too popular a man for him
+not to be justified in attributing to more flattering
+motives much of the warmth of his welcome.
+It was astonishing the deference that was paid to
+his opinion upon all matters connected with the
+arts, literature, or politics, considering that he
+had never exerted his own talents directly in
+any of these different departments. But perhaps
+for this very reason, as he never even drew
+except that once at Morden Bay, which was
+certainly not with a view to extended fame, or
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11"></span>wrote, or spoke himself at all, and was equally
+devoid of any pretensions of his own, as either
+artist, author, or orator, he was the more readily
+allowed to decide upon those of others;
+more particularly as his manner of conveying
+his opinions was as mild as the opinions themselves
+were valuable. And having established
+amongst his acquaintance universally, a character
+as arbiter of taste, he was not a little anxious
+how far that character might be confirmed by
+the estimate of his conduct in so important a
+point as the choice of a wife; about which he
+had his own misgivings. The fact is, that in
+no point had Castleton more deceived himself
+than in not perceiving that that very over
+refinement in scrutinizing the motives and
+opinions of others, which had made him suspect
+interested inconsistencies in all women in his
+own rank in life, would, taking only another
+shape, make him even more conscious than
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12"></span>another would have been of the inevitable incongruities
+of his present partner with that rank
+of life to which he had raised her. One of a
+less morbidly critical taste, less disposed to
+analyze below the surface, would have been
+satisfied with that favourable impression which
+beauty and grace in perfection could not fail to
+make in the first instance. But he already
+began to fear that those mental deficiencies,
+which he had, indeed, but lately discovered
+himself, must at first sight be obvious to every
+one else. Still, uncomfortable, indeed, must
+have been the forebodings which could not have
+been chased away, at least for the time, by the
+look of confiding devotion with which she received
+him upon his return. His first care was
+to make her, as far as he could, comfortable in
+her new habitation. But a sense of comfort is
+not a feeling which can at once be transfused,
+with the will of him who wishes it. Comfort is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13"></span>so closely connected with habit, that many
+things which to others would have contributed
+to confer it, were to Lucy, from their strangeness,
+only additional sources of embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>His next anxiety was as to her first introduction
+into society, or what is called the world.
+He was right in thinking that upon this occasion
+much depended upon that first impression;
+but he was wrong in doubting that in Lucy’s
+case, the probabilities were much in favour of
+that being advantageous. In London, provided
+a person is positively pretty and new, their
+other qualities may be negative; and as long
+as they are not obtrusively either awkward or
+silly, they may pass muster very well, at least
+for a time. People have not either the leisure
+or the inclination to pick out peccadilloes in deportment,
+which they have in a country neighbourhood.
+If the same persons were not exposed
+one half the year to the really severe
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14"></span>ordeal of the one, they would not be so very
+sensitive in the other. In the London season,
+all the little social rubs to which all are in
+turn subject, arise much more from an over
+estimate of their own importance, than from
+any intentional depreciation of it on the part of
+their associates. It is to the failure of attempts
+to be what they are not, rather than to any dispute
+as to conceding what they are, that self-inflicted
+mortifications may be traced. Those
+who keep one foot within reach of firm ground,
+will never get much of a tumble, in climbing
+the ladder of fashion.</p>
+
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15"></span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Two">II.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Then dress, then dinner, then awakes the world!</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2">Then glare the lamps, then whirl the wheels, then roar</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Through street and square fast flashing chariots hurl’d</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2">Like harnessed meteors; then along the floor</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Chalk mimics painting; then festoons are twirled;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent2">Then roll the brazen thunders of the door,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Which opens to a thousand happy few,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">An earthly paradise of “Or Molu.”</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Lord Castleton</span> changed his mind very often
+as to the best preparatory introduction for
+Lucy to a few select friends. He was convinced
+that before she was launched into the
+great world, he ought to provide her with
+some female companion, under whose auspices
+she might then make her appearance. For
+though it might look merely loving and interesting
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16"></span>for a bride to appear leaning on her husband’s
+arm, in that society to which they had
+both been previously known; yet where she
+was a stranger, like needlessly backing a bill,
+it might excite a suspicion as to her being able
+to stand alone, without his name being thus
+attached, or his hand thus put to insure her
+not being discredited. His first intention was
+to have invited a small party to dinner at his
+own house. But though this would have insured
+him the absolute selection of all the
+individuals to whom Lucy was, in the first
+instance, to have been introduced; on the other
+hand, the active duties of a hostess, perhaps in
+her idea so much more active than he would
+have thought necessary, were more than he
+wished to entail upon her in her probationary
+trial. Then, as to the lady to whom he was
+to apply as a sort of <i lang="fr">chaperon</i> for his inexperienced
+bride, his thoughts first turned to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17"></span>Lady Gayland; a direction in which, as I am
+afraid it must be acknowledged, they did turn
+oftener than he would have chosen to admit.
+Yet he had a great disinclination to exposing
+at once to her acute perception any little
+foibles or deficiencies on Lucy’s part, though he
+knew that the mere circumstance of any one
+requiring her assistance, would have disposed
+her to view them in the most favourable light.
+Yet there were many little traits of ignorance
+on Lucy’s part which he was labouring hard to
+correct, and which he hoped might yet be
+completely removed, without Lady Gayland’s
+ever being conscious of them. There were
+also circumstances of misconception, if not of
+misunderstanding, connected with his last parting
+with that lady at Naples, which prevented
+his feeling authorized in abruptly asking of
+her a favour.</p>
+
+<p>The difficulties, both with respect to when the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18"></span>introductory dinner was to be given, and the
+person by whom Lucy was to be <i lang="fr">chaperoned</i>,
+were removed at the same time, by his accidentally
+meeting a cousin of his, Mrs. Tudor,
+who at once occurred to him as admirably
+suited to both purposes. She was indeed an
+excellent woman—Mrs. Tudor. Every one
+admitted it, no one could deny it. Faultless
+as she was herself, faultless was her society—faultless
+were her dinners.</p>
+
+<p>Now why is it, that in this wicked world
+every one of my readers have associated an
+idea of insipidity with the description I have
+just given? There were no words used which
+seemed at all to make such an interpretation
+necessary, yet in this particular instance it is
+certainly the right one. Every thing connected
+with Mrs. Tudor was essentially insipid.
+Perhaps when an excellent woman is married
+to a good kind of man, and such was Tudor,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19"></span>it is too much. It gives one the fidgets at
+once. But excellent women, particularly if
+they happen to have house and fortune in proportion
+to their good qualities, are very apt to
+have very extensive and very eligible acquaintance;
+and Castleton could not possibly have
+made a happier choice of the person who was
+to smooth the first entrance of Lucy into her
+new career.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Tudor was pleased at the extent of the
+confidence reposed in her, which Castleton
+limited to informing her, that his bride was a
+young person who had been educated in retirement,
+and consequently was not at all prepared
+for all the ways of the great world. And
+though activity was not any part of Mrs.
+Tudor’s excellence, yet this was just the sort
+of quiet exertion which only made her fancy
+herself occupied. She immediately fixed an
+early day for the Castleton’s to dine with her.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20"></span>Do not let the reader be alarmed with the idea,
+that that day is going to be made the subject
+of minute description. Suffice it to say,
+that good nature had, in this instance, its
+own reward, in pleasing those whom it was intended
+to gratify. Faultless was the dinner,
+faultless were the guests invited, and faultless,
+with pleasure let us add, was Lucy’s deportment
+during the whole of that day. Anxious
+as she had already become as to the impression
+which her conduct in these different circumstances
+should make upon Castleton, she was on
+this occasion re-assured by the kind consideration
+with which she was treated by all, and
+therefore bore her part without discredit or
+remark on those ordinary topics from which the
+conversation never soared.</p>
+
+<p>From Castleton’s lavish praises of her as they
+returned home in the carriage, she felt as if she
+must have done wonders, and therefore looked
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21"></span>forward without much dread, to the engagement
+she had made with Mrs. Tudor, to accompany
+her the following night to Lady
+Delacour’s ball.</p>
+
+<p>That style of beauty which is defined as the
+beauty of innocence, is sometimes supposed to
+be but little improved by dress; but such was
+not the opinion portrayed in the gratified expression
+of Lord Castleton’s countenance, when
+he witnessed the successful result of his wife’s
+toilet on the succeeding evening: for he thought
+he never saw her look one half so well—which
+judgment she read at once in his looks, and
+felt repaid for all she had gone through. The
+whole affair had been to her a most painful
+infliction. She had been in turns a victim in
+the hands of the milliner, the hair-dresser,
+and her own maid, each of whose successive
+operations she had at the time thought to be
+never ending. She bore the sufferings of a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22"></span>martyr with the patience of a saint. But as
+Castleton, having first sent the landau for the
+Tudors, that they might go together, in handing
+her into it, cast one more approving glance by
+the hall lamp, and pressed her hand encouragingly,
+she felt as if she was utterly indifferent
+as to what any one else thought of her. And
+though her diffidence so far returned, upon
+hearing her name shouted from hall to landing-place,
+and doorway to doorway, as to make an
+“O pray don’t” half pass her lips, addressed
+in a supplicatory tone to a peculiarly stentorian
+callman; yet upon entering the rooms, her
+admiration at the brilliancy of a scene so much
+beyond what she had previously conceived possible,
+gave to her countenance a subdued expression
+of enjoyment struggling with embarrassment,
+which to her style of beauty was peculiarly
+becoming.</p>
+
+<p>As she proceeded, under Mrs. Tudor’s arm,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23"></span>Castleton soon got separated from her by the
+crowd of acquaintances, who at that moment
+seemed to have no other object there than to
+welcome him back to London. After this had
+a little subsided, whilst jostled by that most
+fidgetting, unquiet, unaccommodating of all
+mobs, the hat-tugging, gown-tearing mob of
+fashion, he was of course subject occasionally
+to hear remarks which were not meant to meet
+his ear, but none as yet, which were not on the
+whole rather flattering than not. “Who is that
+pretty <em>new</em> girl with Mrs. Tudor?” “Where’s
+the <em>new</em> beauty—have you seen her?” “Who
+is that <em>new</em> woman every body is raving about?”
+It is true, in all these encomiums, the emphasis
+was on the word <em>new</em>, as if that was the great
+attraction; but at the same time, this, which
+seemed to imply most in itself, was always
+coupled with some favourable adjuncts.</p>
+
+<p>After a little, when it became more generally
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24"></span>known who she was, he observed that his
+vicinity often caused some half-vented exclamation
+or inquiry to be checked by the nudge
+of a neighbouring elbow; but even then this
+appeared to be more from the opinion being
+rather free and familiar in its expression, than
+unfavourable in its nature. He thought it as
+well to avoid as much as possible the running
+any more risks of this kind, and therefore,
+making his way out of that apartment where
+the crowd was thickest, he came unexpectedly
+in the next upon a select circle of admiring
+listeners, of which Lady Gayland was the centre
+of attraction. Their eyes met at the same instant;
+one moment she paused, though in the
+very agony of a half-finished <i lang="fr">bon mot</i>. She
+hesitated one moment more, then stretched out
+her hand to him, saying, “How is Lady Castleton?
+Is she here?”</p>
+
+<p>Mumbling his reply to this, from her, unexpected
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25"></span>question, he passed on. She renewed
+her sentence, but somehow omitted its point.
+Her hearers were much disappointed thereat,
+though some who listened were not aware of the
+fact. Amongst them was a foreign nobleman,
+to whom our old acquaintance, Peter Spencer,
+much to her annoyance, was showing off Lady
+Gayland, as a sort of literary lioness. The
+Count Finale was a gentlemanlike, inoffensive
+man, who had been much puzzled, upon first
+coming to this country, which of the two alternatives,
+offered to every foreigner, he had
+better select,—the could and would speak
+English line, or not. This is a very awkward
+choice to make, and there are so many
+disadvantages both ways, that it is really difficult
+to know which to recommend. All foreigners
+now, after a manner, speak English,
+and few like to do it, but they must profess
+both or neither, in the first case they are much
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26"></span>more generally well received, but get much less
+separate attention. They have more acquaintance
+but less society; for it is impossible that
+they can for some time make out the clipped,
+slovenly colloquy, in which so much the greater
+part of common conversation passes current.
+But the Count Finale had at length taken
+upon himself the alternative of assumed knowledge,
+the consequence of which was, that he
+was at the present moment in the most disagreeable
+situation for a gallant man, that of
+appearing to be more amused than he really
+was with a beautiful woman; for Lady Gayland’s
+thoughts flowed in much too rapid
+sketches for him to be able to follow them.</p>
+
+<p>“You are not aware, my dear Count,” said
+Peter Spencer, “that Lady Gayland is a dweller
+on Parnassus—that she makes up an even <em>half
+score</em> with the <em>Nine</em>; indeed, there’s hardly a
+<em>muse</em> whose department she might not double
+with advantage, upon occasion.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27"></span></p>
+
+<p>The habitual inattention which she always extended
+to every saying of Peter Spencer’s, might
+account for her taking no notice whatever of this
+pretty speech, without its being necessary to
+suppose that her thoughts were just then straying
+after that mental will-o’-the-wisp, the memory
+of by-gone visions. But Sir North Saunders,
+who was standing by, was determined not
+to let the conversation drop, therefore continued&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<p>“Seen Lady Gayland’s last little work—eh!
+Count?”</p>
+
+<p>“O pray, Sir North, don’t talk of one’s <em>work</em>,
+it sounds so mechanical—savours much more of
+the tambour frame than the printing press.
+Besides, work was a very appropriate description,
+when the brain was distilled by midnight
+oil in a lonely garret. But now the stud
+of letters is as light as the lives of the authors,
+who first <em>amuse</em> themselves, as the best way of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28"></span><em>amusing</em> their readers. Formerly even <em>plays</em>
+were <em>works</em>, but now any <em>work</em> is but <em>play</em>.
+Besides, from the days of Byron <a id="chg2"></a>downwards, if
+an author has passions he puts them into poetry—if
+foibles, he owns them with only the
+additional lackering of some imaginary merit,
+confesses himself grand but faulty—doubly gratifies
+his vanity, by being himself his own
+theme—puts but a little gilt paper upon the
+blackest parts of his character, and, in this May day
+finery, presents himself to an admiring
+world.”</p>
+
+<p>Lord Castleton, who had been hovering near,
+again approached, time enough to catch most
+of the last speech, and said more to the speaker
+herself, than those whom she had been addressing,</p>
+
+<p>“Heaven forefend that I should ever take
+pen in hand; but if I did, it would be to use
+myself as a warning, not a model. It would be
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29"></span>from the reverse of my own sentiments I should
+expect sympathy—from a contrast to my own
+conduct I should promise happiness.”</p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland cast one penetrating glance
+upon him, as if wishing to detect whether there
+was any particular meaning attached to so
+extraordinary an avowal; and then saying,
+“And this from a newly married man too,
+<i lang="it">che vergogna</i>,” she passed on.</p>
+
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30"></span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Three">III.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Methinks I play as I have seen them</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">In Whitsun past’rals: sure this robe of mine</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Does change my disposition.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">We are come to this great stage of fools&#x2060;—</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Wilt stay and see the revellers?</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Lucy had been very much admired by all to
+whom Mrs. Tudor had introduced her. A
+sweet smile, gentle manners, and the absence of
+any kind of pretension, are quite enough to be
+supposed agreeable, as well as attractive, by
+new acquaintances, in a mixed crowd. She
+was quite equal to reciprocating comments
+upon the merits of the fête, with those who,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31"></span>after presentation, hazarded two or three commonplace sentences; and if she did use an
+out-of-the-way phrase upon such an occasion, it
+was only reckoned original. Whilst thus occupied,
+she observed her kind friend of Hornscliff
+Abbey intently gazing on her, who, as
+soon as she saw that she was remarked, advanced
+towards Mrs. Tudor, and begged to be
+presented to Lady Castleton. Lucy was first
+puzzled at her former friend thinking it necessary
+to go through that ceremony, and to treat
+her as a stranger; but when Mrs. Tudor
+turned away to speak to some one, Lady Gayland
+said in somewhat an under tone, “Forgive
+me, dear Lady Castleton, if I suggest
+to you that, considering the circumstances under
+which we last met, it should not be known that
+we ever did meet before. It sounds odd advice;
+but I should particularly recommend
+that Lord Castleton should not know it. He is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32"></span>so very old an acquaintance of mine, that I
+think he will be better pleased in not knowing
+that I am also an old acquaintance of
+yours. But to prove to you that I consider
+myself as such, will you take a turn with me
+whilst Mrs. Tudor there is curing the cholera?
+You will see much more, by changing the pair
+of eyes by which you are shown all this phantasmagoria.”
+So saying, she linked her arm
+in Lucy’s, and they paraded through the suite of
+rooms.</p>
+
+<p>As they passed along, the flattering admiration
+of the surrounding throng was equally
+lost on both, though the sensations which
+produced that disregard were widely dissimilar.
+In one it arose from simple unconsciousness of
+the effect she produced, in the other from mere
+dislike at the open demonstration of that which
+she felt nevertheless to be her due.</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Lady Castleton,” said her companion;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33"></span>“I have no doubt you feel very
+strange in this unknown crowd.”</p>
+
+<p>“O I do indeed! and if you only knew how
+delightful it is to find myself talking with one,
+who I know, from experience, would on occasion
+be so kind to me:” and she clung more closely
+to Lady Gayland’s arm as she said it.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but I am afraid that if here no one
+was to talk, except with those whom they
+knew, if occasion served, would be kind to them,
+that it would rather resemble the Temple of
+Silence, than the Babel it now is. If I could
+only label these moving figures for your instruction,
+you would be astonished how soon
+you would get to know as much of them, as
+many who have for years what is called <em>lived</em>
+in their set. From a little observation, you
+would be able to detect whether they had neglected
+their dentist, enriched their milliner, or
+cashiered their <i lang="fr">coiffeur</i>; and that is about the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34"></span>whole knowledge which their friends, called
+intimate, have collected concerning them. This
+is called by some a mere marriage mart; that is,
+however, only one department in the bazaar of
+fashion; but the whole is, after all, but a sort
+of face-fair—a show of bipeds; and the stock
+know about as much of each other, as bullocks
+would from standing next stall.”</p>
+
+<p>“But surely you, Lady Gayland, are an
+exception; ever since I have been with you,
+you have spoken to so many people as if you
+knew them so well; and not one but has seemed
+to long to linger with you, had you not
+passed on.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why I, to be sure, upon the principle that
+lookers on see most of the game—I, who,
+having no husband, have not either to watch or
+be watched, and have, likewise, no daughter to
+mind, or mother to mind me, I am let a little
+behind the scenes, which only lets me a thousand
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35"></span>times more into the secret of the advantages
+of your present position, as an unseen
+<i lang="fr">debutante</i>. Why any mother in the room
+would think her daughter’s fortune certain,
+and would begin to criticise incumbrances in
+any offer beneath a dukedom, who had had
+half the pretty things said of her, that have
+this night been said of you; but that could
+only be the first night. No one knows so well
+as chaperon chapwomen the converse of the
+French proverb, <i lang="fr">Marchandise que plait, est à
+moitié vendue</i>. But I forget; perhaps you do
+not understand French,” added she kindly.</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed! I do not at all,” said Lucy,
+“though Castleton don’t like me to say so.”
+Adding this domestic explanation in a tone
+which perfectly conveyed to her auditress,
+“Though I have volunteered the confession,
+do not betray me to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is my fault for expressing myself in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36"></span>speckled language. It is a great fault, I own.
+A foreign phrase, like a piebald horse, has
+nothing to excuse the oddity of its use, but its
+being faultless and perfect in its form, and peculiarly
+adapted to the purpose to which it is
+applied. But see! here comes an old acquaintance
+of yours, Sir North Saunders; never
+mind, do not fear his recognizing you, for he
+moves about in a perpetual halo of selfishness,
+which prevents his clearly distinguishing what
+does not concern himself.”</p>
+
+<p>As she finished this piece of advice to Lucy,
+Sir North approached Lady Gayland, and addressed
+her.</p>
+
+<p>“Permit—in offering, as usual, adoration at
+my accustomed shrine,—may be allowed to add
+farther offerings at the side altar that now distracts
+my devotion. Will you present me to
+our friend’s beautiful bride, Lady Castleton?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sir North Saunders, as the most gallant
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37"></span>of men, is naturally anxious to make the
+acquaintance of his friend’s beautiful bride.
+Lord Castleton is his friend—you are the
+beautiful bride. Lady Castleton—Sir North
+Saunders! Sir North Saunders—Lady Castleton.
+There, that’s quite in order, is not
+it? And now permit the neglected shrine to
+move itself out of the renegade’s way.” And
+she took Lady Castleton’s other arm, which
+brought Lucy next to Sir North, who addressed
+her,</p>
+
+<p>“Never more thoroughly convinced of the
+pre-eminence of Castleton’s universally acknowledged
+taste.”</p>
+
+<p>A formal curvature of his short fat figure was
+meant to complete the compliment inferred in
+this half finished sentence; but Lucy only looked
+confused and uneasy, as she could not yet persuade
+herself that those little grey eyes, which
+she had last seen fixed on her, with all the assumed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38"></span>appearance of intense scrutiny, could so
+soon have ceased to reflect any trace of her
+identity. Sir North therefore continued&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<p>“Earliest friend—flatter myself, of Castleton.—Came
+of age as Horncliffe—arrived at years
+of discretion—rather <i lang="fr">volage</i> in those days. You
+ladies never like your husbands the worse for
+that, in the preterpluperfect time. Hope to
+have the pleasure of seeing you at Hornscliff
+Abbey. Your friend, Lady Gayland, behaved
+very shabbily,—actually run away—second day—mus’n’t
+do that.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Sir North, you know I was
+obliged, and couldn’t help myself; but I assure
+you, Lady Castleton, you’ll find Sir North
+sometimes tyrannical in the extent to which he
+pushes hospitality. Do you know, now, if he
+thought there was any chance of your making
+your escape, I shouldn’t wonder if he was actually
+to lock you up. Only think of that—lock
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39"></span>you up,—yes, positively keep you under
+lock and key!”</p>
+
+<p>“Really, my dear Lady, that is rather a
+worn-out attack upon me. However, it is, to
+be sure, perfectly new to Lady Castleton. You
+don’t know, perhaps, that this joke originated
+in Lady Gayland’s having taken a prodigious
+fancy to the society of a pretty vagrant, brought
+up before me as a disorderly person. Poz—believe
+she left Hornscliff, because I wouldn’t
+ask the fair tramper to my table.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come, Sir North, you had better say no
+more on that subject,” said Lady Gayland,
+seeing it distressed Lucy. “I can assure you
+Lady Castleton won’t think the better of you
+for it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Scrupulously avoid any unfavourable impression
+in such a quarter.—Hope to be able to
+convince you that Hornscliff is not such a dungeon.
