5 files changed, 63035 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/7tal610.txt b/old/7tal610.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..33f4c2b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/7tal610.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,19969 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales and Novels, Vol. 6, by Maria Edgeworth
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Tales and Novels, Vol. 6
+
+Author: Maria Edgeworth
+
+Release Date: January, 2006  [EBook #9620]
+[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES AND NOVELS, VOL. 6 ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TALES AND NOVELS
+
+VOL. 6
+
+BY
+
+MARIA EDGEWORTH
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ABSENTEE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"Are you to be at Lady Clonbrony's gala next week?" said Lady Langdale
+to Mrs. Dareville, whilst they were waiting for their carriages in the
+crush-room of the opera-house.
+
+"Oh, yes! every body's to be there, I hear," replied Mrs. Dareville.
+"Your ladyship, of course?"
+
+"Why, I don't know; if I possibly can. Lady Clonbrony makes it such
+a point with me, that I believe I must look in upon her for a few
+minutes. They are going to a prodigious expense on this occasion. Soho
+tells me the reception rooms are all to be new furnished, and in the
+most magnificent style."
+
+"At what a famous rate those Clonbronies are dashing on," said colonel
+Heathcock. "Up to any thing."
+
+"Who are they?--these Clonbronies, that one hears of so much of
+late?" said her grace of Torcaster. "Irish absentees, I know. But
+how do they support all this enormous expense?" "The son _will_ have
+a prodigiously fine estate when some Mr. Quin dies," said Mrs.
+Dareville.
+
+"Yes, every body who comes from Ireland _will_ have a fine estate when
+somebody dies," said her grace. "But what have they at present?"
+
+"Twenty thousand a year, they say," replied Mrs. Dareville.
+
+"Ten thousand, I believe," cried Lady Langdale.
+
+"Ten thousand, have they?--possibly," said her grace. "I know nothing
+about them--have no acquaintance among the Irish. Torcaster knows
+something of Lady Clonbrony; she has fastened herself by some means
+upon him; but I charge him not to _commit_ me. Positively, I could not
+for any body, and much less for that sort of person, extend the circle
+of my acquaintance."
+
+"Now that is so cruel of your grace," said Mrs. Dareville, laughing,
+"when poor Lady Clonbrony works so hard, and pays so high to get into
+certain circles."
+
+"If you knew all she endures, to look, speak, move, breathe, like an
+Englishwoman, you would pity her," said Lady Langdale.
+
+"Yes, and you _cawnt_ conceive the _peens_ she _teekes_ to talk of the
+_teebles_ and _cheers_, and to thank Q, and with so much _teeste_ to
+speak pure English," said Mrs. Dareville.
+
+"Pure cockney, you mean," said Lady Langdale.
+
+"But does Lady Clonbrony expect to pass for English?" said the
+duchess.
+
+"Oh, yes! because she is not quite Irish _bred and born_--only bred,
+not born," said Mrs. Dareville. "And she could not be five minutes
+in your grace's company, before she would tell you that she was
+_Henglish_, born in _Hoxfordshire_."
+
+"She must be a vastly amusing personage--I should like to meet her
+if one could see and hear her incog.," said the duchess. "And Lord
+Clonbrony, what is he?"
+
+"Nothing, nobody," said Mrs. Dareville: "one never even hears of him."
+
+"A tribe of daughters, too, I suppose?"
+
+"No, no," said Lady Langdale; "daughters would be past all endurance."
+
+"There's a cousin, though, a Miss Nugent," said Mrs. Dareville, "that
+Lady Clonbrony has with her."
+
+"Best part of her, too," said Colonel Heathcock--"d----d fine
+girl!--never saw her look better than at the opera to-night!"
+
+"Fine _complexion_! as Lady Clonbrony says, when she means a high
+colour," said Lady Langdale.
+
+"Miss Nugent is not a lady's beauty," said Mrs. Dareville. "Has she
+any fortune, colonel?"
+
+"'Pon honour, don't know," said the colonel.
+
+"There's a son, somewhere, is not there?" said Lady Langdale.
+
+"Don't know, 'pon honour," replied the colonel.
+
+"Yes--at Cambridge--not of age yet," said Mrs. Dareville. "Bless me!
+here is Lady Clonbrony come back. I thought she was gone half an hour
+ago!"
+
+"Mamma," whispered one of Lady Langdale's daughters, leaning between
+her mother and Mrs. Dareville, "who is that gentleman that passed us
+just now?"
+
+"Which way?"
+
+"Towards the door.--There now, mamma, you can see him. He is speaking
+to Lady Clonbrony--to Miss Nugent--now Lady Clonbrony is introducing
+him to Miss Broadhurst."
+
+"I see him now," said Lady Langdale, examining him through her glass;
+"a very gentlemanlike looking young man indeed."
+
+"Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner," said her grace.
+
+"Heathcock!" said Lady Langdale, "who is Miss Broadhurst talking to?"
+
+"Eh! now really--'pon honour--don't know," replied Heathcock.
+
+"And yet he certainly looks like somebody one should know," pursued
+Lady Langdale, "though I don't recollect seeing him any where before."
+
+"Really now!" was all the satisfaction she could gain from the
+insensible, immovable colonel. However, her ladyship, after sending
+a whisper along the line, gained the desired information, that the
+young gentleman was Lord Colambre, son, only son, of Lord and Lady
+Clonbrony--that he was just come from Cambridge--that he was not yet
+of age--that he would be of age within a year; that he would then,
+after the death of somebody, come into possession of a fine estate
+by the mother's side; "and therefore, Cat'rine, my dear," said she,
+turning round to the daughter who had first pointed him out, "you
+understand we should never talk about other people's affairs."
+
+"No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma, Lord Colambre did not
+hear what you and Mrs. Dareville were saying!"