+Not much used, apparently, to the hardships
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40"></span>of rural routine. No fear of being exposed
+to the fatigues of sight-seeing at Hornscliff,—never
+be required to pound along in
+clogs. Confine yourself, if you like, to the
+thirty-yard terrace, along which Mrs. Macangle
+used once, before dusk, to glide, in green satin
+slippers, to match its velvety surface.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll tell you what, though, Sir North,”
+said Lady Gayland, “if I had staid at Hornscliff
+Abbey, I should have voted your terrace
+<em>flat</em> as well as level. A country morning ought
+to be as varied as a London evening; though
+the monotony of the first half of the day here,
+and the latter there, is unavoidable.</p>
+
+<p>“Always ready to adapt myself to the taste
+of my guests. Once,—years ago, when your
+husband was a very young man, Lady Castleton,
+I remember we did make a most extraordinary
+expedition to a strange out-of-the-way
+place, called Morden Bay. But if Castleton
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41"></span>ever mentioned the circumstance, I dare say
+his recollection was not of the distance being
+so formidable, for he was in love then.”</p>
+
+<p>“In love!” thought Lucy. “Was his early
+partiality for me, then, already suspected?”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t be alarmed, Lady Castleton. She
+of whom I speak,” continued Sir North, “could
+never have been your rival, even if she had
+been your contemporary; but hers was the
+reign of another generation. Poor Lady Madelina
+Manfred! Castleton was her last conquest—certainly
+made the most of him while it lasted.
+Ah, Castleton, just in time to prevent the exposure
+of your past peccadilloes to your wife.”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton gave him an inquiring stare, which
+seemed to say, “I do think you very impertinent,
+but I won’t tell you so for fear of provoking
+a continuance of the same:” and then
+turning to Lady Gayland, said earnestly, “I
+cannot tell you how kind I think it of <em>you</em> to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42"></span>have taken such care of my inexperienced <i lang="fr">debutante</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight emphasis on the words
+“<em>of you</em>,” which might imply that it was what
+he had no reason to expect of her in particular;
+but if such was its signification, Lady Gayland
+took no notice of it, only replying, “I have
+been endeavouring to persuade Lady Castleton
+to accompany me to my box at the opera tomorrow
+night; she says she has never been
+there.”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton would have found it difficult to
+separate the notions, or to analyze the feelings,
+which induced him so readily to accept this
+offer of Lady Gayland’s. And it was thus
+they separated the first night of their renewed
+acquaintance, after a long interval, and under
+much altered circumstances. Castleton was in
+spirits during the return homewards; and as
+soon as they had deposited the Tudors, and he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43"></span>was left alone with Lucy, delighted her with
+his praises of her deportment during the whole
+evening, saying, “I am sure you must have
+been all I could have wished, to have pleased
+Lady Gayland.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I am sure,” said Lucy, “she is the
+person next to yourself whose good opinion I
+should most wish to gain.”</p>
+
+<p>But in spite of this, which was indeed the
+utterance of her real feelings towards that lady,
+Lucy was not quite contented with herself, or
+with that society which had produced such a feeling
+of self-dissatisfaction on her part. It would
+have been inconvenient, considering Castleton’s
+dislike to such a discovery, to have been recognized
+by Sir North; but it is never very welcome
+to a young and pretty woman to have
+been so soon and so completely forgotten, even
+by Sir North Saunders, particularly as the
+terms in which alone her other self had been
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44"></span>mentioned were so little flattering. She could
+not but remember that she was still the same
+person; that it was no difference either in her
+character or identity, but merely the act of another,
+which caused her to be now so differently
+considered in that society to which he had
+raised her.</p>
+
+<p>But the part which hurt her most was the
+new version which had that night been given
+by Sir North, to the attraction which rendered
+interesting to Castleton his former visit to
+Morden Bay.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy’s diffidence as to her own merits and
+unlimited sense of Castleton’s superiority, had
+often made her wonder why, courted as she
+saw he still was, admired as she believed he
+must always have been, he should nevertheless
+have diverged from his natural sphere of triumph
+on purpose to win her from her remote
+seclusion. Yet with all her modest astonishment
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45"></span>that such should have been the case, she
+still clung to the idea that at dear Morden Bay,
+at least, she was supreme, that there “her reign
+there was none to dispute;” and of all the
+splendid gifts with which he had presented her
+since their marriage, there was none in her eyes
+which had half the value of the little French
+watch given on the occasion of that first visit
+to Morden Bay, and to which she always referred
+with pleasure, as proving the consistency
+and permanence of his attachment, whenever a
+painful sensation of inferiority made her almost
+question its possibility.</p>
+
+<p>The idea, therefore, started by Sir North,
+that at that time it was the company of another
+which alone made the expedition to Morden
+Bay tolerable to him, was most annoying to
+Lucy. She longed to question her husband on
+the subject, but dared not.</p>
+
+<p>This was an unfortunate effect of the timidity
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46"></span>which rather increased towards him, the longer
+they continued to live together, without establishing
+any habits of confidence between them,
+which, though most indulgent to her in every
+other respect, Castleton never encouraged, from
+feeling a growing distrust of the power of her
+intellect to reciprocate confidential communications.
+Had she happily ventured to mention
+what Sir North had hinted to her, of the companion
+he had had tacked to him at the time
+of that expedition, Lucy would have found
+with pleasure, that nothing had so much contributed
+to the cure of the sickly delusion
+under which Castleton was then labouring, as
+the first sight of herself on the shore of Morden
+Bay.</p>
+
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Four">IV.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent8">She, ’midst the gay world’s hum,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Was the queen-bee—the glass of all that’s fair;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Whose charms made all men speak, and women dumb&#x2060;—</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">The last’s a miracle.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">That strain again—It had a dying fall;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">O it came o’er my ear like the sweet south</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">That breathes upon a bank of violets,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Stealing and giving odour. Enough—no more&#x2060;—</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> so happened that the Italian Opera was the
+first scenic exhibition of any description at
+which Lucy had ever been present. If such
+amusements had been of easier attainment from
+Bankside Farm, Mrs. Darnell would have
+thought a play-bill only a synonymous term for
+a sure pass to perdition. Alice Darnell, it is
+true, through all her sorrows, had always retained
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48"></span>a lingering partiality for a “metior,”
+in which she had during her short career been
+so eminently successful; and she often took
+pleasure in attempting to explain to her little
+niece, whilst reading parts of Shakspeare, the
+effect that might be produced by the impersonation
+of the characters by different actors;
+but still, no previous description can give to a
+person who has never witnessed it, any adequate
+idea of the power of perfect dramatic representation.
+Lucy would have been much astonished
+if taken for the first time to one of our great
+national theatres, where she would at least have
+understood the language, and made out the
+intentions of the performers. But Castleton
+was, except upon extraordinary occasions, a
+creature of habit. Winter was past—spring
+was already advanced. As Covent Garden
+market comes into season, Covent Garden
+Theatre goes out, and Lucy was taken for the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49"></span>first time, to the Italian Opera; and to the
+effect of novelty which any thing of the kind
+would have produced on her, were added the
+perfectly unintelligible incongruities of that
+style of performance.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps when given in perfection, there is
+no description of scenic representation which
+opens a more varied source of enjoyment to an
+habitual frequenter of theatres. But then the
+rudiments of dramatic representation must have
+been first understood. The merits of an accurate
+imitation of nature must not only first
+have been tasted, but the pleasure derived from
+that pure source, must in some measure have
+been exhausted, before the graft of song upon
+incident and character, could be relished.</p>
+
+<p>There is, perhaps, nothing yet produced by
+the progress of civilization, so thoroughly artificial
+as an Italian opera; and to a child of
+nature like Lucy, it may be imagined, that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50"></span>much that night was perfectly incomprehensible.
+As long as deadly defiance is hurled in
+the most perfect concord—voices ringing in
+harmony, whilst swords are brandishing in enmity—the
+crisis of fate consumed in repeating,
+some hundred times, some Italian paraphrase
+of “I cannot stay, I must away,” which practical
+performance of an alleged impossibility, is
+probably encored—the most confidential communications
+of the most disordered despair
+given over the lamps in the most elaborate
+<i lang="fr">roulades</i>, whilst four-and-twenty old maids
+all in a row, repeat together at stated intervals
+“Poor thing! Poor thing—how very much
+we all pity you!”—whilst thus upon every
+occasion sense is sacrificed to sound, it would
+appear that assumption of character must be a
+mere mockery. Yet this is far from being the
+case. In losing the verisimility of nature, the
+unity of effect as a whole is of course destroyed;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51"></span>yet so powerful is the additional impulse given
+to the excited senses, by the aid of appropriate
+music adapted to the action portrayed, that perhaps
+much the most brilliant movements of the
+mimic art have been of late years on the Italian
+boards. And the night in question was rich
+in examples of that description, for the opera
+was Semiramide, and the finest living actress
+of the world, the splendid Pasta, was the heroine.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland’s box was upon the pit tier,
+more upon the stage than over the orchestra.
+Lady Gayland, passionately fond of music as
+she was, had already arrived when Castleton
+and his wife entered. Lady Castleton sat in
+front next the stage, Lady Gayland on the
+opposite side, with her back to the audience,
+and Castleton beside her. Partly from the
+earliness of the hour, and partly from the interest
+of the performance of that opera, then
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52"></span>new to this country, they remained long without
+any additional visitors. Every thing was
+a matter of bewilderment to Lucy, from the
+very first crash of the overture, which, except
+the war of the winter waves, was the loudest
+sound she had ever heard.</p>
+
+<p>As subjects of astonishment and admiration
+accumulated in the opera, she became confused
+with their multitude, and ashamed to show the
+extent to which she was puzzled, by asking
+any questions. Lady Gayland’s good-natured
+attempt to explain the story as it proceeded,
+was not very successful, as Lucy could not
+retain either the real or assumed names of the
+persons described, so as to be able to identify
+them again; and the nature of the (to her)
+strange costumes, puzzled her even as to which
+were meant for men, and which for women.
+The choruses she could not at all understand.
+She longed to ask how so many people could
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53"></span>think of singing exactly the same words all
+together, unless it had been a psalm. The
+finely executed elongation of a high note, to
+her ignorant simplicity, seemed only an unmeaning
+squall.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, Castleton and Lady
+Gayland were in a state of <a id="chg4"></a>ecstasy only known
+to the true “Fanatici,” an enjoyment certainly
+much enhanced to both of them by their being
+able mutually to communicate their sensations.
+It has been remarked, that the peculiar character
+of Castleton was the refinement of his
+taste, which was on some occasions much too
+fastidious for his happiness; but in nothing
+was his taste more perfect than in music,
+though he was often too much of an enthusiast
+to be a very captious critic.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton and Lady Gayland had often together
+heard and admired Pasta in the same
+opera in Italy; and whilst they therefore anticipated
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54"></span>the brilliancy of each well-known
+passage, or subsequently discussed its comparative
+merit, now and the last time they had
+heard it, Lucy could not conceive how it was
+possible for any one to remember sounds so
+long.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps that sympathy which depends on
+sound is, of all others, the most independent of
+events, the most survives change, or despises
+distance. It may be, that when any similarity
+occurs, the points of difference are not so distinguishable
+by the ear as by the eye; but
+certainly in foreign lands the tone of a bell, or
+even the whistling of the wind, will sometimes
+recall a distant home more strongly than any
+likeness in the outline of the landscape. And
+amongst individuals the recollection of a loved
+and a lost one is sometimes casually revived by
+a well-known intonation, or even emphasis, in
+the mouth of an indifferent relative, when no
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55"></span>family resemblance of feature would have been
+admitted. Be this as it may, the impression
+now made on Castleton and Lady Gayland, as
+the opera proceeded, and each well-remembered
+cadence recurred was, that here again were the
+same syren sounds which they had together
+heard, together admired. Even so had they
+then sat, side by side; yet how changed
+in every respect now was their relative position!</p>
+
+<p>“I remember,” said Castleton, in answer to
+some remark of Lady Gayland’s, “you made
+a similar observation to me last time we heard
+it—it was the night before I left Naples.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said Lady Gayland, “and Frank
+Melmoth was sitting, as it might be, where
+Lady Castleton now is—I have never seen him
+either, since that night.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have never seen him since that
+night?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56"></span></p>
+
+<p>“No; the pennyless treasurer passed on to
+his appropriate post in one of the colonies.”</p>
+
+<p>“And after that night you <em>never</em> saw him?”
+eagerly asked Castleton.</p>
+
+<p>“Never,” replied Lady Gayland calmly,
+clearing her “<em>longnettes</em>,” and directing them
+towards the stage with a “<i lang="fr">sang froid</i>” that
+seemed to convey the idea that the fact was one
+which neither had then made any impression on
+her, nor did she wish that its recital should now
+make any on her auditor.</p>
+
+<p>It will not be necessary to inflict on the
+reader any speculation upon the nature of those
+mixed reflections which, during the next few
+minutes of silence, whilst they were apparently
+absorbed in attention to the performance, distracted
+the attention of the two musical amateurs.
+It will be sufficient to explain that this
+Frank Melmoth was rather a popular character,
+though what is commonly called a cool hand.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57"></span>It was impossible to deny that he was amusing;
+though not witty, he was funny,—a characteristic
+acquired by a mixture of impudence and
+humour, which forms a sort of chemical compound,
+often substituted for the real attic salt.
+There were moments when it rather suited
+Lady Gayland’s humour to be amused than
+interested, and of these Frank Melmoth availed
+himself during his stay at Naples, on his way to
+the distant sinecure which his necessities had
+obliged him to accept. A widow is said to be
+the reverse of a sinecure, but he thought that a
+jointure, even with its lively accompaniment,
+was better than being buried alive with a pension;
+and therefore did his best to win her
+favour: in which attempt he soon detected
+Castleton to be a formidable rival; and in his
+endeavours to overcome that obstacle, Frank
+Melmoth was up to a certain point successful.
+He had certainly most powerful weapons with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58"></span>which to work, in Lady Gayland’s keen relish
+for ridicule, and Castleton’s morbid sense of its
+slightest application to himself. Not only did
+he sometimes succeed in amusing Lady Gayland
+at Castleton’s expense, but in causing her
+demonstration of that amusement to be offensive
+to Castleton’s taste, as well as hurtful to his
+feelings. Lady Gayland was afraid that she
+had already shown herself too sensible of the
+partiality of her sensitive admirer, to render
+these playful ebullitions on her part of more
+than momentary impression; but Castleton,
+whose feelings were too irritable on this subject
+for his judgment to be very sound, thought
+that he perceived in her readiness, when in a
+merry mood, to seek amusement from the society
+of Frank Melmoth, another proof that (like the
+young lady whom he mentioned in his letter
+to his friend St. Clair,) if she hesitated
+between them, it was only the adventitious
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59"></span>advantages of his position in the world which
+rendered her choice doubtful, otherwise her
+preference would have been decidedly accorded
+to the needy Frank Melmoth.</p>
+
+<p>This was an opinion which Frank did every
+thing in his power to confirm. He had, indeed,
+induced Castleton by this means to hasten his
+departure from Naples, and as he was obliged
+himself to proceed soon, if not successful in his
+then pursuit, he had succeeded in driving
+Castleton from the box at San Carlo that night,
+<i lang="it">in dispetto</i> with himself, and fancying that
+he was leaving behind a triumphant rival, who
+five minutes afterwards brought upon himself
+the sudden termination of all his hopes by an
+abrupt proposal, which was summarily and
+concisely rejected, and the next morning,
+which saw Castleton flying with foaming steeds
+in imaginary discomfiture over the Pontine
+Marshes, saw Frank Melmoth thoroughly defeated,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60"></span>paddling in a sulky steam-boat out
+of the bay of Naples. It may therefore be
+seen, that if in the reflections which the
+same opera, seen again together, mutually
+aroused, there was any food for regret—that
+regret could on neither side be entirely unmingled
+with self-reproach. Thoughtlessness
+had made Lady Gayland assume the appearance
+of what she was far from being—a coquette;
+and in Castleton’s case, distrust of
+himself had made him most unjust to another
+whom he had then no right to doubt.</p>
+
+<p>Towards the conclusion of the opera, these
+reflections were interrupted by the dropping in,
+in succession, of many “a young man about
+town,” <a id="chg3"></a><i lang="fr">habitués</i> of Lady Gayland’s box, whose
+nightly visit had this time a double motive, as
+they were all anxious to have a nearer view of
+the “new woman,” whom they had been admiring
+from a distance.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61"></span></p>
+
+<p>At the conclusion of the opera, this rotation
+proceeded rapidly; and Lucy was presented to
+an undistinguishable succession of young gentlemen,
+with black heads and neckcloths, who
+had each hardly time to mutter, “how divine
+Pasta had been!” when another and another
+still succeeded.</p>
+
+<p>Through all this Castleton had kept his
+station by the side of Lady Gayland, by a sort
+of brevet rank, which the presence of his bride
+gave him. Latterly, the society had again
+become more stationary. Next to Castleton
+was his friend St. Clair, with whom he was
+soon engaged in an interesting conversation.
+Opposite to them was Lord Stayinmore, who
+had never more than a certain set of phrases
+to address to a lady. Having exhausted these
+to Lucy, he suffered himself to be engrossed
+by Sir North, on his other side, in a political
+discussion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62"></span></p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland, therefore, took the opportunity
+of inquiring of Lucy, “how the opera
+had amused her?” There was that unmistakable
+air of real interest in Lady Gayland’s
+manner, whenever she addressed Lucy, which
+made her always reply in a tone of confidence,
+different from that which she felt towards any
+other member of the society in which she
+moved.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, to tell the honest truth,” said she,
+leaning forward towards her questioner, “I
+can’t say that I could the least understand
+what it all meant. It’s not likely that people
+should sing when they’re in such sorrow; and
+then I can’t guess why that young man should
+kill the queen that was so kind to him all
+along.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t wonder that that should surprise
+you, my dear; but he was not aware of what
+he was doing. It was in the dark.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63"></span></p>
+
+<p>“In the dark! But I could see very well
+who it was, though I did not know her so
+well as he did, and was so much farther off.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid you are in the dark, too, a
+little as yet,” said Lady Gayland, (tapping
+her gently with her fan.) “But, tell me, did
+you not admire the singing, though you could
+not understand the story?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, I should, perhaps, if I had known
+the language; but even then they seemed to
+me more like birds, than men and women singing
+words. I like a song that I can make out
+every word that’s said, just as cousin George
+used to sing.”</p>
+
+<p>She rather dropped her voice at the last half
+sentence, but not so much as for it to escape
+the quick ear of Castleton, who turned sharply
+round, even before Lady Gayland asked, “And
+who, pray, is cousin George, my dear?”</p>
+
+<p>“A relative of Lady Castleton’s, who is
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64"></span>in the navy,” answered Castleton for her; and
+then turned round to St. Clair again, as if,
+though having heard it he had answered it,
+it was nevertheless a question of no moment.</p>
+
+<p>The overture to the ballet, just then commencing
+with a crash, Lady Gayland took
+advantage of that moment to beckon Lucy
+towards her, and whisper, “At Hornscliff that
+day, was he not?” and on her assenting, Lady
+Gayland raised her finger to her lip in token of
+silence on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain then rose for the ballet; at
+first, Lucy was delighted with the scenery
+and pageantry, for the spectacle was grand
+and imposing. But at length the resounding
+plaudits announced the <i lang="fr">entrée</i> of the perfect
+Taglioni. Lucy was a little astonished at her
+costume upon her first appearance. She was
+attired as a goddess, and goddesses’ gowns are
+somewhat of the shortest, and their legs rather
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65"></span><i lang="fr">au naturel</i>; but when she came to elicit universal
+admiration by pointing her toe, and
+revolving in the slow <i lang="fr">pirouette</i>, Lucy, from the
+situation in which she sat, was overpowered with
+shame at the effect; and whilst Lady Gayland,
+with her <em>longnette</em> fixed on the stage, ejaculated,
+“Beautiful! inimitable!” the unpractised
+Lucy could not help exclaiming, “O
+that is too bad! I cannot stay to see that!”
+and she turned her head away, blushing
+deeply.</p>
+
+<p>“Is your ladyship ill?” exclaimed Lord
+Stayinmore. “Castleton, I am afraid Lady
+Castleton feels herself indisposed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Would you like to go?” kindly inquired
+Castleton.</p>
+
+<p>“O so much!” she answered.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you ill, my dear?” asked Lady Gayland.</p>
+
+<p>“O no!” she said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Then you had better stay, it is so beautiful.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, Lord Castleton is kind enough
+to let me go.”</p>
+
+<p>Which he did, still imagining that she had
+been suddenly taken ill. Therefore St. Clair
+volunteered to call her carriage—Lord Stayinmore
+bowed his lowest as she passed—Sir
+North reached his highest to help her on with
+her cloak—Lady Gayland took leave of her
+most kindly—and Castleton attending her with
+the greatest care, she was safely conveyed to
+the carriage; and it was not till then that he
+entreated an explanation of what had really
+been the cause of her sudden departure.</p>
+
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Five">V.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent8">Oh, brave new world,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">That hath such people in it!</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Those that are good manners at the court, are as ridiculous in the country.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“<span class="smcap">And</span> how do you find yourself now, my dear
+Lucy?” tenderly inquired Castleton, as the
+carriage drove off.</p>
+
+<p>“O I am quite well, thank you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Quite well! are you? What was it, then,
+that was the matter with you?”</p>
+
+<p>“There was nothing the matter with me; it
+was that woman.”</p>
+
+<p>“What woman? what can you mean?