+
+"How could he, child?--He was quite at the other end of the world."
+
+"I beg your pardon, ma'am--he was at my elbow, close behind us; but I
+never thought about him till I heard somebody say 'my lord--'"
+
+"Good heavens!--I hope he didn't hear."
+
+"But, for my part, I said nothing," cried Lady Langdale.
+
+"And for my part, I said nothing but what every body knows," cried
+Mrs. Dareville.
+
+"And for my part, I am guilty only of hearing," said the duchess. "Do,
+pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the goodness to see what my people are
+about, and what chance we have of getting away to-night."
+
+"The Duchess of Torcaster's carriage stops the way!"--a joyful sound
+to Colonel Heathcock and to her grace, and not less agreeable, at this
+instant, to Lady Langdale, who, the moment she was disembarrassed
+of the duchess, pressed through the crowd to Lady Clonbrony, and
+addressing her with smiles and complacency, was charmed to have a
+little moment to speak to her--could _not_ sooner get through the
+crowd--would certainly do herself the honour to be at her ladyship's
+gala. While Lady Langdale spoke, she never seemed to see or think of
+any body but Lady Clonbrony, though, all the time, she was intent upon
+every motion of Lord Colambre; and whilst she was obliged to listen
+with a face of sympathy to a long complaint of Lady Clonbrony's,
+about Mr. Soho's want of taste in ottomans, she was vexed to perceive
+that his lordship showed no desire to be introduced to her or to
+her daughters; but, on the contrary, was standing talking to Miss
+Nugent. His mother, at the end of her speech, looked round for
+"Colambre"--called him twice before he heard--introduced him to Lady
+Langdale, and to Lady Cat'rine, and Lady Anne ----, and to Mrs.
+Dareville; to all of whom he bowed with an air of proud coldness,
+which gave them reason to regret that their remarks upon his mother
+and his family had not been made _sotto voce_.
+
+"Lady Langdale's carriage stops the way!" Lord Colambre made no offer
+of his services, notwithstanding a look from his mother. Incapable of
+the meanness of voluntarily listening to a conversation not intended
+for him to hear, he had, however, been compelled, by the pressure
+of the crowd, to remain a few minutes stationary, where he could not
+avoid hearing the remarks of the fashionable friends: disdaining
+dissimulation, he made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. Perhaps
+his vexation was increased by his consciousness that there was some
+mixture of truth in their sarcasms. He was sensible that his mother,
+in some points--her manners, for instance--was obvious to ridicule and
+satire. In Lady Clonbrony's address there was a mixture of constraint,
+affectation, and indecision, unusual in a person of her birth, rank,
+and knowledge of the world. A natural and unnatural manner seemed
+struggling in all her gestures, and in every syllable that she
+articulated--a naturally free, familiar, good-natured, precipitate,
+Irish manner, had been schooled, and schooled late in life, into a
+sober, cold, still, stiff deportment, which she mistook for English.
+A strong Hibernian accent she had, with infinite difficulty, changed
+into an English tone. Mistaking reverse of wrong for right, she
+caricatured the English pronunciation; and the extraordinary precision
+of her London phraseology betrayed her not to be a Londoner, as the
+man who strove to pass for an Athenian was detected by his Attic
+dialect. Not aware of her real danger, Lady Clonbrony was, on the
+opposite side, in continual apprehension every time she opened her
+lips, lest some treacherous _a_ or _e_, some strong _r_, some puzzling
+aspirate or non-aspirate, some unguarded note, interrogative, or
+expostulatory, should betray her to be an Irishwoman. Mrs. Dareville
+had, in her mimicry, perhaps, a little exaggerated, as to the
+_teebles_ and _cheers_, but still the general likeness of the
+representation of Lady Clonbrony was strong enough to strike and vex
+her son. He had now, for the first time, an opportunity of judging of
+the estimation in which his mother and his family were held by certain
+leaders of the ton, of whom, in her letters, she had spoken so much,
+and into whose society, or rather into whose parties, she had been
+admitted. He saw that the renegado cowardice with which she denied,
+abjured, and reviled her own country, gained nothing but ridicule and
+contempt. He loved his mother; and, whilst he endeavoured to conceal
+her faults and foibles as much as possible from his own heart, he
+could not endure those who dragged them to light and ridicule. The
+next morning, the first thing that occurred to Lord Colambre's
+remembrance, when he awoke, was the sound of the contemptuous emphasis
+which had been laid on the words IRISH ABSENTEES!--This led to
+recollections of his native country, to comparisons of past and
+present scenes, to future plans of life. Young and careless as he
+seemed, Lord Colambre was capable of serious reflection. Of naturally
+quick and strong capacity, ardent affections, impetuous temper, the
+early years of his childhood passed at his father's castle in Ireland,
+where, from the lowest servant to the well-dressed dependent of the
+family, every body had conspired to wait upon, to fondle, to flatter,
+to worship, this darling of their lord. Yet he was not spoiled--not
+rendered selfish; for in the midst of this flattery and servility,
+some strokes of genuine generous affection had gone home to his little
+heart: and though unqualified submission had increased the natural
+impetuosity of his temper, and though visions of his future grandeur
+had touched his infant thought, yet, fortunately, before he acquired
+any fixed habits of insolence or tyranny, he was carried far away
+from all that were bound or willing to submit to his commands, far
+away from all signs of hereditary grandeur--plunged into one of our
+great public schools--into a new world. Forced to struggle, mind and
+body, with his equals, his rivals, the little lord became a spirited
+school-boy, and in time, a man. Fortunately for him, science and
+literature happened to be the fashion among a set of clever young
+men with whom he was at Cambridge. His ambition for intellectual
+superiority was raised, his views were enlarged, his tastes and
+his manners formed. The sobriety of English good sense mixed most
+advantageously with Irish vivacity: English prudence governed, but did
+not extinguish, his Irish enthusiasm. But, in fact, English and Irish
+had not been invidiously contrasted in his mind: he had been so long
+resident in England, and so intimately connected with Englishmen, that
+he was not obvious to any of the commonplace ridicule thrown upon
+Hibernians; and he had lived with men who were too well informed and
+liberal to misjudge or depreciate a sister country. He had found, from
+experience, that, however reserved the English may be in manner, they
+are warm at heart; that, however averse they may be from forming new
+acquaintance, their esteem and confidence once gained, they make the
+most solid friends. He had formed friendships in England; he was fully
+sensible of the superior comforts, refinement, and information, of
+English society; but his own country was endeared to him by early
+association, and a sense of duty and patriotism attached him to
+Ireland.--"And shall I too be an absentee?" was a question which
+resulted from these reflections--a question which he was not yet
+prepared to answer decidedly.