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68"></span>Did you not say that you were ill; and was
+not that the reason that we hurried away?”</p>
+
+<p>“No! <span class="allsmcap">YOU</span> said I was ill; and I did not
+contradict you, because you tell me that in the
+world, as you call it, it is not always right to
+give the real reason for what we do; and
+therefore I thought, perhaps, that though of
+course you wished me to come away, you liked
+to put it upon my being ill.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I wished you to come away! I
+was never more unwilling to move in all my
+life; and nothing but consideration for your
+health would have induced me to stir. Why
+should I have wished you to come away?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, the naked woman,” stammered Lucy.</p>
+
+<p>“What can you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“You couldn’t surely wish me to sit by the
+side of those people, to see such a thing as
+that?”</p>
+
+<p>“As to being by the side of those people, I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69"></span>must remind you, that it was Lady Gayland’s
+box in which you were; and that whatever
+she, with her acknowledged taste and refinement,
+sanctions with her presence, can only be
+objected to by ignorance or prejudice. You
+have still a great deal to learn, my dear Lucy,”
+added he, more kindly; “and nothing can be
+so fatal to your progress in that respect, as
+your attempting to lead, or to find fault, with
+what you do not understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“But surely I can understand that it is not
+right to do what I saw that woman do,” interrupted
+Lucy, presuming a little more doggedly
+than she usually ventured to do on any
+subject with her husband; for this time she
+had been really shocked by what she had seen.</p>
+
+<p>“Wrong it certainly is not, if you mean
+moral wrong. As to such an exhibition being
+becoming or not in point of manners, that depends
+entirely upon custom. Many things at
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70"></span>your father’s might strike me as coarsenesses,
+which made no impression upon you from
+habit, though much worse in my opinion than
+this presumed indecorum. Those things probably
+arose from ignorance on your parts,
+which might be corrected. This, on the other
+hand, from conventional indifference, consequent
+on custom, which it is not in you to
+correct. Depend upon it you will only get
+yourself laughed at, and me too, if you preach
+about dancers’ petticoats.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t want to preach to any body; and
+you know how much it fashes me to contend
+with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t say <span class="allsmcap">FASHES</span>, say distresses, or annoys,
+not <em>fashes</em>, for heaven’s sake, my dear Lucy.”</p>
+
+<p>“O dear, it was very stupid of me to forget
+it. That was one of the first things you
+taught me, and it is a many days since I said
+it last; but it is so strange to me to venture
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71"></span>to differ with you, that I get confused, and
+don’t say any thing as right as I could do.
+Even now I should like to ask, if modesty is a
+merit, whether nakedness ought to be a show;
+but I’ll say no more, for I dare say you won’t
+make me go there again.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, that will be the best way to settle it.
+Certainly, if it is no enjoyment to you, it would
+be much better that you should not go at all,
+than make yourself particular by imagining
+evil where there is none. One thing more I
+must remark to you, and I may as well do it
+at once, as I had always rather get over any
+thing that assumes the odious shape of a lecture,
+and have done with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know what you are going to say, I’m
+sure,” said Lucy, feeling rather bolder than
+usual, from her present position. The obscurity,
+easy motion, and rumbling accompaniment
+of a London chariot, have often promoted confidences
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72"></span>which no other relative situations have
+elicited. “I know what you are going to say.
+I ought not to have thought about cousin George.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thought about him! no! It was not
+that I meant. I was going to say, that no
+person in good society talks about <span class="allsmcap">COUSIN</span>
+George. Call him <em>George</em>, if you must
+mention him; though his accomplishments
+cannot be a very interesting topic to any one
+you are likely to see here. I am sure if he
+had been known to them, the idea of your
+boasting of his singing must have seemed still
+more absurd. Stentorian lungs, and uproarious
+merriment, must have been his principal qualifications.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, he could sing with great feeling
+sometimes,” Lucy could not help adding; and
+then checking <a id="chg5"></a>herself, “but I ought certainly
+to have recollected, that you have no reason to
+like him; and though in his case you returned
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73"></span>good for evil, you are not like to fancy much
+hearing him praised by me.”</p>
+
+<p>This was not exactly the footing upon which
+Castleton would have wished to have left the
+subject, but just then the carriage stopped at
+home, and Lucy, when he handed her out said,</p>
+
+<p>“I am so very sorry that I have <em>annoyed</em>
+you; that’s the right word, is not it? And
+I’m sure it’s the right feeling.”</p>
+
+<p>After this he could not but think that any renewal
+of any of the topics in dispute, would be
+unkind and harsh on his part.</p>
+
+<p>“I wish to ask a great favour, my dear
+Lord,” said Lucy, anxiously, as they were
+seated the next morning at breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>“Speak on, my dear,” said he, rather fearing
+some unsuitable request.</p>
+
+<p>“I wish you would be good enough to tell
+me how I could make myself most like Lady
+Gayland.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Make yourself like Lady Gayland! why
+should you wish it?” inquired he, at once
+struck with the impossibility of her succeeding
+in such an attempt.</p>
+
+<p>“Because I feel that I admire her even more
+than I love her, and that is difficult.—So easy in
+her cleverness as she is, and so kind to others—so
+good as she was to me once!”</p>
+
+<p>“Once! when?”</p>
+
+<p>“I should have said <em>always</em>, for she is always
+kind to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Lucy, I will not pretend to be
+otherwise than much pleased at the desire you
+have expressed; which shows that you must
+have taste to appreciate what you desire to
+imitate. But at the same time, believe me,
+there would be nothing more impossible to imitate
+than that ease, or rather absence of effect
+in cleverness, which struck even you so much in
+Lady Gayland. You have a thousand other
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75"></span>charms of your own equally estimable, but perhaps
+the greatest is that perfect nature which is
+incompatible with imitation. One thing, however,
+I can recommend, as you introduced the
+subject, and think not in alluding to it I am
+reviving, with any unpleasant feeling, the occurrences
+of yesterday evening. But if my
+pretty little Lucy need not attempt to be like,
+as little need she endeavour to be unlike, Lady
+Gayland; and if you do not emulate as necessary,
+as little need you avoid as wrong, any
+thing you observe in that accomplished person.”</p>
+
+<p>“At any rate if it is only to direct me thus
+far, I hope at least you think that the more
+I see of Lady Gayland the better.”</p>
+
+<p>And to this Lucy received no negative from
+Castleton.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland probably deceived herself in
+the nature of the motives and feelings which
+induced her to acquiesce in the desire, equally
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76"></span>obvious on the part both of Castleton and
+Lucy, that their intercourse with her should
+ripen into intimacy. She certainly thought
+that the interest with which Lucy had inspired
+her, did not depend at all upon the person she
+had married, but that, on the contrary, had
+Castleton married any one else, past recollection
+would have induced her rather to avoid
+him. The singular nature of her first meeting
+with Lucy, combined with the strange coincidence
+of her again crossing her path in so
+different a rank in life, and the mystery in
+which that elevation was involved, would in her
+imaginative brain have given a romantic charm
+to the acquaintance, independent of the fact,
+that the precise fate which must have been so
+unexpectedly thrust on her, whom she had
+known so forlorn and lonely, was what, till
+lately, she had herself considered as one which
+was hers either to accept or refuse.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77"></span></p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland’s proud spirit, and conscious
+elevation of intellect, would certainly prevent
+her from long pining after one who had appeared
+to slight her preference; and the manner
+of Castleton’s departure from Naples had undoubtedly
+exposed him to such an imputation.
+But during their mutual residence in Italy,
+Castleton had certainly made a serious impression
+on one whose heart was as sensitive as
+her fancy was volatile. Sympathy of feeling
+is by no means inconsistent with contrast in
+character. Her exuberant spirits animated his
+more placid sense of enjoyment; and a smile of
+approbation from him conferred more pleasure
+on her, than the noisy applause of others. Her
+brilliant wit excited his dormant fancy into
+more active exertion, which the fastidiousness
+of his taste might otherwise have checked; and
+the acknowledged correctness of that taste confined
+the soaring flights of her fancy within the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78"></span>limits of approval. Thus the very variety of
+their genius only elicited, in greater perfection,
+that cultivation of intellect which was equally
+remarkable in both; and whilst rivalry was
+thus avoided, admiration was reciprocal.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Six">VI.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">And looking stedfastly at her, she sighed,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">As if she pitied her for being there,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">A pretty stranger without friend or guide,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And all abash’d, too, at the general stare.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>“<span class="smcap">I have</span> invited a few friends to dine with
+us,” said Castleton, some little time after the
+incidents of the last chapter. “I suppose you
+will wish Lady Gayland to be one.”</p>
+
+<p>“O by all means,” readily answered Lucy.
+“I always feel so much more at my ease when
+she is by; not only she is always so kind to
+me; but wherever <em>she</em> is, every one must be
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80"></span>occupied with her, so that if I am awkward or
+not, no one has leisure to mark it.”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton, whose dinners had always been
+“<i lang="fr">recherché</i>,” as a batchelor, had hitherto felt
+nervous as to Lucy’s being able to pass the
+critical examination of a long London dinner,
+but at last having for some time not detected
+any glaring impropriety in her deportment, he
+became again desirous to collect his friends
+around him at his own table.</p>
+
+<p>It has been remarked before, that neither
+politics nor any of the graver avocations of life
+had ever had much charm for Castleton. Society,
+which to men of more active pursuits is
+but a relaxation, was to him an occupation. It
+was the field in which must be maintained
+his position as a critic, connoisseur, and man
+of unrivalled taste. And where society is a
+<i lang="fr">métier</i>, the man who gives dinners differs
+as much from one who does not, as the <em>ins</em>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81"></span>from the <em>outs</em> in politics,—one may earn some
+empty fame, but the other has the real following.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening of Castleton’s first dinner,
+Lucy had finished her toilet early. Anxious to
+gratify her husband with a change, she had for
+the first time adopted a novelty in her costume—abandoning
+her usual ringlets, she had had her
+fine hair simply parted across her forehead,
+adopting this mode, though not so much in the
+fashion, in imitation of Lady Gayland, on
+whom she had often admired its effect.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps, generally speaking, it would be as
+safe to ape oddity of conversation without the
+wit which excites it, as to imitate any peculiarity
+in dress, which might only be becoming
+to its inventor. But in this instance, Lucy’s
+attempt was successful, for the same chaste
+classical setting which added elevation to the
+thought-thronged brow of her gifted prototype,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82"></span>suited admirably the simplicity of her
+own pure and innocent countenance.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy’s first glance at the mirror as she entered
+the drawing-room, convinced her that the
+effect was favourable, and she waited with the
+impatience of agreeable expectation for Castleton’s
+opinion, which she had no doubt he would
+express at once upon seeing her. It was, therefore,
+a matter of disappointment to her, that
+when he entered, it was in one of those absent
+and pre-occupied moods in which a man looks
+at all things without seeing any.</p>
+
+<p>Many little harmless artifices did poor Lucy
+play off to endeavour to attract his attention
+before any of the company should arrive, and
+thus prevent his expressing that approbation
+which she hoped she had earned. She could
+not help thinking that the more she looked at
+him, the more he must look at her, and therefore
+with a gaze that seemed to require reciprocity,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83"></span>kept her eyes fixed on him, through all
+his fidgetty and evidently uneasy movements.</p>
+
+<p>The cause of this strange deportment on his
+part, arose from a note he had found, upon his
+return home, from Sir North Saunders, containing
+an acceptance of a verbal invitation he had
+given him somewhat late to dine with him that
+day.</p>
+
+<p>The party which he had invited was not a
+large one, though somewhat mixed. The only
+ladies were Lady Gayland and Mrs. Tudor.
+He had carefully avoided any practised scoffers,
+lest a <i lang="fr">manque des convenances</i>, on Lucy’s part,
+should unhappily furnish them with a ready
+subject for ridicule on the morrow. But the
+sight of Sir North addressing Lucy, without
+the slightest suspicion, as a person he had never
+seen before, always gave him comfort, as reassuring
+him as to the impossibility of her ever
+being recognized as having been connected with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84"></span>the trial at ——. He had, therefore, on
+meeting Sir North, pressed him to dine with
+him, and on Sir North regretting that his having
+asked a friend himself, rendered it impossible,
+Castleton had rather imprudently
+extended the invitation to the said friend, to
+which Sir North demurred at the time, but
+had since wrote to say—“Proud to present to
+your more special notice—rising young man—particular
+friend,—Peter Spencer.”</p>
+
+<p>Now not only did Castleton, from all he had
+heard, as well as the little he had seen of
+Peter Spencer, dislike him particularly, but he
+was also aware, that if ever the identity of
+Lady Castleton with the Lucy Darnell of the
+assizes was to be detected, it was most likely to
+be effected by the prying Peter Spencer, who
+was also one of the very few people who could
+recollect her in the former situation. He had,
+therefore, as much as he could, avoided that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85"></span>individual, which, as Spencer now affected professional
+practice, and therefore made but rare
+apparitions in general society, was not difficult.
+The prospect of having brought upon himself
+such an intrusion into his own house, was therefore
+not agreeable, and he was still puzzling
+himself whether he could with advantage caution
+Lucy particularly, as to her deportment
+towards that person, when the opportunity was
+lost by the first knock at the door, which sound
+roused him from his abstraction. He looked
+at Lucy for the first time attentively, and
+kissed her kindly, saying, “How very much
+that becomes you! You look so very well,
+and yet so unlike your usual self, that I should
+think some might find it difficult to know you
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>The door opened as he said this, thoroughly
+expected to see shut in the pompous little person
+of Peter Spencer; but it was only a punctual
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86"></span>artist, a <i lang="fr">protégé</i> of Castleton’s, who was
+much struck with the appearance of his patron’s
+bride, and enchanted with the idea of
+so fine a subject as a sitter.</p>
+
+<p>The long twilight of a London summer
+evening had almost ceased to struggle against
+the artificial darkness of the drawing-room;
+the company had collected, and the shades of
+night had gathered round them, before Sir
+North and Peter Spencer arrived, and attempted
+to guess their way through an obscure
+mass of friends and <i lang="fr">fauteuils</i> to make their
+obeisance in the direction which Castleton’s
+voice marked as that where was seated their
+indistinguishable hostess.</p>
+
+<p>When dinner was announced, and Castleton
+and Lady Gayland of course headed the downward
+procession, there ensued a pause in those
+who were to follow, either arising from the
+darkness or doubtful precedence, or the want of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87"></span>some one to marshall the order of march: a
+point in which, of course Lucy was profoundly
+ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>“How absurd!” said Lady Gayland, “the
+minute point to which this mummery is studied
+in England. Men will sometimes draw back
+in horror from an almost offered arm, and
+avoid the propinquity which can alone make
+the party agreeable to him, for fear it should be
+supposed that he had forgotten that his ancestors
+only fought at Agincourt, whilst there
+was another man in the room whose name was
+connected with Cressy. In that land, where
+social liberty has survived political restraint,
+where we have so often met, it is the most
+recent preference, not the most ancient patent,
+which places people.”</p>
+
+<p>“I, at least, have no right to complain,”
+said Castleton, “who have obtained by one
+system what I should have sought by the other.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Meaning me: of course you could not
+help saying as much, considering how easily
+such things are said.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Spencer, will you sit next <a id="chg6"></a>to Lady Gayland?”
+said Castleton to him, catching him <i lang="fr">en
+passant</i>, anxious to fix him at a distance from
+Lucy.</p>
+
+<p>“O no!” said Lady Gayland, “Mr. Mastic,
+I won’t hear of your deserting me. Mr.
+Mastic here, is very anxious to study my profile,
+which Lord Castleton has promised to give
+him an opportunity of doing by being very
+agreeable on the other side; so Mr. Spencer,
+that your presence is impossible—I am in
+despair;”—and Peter Spencer proceeded upwards,
+where he found a vacant chair at the
+other side, within two of Lucy—the party, it
+was stated, not being a very large one, and the
+table circular.</p>
+
+<p>“What had I done to deserve that?”
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89"></span>asked Lady Gayland; “if you had provided
+yourself with a silent pendant, <i lang="it">come
+questo</i>,” in a lower tone, and glancing at Mr.
+Mastic, “I might have believed your previous
+pretty speech; but to fix upon me so active a
+bore, you must have determined to devote
+yourself entirely to Mrs. Tudor.”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton could not give his real reason, and
+therefore merely said, “I always thought Spencer
+had been rather protected by you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Protected! never; sometimes attacked, but
+there is no luxury one wears out so soon, as
+one’s butt. Like a glove, it ought never to be
+used twice, it becomes so easy.”</p>
+
+<p>Peter Spencer, in the mean time, from his
+new position, had every opportunity of observing
+the fair hostess. The first impression was
+rendered more striking, from the blaze of light
+by which she was now surrounded, so immediately
+succeeding the obscurity out of which
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90"></span>they had groped their way. He had not even
+seen her at a distance among the crowd at Lady
+Delacour’s ball; the only place to which he
+had been since she came to town. At first view
+he merely retained some indistinct recollection
+of its being a face he had somewhere before
+seen; and it was only when she spoke that a
+confused idea of the truth broke upon him.
+She was sitting next Lord Stayinmore, who, to
+those who did not know him, and could not
+venture to treat him as Lady Gayland did,
+was rather a formidable person. In answering
+his pompous questions, Lucy got rather nervous,
+and there was something in the tone of
+her reply, which recalled to Spencer’s mind
+the young girl at the Assize town, under the
+examination of his senior, old Mr. Bailey.</p>
+
+<p>Turning to his next neighbour, he addressed
+him, with</p>
+
+<p>“I can <em>e</em>-spy a most extra-<em>or</em>dinary res-<em>em</em>-blance
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91"></span>in our f-<em>a</em>cin-<em>a</em>ting hostess to an unf<em>or</em>tunate
+fe-<em>e</em>male imp<em>li</em>cated in a nef-<em>a</em>rious tr<em>an</em>saction
+in the course of my prof-<em>es</em>s-<em>io</em>nal career.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hum,” said his neighbour, whom the communication
+did not all interest.</p>
+
+<p>Finding no encouragement in this quarter,
+with the strange coincidence running in his
+head, though, as yet, without suspecting the
+identity, he vociferated to Sir North, who sat
+just opposite to him.</p>
+
+<p>“Sir North, was not Lord Castleton in
+c<em>o</em>u<em>r</em>t at that most extra-<em>or</em>dinary trial of a case,
+whose loc-<em>a</em>lity was in the neighbourhood of
+H-<em>or</em>nscliff A-bb-<em>e</em>y?”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton, even in the midst of one of Lady
+Gayland’s most brilliant sallies, caught the
+drawling intonation of Spencer making this
+<i lang="fr">mal-apropos</i> inquiry; and before Sir North
+could even finish his reply, “that he was himself
+not in court,” he had interposed with,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92"></span>“Mr. Spencer, a glass of wine—champagne?”
+But this only procured a respite, through the
+assent, the order, its execution, the bow, and
+the swallow, which completed the social libation.
+Peter Spencer then continued, and Castleton
+could catch just enough of what followed
+to make him uneasy, without enabling him to
+ascertain the moment when he could interpose,
+and yet not bring about the very discovery he
+wished to avoid.</p>
+
+<p>Who has not sometimes suffered under that
+worst of conversational penances, the feeling
+obliged to appear to listen to your next neighbour,
+when you cannot help catching from a distance
+disjointed words of some topic your peculiar
+favourite, on which you are most anxious either
+to listen or amuse. But Castleton’s position
+was even worse than this; for it was Lady Gayland,
+in her most winning mood, who was his
+next neighbour, and it was her he was obliged
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93"></span>to neglect, in attempting to catch indistinctly
+the most unwelcome tones of Mr. Spencer’s disagreeable
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>“But, Sir North, though s-<em>a</em>tisf<em>a</em>ctory proof
+could not be then el-<em>i</em>c<em>i</em>ted, I <em>o</em>-pine we shall
+have the h-<em>a</em>nging y<em>e</em>t of that f<em>e</em>llow. D<em>a</em>rnell
+was his name; I have no doubt he made away
+with the <em>u</em>-nkn-<em>o</em>wn. A blood-thirsty cut-throat
+from his birth.”</p>
+
+<p>“O no, that he was not!” exclaimed Lucy
+vehemently, “he was the kindest boy that ever
+breathed, and I have no doubt he will still live
+to do honour to those who are kind to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your ladyship, then, was personally acquainted
+with him?” inquired Spencer.</p>
+
+<p>“No, not I—Lord Castleton. Yes—why
+should I deny it? No! how should I know?
+I was only joking—Ha! ha! ha! O dear,
+I’m very ill,” cried she, again relapsing into a
+sort of hysterical laugh.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94"></span></p>
+
+<p>Her nerves being very much excited by her
+attempt to suppress any appearance of interest
+in the conversation she had overheard; and
+then having been incautiously betrayed into an
+imprudent speech, by her desire to defend
+George from so harsh a sentence, she at last
+got completely bewildered between her innate
+desire to speak the truth when asked, and her
+horror at having unintentionally committed
+herself, in a manner which she knew would, of
+all others, be most displeasing to her husband.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton, to whose painfully excited attention
+all this last scene had been but too audible,
+was hardly withheld, even by the imminent
+danger of an <em>esclandre</em>, which such a proceeding
+might entail, from starting up, and, under
+the plea of illness, which Lucy’s own expression
+had rendered plausible, inducing her at once to
+retire. Yet he was afraid that sufficient clue
+had already been given to the pettifogging intellect
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95"></span>of Peter Spencer to enable him to connect
+that sudden illness, which would of course
+become the subject of conversation, with his
+own acute suspicion. Whilst Castleton was
+still hesitating, Lucy not yet attempting to recover
+herself,—general attention concentrating
+upon her, and wonderment spreading, as to
+the cause of her strange state,—Lady Gayland
+stretched her beautiful arm towards one of those
+tall, rickety, pagoda-like <a id="chg7"></a>bonbonnieres, which
+were here, as elsewhere, dotted about the
+circle of the table at certain intervals, and
+lightly touching it with her finger, the top-heavy
+machine tipped over with exactly the
+impetus she intended, and both its circular and
+globular contents rolled far and near, and scattered
+themselves all over the table, and from the
+direction in which they were slily propelled, they
+particularly abounded in the neighbourhood of
+Peter Spencer.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96"></span></p>
+
+<p>“If that had been done on purpose, the mischief
+could not have been more complete. Lord
+Castleton can you pardon my awkwardness?”
+said Lady Gayland, who had watched the progress
+of Lucy’s dilemma, knew much more of
+its origin than any of the principal parties believed,
+and had on the spur of the moment
+devised this expedient to divert attention, and
+relieve Lucy’s difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>“Good comes of evil though,” said she; “I
+am rewarded for my clumsiness by a full view
+of Mr. Spencer, who was hitherto under an
+eclipse to me, and now does he not rise upon me
+in all his grandeur! Since Marius, in the ruins
+of Carthage, there never was anything so stern
+or sublime, as he looks amongst the <i lang="fr">debris</i> of
+scattered sugar-plums, and broken <i lang="fr">bon-bons</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>That is a happy expression of the French
+<i lang="fr">saisir la ridicule</i>. But no one knew so well as
+she did exactly the moment to bring into play
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97"></span>that faculty which must be innate, for no art
+can teach <i lang="fr">saisir la ridicule</i>.</p>
+
+<p>She had, in this instance, both a motive for
+exertion and an object on which to exercise it,
+and she certainly did not spare Peter Spencer.
+The consequence of which was, that not only
+Lucy had time to recover herself, but that her
+previous confusion was forgotten by the company
+in the impression of the amusement furnished
+by Lady Gayland; and even Spencer
+himself departed with, to the full, as distinct
+an idea that he had made himself ridiculous,
+as that he had made Lady Castleton uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Seven">VII.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent8">For now my love is thawed,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Which, like a waxen image ’gainst a fire,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Bears no impression of the thing it was.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">The English winter ending in July</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">To recommence in August, now was done;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">’Tis the postillion’s paradise; wheels fly</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">On roads east, south, north, west.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Castleton</span> was much vexed at the danger
+which Lucy had incurred, of discovering all
+that he most wished to conceal; but she
+seemed to have suffered so much herself, from
+her imprudence, that he could not find it in
+his heart to upbraid her on the subject.