+
+In the mean time, the first business of the morning was to execute
+a commission for a Cambridge friend. Mr. Berryl had bought from Mr.
+Mordicai, a famous London coachmaker, a curricle, _warranted sound_,
+for which he had paid a sound price, upon express condition that Mr.
+Mordicai should be answerable for all repairs of the curricle for six
+months. In three, both the carriage and body were found to be good for
+nothing--the curricle had been returned to Mordicai--nothing had since
+been heard of it, or from him; and Lord Colambre had undertaken to pay
+him and it a visit, and to make all proper inquiries. Accordingly,
+he went to the coachmaker's; and, obtaining no satisfaction from the
+underlings, desired to see the head of the house. He was answered
+that Mr. Mordicai was not at home. His lordship had never seen Mr.
+Mordicai; but just then he saw, walking across the yard, a man who
+looked something like a Bond-street coxcomb, but not the least like a
+gentleman, who called, in the tone of a master, for "Mr. Mordicai's
+barouche!"--It appeared; and he was stepping into it, when Lord
+Colambre took the liberty of stopping him; and, pointing to the wreck
+of Mr. Berryl's curricle, now standing in the yard, began a statement
+of his friend's grievances, and an appeal to common justice and
+conscience, which he, unknowing the nature of the man with whom he had
+to deal, imagined must be irresistible. Mr. Mordicai stood without
+moving a muscle of his dark wooden face--indeed, in his face there
+appeared to be no muscles, or none which could move; so that, though
+he had what are generally called handsome features, there was,
+altogether, something unnatural and shocking in his countenance. When,
+at last, his eyes turned and his lips opened, this seemed to be done
+by machinery, and not by the will of a living creature, or from the
+impulse of a rational soul. Lord Colambre was so much struck with
+this strange physiognomy, that he actually forgot much he had to say
+of springs and wheels--But it was no matter--Whatever he had said, it
+would have come to the same thing; and Mordicai would have answered
+as he now did; "Sir, it was my partner made that bargain, not myself;
+and I don't hold myself bound by it, for he is the sleeping partner
+only, and not empowered to act in the way of business. Had Mr. Berryl
+bargained with me, I should have told him that he should have looked
+to these things before his carriage went out of our yard."
+
+The indignation of Lord Colambre kindled at these words--but in vain:
+to all that indignation could by word or look urge against Mordicai,
+he replied, "May be so, sir: the law is open to your friend--the law
+is open to all men, who can pay for it."
+
+Lord Colambre turned in despair from the callous coachmaker, and
+listened to one of his more compassionate-looking workmen, who was
+reviewing the disabled curricle; and, whilst he was waiting to know
+the sum of his friend's misfortune, a fat, jolly, Falstaff-looking
+personage came into the yard, and accosted Mordicai with a degree of
+familiarity which, from a gentleman, appeared to Lord Colambre to be
+almost impossible.
+
+"How are you, Mordicai, my good fellow?" cried he, speaking with a
+strong Irish accent.
+
+"Who is this?" whispered Lord Colambre to the foreman, who was
+examining the curricle.
+
+"Sir Terence O'Fay, sir--There must be entire new wheels."
+
+"Now tell me, my tight fellow," continued Sir Terence, holding
+Mordicai fast, "when, in the name of all the saints, good or bad, in
+the calendar, do you reckon to let us sport the _suicide_?"
+
+"Will you be so good, sir, to finish making out this estimate for me?"
+interrupted Lord Colambre.
+
+Mordicai forcibly drew his mouth into what he meant for a smile, and
+answered, "As soon as possible, Sir Terence." Sir Terence, in a tone
+of jocose, wheedling expostulation, entreated him to have the carriage
+finished _out of hand_: "Ah, now! Mordy, my precious! let us have it
+by the birthday, and come and dine with us o' Monday at the Hibernian
+Hotel--there's a rare one--will you?"
+
+Mordicai accepted the invitation, and promised faithfully that the
+_suicide_ should be finished by the birthday. Sir Terence shook hands
+upon this promise, and, after telling a good story, which made one of
+the workmen in the yard--an Irishman--grin with delight, walked off.
+Mordicai, first waiting till the knight was out of hearing, called
+aloud, "You grinning rascal! mind, at your peril, and don't let that
+there carriage be touched, d'ye see, till farther orders."
+
+One of Mr. Mordicai's clerks, with a huge long feathered pen behind
+his ear, observed that Mr. Mordicai was right in that caution, for
+that, to the best of his comprehension, Sir Terence O'Fay, and his
+principal too, were over head and ears in debt.
+
+Mordicai coolly answered, that he was well aware of that, but that the
+estate could afford to dip farther; that, for his part, he was under
+no apprehension; he knew how to look sharp, and to bite before he was
+bit: that he knew Sir Terence and his principal were leagued together
+to give the creditors _the go by_; but that, clever as they were both
+at that work, he trusted he was their match.
+
+"Immediately, sir--Sixty-nine pound four, and the perch--Let us
+see--Mr. Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy, about Sir Terence," said the
+foreman, pointing back over his shoulder to the Irish workman, who
+was at this moment pretending to be wondrous hard at work. However,
+when Mr. Mordicai defied him to tell him any thing he did not know,
+Paddy, parting with an untasted bit of tobacco, began and recounted
+some of Sir Terence O'Fay's exploits in evading duns, replevying
+cattle, fighting sheriffs, bribing _subs_, managing cants, tricking
+_custodees_, in language so strange, and with a countenance and
+gestures so full of enjoyment of the jest, that, whilst Mordicai
+stood for a moment aghast with astonishment, Lord Colambre could
+not help laughing, partly at, and partly with, his countryman. All
+the yard were in a roar of laughter, though they did not understand
+half of what they heard; but their risible muscles were acted upon
+mechanically, or maliciously, merely by the sound of the Irish brogue.
+
+Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed, that "the
+law is executed in another guess sort of way in England from what it
+is in Ireland;" therefore, for his part, he desired nothing better
+than to set his wits fairly against such _sharks_--that there was a
+pleasure in doing up a debtor, which none but a creditor could know.
+
+"In a moment, sir; if you'll have a moment's patience, sir, if you
+please," said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre; "I must go down the
+pounds once more, and then I'll let you have it."
+
+"I'll tell you what, Smithfield," continued Mr. Mordicai, coming close
+beside his foreman, and speaking very low, but with a voice trembling
+with anger, for he was piqued by his foreman's doubts of his capacity
+to cope with Sir Terence O'Fay; "I'll tell you what, Smithfield, I'll
+be cursed if I don't get every inch of them into my power--you know
+how."
+
+"You are the best judge, sir," replied the foreman; "but I would not
+undertake Sir Terence; and the question is, whether the estate will
+answer the _tote_ of the debts, and whether you know them all for
+certain--"
+
+"I do, sir, I tell you: there's Green--there's Blancham--there's
+Gray--there's Soho"--naming several more--"and, to my knowledge, Lord
+Clonbrony--"
+
+"Stop, sir," cried Lord Colambre, in a voice which made Mordicai and
+every body present start;--"I am his son--"
+
+"The devil!" said Mordicai.
+
+"God bless every bone in his body, then, he's an Irishman!" cried
+Paddy; "and there was the _ra_son my heart warmed to him from the
+first minute he come into the yard, though I did not know it till
+now."
+
+"What, sir! are you my Lord Colambre?" said Mr. Mordicai, recovering,
+but not clearly recovering, his intellects: "I beg pardon, but I did
+not know you _was_ Lord Colambre--I thought you told me you was the
+friend of Mr. Berryl."
+
+"I do not see the incompatibility of the assertion, sir," replied Lord
+Colambre, taking from the bewildered foreman's unresisting hand the
+account which he had been so long _furnishing_.
+
+"Give me leave, my lord," said Mordicai--"I beg your pardon, my lord;
+perhaps we can compromise that business for your friend Mr. Berryl;
+since he is your lordship's friend, perhaps we can contrive to
+_compromise_ and _split the difference_."
+
+_To compromise_, and _split the difference_, Mordicai thought were
+favourite phrases, and approved Hibernian modes of doing business,
+which would conciliate this young Irish nobleman, and dissipate the
+proud tempest, which had gathered, and now swelled in his breast.
+
+"No, sir, no!" cried Lord Colambre, holding firm the paper: "I want no
+favour from you. I will accept of none for my friend or for myself."
+
+"Favour! No, my lord, I should not presume to offer--But I should
+wish, if you'll allow me, to do your friend justice."
+
+Lord Colambre, recollecting that he had no right, in his pride, to
+fling away his friend's money, let Mr. Mordicai look at the account;
+and his impetuous temper in a few moments recovered by good sense, he
+considered, that, as his person was utterly unknown to Mr. Mordicai,
+no offence could have been intended to him, and that, perhaps, in what
+had been said of his father's debts and distress, there might be more
+truth than he was aware of. Prudently, therefore, controlling his
+feelings, and commanding himself, he suffered Mr. Mordicai to show him
+into a parlour to _settle_ his friend's business. In a few minutes the
+account was reduced to a reasonable form, and, in consideration of the
+partner's having made the bargain, by which Mr. Mordicai felt himself
+influenced in honour, though not bound in law, he undertook to have
+the curricle made better than new again, for Mr. Berryl, for twenty
+guineas. Then came awkward apologies to Lord Colambre, which he ill
+endured. "Between ourselves, my lord," continued Mordicai--
+
+But the familiarity of the phrase. "Between ourselves"--this
+implication of equality--Lord Colambre could not admit: he moved
+hastily towards the door, and departed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Full of what he had heard, and impatient to obtain farther information
+respecting the state of his father's affairs, Lord Colambre hastened
+home; but his father was out, and his mother was engaged with Mr.
+Soho, directing, or rather being directed, how her apartments should
+be fitted up for her gala. As Lord Colambre entered the room, he saw
+his mother, Miss Nugent, and Mr. Soho, standing at a large table,
+which was covered with rolls of paper, patterns, and drawings of
+furniture: Mr. Soho was speaking in a conceited, dictatorial tone,
+asserting that there was no "colour in nature for that room equal to
+_the belly-o'-the fawn_;" which _belly-o'-the fawn_ he so pronounced,
+that Lady Clonbrony understood it to be _la belle uniforme_, and,
+under this mistake, repeated and assented to the assertion, till it
+was set to rights, with condescending superiority, by the upholsterer.