+Taking courage from this forbearance on his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99"></span>part, she ventured the next morning to ask
+him, “Would it not be better, my dear lord,
+that it should at least be known from how low
+a station your kindness raised me: when, perhaps,
+people would be too good-natured (or
+well-bred, as you call the same thing) to talk
+to me on such subjects, since even in attempting
+to conceal it, such risks are run as my
+imprudence is always bringing about.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is too late to think of that now, Lucy;
+if all were to do over again, I know not how
+much might remain undone. However, if there
+had not been that unlucky adventure blended
+with our early connexion, it might perhaps
+have been better to have owned more; though
+I then thought your manners, which still appear
+to me wonderful, prevented the necessity
+of such an avowal. But that ill-starred cousin
+of yours, who has given the character of a
+nest of smugglers to your whole set, rendered
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100"></span>any other course than concealment of your
+origin impossible. Above all, now, you have
+no idea of the avidity with which an awkward
+story about any one that is known is communicated.
+‘Have you heard the strange story
+about Lord Castleton?’ would spread like wildfire;
+and I should be the laughing-stock of
+every one who spells a Sunday paper, from the
+Land’s end to John o’ Groat’s House.”</p>
+
+<p>Lucy, though she would not dispute what
+she did not understand, felt hurt at the slighting
+mention of the home of her youth as a
+“<em>nest of smugglers</em>.” She might indeed have
+replied, that she was sure no one who knew
+her dear father at Mayton or elsewhere, would
+believe that <em>he</em> could ever have any thing to
+say to such doings.</p>
+
+<p>But Castleton, fearing nothing but anxiety
+from prolonging his stay in London, continued,
+“We have now been above two months
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101"></span>in London, Lucy; would you dislike the idea
+of returning into the country?”</p>
+
+<p>“O I should like it so much! One thing I
+should wish: do you think you could persuade
+Lady Gayland to come and see us there?
+I feel so fond of her, and I often think she is
+in many respects a more suitable companion
+for you than I am. You both understand the
+same things to talk about. And then, perhaps,
+if I wished just to go to Morden Bay,
+you could better spare me a little while.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, my dear Lucy,” said Castleton
+smiling, “that would not render it at all less
+difficult to spare you. But about the rest do
+as you like; you shall have the pleasure of
+asking Lady Gayland herself: if she comes at
+all, it will be for you.”</p>
+
+<p>It is not of course to be supposed but that
+a person of Lucy’s natural quickness, though
+unpractised in observation, should have made
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102"></span>some progress during the time she was in town
+towards understanding the requisite qualifications
+for her new situation; but unfortunately
+this very quickness made her only more conscious
+of her manifold deficiencies. A little
+application, when she gave her attention to
+any one point, like a magnifying glass, made
+its particular form and bearing perfectly distinct
+to her comprehension; but that very circumstance
+only rendered her more thoroughly
+aware how vague and undefined were to her all
+other objects on that varied horizon, which she
+indistinctly surveyed from her isolated elevation,
+and the shape in which this consciousness
+of her situation most disagreeably occurred to
+her, was that whilst Castleton wandered freely
+through all these scenes to him so familiar, she
+was herself merely a sort of landmark of the
+affections, to which he returned at stated intervals,
+rather than his constant companion
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103"></span>through all the mazes of society, or his active
+associate in the pursuits of literature.</p>
+
+<p>This painful sensation of her own unfitness,
+which feeling increased with her efforts to
+diminish it, was expressed by her with much
+candour to her friend Lady Gayland, while
+persuading that lady to take up her abode
+with her as soon as possible at Somersby Park.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s no study, dear Lady Gayland,
+which does me, I am sure, half so much good
+as hearing you talk. What I attempt to teach
+myself, seems only to show me how much
+more I have to learn. What you tell me,
+seems as if it ought to be as easy to me, as it
+plainly is to you. And yet I am afraid that
+you are just what I should find it most difficult
+to imitate: at least, so Castleton thinks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps his wish is father to that thought;
+there may be nothing he would so little like
+you to resemble.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104"></span></p>
+
+<p>“On the contrary, no one admires you more
+than he does—that I am sure of; and then, too,
+you are old friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“For that very reason, perhaps, a little
+contrast—”</p>
+
+<p>“How can you say so? You can’t think it.
+But you are always so kind, that I am sure
+you will let me speak a little seriously to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“What about, my dear?” asked Lady Gayland,
+with apparently little surprise, and perhaps
+some uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>“About myself. I want to consult you on
+a point on which your advice would be of the
+greatest service to me. I need not say that it
+is my only desire, as well as my first duty, to
+please Castleton. Nobody so well as you could
+tell me how I ought to try for that,” she added,
+with perfect simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>“Go on—that’s somewhat difficult,” answered
+Lady Gayland abstractedly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Now, when I hear any subject talked of
+in conversation about which I know nothing, I
+never show my ignorance, because that Castleton
+told me to avoid; but I treasure up the recollection
+of it, and endeavour to work out the
+knowledge of it for myself against another
+time. But there are some things I cannot
+learn from books. Now if you would let me
+come to you about them——”</p>
+
+<p>“But why not ask your husband, my
+dear?”</p>
+
+<p>“So I do sometimes, but I don’t think he
+much likes it. Only the other day I heard
+people say that one of their friends was very
+lucky, for that he got ten thousand pounds for
+his wife. I could not conceive how a man
+could do that. I never heard of such a thing.
+And I asked Castleton to explain, and he said
+that as I knew nothing at all about it, he
+should be obliged to make a very long story—that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106"></span>he was in a hurry, hadn’t time, and it
+didn’t signify. And yet, though he had not
+time for that, when I said just afterwards that
+I should like to have a little black parrot, such
+as I had seen, he rode a long way on purpose
+to try to get one, at the gardens with a long
+name.”</p>
+
+<p>“Zoological?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; for he is very kind to me, and I hardly
+can form a wish that he does not try to gratify,
+and yet——”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet what!”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, when I have taken pains to inform
+myself on any subject, if he is not there, I
+quite long for an opportunity to bring it out,
+and watch the conversation for that purpose
+only, and then every one else seems to take it
+quite natural from me. But if I attempt this to
+Castleton I feel quite awkward; and then he
+says, ‘Where did you pick that up, my dear
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107"></span>Lucy?’ and that makes me worse. And though
+at first he used to seem surprised if I did <em>not</em>
+know what others did, now it is quite the contrary:
+he is just as much surprised if I do.
+That change is not a good sign, I am afraid.
+Is it?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is impossible to answer these questions
+directly,” said Lady Gayland; “difficult to
+answer them any how satisfactorily—delicate
+for any one to attempt it—perhaps most delicate
+for me. But yours is a singular—a lonely
+situation. You ask for advice and assistance
+from the only person who you think can be of
+service to you, and with the interest I feel in
+you, I am unwilling to refuse. I have known
+Lord Castleton long and well—how long and
+how well it is unnecessary for the present purpose
+to recollect. But circumstances made an
+observer like myself thoroughly acquainted
+with his character. His misfortune is not a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108"></span>common one. His means have always been in
+exaggerated proportion to his ends. Faculties,
+which ought to have extended their influence
+over society in its more extended sense of the
+community, he has confined to its more limited
+definition—company; and he would have been
+more perfect in all relations as a companion,
+had he also been a statesman, a soldier, a philosopher,
+or even a poet. The human mind
+does not, like the baser metal, accumulate in
+store; but like the physical organs of our
+frame, from empty craving it takes to feed upon
+itself. In the limited sphere he had chosen, as
+Lord Castleton could not dread defeat, he
+learnt to despise success, and thence to cavil at
+its causes. Let me see—what is there I can
+compare him to, that has come within your observation:
+we went together the other night to
+the pantomime.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, thank you,” said Lucy, smiling even
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109"></span>through the interest of this discussion, at the
+amusement she had then experienced.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, his mind is something like the
+magic of harlequin’s wand amongst the chairs
+and tables, a superior power misapplied to
+petty purposes, and therefore as often perverting
+and confounding, as improving. This,
+however, could not apply to the exercise of the
+affections, except so far as his experience of
+women as members of the social system has
+filled his head with general, and in some particular
+instances most unwarrantable, suspicions.
+O if a woman could with honest pride feel herself
+the only object of devotion to such——But
+what of this? it is not to the present purpose.
+Disgusted with every thing he had seen and
+imagined of us poor women of the world, he
+naturally sought the reverse of that which the
+past had taught him. And in seeking an extreme,
+of the extent of which he was by no
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110"></span>means aware, I have no doubt that the entire
+novelty of the attempt was originally its chief
+recommendation. How singularly fortunate I
+think he was, when, in embarking in such an
+undertaking, he met with you, I will not now
+say. I am not satisfied that you should so far
+exceed all that he had a right to anticipate,
+but wish that you should, if possible, realize
+his most unreasonable expectations. Purity
+and perfect devotion, those sterling merits
+whose spontaneous growth he sought in the
+wilderness, he has found in you in the highest
+perfection. Those other qualities, of which he
+had not previously supposed the want, because
+all he had hitherto seen had uniformly possessed
+them, are produced by cultivation, and may be
+engrafted. London is the place where their
+absence is most felt, their acquirement is most
+difficult. In the country, where you will have
+him entirely to yourself, you will soon find him
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111"></span>again what you wish; for Castleton, though
+clear-sighted, is also considerate to the faults of
+those who interest him.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, my dear Lady Gayland, I shall never
+be able to do any thing without your assistance.
+When you are by, I always feel so much
+bolder. I own I am at all times rather afraid
+of Castleton—that is, afraid more of my own
+feeling than of his showing that I have not
+pleased him. You say that I should have
+Castleton all to myself; and certainly I should
+be glad to have him without the perpetual interruptions
+of our present mode of life, but not
+without you. No; your presence gives me
+comfort and courage, as well as pleasure.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause of lengthened hesitation
+on Lady Gayland’s part, before she replied to
+this appeal; but at last, to Lady Castleton’s
+reiterated and anxious entreaty of “Now, pray
+don’t refuse me—do come,” she answered,</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Well, my dear, then come I will. That
+is, I will stop and see you when I leave town,
+on my way to the watering place, where I
+mean to spend the autumn.”</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Eight">VIII.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent8">Downward flies my lord,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Nodding beside my lady in his carriage;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Away! away! fresh horses are the word,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And changed as quickly as hearts after marriage.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was with feelings of satisfaction, utterly
+unmixed with regret, that Lucy found herself
+once more cutting her way through that dense
+mass, which is made up of strings of carriages,
+and clouds of smoke, towards those suburbs
+which upon her entrance had struck her as interminable.
+She only felt that she had Castleton
+once more by her side—a pleasure which
+had daily become more rare, as their stay in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114"></span>London had been protracted. The impression
+uppermost in his mind, if not so pure and unmixed,
+was upon the whole of a pleasurable
+nature.</p>
+
+<p>The same train of thought recurred to him
+as had produced so much effect upon his then
+unsettled opinions some years back, when upon
+leaving town at that season he had first sought
+Morden Bay, and had for the first time beheld
+the present partner of his fate; and as these
+feelings returned in almost their original freshness,
+they chased away all the more unworthy
+causes of repining, which the frivolous habits
+of the world had fostered; and for the time all
+anxieties dependent upon a false sense of shame
+at her former position no longer interfered with
+well-merited admiration of her excellent virtues,
+and transcendent beauty, and grateful confidence
+in her unbounded devotion to himself.
+He even looked back with something like contempt
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115"></span>at the perpetual uneasiness under which
+he had laboured, lest the extreme lowness of
+her origin should be discovered, and was now
+ashamed of having been so much ashamed of
+some of her unpractised mistakes.</p>
+
+<p>One littleness, though, he could not help clinging
+to. It was still a great satisfaction to him,
+that the dreaded discovery had not been gossipped
+amongst his servants. He would of all
+things have disliked that the daily talk of those
+from whom he looked for habitual respect,
+should turn upon the fact of their mistress
+having been, what they would call, “no better
+than themselves.” As for the world, he knew
+enough of it to be aware that there his principal
+difficulties and dangers were past. The world
+had been peculiarly disposed to criticise the
+first debût of a new denizen nearly connected
+with one to whose taste that world had long
+yielded a forced allegiance. Another season, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116"></span>detraction would find some more stirring game
+than one so inoffensive as Lucy.</p>
+
+<p>Amidst these topics for satisfaction, almost
+for self-gratulation, one unpleasant doubt did
+obtrude itself. Though the care of the world
+would no longer molest his enjoyment, was he
+quite certain that he should himself continue
+perfectly contented with the success of his experiment?
+Was she the companion he required?
+He started in anger at himself as this
+hitherto fleeting and shapeless suspicion assumed
+the form of a substantial doubt, and, as chasing
+it impatiently away, he cast upon her a look of
+affection and encouragement, she best answered
+the appeal, and removed for the time all traces
+of painful impression, by discussing with ease
+and spirit the pleasure she should derive from
+again beholding Somersby, and recalling with
+accuracy the favourite spots within his domain
+which they had together frequented, during
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117"></span>their last residence there. As these were the
+outward images then uppermost in his mind, he
+gladly obliterated, in this fortunate reciprocity,
+those ideas which had before intruded themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The circumstances of the first few days at
+Somersby, seemed to continue the illusion, (if
+illusion it was,) that the qualifications of his
+partner for life left him nothing to desire. The
+weather was beautiful, and with elastic step and
+cheerful countenance she accompanied him every
+where, participating in all his plans and entering
+into all his improvements. But persons,
+however strong, cannot stroll through the whole
+day; and Lucy before she left London had,
+with good reason, been recommended not to
+over fatigue herself; so a pony-phaeton was put
+in requisition, and this enabled them to extend
+their excursions, and protract their enjoyment;
+but our fickle climate will sometimes frown on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118"></span>pony-phaetons even in August. There came a
+wet week, and they were confined to the house,
+and immured in the library. This was an
+unlucky <i lang="fr">locale</i> for Lucy; but it had always
+been used as the common morning-room, and
+she felt lonely if she did not see Castleton,
+even though <em>his</em> eyes were fixed on his book.</p>
+
+<p>Had Castleton been alone, his study would
+have been all-sufficient to him; but being, as it
+were, thus continually in company, there was
+hardly any thing he read, by which some train
+of thought was not awakened in his ever active
+imagination, which he longed at once to communicate.
+It was not that he was anxious captiously
+to criticise, or to find fault, but he was
+often eager to illustrate and to impart the beauties
+that struck him; and as, with this desire,
+he looked upon his uninformed companion, he
+felt the hopelessness of such an attempt. If
+it was a book of science, in vain would he comment
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119"></span>upon the extension of that, of which she
+neither knew the rudiments nor the terms—if of
+fiction, equally beyond her reach were the least
+soaring flights of fancy—if of satire, she was
+equally little cognizant of the persons portrayed,
+or aware of the foibles for which they
+were ridiculed. He had once before indulged
+in the social custom of blending conversation
+with his reading; the precedent was an ominous
+one. It had been at Rome. When persons
+familiarly known to each other live under the
+same roof in a foreign hotel, their intercourse is
+naturally on an easy footing, and much time
+will sometimes be spent together by that facility
+of gliding, unasked, in and out of apartments,
+which never could have been demanded under
+the well-drilled form of “a knock-and-ring”
+London visit. When the intimacy of friendship
+thus confirms the interest of a warmer
+feeling, it is a delightful, but a dangerous habit.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120"></span></p>
+
+<p>Castleton had in this manner spent the most
+of many mornings in Lady Gayland’s. They
+did not then think it necessary, under these
+circumstances, always to talk, to the exclusion
+of books; but they often found it agreeable to
+mix up reciprocal remarks on their reading.
+And some of these most animated and interesting
+discussions had arisen out of casual observations
+excited by some passage which had
+forcibly struck them in the perusal; and whether
+these conversations took the turn of excited
+enthusiasm, or refined criticism, their uniform
+effect was, that the parties engaged in them
+separated mutually better pleased with each
+other. In the course of the last week, Castleton
+had frequently ventured, in some of the
+lighter works with which he had been engaged,
+to read short extracts to Lucy, explaining and
+recommending the whole book to her perusal.
+This desire she always immediately complied
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121"></span>with; but her attention was ever fixed, and her
+memory exerted in the discovery of these particular
+passages, which he happened accidentally
+to have cited; and, in this pursuit, her eye
+would wander over whole lines of print, as a
+traveller would over lines of hedge and ditch
+by the road side, noting nothing by the way,
+in search of one only object.</p>
+
+<p>The fact was, as has been stated before, that
+her mother had always, at that age when the
+taste is acquired, discouraged reading as unprofitable.
+And her aunt, not feeling herself at
+liberty to interfere directly with the system of
+her mother, had rather selected passages adapted
+to her capacity, and facilitated even these by
+her explanations, than encouraged her in any
+independent course of reading. Alice Darnell’s
+plan had had the effect upon her niece’s
+mind, of a sort of intellectual “swimming in
+corks.” Now deprived of this artificial aid,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122"></span>she felt more than ever, the utter helplessness
+of her ignorance. She had been enabled by
+these means to dabble gracefully in shallows;
+but was utterly incapable of venturing unassisted
+on the wide ocean of knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>A week had passed in this way; the mornings
+and most of the evenings devoted to
+study on the part of Castleton, and the same
+time consumed by Lucy, in vain attempts to
+toil after him in the few books, which, on reading
+himself, he thought it possible to recommend
+to her. She had, in making the effort,
+no other object in view, but endeavouring to
+please him, by appearing to understand his
+remarks; and in this she had too often failed;
+for, though gratified, at first, by thinking that
+she had remarked the same points which had
+struck him, he was again disappointed, when
+he went on to ask her opinion upon other
+parts, which perhaps had made as strong an
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123"></span>impression upon himself, though, from the
+consciousness that she was unacquainted with
+the book, he had not communicated that impression.
+He sometimes found, that except
+those passages to which he had directed her
+attention, all the rest of the work, connected
+with which these isolated passages acquired
+a redoubled value, had produced no more effect
+upon her, than if her eyes had never glanced
+over its pages.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, he had accidentally taken up
+the “Promessi Sposi” of Manzoni, (that only
+child of the old age of Italian literature.) The
+copy in his hand was the original one, which he
+had not seen since he had first read it with
+delight in Italy. The marks that had either
+been made by himself, or another, of admiration
+of the most sterling, though, perhaps, not
+the most palpable beauties of this work of true
+genius, were still visible upon the pages before
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124"></span>him, and recalled the scene, and the occasions
+on which they were made; and when the
+thought recurred, but for his own over-fastidious
+feeling, and perverted imagination, what
+might now have been his lot, he turned on
+Lucy a look, in which disappointment was perhaps
+too legibly written; for she interpreted it
+at once into a desire for some change; and imagining
+such to be his wish, she asked him if he
+did not think “it was now fine enough to take
+a stroll out of doors?”</p>
+
+<p>The weather had certainly shown symptoms
+of settling; the clouds had first lightened,
+then dispersed; and now the sun, successfully
+struggling through the dappled sky, already
+played on the sparkling drops, which the gentle
+breeze began to shake from the dripping leaves.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton rose from his chair, glad to snap
+the chain of thought which bound his spirit to
+no good purpose; and throwing up the window,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125"></span>the enjoyment of all external sources of pleasure
+seemed suddenly restored.</p>
+
+<p>Every inducement combined to tempt them
+forth. The mingled odour of the freshened
+herbage, and of the grateful flower-garden beneath,
+breathed through the atmosphere one
+varied fragrance. The cheerful song of the
+feathered tribe sounded as an irresistible invitation
+to all living things, to share with them
+in rejoicing at the restored reign of nature.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, dear Lucy,” said Castleton, encircling
+her waist, “get on your bonnet, and we shall
+have a delightful walk.”</p>
+
+<p>As he said this, the grinding of carriage-wheels
+through the rain-soaked gravel was
+heard, and a well-packed travelling equipage
+appeared in sight.</p>
+
+<p>“O, I do believe that is Lady Gayland,”
+said Lucy, clapping her hands with delight,
+“and now you won’t want for amusement.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126"></span></p>
+
+<p>And Lady Gayland it certainly was. She
+had been expected shortly, but the precise day
+was not known; and as she had paid another
+visit since she left town—and no lady was ever
+expected to comprehend the irregularities of a
+cross-country post—her arrival before her own
+announcement of herself was very pardonable.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Nine">IX.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent14">The mellow Autumn came,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And with it came the promised guest.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent14">There’s not an hour</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Of day or dreaming night, but I am with thee;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">There’s not a wind but whispers of thy name;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And not a flower that sleeps beneath the moon,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">But in its hues or fragrance tells a tale</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Of thee.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Thou canst not teach me to forget.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">How</span> slight and almost imperceptible a change
+of position, how small and almost unintentional
+a step in advance, will sometimes suddenly open
+our eyes to the inevitable tendency of a course
+of conduct which we have been, up to that
+point, pursuing in blind security! Lady Gayland,
+acute and clear-sighted as she was for
+others, was in her own case often the creature
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128"></span>of impulse, acting without consideration, upon
+the first generous feeling, and reasoning upon
+its collateral bearings when too late to retract.</p>
+
+<p>The carriage had been checked a moment
+for admission, at the spot where the lodge leading
+to Somersby-park was situated, on the great
+road. “Ah! <i lang="fr">nous voila donc, Miladi</i>,” exclaimed
+Angelique to her mistress, thus breaking the
+confused reverie in which that lady had long
+been indulging.</p>
+
+<p>“<i lang="fr">Nous voila donc</i>, indeed,” thought Lady
+Gayland, as the iron gates opened to receive
+them; “and strange indeed that it should be
+so:” and for the first time all those reasons
+which rendered it so peculiarly strange, that
+she should, under such circumstances, be Castleton’s
+guest, forced themselves upon her attention
+the more irresistibly, that they had been
+so long suppressed or avoided. True, the
+ostensible motives of her visit were plausible
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129"></span>enough. Her early acquaintance with Lucy,
+and subsequent renewal of it, under circumstances
+which had entailed a continuance of that
+protection of her, which, in the first instant,
+she had beneficially extended, the exclusive
+confidence which Lucy had reposed in her,
+the helpless dependence which she had expressed
+upon her advice and assistance; the
+anxiety with which she clung to her companionship
+as her best hope of happiness,—all these
+would have rendered her presence of the utmost
+service to any but the wife of Castleton.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton’s manner to her in London had
+never been such as necessarily to excite suspicion
+that his feelings were not subdued. The
+two strongest exceptions to the general discipline
+of his deportment have been given—the
+one, their first meeting at Lady Delacour’s
+ball—the other, his anxious inquiry at the
+opera after a certain gentleman whom he had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130"></span>left at Naples. But his usual manner towards
+her was calm, apparently unconstrained, and
+even common-place.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland, as she never occupied herself
+much with the concerns of others, was not
+perfectly aware of the rapidity with which the
+heartless and the fickle can sometimes, in the
+sunshine of society, force the artificial growth
+of indifference; yet she had heard instances,
+when, without explanation, hands that had last
+been pressed to throbbing hearts, had next met
+in the lifeless contact of common courtesy, and
+lips which had last tremblingly faltered forth a
+passionate farewell, when next seen had without
+emotion been compressed into a cold and
+simpering greeting.</p>
+
+<p>But though Lady Gayland knew that such
+things had been—though there was nothing obtrusively
+obvious in Castleton’s manner to herself,
+to contradict, and every thing in the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131"></span>mere act of his subsequent marriage to confirm,
+the idea that he furnished another instance of
+the easy forgetfulness of man, yet had she no
+internal conviction of that kind by which to
+regulate her conduct.</p>
+
+<p>To those gifted individuals who unite acute
+sensibility with keen observation, and have ever
+brought those rarely united powers of the mind
+and heart to bear upon the conduct and character
+of a beloved object, there are open many
+hidden sources utterly unmarked by the million,
+from which the most infallible impressions
+are derived. It may be the accent of a casual
+word, dropped in common conversation, or the
+character of a stolen glance, darted through
+mingling crowds; which in spite of intervening
+years, and altered circumstances—opportunities
+apparently neglected, and other engagements
+since contracted, in defiance of all probability,
+and in opposition to almost undeniable
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132"></span>evidence,—will vibrate to the inmost recesses of
+the heart, the certain consciousness that all is
+not forgotten. And such a consciousness had
+Lady Gayland sometimes, in spite of herself,
+felt that Castleton had not even yet become
+indifferent to her. All the scattered indications
+from which she collected this conviction, and
+which she had hitherto as much as possible
+driven from her mind, now presented themselves
+one after another to her recollection, as her
+carriage whirled rapidly towards the front of
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>“And why, then, am I here?” she asked
+herself, now the question came too late. Half
+the debates in the secret conclave of the human
+mind are conducted after the question has
+been put and carried; and reason often returns
+after the event, in company with repentance,
+instead of sticking (to speak parliamentarily)
+to his, proper <em>pair</em>, decision.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133"></span></p>
+
+<p>In this instance, Lady Gayland’s somewhat
+tardy self-inquiry, “Why am I here,” was answered
+by Lucy, who, as the door of the carriage
+opened, rushed down the steps to greet her
+with&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<p>“O how delighted I am to see you! how
+good it is of you to come, and even sooner than
+we expected you!”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton’s reception of Lady Gayland was
+exactly what might be expected from a practised
+man of the world, who had had time,
+since seeing her carriage from the window, to
+prepare for appearing as glad to see her as
+became him, without betraying how much more
+than that quantum of satisfaction he might feel.</p>
+
+<p>As Lucy, at his desire, conducted Lady
+Gayland to her own apartment, she repeated,
+as she clung fondly to her arm,&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<p>“I’m so very glad you are come; and so, I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134"></span>can assure you, is Castleton also, though, perhaps,
+you don’t think he shows it enough; but
+he has been rather dull, poring over books
+morning and evening, for we have had sad wet
+weather: but now you are come, you can talk
+to him as he likes, and he will soon be gay
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>When Lucy was returning, having left Lady
+Gayland in her own room, an accident occurred
+which led to much conversation in one part of
+the house, though its effect was not immediately
+known in the drawing-room. In passing through
+the gallery she met Lady Gayland’s maid, Ma’amselle
+Angelique, whom she had not seen since
+their drive from Hornscliff to Mayton. In the
+good-natured impulse of the moment, Lucy,
+only recollecting that the person before her had
+once been kind to her, when she needed kindness,
+seized her hand with warmth, saying,</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135"></span></p>
+
+<p>“How do you do; I am very glad to see
+you again.”</p>
+
+<p>At first Angelique drew back confused,
+thinking there must be some mistake.</p>
+
+<p>“Pardon, Miladi, ce n’est que moi.—Mon
+Dieu! mais est il possible! la petite de <i lang="fr">poni
+chaise</i>. Ah! milles pardons, miladi, si j’ose un
+instant me rappeller de vous.” And with her
+best curtsey she passed on, leaving Lucy, with
+the returning consciousness that she had betrayed
+herself in a manner that would not be
+pleasing to Castleton.</p>
+
+<p>Angelique began at once to touch upon her
+discovery to her mistress, but there she
+found her garrulity more suddenly checked
+than it usually was on indifferent subjects.
+At the same time, as Lady Gayland knew
+that, by making a mystery, she would only increase
+the desire to communicate, she laid no
+injunctions of silence upon her attendant, who,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136"></span>accordingly, as soon as dismissed, went down
+into the housekeeper’s room, with&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<p>“De ting if the world the most astonish!
+Je suis petrifie. I was made a stone. Je n’en
+reviens plus—and I never come back from it
+more.”</p>
+
+<p>This of course led to much further cross-questioning
+and gossipping, and Castleton had
+first the happiness of finding how generally the
+story was known, when, some little time afterward,
+he found fault with his housekeeper for
+some deficiency in her duty, she excused herself
+under the pretence of having meant to
+please “my lady.” And when Castleton rather
+pettishly replied, that he desired she would not
+think of consulting my lady on that sort of
+subject, he was punished by her impudently
+adding,</p>
+
+<p>“To be sure, my Lord, I don’t suppose my
+Lady is like to know what’s what.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137"></span></p>
+
+<p>When, upon this, he indignantly asked what
+she meant by such impertinence, to get herself
+out of the scrape, the blame was, naturally
+enough, laid on Mamselle Angelique, both as
+a strange servant and a foreigner, and the whole
+story thus came out.</p>
+
+<p>During the social intercourse of the succeeding
+days, the effort was equally made by Castleton
+and Lady Gayland, so to conduct the
+course of their conversation, that Lucy might
+be enabled to bear them company. But it
+evidently, to all parties, was an effort; and not
+always a successful one. Sometimes irresistibly
+borne along by the current of old recollections,
+Castleton and his guest were
+launched into the wide sea of imagination—an
+element into which Lucy was not fitted to
+follow them; she, therefore, was soon stranded
+by the way, and sat watching them in silent
+security.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138"></span></p>
+
+<p>But there was one casual circumstance that
+contributed to throw Lady Gayland more exclusively
+into the society of her former friend.
+Whilst they were in the house, of course wherever
+she was, there Lucy was likewise. But, as
+has been before observed, Lady Gayland was
+passionately fond of riding: Lucy, on the contrary,
+never much used to it, and always timid
+on horseback, was at present prevented from
+attempting to mount, by reasons which are understood
+in all families. But Castleton had
+upon their marriage provided her with a delightful
+horse, and this she now pressed Lady
+Gayland to use. This, to one who had all
+her life been an inveterate horse-woman,
+was too tempting an offer to be refused, and
+accompanied by Castleton, she made the trial
+of the new horse, which seemed to have been
+attended with great success, for from that time
+their promenades were repeated daily,—the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139"></span>weather continuing as propitious, as it had
+been unfavourable before the arrival of the
+visitor.</p>
+
+<p>What shall we call that state of sympathy,
+which, while it seems too serious to settle into
+a mere flirtation, is as yet by no means systematized
+into a <i lang="fr">liaison</i>? But call it what we
+may, that is the peculiar stage, when there is
+nothing so dangerous as a <i lang="fr">tête-a-tête</i> on horseback.
+Whilst every advance is still attended
+with doubt and incertitude, the attempt is encouraged
+by apparent facilities of retreat; in
+a room, the moment, which must come sooner
+or later, when the door will have to be opened
+and closed behind one of the parties, is always
+a matter of dread, and in anticipation, checks
+many a hasty move; but here there is no such
+awkward epoch to come. All is every instant
+changing around. An affected stumble on the
+part of the horse, may conceal a real false step
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140"></span>of his rider; and an ill received hint, may be
+obliterated in a canter.</p>
+
+<p>But to speak seriously, there is something in
+a <i lang="fr">tête-a-tête</i> ride through a fine country, which,
+when a predisposition to confidence between
+man and woman has existed, considerably tends
+to ripen it. As to Castleton and his guest,
+their relative situation was such, as to leave
+them nothing to confide. They had neither of
+them any designs to advance, but if they could
+not thus avail themselves of the advantages
+of the present, it was unfortunate that they
+should have so apt an occasion to regret the
+past, for it was thus they had wandered in
+other days, beneath southern skies, with brighter
+prospects, and with better hopes.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Ten">X.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent18">For it so falls out</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">That what we have we prize not to the worth,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Whiles we enjoy it; but, being lacked and lost,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Why then we rack the value.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent18">Whilst I remember</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Her and her virtues, I cannot forget</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">My blemishes in them, and so still think of</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">The wrong I did myself.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">This</span> mode of life had continued for many
+more days than either of them would retrospectively
+have imagined to have elapsed since
+its commencement. And in the course of it
+many topics which should have been altogether
+avoided, had every day imperceptibly been
+approached more nearly, and with greater effort
+evaded.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142"></span></p>
+
+<p>One day Lady Gayland, principally from a
+desire to fix her attention upon some extraneous
+and indifferent subject, had requested to be
+allowed in their next ride to mount Castleton’s
+own horse, instead of the more docile creature
+procured for Lucy, which she pronounced too
+sluggish. Castleton was at first rather afraid
+to assent, as his beautiful animal, though perfectly
+tractable under his skilful management,
+had only lately exchanged the turf for the road.
+But as the groom reported that the essay of
+the petticoat had been perfectly satisfactory,
+and as Lady Gayland was a most fearless
+horse-woman, the exchange, at her repeated
+request, was made on their next excursion.</p>
+
+<p>They had, in consequence of the novelty of
+the experiment, started with the intention, at
+Castleton’s desire, of riding more quietly and
+carefully; and as they strolled slowly onwards,
+insensibly their attention had been transferred
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143"></span>from the horse to their discourse, which was
+much the more animated of the two, as no
+animal is more sleepy than a spirited horse will
+sometimes be, when left to himself, with the
+reins upon his neck.</p>
+
+<p>The origin of this, as of many other interesting
+conversations, was common place. We
+need not, perhaps, travel even so far back as
+when, in reply to some disclaimer on Lady
+Gayland’s part, Castleton said, “You know
+what Byron sings&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">‘No friend like to a woman earth discovers.’”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>“Ay, but remember,” interrupted Lady
+Gayland, “the proviso he adds:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">‘So that they have not been, nor will be——’</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="unindent">what?—what is the word whose indispensable
+presence at the point of the stanza alone, excuses
+such a botching rhyme as <em>discovers</em>?”</p>
+
+<p>“<em>Lovers</em>,” answered Castleton. “To be sure
+he says they should never have been, but then
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144"></span>I think it was his own negative experience, limiting
+his opinion of the social qualities of poor
+human nature which warped his judgment. In
+introducing my quotation I should have said
+<em>even</em> Byron sings—for I think he never had,
+nor I think was it in his nature to have, a female
+friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“His sister—”</p>
+
+<p>“He was a kind and a grateful brother to a
+fond and an indulgent sister, that was all.”</p>
+
+<p>“Poor Byron! who so philosophic a guide
+for others? who so practical a blunderer for
+himself in search of the sources of happiness?”</p>
+
+<p>“Others without his talent to commemorate
+their wayward inconsistencies, may have thought
+as deeply and mistaken as thoroughly,” answered
+Castleton, in a tone of bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>“A female friend! ’tis almost an impossibility,”
+continued Lady Gayland, still generalizing
+the conversation; “at what stage of
+our existence could such a feeling take its date?
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145"></span>As a girl? No! You men generally treat girls
+either as flirts or fools, and wilfully shut your
+eyes to the study of that character of which a
+special licence is to be the diploma. So mankind
+to girls are divided into the marrying and
+non-marrying classes. With the first, friendship
+would appear forward; with the latter,
+lost time. As a wife?—Possibly some men
+might. But I think you, for instance, would
+not like your wife to maintain a perfect and
+unreserved friendship with another man? No;
+in neither case would it do.”</p>
+
+<p>“But yourself,” interrupted Castleton, “you
+need not be restrained by any of the embarrassments
+of either of the stations you mention?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; and at fifty perhaps I may think
+about it; but let us if possible avoid to speak
+individually. There is only one relation in life
+in which a woman may be peerless and perfect,
+and luckily that is as a wife. A mistress’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146"></span>present career is made up of regret for the past
+and fear for the future; a female friend content
+to be no more, is an anomaly rarely
+found. A wife may unite all that is most estimable
+in friendship, with so much more than
+that cold feeling can ever know, that it would
+be the veriest bathos to degrade a wife to the
+title of friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet some wives can never be friends, and
+now, alas! some friends can never become wives.”</p>
+
+<p>“A woman’s part in courtship is, you must
+recollect, a passive one; we must ever wait till
+we are asked.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yet who but a fool or a coxcomb would
+ever venture a proposal unless pretty certain
+that his suit would not be displeasing; and does
+not that render it equivalent to a refusal, when
+a woman tortures by indications of indifference?
+What would I now give that you had never
+misled me!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Lord Castleton, I will not say how much I
+regret that you should have introduced a subject
+which may interrupt our intercourse. For
+that your society is agreeable to me, I wonder
+you should ever have doubted; but it does not
+<em>now</em> become me to make either professions or disclaimers
+on that subject. It is only to excuse,
+not to revive, the past, that I now speak. This
+is the last time that former days must ever be
+mentioned between us. How did I then mislead
+you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I know that I ought not to have recurred
+to this topic, nor, believe me, had I any previous
+intention of doing so; but now it is as well that
+I should explain, in doing which I own there
+may be more to excuse in myself than to blame
+in you. But you knew me thoroughly—my
+over sensitive fastidious nature; why then did
+you torture me with an apparent preference of
+Frank Melmoth? I knew that he was every
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148"></span>way unworthy of you, but I construed your
+whole conduct into an internal struggle between
+your judgment, which still held out on
+my side, and your heart, which had already
+yielded to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Would any man but yourself have so interpreted
+it? Do you believe even Frank Melmoth,
+with all his coxcombry, so read it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps not; but still he was indefatigable
+in persuading me that such was the construction
+all parties must put upon your conduct.
+Trifles light as air are, you know, sometimes—I
+need not particularize—the earliest violets
+which I had promised, and procured for you,
+were boastfully displayed in his button-hole
+at the ball, the same evening. Eager for an
+explanation, you refused the request I therefore
+made to be set down at home by you, yet afterwards
+you consented to convey him. The
+next night at the opera was my last, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149"></span>served to convince me, that your preference
+upon all indifferent points was decidedly his,
+and that if there was still a doubt upon your
+mind, it was my position, not my personal
+merits, which maintained it.”</p>
+
+<p>“And if the first part of your supposition
+had been well founded, think not your position
+would have maintained that doubt a moment.
+But, first, to answer your last instance; had I
+conveyed you home, who had a carriage of
+your own in attendance, it would have been a
+measure—and how much I might be aware
+that you were anxious for an explanation—it
+was not my business so pointedly to facilitate it.
+When afterwards the poor, needy, half-drowned
+creature begged for a lift, it would have been
+positive cruelty to have sent him under the
+spouts in such a deluge as was then pouring
+down. Besides, do you not know, with us women
+there is no such universal patentee of exclusive
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150"></span>privileges as indifference. As to your other
+accusation, the transfer of your flowers, in that,
+too, I was perfectly innocent. They were left
+by you upon my table. You know how easy
+the entrance into apartments at an hotel abroad
+always is. Frank Melmoth volunteered a visit—I
+was in my own room. My spirits, so far as
+society is concerned, seldom fail me; but I own
+I did then feel quite unequal to receive him.
+A long time has elapsed, and too many changes
+occurred since then, for it to be expected that I
+should recollect exactly what the reflections
+were which then overpowered me; but as if it
+were but yesterday, the feelings which then so
+unnerved me, are even now as then fresh before
+me—but I have strength to drive them hence.
+One word in concluding my explanation: I
+sent an excuse to Melmoth, declining to see
+him: in revenge, he carried off my violets,
+leaving me instead a few doggrel couplets, which
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151"></span>I own I do not recollect so well as the other
+parts of the transaction; but,” added she,
+forcing a smile, “I know there was a string of
+rhymes, something about flowers—hours—powers.—I
+have done—&#x2060;—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">‘The very head and front of my offending</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Hath this extent. No more.’”&#x2060;—</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p>“Fool! dolt! <a id="chg8"></a>idiot that I am!” exclaimed
+Castleton. “For this, then, and no more, have
+I, with all my boasted superior discrimination,
+cast aside my happiness for ever.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay,” said Lady Gayland, “I must not
+even now permit you to speak thus: nor ever
+allow myself to touch on these topics again.
+And now let us turn our own and our horses’
+heads homewards. You have a home, and to
+that ’tis time we bend both our thoughts and
+our course.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, and anxious at once to close
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152"></span>the conversation, her impatience as a woman
+got the better of her usual discretion as an
+equestrian. Turning her horse round, she at
+the same time struck him smartly with her
+whip. Thus unexpectedly roused from that
+torpor, in which perhaps he had been indulging
+visions of former triumphs on the turf,
+and fancying that the same exertions were
+required of him, the fiery animal started
+eagerly forward. She checked him firmly with
+the curb; but, unused to the severity of that
+bit, this only made him plunge so violently,
+as to require all her presence of mind and skill
+in riding to maintain her seat.</p>
+
+<p>“For heaven’s sake let me take hold of his
+head, and change with me again!” anxiously
+exclaimed Castleton, jumping off for that purpose.
+But in violently shaking his head, in
+impatience at the sharpness of the bit, Lady
+Gayland’s horse had detached the curb-chain
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153"></span>from the hook: this dangling loose, only maddened
+him the more; he became perfectly
+unmanageable, and after plunging three or
+four times, more furiously than ever, though
+without unseating, or even agitating her, whose
+courage rose with the emergency, he at length
+brought down his head, and bearing upon the
+now powerless bit with a dead, determined
+pull, he bounded irresistibly onwards at full
+speed over the echoing turf.</p>
+
+<p>What state of mental suspense could equal,
+in agony, that of Castleton during these dreadful
+moments? What, compared to his feelings,
+are those of the patient whilst the surgeon is
+sharpening his knife? or of the self-conscious
+criminal, when the death-bearing verdict is
+about to be pronounced? For let us do poor
+human nature the justice to own, that the fear-fraught
+sensations of such a moment far surpass
+in intensity those which any merely selfish sufferings
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154"></span>could produce. This might still have been
+the case had he been only the friend he professed
+himself: but he was never so well aware how
+much dearer she was to him than he would have
+owned to himself, as when even the recently-acquired
+conviction, that by his folly he had
+lost her heart, was superseded by the all-engrossing
+fear, that by his indiscretion he had
+endangered her life. And in his anguish he
+felt that there was no earthly sacrifice at which
+he would not purchase her precious safety.</p>
+
+<p>At the time Lady Gayland’s horse broke
+away, he had already dismounted, which caused
+a moment’s delay in following her. His first
+impulse was digging his spurs into his own
+more sluggish beast to attempt to come up
+with her. But he was too well aware of the
+comparative speed of the two animals, which
+had before been tried on other fields, not to
+know that this was impracticable, as long as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155"></span>the fleetest and the foremost spurned from beneath
+him the ground he hardly seemed to
+touch. Therefore, with eyes constantly fixed
+on the object of all his anxieties, and a countenance
+as haggard as if the dreaded calamity
+had already happened, he had only to follow
+as best he might, pressing to the utmost his
+own panting steed.</p>
+
+<p>There were various extensive grass-rides between
+avenues in the wide-spreading domains
+of Somersby Park; but as these intersected the
+open space of turf, and as Lady Gayland’s
+horse, in its self-directed course, had either to
+cross or break into these between the trees,
+each was a fresh source of alarm to Castleton.
+But as yet, his undaunted rider still maintaining
+her self-possession, had succeeded so far in
+guiding him as to steer him clear of any of
+these dangers. At last he rushed into the
+long avenue which conducted straight to the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156"></span>front of the house. Thus, therefore, many
+perils were now past, but the worst Castleton
+anticipated was still to be feared, from the
+concussion with which, sooner or later, his speed
+must meet a sudden check; and this dread increased
+as he marked how, without the slightest
+symptom of tiring, he still pursued his passionate
+career. What would not Castleton
+have given at that moment for wings, to dart
+over the short but still increasing space between
+them? so disgusted was he with the inadequate
+efforts of his own flagging and jaded animal,
+that he even madly meditated throwing himself
+off, and endeavouring by his own exertions to
+reach her.</p>
+
+<p>Within a hundred yards of the front of the
+house, the flying steed had now arrived in
+safety, and Lady Gayland was already collecting
+all her remaining strength to pull him up
+with one last attempt, without recollecting that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157"></span>at that point a by-path conducted through a
+shrubbery, at right-angles to the stables. For
+this the horse made, with a sudden spring sideways.
+Lady Gayland, little prepared for so
+unexpected a turn, lost her balance, and as
+the jerk she had at the same time given
+caused him to flounder in the same direction,
+she had not opportunity to recover herself, and
+was thrown with violence against the shrubs
+on one side of the road.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton, from the angle that the road had
+taken, and the thickness of the shrubbery, had
+not actually seen the accident, but arriving a
+few seconds afterwards, with horror he beheld
+her lying apparently lifeless on the spot where
+she had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>Throwing himself from his own horse, and
+rushing to her, he raised her gently in his arms,
+and laying her head on his shoulder whilst he
+supported her waist with his trembling hand,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158"></span>he gazed anxiously in her face, to mark the
+least symptom of returning animation, but as yet
+she lay there with the stiffness of a corpse; her
+eyes were completely closed, and their long dark
+lashes seemed to press upon her cheek. “She’s
+dead,—she’s dead, and I have killed her!” he
+wildly cried. As he said this, her eyes for an
+instant opened, though only with a dull unconscious
+stare; and the hand he held, grasped
+his convulsively. “Look up once again!—For
+my sake live, my best beloved, my own adored
+Geraldine!” He paused in vain, hoping that
+these passionate exclamations might again wake
+her into life. A deep drawn breath from behind
+was the only sound which in reply struck
+upon his ear. He turned round in the direction
+from whence that sound proceeded, and within
+two paces of him—colourless and motionless as
+a statue—beheld the figure of his wife!</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Eleven">XI.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">This may be Nature: when our friends we lose,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Our altered feelings alter to our views;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">What in their tempers teazed us, or distressed,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Is with our anger, and the dead, at rest.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And much we grieve, no longer trial made,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">For that impatience which we then displayed.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Now to their love, and worth of every kind,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">A soft compunction turns the afflicted mind;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Virtues neglected then, adored become,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And graces slighted, blossom on the tomb.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Crabbe.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Lucy</span> had been standing at the window of her
+own apartment, watching for the return of the
+equestrians, and from hence she had first seen
+with amazement the pace at which Lady Gayland
+was returning; Castleton not, as usual,
+attending closely on her, but lingering some
+distance in the rear. It was not till she had
+seen the violent manner in which the horse had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160"></span>bolted for the stables, that the truth broke
+upon her. She then became dreadfully alarmed,
+and would have been at once upon the spot,
+but that her agitation impeded her tottering
+steps.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton was, as may be supposed, painfully
+anxious to ascertain whether Lucy had heard
+the unguarded expressions which he had incautiously
+dropped, but there was nothing in
+her immediately subsequent conduct, from which
+he could form a guess whether this had been
+so or not. She assisted with zeal and alacrity
+in every thing that was necessary to be attempted
+to bring Lady Gayland to her senses,
+and arranged, in concurrence with Castleton,
+the manner in which she had best be conveyed
+to the house.</p>
+
+<p>The servants had by this time collected,
+upon the alarm of seeing the two horses return
+without riders to the stables. The removal to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161"></span>the house was effected without difficulty, which
+seemed to confirm the hope that no limb was
+fractured; and in the shortest possible space of
+time, the best medical advice was procured.