+This first architectural upholsterer of the age, as he styled himself,
+and was universally admitted to be by all the world of fashion, then,
+with full powers given to him, spoke _en maitre_. The whole face of
+things must be changed. There must be new hangings, new draperies, new
+cornices, new candelabras, new every thing!--
+
+  "The upholsterer's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
+  Glances from ceiling to floor, from floor to ceiling;
+  And, as imagination bodies forth
+  The form of things unknown, the upholsterer's pencil
+  Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
+  A local habitation and a NAME."
+
+Of the value of a NAME no one could be more sensible than Mr. Soho.
+
+"Your la'ship sees--this is merely a scratch of my pencil. Your
+la'ship's sensible--just to give you an idea of the shape, the form
+of the thing. You fill up your angles here with _encoinieres_--round
+your walls with the _Turkish tent drapery_--a fancy of my own--in
+apricot cloth, or crimson velvet, suppose, or, _en flute_, in
+crimson satin draperies, fanned and riched with gold fringes, _en
+suite_--intermediate spaces, Apollo's head with gold rays--and here,
+ma'am, you place four _chancelieres_, with chimeras at the corners,
+covered with blue silk and silver fringe, elegantly fanciful--with
+my STATIRA CANOPY here--light blue silk draperies--aerial tint, with
+silver balls--and for seats here, the SERAGLIO OTTOMANS, superfine
+scarlet--your paws--griffin--golden--and golden tripods, here, with
+antique cranes--and oriental alabaster tables here and there--quite
+appropriate, your la'ship feels.
+
+"And let me reflect. For the next apartment, it strikes me--as your
+la'ship don't value expense--the _Alhambra hangings_--my own thought
+entirely--Now, before I unrol them, Lady Clonbrony, I must beg you'll
+not mention I've shown them. I give you my sacred honour, not a
+soul has set eye upon the Alhambra hangings except Mrs. Dareville,
+who stole a peep; I refused, absolutely refused, the Duchess of
+Torcaster--but I can't refuse your la'ship--So see, ma'am--
+(unrolling them)--scagliola porphyry columns supporting the grand
+dome--entablature, silvered and decorated with imitative bronze
+ornaments: under the entablature, a _valence in pelmets_, of puffed
+scarlet silk, would have an unparalleled grand effect, seen through
+the arches--with the TREBISOND TRELLICE PAPER, Would make a _tout
+ensemble_, novel beyond example. On that trebisond trellice paper, I
+confess, ladies, I do pique myself.
+
+"Then, for the little room, I recommend turning it temporarily into a
+Chinese pagoda, with this _Chinese pagoda paper_, with the _porcelain
+border_, and josses, and jars, and beakers, to match; and I can
+venture to promise one vase of pre-eminent size and beauty.--Oh,
+indubitably! if your la'ship prefers it, you can have the _Egyptian
+hieroglyphic paper_, with the _ibis border_ to match!--The only
+objection is, one sees it every where--quite antediluvian--gone to
+the hotels even; but, to be sure, if your la'ship has a fancy--at
+all events, I humbly recommend, what her grace of Torcaster longs to
+patronise, my MOON CURTAINS, with candlelight draperies. A demi-saison
+elegance this--I hit off yesterday--and--True, your la'ship's quite
+correct--out of the common completely. And, of course, you'd have
+the _sphynx candelabras_, and the phoenix argands--Oh! nothing else
+lights now, ma'am!--Expense!--Expense of the whole!--Impossible to
+calculate here on the spot!--but nothing at all worth your ladyship's
+consideration!"
+
+At another moment, Lord Colambre might have been amused with all this
+rhodomontade, and with the airs and voluble conceit of the orator;
+but, after what he had heard at Mr. Mordicai's, this whole scene
+struck him more with melancholy than with mirth. He was alarmed by the
+prospect of new and unbounded expense; provoked, almost past enduring,
+by the jargon and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and
+vexed to the heart, to see his mother the dupe, the sport of such a
+coxcomb.
+
+"Prince of puppies!--Insufferable!--My own mother!" Lord Colambre
+repeated to himself, as he walked hastily up and down the room.
+
+"Colambre, won't you let us have your judgment--your _teeste_?" said
+his mother.
+
+"Excuse me, ma'am--I have no taste, no judgment in these things."
+
+He sometimes paused, and looked at Mr. Soho, with a strong inclination
+to--. But knowing that he should say too much if he said any thing, he
+was silent; never dared to approach the council table--but continued
+walking up and down the room, till he heard a voice which at once
+arrested his attention and soothed his ire. He approached the table
+instantly, and listened, whilst Miss Nugent said every thing he wished
+to have said, and with all the propriety and delicacy with which he
+thought he could not have spoken. He leaned on the table, and fixed
+his eyes upon her--years ago he had seen his cousin--last night he had
+thought her handsome, pleasing, graceful--but now he saw a new person,
+or he saw her in a new light. He marked the superior intelligence,
+the animation, the eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst
+alternately, with arch raillery, or grave humour, she played off Mr.
+Soho, and made him magnify the ridicule, till it was apparent even
+to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the anxiety lest his mother should
+expose her own foibles; he was touched by the respectful, earnest
+kindness--the soft tones of persuasion with which she addressed
+her--the care not to presume upon her own influence--the good sense,
+the taste, she showed, yet not displaying her superiority--the
+address, temper, and patience, with which she at last accomplished
+her purpose, and prevented Lady Clonbrony from doing any thing
+preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.
+
+Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was ended--when Mr.
+Soho departed--for Miss Nugent was then silent; and it was necessary
+to remove his eyes from that countenance on which he had gazed
+unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her
+charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her without her
+perceiving it--she seemed so intent upon others as totally to forget
+herself. The whole train of Lord Colambre's thoughts was so completely
+deranged, that, although he was sensible there was something of
+importance he had to say to his mother, yet when Mr. Soho's departure
+left him opportunity to speak, he stood silent, unable to recollect
+any thing but--Grace Nugent.