+The surgeon expressed a fear, from the state
+of torpor in which she remained, that there
+might be a concussion of the brain, and, above
+all things, enjoined the strictest quiet, and
+that she should be left to the care of her own
+maid.</p>
+
+<p>It was not till Lucy was thus dismissed from
+any further attendance, that she owned that she
+herself was far from well; though, indeed, her
+countenance (now first observed) showed that
+she was suffering acute pain; all that night
+she was in considerable danger, and the next
+morning produced the premature birth of a
+dead child.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton, kind and affectionate in his nature,
+was, as may well be supposed, driven
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162"></span>almost distracted by her fearful state; aggravated
+as his anxieties were, by the idea that he
+had himself been the cause of the calamity.
+During some of the moments in which it was
+thought most doubtful how it might end,
+Lucy kept constantly repeating to her husband,
+“It was only the fright—it was the
+fright. I thought she was killed, and that
+frightened me so—but that was all:” and
+this anxious disavowal of any other cause
+of agitation, made Castleton only the more
+fear that it was too probable she had heard
+the expressions into which his alarm had betrayed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the perfect quiet in which Lady
+Gayland was necessarily left, contributed as
+much as any thing to her progressive recovery.
+Lucy was, of course, unable for some time to
+go near her, and she availed herself of the strict
+rules of English decorum, to exclude Castleton
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163"></span>also, as long as she was confined to her own
+room.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she was sufficiently re-established
+to be able to move, Lady Gayland announced
+that circumstances prevented her from any longer
+delaying her departure. She took an affectionate
+leave of Lucy, and an unmarked
+farewell of Castleton. In answer to Lucy’s inquiries,
+whether she still felt any ill effects
+from her fall, she replied in the negative;
+professing, at the same time, that she had no
+particular recollection of the circumstances
+which accompanied the accident. This oblivion,
+if real, was fortunate; if assumed, was
+judicious.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton and Lucy were thus once more
+left alone, and had she really been all in all to
+him, he could not more tenderly and anxiously
+have watched over her slowly returning strength.
+Before she was by any means restored to health,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164"></span>this tranquil state was broken in upon by a
+melancholy piece of intelligence, which, under
+present circumstances, affected Lucy more
+deeply, perhaps, than would be imagined by
+those of my gentle readers who have attended
+to the incidents of her early life. A letter arrived
+from her aunt Alice, announcing the
+sudden death of her mother.</p>
+
+<p>The end of Mrs. Darnell had been in some
+respects characteristic. It will be recollected,
+that her neighbours were few and distant; and
+those she had, she did not often visit, excepting
+one, a farmer’s wife, who had, in the time of
+high prices, indulged in luxuries, which Mrs.
+Darnell had always thought sinful. Having
+heard that this woman’s daughter, a pretty
+boarding-school miss, had eloped from a country
+town with a cornet, Mrs. Darnell could not
+deny herself the satisfaction of going over, as
+she said, to condole with her; though in reality
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165"></span>to impress upon her, how the <em>edication</em> which
+<em>she</em> had given <em>her</em> daughter had just fitted her
+to be a lady of the land.</p>
+
+<p>The length of this lecture, during the whole
+of which she had sat in wet clothes, brought on
+an inflammatory cold, in the early stages of
+which she had grudged herself a doctor, and
+in the more advanced period of the disease she
+had got up and gone down thrice to see the
+shamefu’ dinner that Richard had ordered
+Betty to dress for him, “which,” she said,
+“was just of a piece with all the rest.” This
+was her last grievance; for, by her ill-timed,
+economical imprudence, she had brought on a
+typhus fever, of which in a few days she had
+fallen the victim.</p>
+
+<p>This event was a severe shock to Lucy.
+Mrs. Darnell was in no respect a bad, though
+an unamiable woman; and in the endearing relation
+of mother and daughter, it was impossible
+that, with such a child as Lucy, there should
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166"></span>not have been many moments which had left
+an impression stronger than that of her habitual
+irritation of temper. Besides, in these
+cases, the mind is a sort of intellectual virtuoso,
+collecting and treasuring up, in proportion to
+their rarity, any traits of kindness which death
+has stamped with the fictitious value of reliques.
+On more general grounds, this melancholy
+event depressed Lucy severely. The abrupt
+manner in which she had heard of the catastrophe,
+proved to her how complete was her
+isolation from the home of her childhood,
+how absolute her separation from all those
+to whom formerly her every hour had
+been devoted, and with whom every care
+had been divided. She had always considered
+her parting with her family as only
+temporary, but this showed that, whilst with
+so few interests in common, communications
+were so rare between them, their parting had
+been transformed into a final one, without that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167"></span>warning which might have enabled her to have
+been present at its termination, or, at any rate,
+have somewhat prepared her to meet the worst
+with fortitude.</p>
+
+<p>It was on her mother that this first blow had
+fallen; the same might shortly be the case with
+her father. The letter, which announced her
+mother’s death, contained little more than a
+recital of the melancholy event, and of the circumstances
+which had attended it; in the next
+communication, however, which she received
+shortly after from her aunt, much mention was
+made of her father’s lonely situation, and she
+learned how frequently he dwelt upon the privation
+of his dear child’s society, a loss which
+he now so deeply felt. Feeble as Lucy still
+was, this excited an immediate and anxious
+desire to go to him without delay, and she
+pressed her request upon Castleton more earnestly
+than she had previously done any wish,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168"></span>of the favourable reception of which she was
+not certain. Castleton was too much touched
+with her present depression of spirits, and,
+consequently, too anxious to accede to any desire
+of hers, to start any other difficulty than
+his fears that her strength might not be equal
+to the undertaking.</p>
+
+<p>Morden Bay, it will be recollected, was in a
+very remote and secluded situation: there was
+only one carriage road to it, the same by which
+the pic-nic party had returned to Hornscliff,
+and that, besides being very rough and difficult,
+was exactly in an opposite direction to the
+place at which they were at present residing.
+It was difficult, therefore, to arrange the method
+of putting her views into execution, whilst
+she was still so far from being perfectly recovered,
+that even an easy journey would not
+have been undertaken without fatigue.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she could bear the attempt, a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169"></span>plan occurred to Castleton, by which the difficult
+part of the undertaking might be overcome.
+There was a little sea-bathing place,
+called Sandford, at about forty miles distant
+from Morden Bay, considerably nearer to Somersby,
+and here his friend, Lord Stayinmore,
+had his yacht in waiting for him, in case he
+should come back that way from his grouse-shooting
+in Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Stayinmore was one of those persons,
+who, with unlimited powers to multiply their
+luxuries, often find that there is one thing
+which they cannot purchase, which is, the time
+necessary to the successive enjoyment of them
+all. This was quite the case in the present
+instance. Whilst staying at Cowes, he had
+been seized with a sudden fancy to have a
+yacht, and belong to the Royal Yacht Club.
+He had immediately purchased, at an exorbitant
+price, the fastest sailer; but this year the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170"></span>grouse had tempted him into Scotland; and as
+his shooting-box is in the Central Highlands,
+whilst “he lies amongst the moors,” his yacht
+was ordered to anchor in some port in the north
+of England, in case he should wish for a sail,
+upon his return.</p>
+
+<p>It was not very agreeable to Castleton to ask
+a favour from a man of Lord Stayinmore’s character;
+but the circumstances of the case induced
+him to get over his delicacy on this head,
+and he was rewarded by receiving for answer a
+most prompt acquiescence in his request, putting
+the vessel entirely under his command,
+with a profusion of assurances of the peculiar
+felicity it gave him to contribute in any way to
+Lady Castleton’s comfort. The journey to
+Sandford was accomplished by easy stages,
+though hastened by Lucy’s impatience to relieve
+her father’s lonely situation.</p>
+
+<p>Since the second letter of her aunt, Richard
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171"></span>Darnell’s solitude had been broken in upon
+by a most unexpected return: which had
+happened so recently that the event had not
+been notified in another letter to Lucy. The
+ship in which George had been placed had
+been homeward bound much sooner than had
+been contemplated; having been freighted with
+some ex-emperor, or potentate on half-pay.
+George, upon the receipt of the account of his
+aunt’s death, had immediately obtained leave;
+had started for home to see his uncle, and was
+at present staying at Morden Bay. He had
+hitherto conducted himself, in his new career,
+to the complete satisfaction of all his superiors,
+and his own merit, coupled with Castleton’s
+recommendation, had placed him near his captain,
+who had made him his clerk and employed
+him in a confidential manner.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Twelve">XII.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent6">What other can she seek to see,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Than thee, companion of her bower,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">The partner of her infancy?</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">She is back again in her sunny home,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And thick and fast the beatings come</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Of that young heart, as ’round she sees</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">The same sweet flowers, the same old trees.</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">It is her home, but all in vain</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Some lingering things unchanged remain;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">The present wakes no smile; the past</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Have tears to bid its memory last.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was already autumn, but autumn stealing
+slowly on, in the guise of summer, when, after a
+few hours’ sail from Sandford, the yacht made
+Morden Bay. Not a ripple was on the wave,
+hardly a breath in the air, as the light and
+graceful vessel rather floated with the tide, than
+was impelled by its half-filled and nearly flapping
+sails, into that romantic haven. Castleton
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173"></span>and Lucy were seated upon the deck. He was
+to leave her upon landing, and to return in the
+yacht to Sandford; as she could not help completely
+concurring with him that it was much
+better that he should not remain with her,
+whilst she resided at her father’s. Still the return
+without him to scenes from which he only
+had separated her, seemed more like a dissolution
+of their connexion, than either the distance
+or the period of their parting appeared to authorise;
+and perhaps the same impression was
+made upon him; for, during the latter part of
+the sail, he kept constantly dwelling, with apparent
+anxiety to convince himself of their certainty,
+on the many projects which he meant to
+put into execution on their re-union.</p>
+
+<p>They were landed just in that identical spot,
+in the centre of Morden Bay, where Lucy and
+George had first been discovered by the party
+from Hornscliff. The old coble, against which
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174"></span>she had then leant, was still moored upon the
+beach, and even so did she now lean with Castleton,
+whilst the boat’s crew were engaged in
+carrying the packages up the cliff. The similarity
+of their local position, with the complete
+change in every other respect which had come
+over them since that epoch, to which their memory
+referred, had, indeed, struck them both
+most forcibly. However this might be, perhaps
+the very nature of those recollections prevented
+them from reciprocating their impressions;
+or perhaps the continued silence which ensued
+might only be produced by the vicinity of Lady
+Castleton’s maid, who was waiting to accompany
+her to the farm.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton had rather disliked the idea of
+Mrs. Jenkins being introduced to a knowledge
+of her mistress’s name, but he could not possibly
+allow her to return home utterly unattended;
+and as he had previously intended to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175"></span>change her waiting-woman before long, he had
+determined that Jenkins’s service should end
+with the residence at the farm.</p>
+
+<p>As the men had returned, and again taken
+their stations in the boat, he proposed to depart,
+and bidding her tenderly farewell, said,
+“Here, then, I now leave you, Lucy.” As
+he uttered these words, a melancholy presentiment
+vibrated through him. <em>Here</em> had been
+his first meeting—here might be his last parting;
+and as he returned to the yacht, his own
+words seemed to cling to him, as he mentally
+repeated, “<em>Here</em>, then, I now leave you,
+Lucy.” He marked her mounting up the steep
+path which led to her father’s house, with slow
+and unsteady steps, for she was still feeble; and
+he compared her present appearance with the
+light elastic gait, with which he had seen her
+bound up that same path. Who but himself
+had produced this sad change? With bitter
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176"></span>repentance he thought how completely his experiment
+had failed; and the notions, which
+had induced him to attempt it, now appeared
+to him in all the naked deformity of selfishness,
+stripped of that disguise of assumed diffidence
+and self-distrust, in which habitual sophistry
+had hitherto concealed them from his own penetration.
+He had gradually been convinced how
+almost impossible it was to fit her to perform,
+with comfort to herself and credit to him, her
+part in that sphere to which he had so abruptly
+transferred her.</p>
+
+<p>And yet, on the other hand, after the attempts
+that he had for many months made to
+eradicate all early impressions, did she on this
+melancholy occasion return the same, to the
+home of her childhood? Was it likely that
+she would now be able as naturally and efficiently
+to fulfil all those filial offices which had
+formerly been her delight? He asked himself
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177"></span>the question, how had he repaid her for the
+destruction of so many habitual sources of
+innocent satisfaction? Was she now, as she
+ought to be, the unique object of his thoughts?
+He turned his head away in shame at the consciousness
+of feeling how unable he was to
+answer the question as he ought; but he looked
+on the wide waste of waters before him, as if
+to lose himself and his reflections on that indefinite
+horizon, rather than own, by a glance in an
+opposite direction, that his thoughts turned
+towards Sandford, and the possible prospect
+he thought there was of his there meeting Lady
+Gayland.</p>
+
+<p>But let us not make him out worse than
+he was: it was no deliberate intention of this
+kind which had made him originate the plan;
+but perhaps the casual mention, by that lady,
+of Lord Stayinmore’s yacht being at the watering-place,
+to which she might be tempted to go
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178"></span>in the course of the autumn, had first suggested
+to Castleton the idea of asking for the loan of
+the vessel.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy had by this time, with much effort,
+half ascended the cliff, and she now stopped to
+rest at an angle of the path, in an arbour which
+had been constructed by herself and her cousin
+George, in the days of their childhood; and as
+she prepared to seat herself within it, she clung
+for support to those own sturdy boughs, which,
+as tendrils, she had formerly moulded to her
+will; and as her maid, on whom she had
+leant for assistance in the ascent, was a person in
+whom she could not confide, she sat here for a
+while in silence, reflecting on past times. She
+drew her sable-lined cloak more closely about
+her; for in spite of the cheerfulness of the
+scene around, she felt the morbid chilliness of
+lingering debility and shattered nerves; ills
+which, on that spot, she had certainly never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179"></span>suffered from before; but now she sat and
+shivered in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>And even thus she was marked from near
+by one who longed to offer assistance, yet dared
+not. George, at the first seeing her from the
+garden above, as she landed from the boat, had
+rushed downwards; but his courage had failed
+him as he approached; and he, who had braved
+dangers in every shape, and in every clime,
+now, on this well-known spot, feared to encounter
+the playmate of his infancy, the confidant
+of his childhood; and as she neared the
+spot at which he had hesitated and stopped, he
+hid himself, crouching in the copse behind the
+arbour, to mark her more closely before presenting
+himself to her notice.</p>
+
+<p>He had known her from a distance; that is,
+having heard that she was shortly expected, and
+to arrive by sea, although the day had not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180"></span>been fixed, he felt assured that this must be
+her. Yet, upon beholding her nearer, so much
+was she changed, that he felt disposed to doubt
+her identity. She had grown much thinner,
+and this effect was increased by her mourning
+attire. He had never before seen her in the
+garb of woe, through all the long years which
+they had passed together. Custom in her case
+would not have required her to assume it for a
+distant relative, nor had sad necessity obliged
+her to wear it for any one whom she would have
+really lamented. And if (thought he) she
+should be as much altered in inward feeling, as
+in outward appearance—if even now, sitting
+alone in that arbour, where we have together so
+often lingered, there is a constraint in her manners,
+who knows whether that constraint would
+be removed, or would assume only a more
+chilling coldness, at again suddenly beholding
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181"></span>the companion of her youth? This fear pressed
+so strongly upon his mind that he stirred not
+from his concealment, but suffered her to pass
+on undisturbed.</p>
+
+<p>She again commenced languidly ascending
+the remaining part of the cliff, leaning on her
+maid, whose patience was very much exhausted,
+and who could not help at last exclaiming;
+“Well to be sure, my lady, this is the most
+horriblest outlandish place I ever seed; I
+wonder that you, who knowed afore how bad it
+was, ever thought of returning to it again; it
+would have been different if you had been
+brought to it unsight unseen.”</p>
+
+<p>“Such as it is,” replied Lady Castleton,
+“there is no carpeted hall where I have wandered,
+since last I was here, which I have
+trodden with half the pleasure that I feel as I
+again climb this rugged ascent.”</p>
+
+<p>Further comment on the part of her loquacious
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182"></span>attendant was for the present prevented;
+for they had at length reached the ledge upon
+which Bankside Farm-house was situated, and
+Lucy was received in the arms of her aunt
+Alice.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Thirteen">XIII.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">And if there be a human tear,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">From passion’s dross refined and clear&#x2060;—</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">A tear so tempered and so meek</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">That would not stain an angel’s cheek&#x2060;—</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">’Tis that which tender fathers shed</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Upon a duteous daughter’s head.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Alice Darnell</span> had rather expected her niece
+on this day, though none in particular had
+been specified by Lady Castleton, in the announcement
+of her intention. She had, therefore,
+come over to her brother’s to meet her.
+The farmer himself was, at the moment of her
+arrival, out superintending his labourers—employment
+being more than ever necessary to
+him. Alice Darnell, therefore, took this opportunity
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184"></span>to announce to Lucy the return of
+her cousin George, thinking, with a woman’s
+recollections of past times, some preparation for
+that event expedient. So announced, Lucy was
+prepared for the reception of her cousin, when,
+having first watched her progress upwards
+from his hiding-place, he soon afterwards himself
+made his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy’s greeting of him was frank and cordial;
+and if there was, on either side, any awkwardness
+in the meeting, it was screened from observation
+by the immediate entrance of her father,
+whose voice was first heard exclaiming, “Where
+is she? where is’t my darling? my little Lucy!”
+and he rushed into her arms. “Hast spoilt
+her by making Lady Lucy on her? Noa;
+there’s still the same gentle look, and kind eye.
+But let’s look again: why, she’s a sight
+thinner nor she was. Hast not fed, dear? How’s
+this?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185"></span></p>
+
+<p>“No, father; you forget I’ve been ill, and of
+course in distress too; nothing more.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yees; but the pratty plump cheek’s quite
+dipped in, I’s sure; and what’s this?” encircling
+with the capacious span of his finger and
+thumb, her somewhat emaciated arm, through
+the ample folds of her crape gigot sleeve, “Why’s
+not now half the size. Ah! these vanities,”
+said he, thrusting his fingers through the
+bows which, in the fashion of that day, hung
+from the shoulder; “this here ribbon grass is
+a terrible crop for wasting the soil that grows
+it. But this is a sad lonely house you’re come
+to now, Lucy,” as his thoughts turned to the
+cause of her visit; “sad, lonely place, indeed.
+Why there’s nobody now to keep nout in
+order. Cocks and hens just walk in at the
+front door, and Betty and the farming-men
+walk out at the back jist when they both like;
+and neither niver stop to ask my leave, whether
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186"></span>one may come in, or t’other gang out; and
+I’s sure, even the kitchen clock there, like
+a big coward, has ticked twice as loud, since
+there has been none to talk against it.”</p>
+
+<p>But seeing that this allusion, homely as it
+was, to the recent calamity, had still the effect of
+upsetting Lucy, and causing her to weep bitterly,
+he stopped short, saying, “No; but no
+more of this at present;” and, though not celebrated
+for tact, the intuitive effort of kind
+feeling, and true affection, enabled him soon to
+recover his composure; and by way of turning
+the conversation, he asked her, “And hast seen
+many fine folks in your fine hoam, Lady
+Lucy? Ah! let them come as fine, and as
+many, and as used to bedizenment as they may
+be, there’lt have been none to match my little
+Lucy in <em>prattiness</em>. Her little nose is still as
+<a id="chg9"></a>straight as ever; there’ll have been none there to
+put it out of joint.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Dear father, your partiality makes you
+fancy that there is nothing in the world like
+your little Lucy; but if you’d been where I’ve
+been biding, you would soon have learnt the
+difference. We have not seen much company;
+but there is one that would in every respect
+shame me in the comparison. Lady Gayland
+is as much above me in beauty, as in book-learning.”</p>
+
+<p>“And Lady Gayland has been staying with
+you at Lord Castleton’s house?” said George,
+inquiringly, as if he knew something about her,
+that made this a matter of surprise to him.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, dear Lady Gayland. But why
+should that surprise you?” asked Lucy, in her
+turn, anxious to find out on what his knowledge
+of Lady Gayland was founded; but he evaded
+further mention of the subject on that occasion.
+Some time afterwards, however, when
+they were alone together, and she again alluded
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188"></span>to Lady Gayland, he also again hinted
+his surprise, that she should have been a guest
+in Castleton’s house; and when pressed by
+Lucy to explain what he knew of that lady,
+he began by asking whether she remembered
+Jack Carter.</p>
+
+<p>This preliminary having, after reciprocal
+explanation, been assented to, George continued
+that, immediately after her wedding,
+Jack Carter had returned to Somersby, previously
+to sailing in the ship to which
+Castleton had recommended him, and which
+was the same to which George himself belonged.