+
+When Miss Nugent left the room, after some minutes' silence, and some
+effort, Lord Colambre said to his mother, "Pray, madam, do you know
+any thing of Sir Terence O'Fay?"
+
+"I!" said Lady Clonbrony, drawing up her head proudly; "I know he is a
+person I cannot endure. He is no friend of mine, I can assure you--nor
+any such sort of person."
+
+"I thought it was impossible!" cried Lord Colambre, with exultation.
+
+"I only wish your father, Colambre, could say as much," added Lady
+Clonbrony.
+
+Lord Colambre's countenance fell again; and again he was silent for
+some time.
+
+"Does my father dine at home, ma'am?"
+
+"I suppose not; he seldom dines at home."
+
+"Perhaps, ma'am, my father may have some cause to be uneasy about--"
+
+"About?" said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone, and with a look of curiosity,
+which convinced her son that she knew nothing of his debts or
+distresses, if he had any. "About what?" repeated her ladyship.
+
+Here was no receding, and Lord Colambre never had recourse to
+artifice.
+
+"About his affairs, I was going to say, madam. But, since you know
+nothing of any difficulties or embarrassments, I am persuaded that
+none exist."
+
+"Nay, I _cawnt_ tell you that, Colambre. There are difficulties for
+ready money, I confess, when I ask for it, which surprise me often. I
+know nothing of affairs--ladies of a certain rank seldom do, you know.
+But, considering your father's estate, and the fortune I brought him,"
+added her ladyship, proudly, "I _cawnt_ conceive it at all. Grace
+Nugent, indeed, often talks to me of embarrassments and economy; but
+that, poor thing! is very natural for her, because her fortune is not
+particularly large, and she has left it all, or almost all, in her
+uncle and guardian's hands. I know she's often distressed for odd
+money to lend me, and that makes her anxious."
+
+"Is not Miss Nugent very much admired, ma'am, in London?"
+
+"Of course--in the company she is in, you know, she has every
+advantage. And she has a natural family air of fashion--Not but what
+she would have _got on_ much better, if, when she first appeared
+in Lon'on, she had taken my advice, and wrote herself on her cards
+Miss de Nogent, which would have taken off the prejudice against the
+_Iricism_ of Nugent, you know; and there is a Count de Nogent."
+
+"I did not know there was any such prejudice, ma'am. There may be
+among a certain set; but, I should think, not among well-informed,
+well-bred people."
+
+"I _big_ your _pawdon_, Colambre; surely I, that was born in England,
+an Henglishwoman _bawn_, must be well _infawmed_ on this _pint_, any
+way."
+
+Lord Colambre was respectfully silent.
+
+"Mother," resumed he, "I wonder that Miss Nugent is not married."
+
+"That is her own fau't entirely; she has refused very good
+offers--establishments that I own I think, as Lady Langdale says,
+I was to blame to allow her to let pass: but young _ledies_, till
+they are twenty, always think they can do better. Mr. Martingale,
+of Martingale, proposed for her, but she objected to him on account
+of _he'es_ being on the turf; and Mr. St. Albans' 7000_l._ a-year,
+because--I _reelly_ forget what--I believe only because she did
+not like him--and something about principles. Now there is Colonel
+Heathcock, one of the most fashionable young men you see, always with
+the Duchess of Torcaster and that set--Heathcock takes a vast deal of
+notice of her, for him; and yet, I'm persuaded, she would not have him
+to-morrow if he came to the _pint_, and for no reason, _reelly_ now,
+that she can give me, but because she says he's a coxcomb. Grace has
+a tincture of Irish pride. But, for my part, I rejoice that she is so
+difficult; for I don't know what I should do without her."
+
+"Miss Nugent is indeed--very much attached to you, mother, I am
+convinced," said Lord Colambre, beginning his sentence with great
+enthusiasm, and ending it with great sobriety.
+
+"Indeed, then, she's a sweet girl, and I am very partial to her,
+there's the truth," cried Lady Clonbrony, in an undisguised Irish
+accent, and with her natural warm manner. But, a moment afterwards,
+her features and whole form resumed their constrained stillness and
+stiffness, and in her English accent she continued, "Before you put my
+_idears_ out of my head, Colambre, I had something to say to you--Oh!
+I know what it was--we were talking of embarrassments--and I wish
+to do your father the justice to mention to you, that he has been
+_uncommon liberal_ to me about this gala, and has _reelly_ given me
+carte blanche; and I've a notion--indeed I know,--that it is you,
+Colambre, I am to thank for this."
+
+"Me, ma'am!"
+
+"Yes: did not your father give you any hint?"
+
+"No, ma'am; I have seen my father but for half an hour since I came to
+town, and in that time he said nothing to me--of his affairs."
+
+"But what I allude to is more your affair."
+
+"He did not speak to me of any affairs, ma'am--he spoke only of my
+horses."
+
+"Then I suppose my lord leaves it to me to open the matter to you. I
+have the pleasure to tell you, that we have in view for you--and, I
+think I may say, with more than the approbation of all her family--an
+alliance--"
+
+"Oh, my dear mother! you cannot be serious," cried Lord Colambre;
+"you know I am not of years of discretion yet--I shall not think of
+marrying these ten years, at least."
+
+"Why not? Nay, my dear Colambre, don't go, I beg--I am serious, I
+assure you--and, to convince you of it, I shall tell you candidly, at
+once, all your father told me: that now you've done with Cambridge,
+and are come to Lon'on, he agrees with me in wishing that you should
+make the figure you ought to make, Colambre, as sole heir apparent to
+the Clonbrony estate, and all that sort of thing; but, on the other
+hand, living in Lon'on, and making you the handsome allowance you
+ought to have, are, both together, more than your father can afford,
+without inconvenience, he tells me."
+
+"I assure you, mother, I shall be content--"
+
+"No, no; you must not be content, child, and you must hear me: you
+must live in a becoming style, and make a proper appearance. I
+could not present you to my friends here, nor be happy, if you did
+not, Colambre. Now the way is clear before you: you have birth and
+title, here is fortune ready made--you will have a noble estate of
+your own when old Quin dies, and you will not be any encumbrance
+or inconvenience to your father or any body. Marrying an heiress
+accomplishes all this at once--and the young lady is every thing we
+could wish besides--you will meet again at the gala. Indeed, between
+ourselves, she is the grand object of the gala--all her friends will
+come _en masse_, and one should wish that they should see things in
+proper style. You have seen the young lady in question, Colambre--Miss
+Broadhurst--Don't you recollect the young lady I introduced you to
+last night after the opera?"
+
+"The little plain girl, covered with diamonds, who was standing beside
+Miss Nugent?"
+
+"In di'monds, yes--But you won't think her plain when you see more of
+her--that wears off--I thought her plain, at first--I hope--"
+
+"I hope," said Lord Colambre, "that you will not take it unkindly of
+me, my dear mother, if I tell you, at once, that I have no thoughts of
+marrying at present--and that I never will marry for money: marrying
+an heiress is not even a new way of paying old debts--at all events,
+it is one to which no distress could persuade me to have recourse; and
+as I must, if I outlive old Mr. Quin, have an independent fortune,
+_there is no_ occasion to purchase one by marriage."
+
+"There is no distress that I know of in the case," cried Lady
+Clonbrony. "Where is your imagination running, Colambre? But merely
+for your establishment, your independence."
+
+"Establishment, I want none--independence I do desire, and will
+preserve. Assure my father, my _dear mother_, that I will not be
+an expense to him--I will live within the allowance he made me at
+Cambridge--I will give up half of it--I will do any thing for his
+convenience--but marry for money, that I cannot do."
+
+"Then, Colambre, you are very disobliging," said Lady Clonbrony, with
+an expression of disappointment and displeasure; "for your father says
+if you don't marry Miss Broadhurst, we can't live in Lon'on another
+winter."
+
+This said--which had she been at the moment mistress of herself, she
+would not have betrayed--Lady Clonbrony abruptly quitted the room.
+Her son stood motionless, saying to himself, "Is this my mother?--How
+altered!"
+
+The next morning he seized an opportunity of speaking to his father,
+whom he caught with difficulty just when he was going out, as usual,
+for the day. Lord Colambre, with all the respect due to his father,
+and with that affectionate manner by which he always knew how
+to soften the strength of his expressions, made nearly the same
+declarations of his resolution, by which his mother had been so much
+surprised and offended. Lord Clonbrony seemed more embarrassed, but
+not so much displeased. When Lord Colambre adverted, as delicately
+as he could, to the selfishness of desiring from him the sacrifice
+of liberty for life, to say nothing of his affections, merely to
+enable his family to make a splendid figure in London, Lord Clonbrony
+exclaimed, "That's all nonsense!--cursed nonsense! That's the way we
+are obliged to state the thing to your mother, my dear boy, because I
+might talk her deaf before she would understand or listen to any thing
+else; but, for my own share, I don't care a rush if London was sunk in
+the salt sea. Little Dublin for my money, as Sir Terence O'Fay says."
+
+"Who is Sir Terence O'Fay, may I ask, sir?"
+
+"Why, don't you know Terry?--Ay, you've been so long at Cambridge--I
+forgot. And did you never see Terry?"
+
+"I have seen him, sir.--I met him yesterday at Mr. Mordicai's, the
+coachmaker's."
+
+"Mordicai's!" exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden blush, which he
+endeavoured to hide, by taking snuff. "He is a damned rascal, that
+Mordicai! I hope you didn't believe a word he said--nobody does that
+knows him."
+
+"I am glad, sir, that you seem to know him so well, and to be upon
+your guard against him," replied Lord Colambre; "for, from what I
+heard of his conversation, when he was not aware who I was, I am
+convinced he would do you any injury in his power."
+
+"He shall never have me in his power, I promise him. We shall take
+care of that--But what did he say?"
+
+Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai had said, and
+Lord Clonbrony reiterated, "Damned rascal!--damned rascal!--I'll get
+out of his hands--I'll have no more to do with him." But, as he spoke,
+he exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness, moving continually, and
+shifting from leg to leg, like a foundered horse.
+
+He could not bring himself positively to deny that he had debts and
+difficulties; but he would by no means open the state of his affairs
+to his son: "No father is called upon to do that," said he to himself;
+"none but a fool would do it."
+
+Lord Colambre, perceiving his father's embarrassment, withdrew his
+eyes, respectfully refrained from all further inquiries, and simply
+repeated the assurance he had made to his mother, that he would put
+his family to no additional expense; and that, if it was necessary, he
+would willingly give up half his allowance.
+
+"Not at all, not at all, my dear boy," said his father: "I would
+rather cramp myself than that you should be cramped, a thousand times
+over. But it is all my Lady Clonbrony's nonsense. If people would but,
+as they ought, stay in their own country, live on their own estates,
+and kill their own mutton, money need never be wanting."
+
+For killing their own mutton, Lord Colambre did not see the
+indispensable necessity; but he rejoiced to hear his father assert
+that people should reside in their own country.
+
+"Ay," cried Lord Clonbrony, to strengthen his assertion, as he
+always thought it necessary to do, by quoting some other person's
+opinion--"so Sir Terence O'Fay always says, and that's the reason your
+mother can't endure poor Terry--You don't know Terry? No, you have
+only seen him; but, indeed, to see him is to know him; for he is the
+most off-hand, good fellow in Europe."