+He had remained some few days in
+the neighbourhood, to renew acquaintance with
+his early friends, amongst whom were many of
+Lord Castleton’s present establishment; and,
+upon joining the ship, he told George, to whom,
+as acquainted with all the circumstances, he
+thought he could, without displeasing his patron,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189"></span>communicate in confidence; that what most excited
+the general surprise at my Lord’s unexpected
+marriage, was, that it had been the universal
+impression, from the reports made by
+those servants who had been abroad with him,
+that he was certainly to be united to Lady
+Gayland.</p>
+
+<p>“Even so I thought. What would I now
+give that so it had been. Abroad?—Yes! and
+then I had never seen him but that once. Who
+would not then have been happier?”</p>
+
+<p>“Happier, Lucy?—then <em>you</em> are not happy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Do not ask me, dear George; there was a
+time when I had not a thought that I would
+not have shared with you; but now, there are
+thoughts which are my husband’s alone. Let us
+talk of something else. My poor father!—he’s
+not fitted to live in an empty house; I wish
+you’d fill it for him, George.”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you mean, Lucy, ‘fill it?’”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190"></span></p>
+
+<p>“That you should marry, George. Nay, do
+not start so; I know that you will say that
+your profession takes you much abroad; but
+then your wife might bide your return. She
+would be a comfort to my father, he would be
+a protector to her; and this house might be a
+home to all.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Lucy; I’d better now never try
+to have a home; a roving life is my best
+resource. Change stands to me in the place of
+comfort; and bustle does instead of happiness.
+One could not get a home at once, either, just
+by the wishing it. My notion of home is,
+that every thought, feeling, and wish should
+be in perfect concert, and that the house
+should be the last thing to be in common.”</p>
+
+<p>“This,” thought Lucy, “is his notion of
+home: how different has been my experience of
+it!”</p>
+
+<p>But Lucy was not the only person under
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191"></span>her father’s roof, at the present moment, who
+thought that it would well become George to
+take a wife.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jenkins, Lucy’s maid, being now completely
+enlightened on the subject of her mistress’s
+origin, thought, perhaps, that there must
+be something in the atmosphere of Morden
+Bay, to make <i lang="fr">més-alliances</i> epidemic; and
+with so exaggerated a case of that description
+before her, as the elevation of the farmer’s
+daughter to the peerage, it was no great stretch
+of her imagination, to fancy that she might
+captivate a petty officer; and, as she had here
+little to do, and nobody to see but George, who
+was a good-looking manly youth, it was natural
+for her to suppose herself in love with him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jenkins had good eyes and teeth; and
+though her freshness had been somewhat impaired
+by late hours, having been forced to
+watch in solitude the return of daylight, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192"></span>a succession of <em>young</em> mistresses, yet she
+dressed herself with as much care and success
+as her lady, and was altogether rather a smart
+figure. But if she had been ten times as attractive,
+it is certain that George would, in his
+present position, have viewed her with indifference,
+or rather, not looked on her at all.</p>
+
+<p>When she could no longer resist this conviction,
+her self-complacency could not otherwise
+account for the fact than by imagining that he
+had raised his aspiring eyes as high as her
+mistress; and this idea once received, she became
+impatient to leave her service, and make
+as much mischief of her discovery as she could.
+The defective accommodation of the farmer’s
+house was the plea upon which she chose to
+put her departure. “Very sorry, my lady,
+but I find it quite <em>un</em>possible to remain, if
+I’m to sleep in the <em>hole</em> in which they’ve thrust
+me.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193"></span></p>
+
+<p>“Why, what’s the matter with your room,
+Jenkins?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, my lady, it can’t be supposed that
+I’m to put up with <em>stuccy</em>; I’ve always been
+used to be <em>papered</em>, ever since I went first into
+service.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can only say, Jenkins, that the room in
+which you at present are, is the one out of which
+<em>I</em> never slept till within the last few months.”</p>
+
+<p>“P<em>a</em>rfectly possible, my lady; but there’s
+a difference between what some people are ’customed
+to, and what other people <em>were</em> ’customed
+to.”</p>
+
+<p>Further attempts to appease the irritated
+Abigail, predetermined to be affronted, only
+produced fresh impertinence; and this being
+overheard by George, brought down a sharp
+rebuke, which did not propitiate his slighted
+admirer. The result was, that as no attempt
+to persuade her to stay appeared to Lucy likely
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194"></span>to succeed, she was allowed to depart in a fishing-boat
+for Sandford.</p>
+
+<p>Though Lucy, from motives of delicacy, had
+declined entering into any explanation with
+George, as to the disappointment which she
+had experienced in the state of her husband’s
+feelings towards her; yet she did not think it
+necessary to maintain the same reserve with
+her aunt Alice. But even to her, her regrets
+were general, always accompanied with the expressed
+consciousness of her own deficiencies
+and unfitness; and, if she had gathered any
+specific cause of uneasiness from what she might
+have overheard in the shrubbery, not even to
+the feminine confidante of her early years, did
+she suffer any complaint on that head to pass
+her lips.</p>
+
+<p>Alice, whose acuteness and experience had
+foreseen the probability of many of the drawbacks
+on her niece’s elevation, which had since
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195"></span>occurred, (though they, of course, did not appear
+so inevitable as to justify her in opposing
+what was otherwise so advantageous,) could
+now do no more than advise her to hasten and
+mitigate, as much as she could, any expectations
+of exclusive devotion; and to use every
+exertion that in <em>her</em> conduct, at least, no cause
+of censure might arise.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Fourteen">XIV.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent6">Those who murder fame,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Kill more than life-destroyers.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Castleton</span>, for the first few days at Sandford,
+led a listless, lounging, watering-place kind of
+life. Lady Gayland was not yet come; nor
+did he, among the many casual acquaintances
+that he encountered, find any one calculated
+to be a resource. On the contrary, one unexpectedly
+crossed his path here, the renewal of
+whose acquaintance was most unwelcome; he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197"></span>would even have given much to avoid it. In
+passing, at dusk one afternoon, by a trinket-shop
+on the cliff, he heard his name uttered,
+inquiringly, out of a dark-coloured chaise, with
+rose-coloured blinds. So summoned, he approached,
+and, though the light was already
+too far gone to give more than a general view
+of the features of the person who addressed
+him, yet a disagreeable conviction at once occurred
+to him, through the concurrent accumulation
+of rouge and wrinkles, that he once more
+beheld Lady Madelina Manfred. She addressed
+him in the sickly tone of resuscitated
+sentiment, and requested him to call upon her
+the next day.</p>
+
+<p>There was hardly any thing that he would
+not rather have done, and yet there was hardly
+any thing that he could not better refuse to
+do; and next morning saw him unwillingly
+winding his way towards a cottage <i lang="fr">orné</i> on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198"></span>the cliff, which, with the dark-coloured chariot,
+had been the produce of her recruited finances.
+Poor Manfred had, at length, drank himself to
+death in the Bench; she had therefore come
+upon the entailed property for her settled
+jointure; had quarrelled with, and left Captain
+O’Connor in Connaught; and, with somewhat
+diminished powers, was trying whom she could
+captivate here, to use either as an agreeable
+<i lang="fr">passe-temps</i>, or as a permanent settlement.</p>
+
+<p>For Castleton she had always retained a
+lingering partiality; their connexion, such as
+it was, had taken its date just at that period of
+her life, when a woman of her description is
+peculiarly sensible of the admiration of a very
+young man. He was since married, and therefore
+she could not look forward to any renewal
+of their <i lang="fr">liaison</i>; but as she was not conscious
+of any other change, least of all in herself, she
+still expected from him much devotion of manner.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199"></span>But Castleton’s feelings towards her were
+now, on the contrary, under the influence of
+that most powerful of all re-actions, the thorough
+consciousness of having, with very little
+excuse, made a very great fool of himself. He
+was now perfectly aware of all those faults in her
+character, to which he had formerly been wofully
+blind; and he could not even discover the
+traces of those personal attractions which had
+alone been the cause of that blindness. Therefore,
+though her reception of him was evidently
+studied; her address to him tender and languishing;
+and the effect of her appearance,
+assisted by the softened light that oozed
+through the triply-folded curtains; yet, in
+spite of all this, his manner was as cold as
+it was constrained.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Madelina had always had a passion for
+presents; and on this occasion, several trinkets,
+said to have been sent to her for choice, were
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200"></span>artfully displayed upon the table. Castleton
+could not mistake the hint intended; but he
+hesitated at first, between a dislike to take this
+particular method of checking her expectations,
+and the danger of encouraging these too far,
+by acceding to her evident wish. At last, as
+the best way of making good his retreat out
+of the room, he begged her acceptance of the
+article which seemed most to have tempted her
+fancy; accompanying his exit with an expression
+of his regret that he was so much occupied
+at present, that he could have but few opportunities
+of repeating his visit.</p>
+
+<p>This occupation, which was imaginary at the
+time that it was so pleaded, was soon afterwards
+realized; for Lady Gayland arrived the
+next day, and was followed almost immediately
+by St. Clair and some other young men; as
+well as by two or three families, who having
+latterly been staying at the country-house where
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201"></span>she has been on a visit, near Somersby, had
+been principally tempted by her to take Sandford
+in their way homewards.</p>
+
+<p>Under these circumstances, Castleton found
+it very difficult now to see her alone; a difficulty
+which she seemed by no means anxious to
+remove. How wise would he have thought this
+determination in any other case: how little justice
+did he do to its discretion in his own. A
+man, under the influence of an unhappy passion,
+feeling the obligation, but not having the
+power to resist it, is often the most senseless
+animal in creation: always prone to misconstrue
+the actions of the object of his devotion;
+unreasonable in his expectations of demonstrations
+towards himself, and fastidiously
+criticising her deportment towards any one else;
+equally ready to exact in the one case, or exaggerate
+in the other.</p>
+
+<p>In spite, however, of her previous determination
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202"></span>to avoid it, the intimate footing of society
+at a small watering place, and the tacit
+acquiescence, if not expressed understanding, by
+which, on these occasions, those two people are
+allowed to be most together whose society is
+supposed to be the most agreeable to each
+other, led to interviews which dangerously reminded
+them both of past times, and produced
+some little gossip even beyond their immediate
+circle.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Madelina had, ever since Castleton’s
+visit, and consequent <i lang="fr">cadeau</i>, pestered him
+with incessant pointedly-expressed rose-coloured
+notes; which, after a time, he was rather apt
+to leave unanswered. The cause of this she
+was anxious to discover. Her position in the
+world was a doubtful one; she had been
+avoided, never excluded; no record had ever
+appeared against her: Captain O’Connor, and
+Connaught, were equally distant and unknown.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203"></span>She, therefore, at a watering place, hovered
+sufficiently within the outskirts of society to
+have occasional opportunities of observing Castleton.
+At a raffle, which was held at one of
+the libraries, she met him with Lady Gayland
+hanging on his arm, and addressing him with
+an easy assurance, which she probably had acquired
+in the western province of the sister
+country, said,</p>
+
+<p>“Introduce me to your <em>new</em> friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“Excuse me;” was the laconic reply, pointedly
+expressed.</p>
+
+<p>“This from <em>you</em> to <em>me</em>!” was the equally
+concise retort, as she floated by.</p>
+
+<p>There is nothing in the world so vindictive
+as an irritated fool; and an unexpected opportunity
+occurred of venting, in a congenial manner,
+her spiteful feelings.</p>
+
+<p>The maid whom Lucy had been obliged to
+dismiss from Morden Bay, was landed at Sandford,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204"></span>and sought what might for her too truly
+be termed a suitable service with Lady Madelina
+Manfred. It had always been Lady Madelina’s
+custom to confide much in her maid, though
+the services which she had required had generally
+been in aid of a softer passion than
+hatred. The information that her new attendant
+had been living with Lady Castleton, gave
+her an immediate clue to all the discoveries that
+she most wished to make; and she was not a
+little surprised to find, upon inquiry, that his
+present wife could be no other than the little
+girl whom they had together seen, during their
+excursions on the shores of Morden Bay. The
+details given by Mrs. Jenkins, of the state of
+the establishment during the time that she lived
+with the Castletons, and particularly of the
+present family union at Bankside Farm, furnished
+ample food for mischief, had Lady
+Madelina possessed powers equal to her desire,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205"></span>to wield the weapons thus placed in her
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>But there is one device, the attempt of which
+is open to the poorest, the effects of which may
+content the most rancorous spirit. An anonymous
+letter is a mode of moral murder, which,
+using only a pen for a poniard, and an inkstand
+for a bowl, poisons confidence, and stabs characters
+without fear of detection. A man who
+thus “filches from me my good name,” is free
+from any dread of having the stolen goods found
+upon him; and malignity, thus refined by
+cowardice, feasts satisfactorily upon the mere
+distant imagination of the success of its designs.
+This was the sort of revenge which it occurred
+to Lady Madelina to take; and, collecting some
+topics for mischief from her maid, she concocted
+the following epistle for Lucy in a feigned hand;
+a disguise by no means complete, since the
+highly-scented vellum paper, which was made
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206"></span>use of, would have suggested to any one less
+artless than Lucy, the sort of person from
+whom it came. It began with those assurances
+with which every anonymous letter abounds.</p>
+
+<p>“<em>A friend</em>, deeply <em>interested</em> in the welfare of
+Lady Castleton, begs most anxiously to warn
+her of the doubly dangerous precipice on which
+she at present stands. On one side her character
+is cruelly traduced, and spies set over
+her to endeavour to collect proofs of her criminal
+attachment to <em>one</em> whom it is unnecessary
+to name, but for whom the person who thus
+cautions her, feels assured that she only entertains
+an innocent regard. At the same time
+attempts are carrying on here by the same artful
+woman, who is thus working her ruin, to
+rob her of her husband’s affections. This object,
+the friend who now writes is afraid will
+be more likely to be accomplished than the first
+part of the scheme. At any rate, why is Lady
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207"></span>Castleton not here? In regard alike for her
+reputation and her happiness, she ought not to
+delay her return another instant: already her
+absence is represented as arising from indifference
+to Lord Castleton, and partiality for
+another. She is young in the world, and has
+much to learn; and will not suffer by taking
+this hint from her sincere friend,—Experience.”</p>
+
+<p>Whatever might be the extent of the malice
+with which this was written, the degree of
+misery which it inflicted on the poor girl to
+whom it was addressed, must have excited some
+compunction if it could have been witnessed
+by its author; especially as Lucy was not herself
+so much the object, as the means, of attack
+upon the other two intended victims.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy, with this death-warrant of her happiness,
+as she considered it, in her hand, felt as
+solitary in the centre of her family, as she had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208"></span>done in the midst of the strange society to
+which she had been transplanted. To whom
+could she willingly confide insinuations so degrading
+to herself, so injurious to her husband?
+The experience of the short time that had
+elapsed since her return to Bankside, had served
+to convince her how little the greater part of
+what she had lately learnt, could be understood
+by those amongst whom she had previously
+lived. She could not, therefore, for the world
+acknowledge to her father, still less to her
+cousin, that she could believe that there was
+any foundation in that which was asserted
+about her husband: and as little, she knew,
+would they credit what was said about herself.
+Nay, she even shrunk from showing the odious
+letter to her aunt, with whom she felt that she
+could have no half confidences. And yet to herself
+she could not deny, that she thought she
+ought, if possible, to follow the advice it contained,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209"></span>of an immediate return to her husband—but
+on what grounds to explain to her family
+such a previously unmentioned design?</p>
+
+<p>An occasion, however, offered the very next day,
+while she was repining in secret over the contents
+of the hateful communication, which enabled her
+to attribute to the peculiar convenience of the
+opportunity, her intention to avail herself of it.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Stayinmore had had his yacht down
+to Scotland, to convey him Southward, but
+having, before its arrival, changed his mind,
+and being anxious to give some plausible reason
+for so doing, he had sent it back, with an
+elaborately civil note to Lady Castleton, saying
+that “he had desired his vessel might call at
+the Bay where she had landed, (he had forgotten
+its name,) to express his hope that she
+would do him the honour to avail herself of it
+to return home again, to gladden the sight of
+the living world.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210"></span></p>
+
+<p>Lucy, considering this arrival as almost
+providential, signified her intention of immediately
+availing herself of the offer. In vain
+her father and her aunt endeavoured to dissuade
+her, she showed a fixed determination to
+abide by her intention, for which they could
+not account. She, who was generally so gentle
+and pliable, was on this occasion positive and
+unalterable. She refused, even, to detain the
+vessel till the next morning; merely urging as
+a reason that, as it was a convenience offered,
+and a favour conferred, she felt it right to
+avail herself of it, without delay, if at all.</p>
+
+<p>George had stood by in silence during the
+time that this little family debate was carried
+on in the garden in the front of the house, not
+wishing to obtrude his opinion in opposition to
+what appeared to be Lucy’s decided intention;
+but he watched the while, with some inquietude,
+indications of the weather, which his general
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211"></span>nautical experience, and previous knowledge
+of the signs to be remarked on that particular
+spot, combined to make him fear promised but
+a rough and disagreeable passage for a delicate
+female.</p>
+
+<p>The season was now far advanced: autumn,
+though still gleaming with an insidious smile,
+appeared generally in its own blustering nakedness.
+As they stood in the little garden,
+amongst the now bare and lifeless bushes, the
+fallen leaves rustled round them in fitful eddies.
+The wind, though not loud or high, was unsteady.
+The little vessel, although moored
+within the sheltered bay, in smooth, and apparently
+unruffled waters, heaved slowly and
+solemnly under the influence of a heavy ground
+swell from without; and though, with the exception
+of some light, fleecy clouds, whose
+fantastic shapes seemed to sport in the sunshine,
+the sky was generally clear, yet a low, thick
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212"></span>bank at sea, which lingered in the offing, appeared
+to George to threaten some unpleasant
+weather at night, should the little skiff not be
+able to make the port of Sandford before dark.
+Danger he did not himself contemplate; and
+he wished not to prognosticate evil, when she
+seemed so determined not to be dissuaded from
+starting; he therefore merely urged that, if
+she intended to depart that day, there would
+be no unnecessary delay. She thanked him,
+with an expressive glance, for not having opposed
+himself to her wishes.</p>
+
+<p>“One night more, dear Lucy,” said her
+father, as she turned to prepare for her departure.</p>
+
+<p>“My dear father, trust me, I would not
+refuse what I should myself so much wish,
+had I not reasons, which I cannot explain,
+but which convince me of the necessity of no
+delay.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213"></span></p>
+
+<p>“You will at least, though, allow me to
+accompany you as far as Sandford,” said
+George. “Quite alone with strange sailors,
+you cannot think of undertaking the
+voyage.”</p>
+
+<p>Lucy hesitated how to reply to this request.
+The perfect purity of her own mind, and the
+correctness of her conduct, made it difficult
+for her to fancy that any one could believe the
+insinuation in the anonymous letter, of her continued
+attachment to her cousin. Sometimes
+the recollection of past feelings would, perhaps,
+raise a sigh to what might have been; but she
+never had thought of those times and her
+cousin, but as referring to prospects which her
+conduct had closed for ever against her; still
+if such reports had been spread, the idea of returning
+to her husband in company with
+George, caused her more fear than the alternative
+of braving the dangers of the voyage
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214"></span>alone. She therefore answered, “I had rather
+go by myself, dear George.”</p>
+
+<p>But her father was not so easily satisfied:
+the experience of an unexpected bereavement,
+to one previously so prosperous, had made him,
+for the present, morbidly alive to danger. “I’m
+not now,” he said, “the fool-hardy swaggerer
+that I used to be; who just thought no harm
+could happen, because it hadn’t happened afore.
+Yet even now Richard Darnell’s fears are not
+to be slighted; and I shall jist have no rest,
+unless you take George wi’ you.” To the desire
+thus urged by her father, and seconded by
+her aunt’s entreaties, Lucy gave way, and consented
+that George should accompany her.
+He immediately proceeded to facilitate preparations
+for their departure; but even with his
+exertions they were rather tardy, and it was
+much later than he could have wished before
+they embarked.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215"></span></p>
+
+<p>Richard Darnell, and his sister, once more
+stood side by side to watch the departure of
+their beloved Lucy, though under different
+circumstances. Their fears were complicated,
+and their hopes were chastened, since they had
+marked her borne away from the church by
+her noble bridegroom. They had ascended the
+cliff, and reached the ledge on which the farm-house
+was situated, just as the little bark
+cleared the promontory of the bay; and as the
+freshening breeze met them on their ascent to the
+upper land, they turned again to watch the progress
+of a vessel that bore a freight so precious
+to them both; and they observed, with no little
+anxiety, that she, at the same moment began
+to pitch sharply and violently as she cut
+through the increasing foam of the now unsheltered
+waters.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Fifteen">XV.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent18">For several virtues</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Have I liked several women. Never any</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">With so full soul, but some defect in her</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And put it to the foil. But you, O you,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">So perfect and so peerless, are created</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Of every creature’s best.</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Have not all past human beings parted?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And must not all the present one day part?</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> has been said that it was Lady Gayland’s
+intention to avoid, as much as possible, the
+particular attentions of Castleton. The difficulty
+of carrying this intention into effect very
+much increased, as the society, in which they
+lived, itself diminished. It is a hard task
+too, to have always to count the sentences you
+may with discretion accord to one whose society
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217"></span>you prefer; particularly as there was nothing
+actually in Castleton’s deportment to put
+the most prudent upon her guard. Since that
+eventful day at Somersby, when circumstances
+had betrayed him into an unfortunate indiscretion,
+his address to her had always been studiously
+unobjectionable. It was only when,
+acting upon her present system, she made her
+attentions to any one else more conspicuous,
+that his impatience prevented him from altogether
+concealing his feelings: at other times,
+when enjoying her society, he seemed to be
+perfectly convinced that she could never be to
+him other than a chosen companion.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Gayland was fully conscious of the
+danger of this position; she wanted not the
+<a id="chg10"></a>innuendoes of the world to enlighten her as to
+its tendency; her own heart was to her the best
+warning that it was a provisional state of
+things which could not always continue. Could
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218"></span>she have foreseen its natural termination, she
+would have been most desirous to await that;—but
+when was it to end? The return of Lady
+Castleton, with her partiality for herself, would
+only facilitate and organise an intimacy. With
+this conviction upon her mind, after many
+painful struggles, her resolution was taken;
+and when once decided, the arrangements in
+furtherance of it were made immediately, and
+in secret. She was most anxious to avoid, if
+possible, any thing in the shape of remonstrance
+from Castleton; but, above all, a protracted
+contest on the subject, which she felt
+must be peculiarly painful.</p>
+
+<p>It was the afternoon of the same day on
+which Lucy embarked from Morden Bay, that
+Castleton, upon calling at Lady Gayland’s
+lodgings, was struck with the denuded and uninhabited
+appearance of the apartment, from
+which all its comforts had been removed. He
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219"></span>had hardly time to make this observation, when
+a travelling carriage, heavily laden, drove up
+to the door, and at the same moment, Lady
+Gayland, equipped as for a journey, entered
+the room. Her countenance was calm, but
+unusually pale; and a slight tremor betrayed
+itself through the forced firmness of her voice,
+as she said, “Castleton, you know I never had
+any opinion of a system of palliatives: a disagreeable
+thing that must be done decidedly,
+may as well be communicated directly. If
+you—if you—regard me, do not attempt to dissuade
+me from what I would myself avoid, if
+possible. I am about to leave Sandford—and—<em>I
+winter at Rome</em>.”</p>
+
+<p>“At Rome!” repeated Castleton, starting
+back, and concentrating into the tone in which
+he uttered those two words, the expression of
+despair at extinguished happiness. “At Rome!
+No—it must not be.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220"></span></p>
+
+<p>At that moment a servant came in to fetch
+Lady Gayland’s writing-desk, which, alone,
+had not yet been consigned to the carriage.
+It was one of those inopportune entrances,
+which it was difficult to bear, but still more
+difficult to resist. The moments occupied in
+enclosing the desk in its case seemed interminable:
+it was impossible that one word could
+meanwhile be exchanged between the parties.
+Castleton had turned his back at once, upon
+the man’s entrance, and stood, without moving,
+with his face towards the chimney-piece; and
+Lady Gayland watched, with intense anxiety,
+all the varied workings of his expressive
+countenance, as portrayed in the mirror before
+him. When at length the servant had
+again left the room, Castleton turned slowly
+round, advanced towards Lady Gayland, took
+her hand between his, and with effort gasped
+forth, “Geraldine—you are right!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221"></span></p>
+
+<p>This unexpectedly generous acquiescence in
+the propriety of her determination, powerfully
+increased all her feelings in his favour, and
+added therefore to the difficulty of concealing
+her own weakness. Again, for some moments,
+they stood as silent as if an eye-witness had
+been in the room: at last he continued—“’Tis,
+however, somewhat sudden. I cannot yet quite
+forget what my prospects were the last hour—what
+they are this. Mystery and concealment
+need no longer be maintained, when all will
+so soon be over. Of course, I cannot conceal
+from myself that <em>I</em> am connected with this
+determination.”</p>
+
+<p>“Castleton, I had hoped, by the course
+which I have taken, to have been spared explanation,
+useless to you—injurious to myself:
+but after the noble and disinterested manner
+in which you have facilitated the execution of
+my project, by acknowledging its propriety, I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222"></span>cannot refuse to answer your question, if you
+press for reply.”</p>
+
+<p>“I press for nothing that can be painful
+to yourself. I <em>can</em> have no claim on you.”</p>
+
+<p>“You feel that it is not necessary,” added
+she, faintly smiling, “to force me to a verbal
+confession that it was the influence which I
+felt you <em>must</em> have over my actions, if I stayed,
+which has induced me to take this irrevocable
+step.”</p>
+
+<p>“This candid avowal, at such a moment,
+only the more completely exposes the folly of
+my former wilful blindness. But think not
+now that I ever dared to shape my rash hopes
+into any other form than the being allowed on
+sufferance the enjoyment of your society: I
+had not the shadow of an excuse for further
+presumption. Had I first known you bound
+in loathsome chains, I fear that a sense of
+moral obligation might have in vain attempted
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223"></span>to arrest the force of my passion in its endeavours
+to break these chains asunder. But
+you are still free—free as when I first loved
+you; and I am the cause of my own bondage.
+That fatal mistake—I had had painful
+experience of your sex—and by this I blindly
+judged a manner peculiar to yourself—I
+thought myself again deceived: I felt that
+any thing like you, yet not yourself, would be
+unendurable. I sought, therefore, in another
+rank of life a perfect contrast. All that I
+could, in common reason, have expected in
+such an experiment, I have obtained: and with
+it every tie of honour obliges me to be satisfied—and
+so I will. Go, dearest Lady Gayland,
+where prudence calls you. I have again
+deceived myself in fancying that I could live
+with you as a friend. The attempt has
+been useless. Go—you may still be happy in
+forgetting him who has only himself to blame.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224"></span></p>
+
+<p>“No; not entirely so. I feel that I likewise
+was formerly much to blame; but my
+error was unintentional. I was always a
+strange, unaccountable creature: I never could
+drill my deportment into intelligible discipline;
+and, singular as it may seem, the same heedless
+appearance was sometimes caused by directly
+opposite feelings. It was, I believe, those
+very high spirits, produced by the conviction
+of your attachment, which excited, at Rome,
+that levity of which you complained: had I
+been more of a coquette at heart, I should
+have been less a coquette in manner. Here,
+on the contrary, where I have been really unhappy,
+as the sad certainty broke upon me that
+I could not consider you only as a friend,
+though still hoping that mine was a love as
+passionless as human heart can know, I have
+endeavoured to lose for a moment that consciousness
+in the frivolous society of others.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225"></span>Believe me, a gay tone often conceals more
+anguish than it causes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe all you say—I admire all you
+do—I despise myself—and I submit.”</p>
+
+<p>“The carriage is quite ready, my Lady,”
+said a servant opening the door, and then
+closing it again.</p>
+
+<p>“O not yet!” exclaimed Castleton, “I had
+so much more to say.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it, for either of our sakes, desirable to
+prolong these sad moments?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; and yet I would postpone, if it were
+even for an instant, the dreary void in existence
+which will succeed your departure. Whilst
+you are still here, I have not yet the actual
+consciousness that she, who was but this morning
+the charm of every prospect, has for ever
+faded from my sight. But this is wrong; your
+firmness deserves better support from me. I
+feel the value, especially to you, of appearances
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226"></span>on this occasion. One moment more, and I
+will be ready.”</p>
+
+<p>He took two or three hasty strides across the
+room—clenched his hands violently—pressed
+his teeth against his closed lips—and then, with
+forced composure, said, “Now I am ready to
+attend you to your carriage.”</p>
+
+<p>As they descended the first flight of stairs,
+Lady Gayland softly murmured, “One word
+at parting: cherish your wife; she loves you,
+and <em>you</em> should at least make <em>her</em> happy.”</p>
+
+<p>Castleton pressed her arm against his heart,
+and nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>“Not quite ready, my Lady,” said the same
+servant, “the chaise seat was forgot, in Mademoiselle’s
+room.”</p>
+
+<p>As they had with much effort screwed their
+courage to the point, this suspense was even
+more painful than their parting would have
+been a few moments before; but there was no
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227"></span>resource, and they stood leaning against the wall
+at the head of the first flight of steps. Availing
+himself of this opportunity, Castleton added,
+“You will at least allow me to write to you;
+there are so many subjects—indifferent subjects
+I mean—in the retired life that I intend to lead,
+and I shall have no one near me with whom I
+can communicate. To this, at least, there can
+be no objection.”</p>
+
+<p>To this request Lady Gayland hesitated how
+to reply. “For the present,” said she, “let us
+settle nothing but separation; it may be a
+satisfaction to us hereafter that, at least for the
+time, we made that complete.”</p>
+
+<p>“Quite ready, my Lady,” was again announced,
+before Castleton could further urge
+his request. As they descended the stairs they
+seemed both nerved for the trial of the ultimate
+parting. Groups of idlers on horseback, casual
+acquaintances returning from the parade, made
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228"></span>this exertion the more necessary. “An odious
+day,” exclaimed one. “The most disagreeable
+that I ever knew,” added another;—and so they
+passed on, without in the least suspecting that
+those whom they thus concisely greeted, and in
+whom they remarked nothing particular, were
+in the act of perfecting the greatest mutual
+sacrifice that the world could require from
+either. Their hands had at length been severed,
+the door was closed, and the carriage in motion,
+when Lady Gayland covered her face, and
+sobbed aloud, exclaiming indistinctly; “The
+blinds—the blinds—quick. Angélique, <i lang="fr">les rideaux,
+tirez les donc</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are ill, my Lady; <em>will</em> we stop?”</p>
+
+<p>“Stop! No; faster—still faster:” and overwhelmed
+with long suppressed emotion, she
+burst into an hysterical fit of tears.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Sixteen">XVI.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent8">O, I have suffered</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Dashed all to pieces!</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> evening, which was pronounced odious by
+the loungers at Sandford, closed in dark and
+louring over the little vessel still far distant
+from that port which she was endeavouring to
+make.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy had been guilty of an imprudent piece
+of generosity on first coming on board. Castleton
+had always given her an unbounded command
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230"></span>of money, wishing to provide against the
+danger of her having imbibed parsimonious inclinations
+from her mother. Upon their last
+separation, too, he had forced upon her a larger
+sum than usual; thinking it not unlikely that
+she might wish to make a present to her family,
+as from herself, without putting them under an
+obligation to him: but as Farmer Darnell had
+resolutely refused to receive money from her in
+any shape, knowing from whom the funds must
+be derived, she still found herself with an over-burthened
+purse; and, under a restless desire
+to give to some one, and a dislike to cause unrequited
+trouble, she had made a much more
+liberal present to be divided amongst the crew
+of Lord Stayinmore’s yacht, than they had previously
+expected, or than they afterwards
+merited. For, without in the least meaning to
+assert, that an amateur’s crew may not be the
+best in the world, the crew of a neglected yacht
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231"></span>may be supposed likely to get a little disorganized.
+The certainty of this being their last
+voyage for the season, joined to the prospect of
+ample funds, provided for them by Lady Castleton,
+which they would soon be at liberty to
+spend at their own pleasure, determined them
+to make clear ship of what they yet had in
+store; having found out therefore that their
+passenger George, was something of a seaman,
+the helm, after having been transferred from
+one to the other of the crew, was at length consigned
+to him. George readily accepted the
+trust; believing from his knowledge of the
+local difficulties of the coast, that he could steer
+her with the greatest safety. But he was not a
+little uneasy when he saw the purpose for which
+this trust had been abandoned to him.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy sat near the helmsman, inquiring occasionally
+as to their progress, which seemed to
+her impatience slow and tedious. George endeavoured,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232"></span>as far as truth permitted, to tranquillize
+her; but his own anxieties increased,
+as he watched the unclear and thickening
+aspect of the weather, and at the same time
+noted, in the excited countenances of the crew,
+as they occasionally peered above the hatchway,
+how much they were unfitting themselves for
+that calm and efficient assistance, which he
+knew must soon be required.</p>
+
+<p>George’s situation was a difficult one; he could
+not leave the helm, nor could he vociferate all
+he feared, to the unconscious crew, without the
+danger of alarming Lucy. At length, he
+caught within hail one straggler from the revellers
+below; and whispering to him energetically
+the necessity of preparing to resist
+the danger, which was now imminent, said,
+“Are you already so blinded, you besotted drivellers,
+as not to see it yourselves? I have
+witnessed some stiff gales and rough weather
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233"></span>in every part of the world; but with this wind,
+and the lee-shore, and the reef of rocks to weather
+with an ebb-tide, I never saw threaten an uglier
+night, or one that required more care.”</p>
+
+<p>The man stood with the stupid, would-be-wise
+look of incipient inebriety, and said he
+would go and tell his messmates.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy evidently saw, by George’s anxious
+countenance, that all was not right, and looked
+up to him, inquiring, as if demanding that
+he should not conceal from her his thoughts;
+but as a driving rain was just then added to
+the discomforts of the lowering evening, he,
+instead of saying any thing in confirmation of
+her now awakened fears, only urged that she
+should retire below, and not unnecessarily expose
+herself to the storm. But she shook
+her head, saying, “No, George; in my earliest
+dangers I was used to cling to you for
+protection; and it seems more natural-like to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234"></span>bide by you, if we are now in danger—are we,
+George?”</p>
+
+<p>“Danger? no. There’s nothing but what
+such a tight built bark as this ought to ride
+through in safety; but nothing’s to be done
+without hands. If you could but call the
+skipper, Lucy; I cannot leave the helm, even
+for a moment.” Lucy rose on the instant, and,
+impressed with the idea of exerting herself for
+the common safety, she trod the rolling deck
+with unusual firmness and security. The sound
+of her voice unexpectedly calling upon them,
+and urging them solemnly to return to their
+duty, roused the besotted revellers from their
+orgies, and they tumbled, one after the other,
+upon deck, and immediately began to consider
+as to the best method of meeting the danger.</p>
+
+<p>George, now relieved from the helm, insisted
+upon conveying Lucy to the cabin, where she
+would be more safe from the boisterous rudeness
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235"></span>alike of the weather and of the crew.
+“George, I see that you think there’s danger;
+tell me the truth, I pray you; it will be better
+for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can only repeat, that there ought to be
+no danger; but there are points between here
+and Sandford, which require steady heads, and
+skilful pilotage, to weather. The night, too,
+has set in darker than I had hoped, and there
+are those aboard that are not so clear as they
+might be; I certainly fear that, with this
+wind, we shall not get any more sea-room.
+But the best safeguard is, that no one should
+stand idle, whose hand and head are alike
+steady; so I must leave you, Lucy.”</p>
+
+<p>“One moment, George; if the worst should
+happen; that is, if the ship should go down,
+think not of me. You, a man, active, and an
+excellent swimmer, might easily save yourself.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236"></span>As for me, though I would not sinfully hasten
+my end, believe me I feel still less disposed to
+avoid it; for I should not in the least regret to
+die.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Lucy; the first instinct of my nature
+was to assist you, and I should now selfishly
+bless the danger that gave me an unlooked-for
+opportunity of either dying with you, or being
+the means of your salvation.”</p>
+
+<p>“But if to save me be beyond your power,
+then take this little watch to my husband. Tell
+him that he tossed it to me carelessly before he
+loved me; that I valued it as a relic, after he
+had ceased to love me, and that only with the
+prospect of impending death did I part with it.
+No, not even yet will I do so; it will be more
+proper to keep it till the last,” said she, checking
+herself, and again hanging it round her
+neck, and pressing it to her heart. “But,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237"></span>haste, you’re wanted, George;” as a discordant
+cry for him was heard from the crew
+above.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are we, Sir?” eagerly asked several
+voices together.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, fools, dolts, lubbers,” cried George,
+indignant, and at the same time alarmed, “by
+the bearing of those two lights, we should be
+as near as possible over Sunken-Spike Head.”</p>
+
+<p>“No more a lubber than yourself; and
+we’re no more there than we are in hell,” answered
+the offended skipper. But before the
+words had well passed his lips, the violence of
+a sudden shock laid the greater part of the
+already unsteady crew prostrate on the deck;
+and the rest, thus completely sobered, too
+surely knew, from the pointed form of the
+hidden rock, that an incurable leak must be
+sprung.</p>
+
+<p>“The boat—the boat,” was the immediate
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238"></span>cry. The boat was soon lowered, and Lucy,
+almost unconscious, was carried into it by
+George. The crew followed immediately, but
+in much greater numbers than so small a bark
+could possibly hold, with any prospect of escape
+to the passengers. But all remonstrance on
+this subject was rendered unavailing; for whilst
+in this state, the boat was raised for an instant
+on the surface of an enormous breaker, then
+dashed with overpowering force against the
+side of the vessel; and it being thus completely
+swamped, every one endeavoured to provide for
+his own safety as best he might. George, supporting
+Lucy on one arm, and maintaining his
+hold of a stray plank with the other, was left
+at the mercy of the contending billows.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239"></span></p>
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">
+    CHAPTER <abbr title="Seventeen">XVII.</abbr>
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+  <div class="poetry">
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent0">Was it her corpse that he bore for miles,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">When he gladly dreamt of her grateful smiles?</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Silently, as he bore her on,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">Her soul from its gentle frame has gone,</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And never on earth shall his heart discover</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">The moment her love and her life were over.</div>
+      <div class="author">* * * *</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class="stanza">
+      <div class="verse indent4">Lay her i’ the earth;</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">And from her fair and unpolluted flesh</div>
+      <div class="verse indent0">May violets spring!</div>
+      <div class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Castleton</span> had passed all that night in wakeful
+solitude. He had dismissed his servant
+early, as if to write; but instead, had watched
+through the sleepless hours, absorbed in somewhat
+tardy reflections on the state to which he
+had reduced himself. How many prospects,
+which opening life had shown him in perspective,
+had he unaccountably missed in the actual
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240"></span>attainment! How many sources of happiness
+had been dried up, whilst he, instead of partaking
+of their spontaneous flow, had been refining
+over-much on their component qualities.
+Too true it was, that he, the favoured child of
+nature and fortune, had signally failed, both
+in securing his own happiness, and in contributing
+to that of others: and yet, in the
+result, he had no one but himself to blame.</p>
+
+<p>The silence of the hour, and the sad abstraction
+of his thoughts conspired to invest any
+extraneous object, which should force his attention,
+with the morbid impressions of his imagination.
+The fitful gusts of the moaning wind
+seemed to speak a solemn and piteous warning
+to him. He rose and drew aside the window-curtains.
+The dim and struggling dawn had
+just begun to win its hard-fought way through
+the dense masses of fast-rolling clouds, which
+rushed onwards to oppose its progress. For
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241"></span>one moment he felt freshened, as he exposed
+his burning brow to the driving rain. Looking
+forth, he beheld at his own door, a houseless
+mendicant, with a child in her arms, crouching
+for shelter; and as he dropt a coin into her
+hand, he thought, “Poor wretch! your sorrows
+are not of your own devising. One ought
+to be thankful, that neither oneself, nor a beloved
+one, is exposed to such a night as this.”</p>
+
+<p>He had hardly again closed the window,
+when a noise was heard below, and Carter, who
+had been staying with him lately, rushed
+into the room, evidently endeavouring, but in
+vain, through his consternation and distress, so
+to collect himself, as to be able to break to his
+patron some dreadful news.</p>
+
+<p>“O my Lord! prepare for the worst. My
+Lady!—they’re bringing her here!—but it’s
+all over.”</p>
+
+<p>Before he could at all relieve Castleton’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242"></span>agonizing suspense, the frantic figure of George
+stood before them; his eyes staring wildly, and
+his drenched appearance showing from whence
+he had just emerged.</p>
+
+<p>“She’s dead!—she’s dead! You’ll look
+your last on her now; and cursed be the hour
+when you first beheld her!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hold, man!” said Carter; “respect his
+feelings.”</p>
+
+<p>“His feelings! what were his feelings for her
+compared with mine? Who was it, who, in
+the moment of danger was present, to struggle
+for her safety? He who had sworn to love,
+honour, and protect her, or her despised and
+neglected cousin?”</p>
+
+<p>The agony of Castleton, as the truth broke
+upon him, was too intense for utterance, and
+prevented interruption; George, therefore, proceeded
+half raving, “But for that hideous
+breaker which forced us asunder, she might
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243"></span>still have been saved. I stretched forth my
+hand to renew my protecting hold, and this
+met my gripe, and snapped within it,” putting
+his hand into his breast, and producing the gold
+chain and little watch before referred to;—“your
+first fatal gift;” and with that recollection,
+he raised it in his hand furiously, as if
+preparing to dash it to the ground; but checking
+himself, he added, “No; it was her last
+thought, the last request she made!” and, kissing
+it solemnly, he placed it on the table before
+Castleton. “Once more I felt that I had her
+safe. In vain the breakers a second time strove
+to separate us; or, perhaps they only roared in
+mockery at my reviving hopes. I rushed
+through the surf, as I thought in triumph;—she
+was already dead!”</p>
+
+<p>The mournful procession now arrived, bearing
+in a litter the lifeless form of Lucy. There
+was on her no trace of death, beyond the mere
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244"></span>absence of life. Placid, as still in sleep, she lay
+without as yet the paleness of a corpse; no disorder
+in her appearance, except the streaming
+locks of her long fair hair, which, darkened and
+clotted with moisture, hung in tangled masses
+over her features. There was no symptom of
+a struggle on her part; but it seemed rather as
+if, trusting, under Providence, to the efforts of
+him who would have saved her if he could, she
+yielded her spirit to the issue; those lips,
+through which might never more pass the
+slightest breath to stir a feather, or dull a
+mirror, were calmly closed, not forcibly compressed:
+the expression of her whole countenance
+was perfect repose.</p>
+
+<p>As they, who had brought her into the presence
+of her husband, deposited their burthen,
+one arm dropped from her side, and hung
+stiffly down to the ground. Castleton earnestly
+regarded it: there was the hand on which he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245"></span>had placed the wedding-ring; and, as he
+pressed it between his, already cold and clammy
+as it was, the idea that first roused him from
+his stupor into which the sudden shock had
+plunged him was, that she might yet be saved;
+such things had been done before.</p>
+
+<p>With wonderful precision he gave the requisite
+orders for attempting to restore animation.
+George, who had for some time remained silent,
+on hearing this, cried out with a bitter
+smile, “As if I would have left her for a
+moment, had I not too surely known that there
+was no longer such a chance.”</p>
+
+<p>He was right: after many hours’ useless endeavours,
+all were obliged to own that their
+efforts were vain.</p>
+
+<p>George had, in the mean time, been in the
+first paroxysms of a brain fever; through all
+the stages of which Castleton attended him
+with the affectionate care of a brother; and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246"></span>when he was pronounced out of danger, prepared
+to follow the corpse of poor Lucy to
+Somersby, where she was to be interred in the
+family vault. As the orders which Castleton
+had in his first despair given, that every possible
+honour should be paid to her remains,
+were to be acted on by interested parties, they
+had been too extravagantly fulfilled; and
+though, in the stupor of grief, the chief
+mourner was as unconscious of any of the
+surrounding splendours, as the corpse in whose
+honour they were collected, yet she, to whom in
+life pomp had been her only bane, was borne
+unconsciously along with princely and almost
+unparalleled pageantry.</p>
+
+<p>Castleton’s first care, upon somewhat recovering
+his composure, was to exert all his
+influence to advance George in his profession.
+In his wishes to serve the farmer and his sister,
+though equally sincere, he was not equally
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247"></span>successful. Nothing could persuade them to
+leave Bankside, where they remained together,
+still mourning their bereavement.</p>
+
+<p>As to Castleton himself, I have too much
+respect for the intensity of his present grief,
+aggravated in his case by bitter feelings of
+self-reproach, to anticipate the date when that
+elasticity of spirit, which is the never-failing
+attribute of the human mind, shall have enabled
+him to struggle with his present depression,
+and imparting its buoyancy, as it will do
+whenever the heart’s core has not been completely
+crushed, shall, with the assistance of time, have
+triumphed over mortal sorrow.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p4 center ls allsmcap">THE END.</p>
+
+
+<p class="p2 center muchsmaller">LONDON:<br>
+IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.</p>
+
+<hr aria-hidden="true" class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter transnote">
+  <h3 id="Transcribers_Note">
+    Transcriber’s Note:
+  </h3>
+
+<p>A simple table of contents was added for the convenience of
+users. Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent
+hyphenation in the text. These were left unchanged, as were jargon,
+dialect, obsolete and alternative spellings. Ten misspelled
+words were corrected. The word ‘to’ was added to “... sit next <a
+href="#chg6">[to]</a> Lady ...”</p>
+
+<p>Obvious printing errors, such as backwards, upside
+down, reversed, or partially printed letters and punctuation,
+were corrected. Final stops missing at the end of sentences and
+abbreviations were added. Duplicate letters or words at line endings
+were removed. </p>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78690 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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