+
+"I don't pretend to know him yet," said Lord Colambre. "I am not so
+presumptuous as to form my opinion at first sight."
+
+"Oh, curse your modesty!" interrupted Lord Clonbrony; "you mean, you
+don't pretend to like him yet; but Terry will make you like him. I
+defy you not--I'll introduce you to him--him to you, I mean--most
+warm-hearted, generous dog upon earth--convivial--jovial--with wit and
+humour enough, in his own way, to split you--split me if he has not.
+You need not cast down your eyes, Colambre. What's your objection?"
+
+"I have made none, sir--but, if you urge me, I can only say, that, if
+he has all these good qualities, it is to be regretted that he does
+not look and speak a little more like a gentleman."
+
+"A gentleman!--he is as much a gentleman as any of your formal
+prigs--not the exact Cambridge cut, may be--Curse your English
+education! 'twas none of my advice--I suppose you mean to take after
+your mother in the notion, that nothing can be good or genteel but
+what's English."
+
+"Far from it, sir; I assure you I am as warm a friend to Ireland as
+your heart could wish. You will have no reason, in that respect, at
+least, nor, I hope, in any other, to curse my English education--and,
+if my gratitude and affection can avail, you shall never regret the
+kindness and liberality with which you have, I fear, distressed
+yourself to afford me the means of becoming all that a British
+nobleman ought to be."
+
+"Gad! you distress me now," said Lord Clonbrony, "and I didn't expect
+it, or I wouldn't make a fool of myself this way," added he, ashamed
+of his emotion, and whiffling it off. "You have an Irish heart, that I
+see, which no education can spoil. But you must like Terry--I'll
+give you time, as he said to me, when first he taught me to like
+usquebaugh--Good morning to you."
+
+Whilst Lady Clonbrony, in consequence of her residence in London, had
+become more of a fine lady, Lord Clonbrony, since he left Ireland,
+had become less of a gentleman. Lady Clonbrony, born an Englishwoman,
+disclaiming and disencumbering herself of all the Irish in town, had,
+by giving splendid entertainments, at an enormous expense, made her
+way into a certain set of fashionable company. But Lord Clonbrony,
+who was somebody in Ireland, who was a great person in Dublin, found
+himself nobody in England, a mere cipher in London. Looked down upon
+by the fine people with whom his lady associated, and heartily weary
+of them, he retreated from them altogether, and sought entertainment
+and self-complacency in society beneath him, indeed, both in rank and
+education, but in which he had the satisfaction of feeling himself
+the first person in company. Of these associates, the first in
+talents, and in jovial profligacy, was Sir Terence O'Fay--a man of
+low extraction, who had been knighted by an Irish lord-lieutenant
+in some convivial frolic. No one could tell a good story, or sing a
+good song, better than Sir Terence; he exaggerated his native brogue,
+and his natural propensity to blunder, caring little whether the
+company laughed at him or with him, provided they laughed--"Live
+and laugh--laugh and live," was his motto; and certainly he lived
+on laughing, as well as many better men can contrive to live on a
+thousand a-year.
+
+Lord Clonbrony brought Sir Terence home with him next day, to
+introduce him to Lord Colambre; and it happened that, on this
+occasion, Terence appeared to peculiar disadvantage, because, like
+many other people, "Il gatoit l'esprit qu'il avoit, en voulant avoir
+celui qu'il n'avoit pas."
+
+Having been apprised that Lord Colambre was a fine scholar, fresh from
+Cambridge, and being conscious of his own deficiencies of literature,
+instead of trusting to his natural talents, he summoned to his aid,
+with no small effort, all the scraps of learning he had acquired in
+early days, and even brought before the company all the gods and
+goddesses with whom he had formed an acquaintance at school. Though
+embarrassed by this unusual encumbrance of learning, he endeavoured
+to make all subservient to his immediate design, of paying his court
+to Lady Clonbrony, by forwarding the object she had most anxiously in
+view--the match between her son and Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"And so, Miss Nugent," said he, not daring, with all his assurance, to
+address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony, "and so, Miss Nugent, you
+are going to have great doings, I'm told, and a wonderful grand gala.
+There's nothing in the wide world equal to being in a good handsome
+crowd. No later now than the last ball at the Castle, that was before
+I left Dublin, Miss Nugent, the apartments, owing to the popularity
+of my lady lieutenant, was so throng--so throng--that I remember
+very well, in the doorway, a lady--and a very genteel woman she was,
+too--though a stranger to me, saying to me, 'Sir, your finger's in my
+ear.'--'I know it, madam," says I; 'but I can't take it out till the
+crowd give me elbow-room.'
+
+"But it's the gala I'm thinking of now--I hear you are to have the
+golden Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won't you?"
+
+"Sir!"
+
+This freezing monosyllable notwithstanding, Sir Terence pursued his
+course fluently. "The golden Venus!--sure, Miss Nugent, you that are
+so quick, can't but know I would apostrophize Miss Broadhurst that
+is--but that won't be long so, I hope. My Lord Colambre, have you seen
+much yet of that young lady?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then I hope you won't be long so. I hear great talk now of the Venus
+of Medici, and the Venus of this and that, with the Florence Venus,
+and the sable Venus, and that other Venus, that's washing of her hair,
+and a hundred other Venuses, some good, some bad. But, be that as it
+will, my lord, trust a fool--ye may, when he tells you truth--the
+golden Venus is the only one on earth that can stand, or that will
+stand, through all ages and temperatures; for gold rules the court,
+gold rules the camp, and men below, and heaven above."
+
+"Heaven above!--Take care, Terry! Do you know what you are saying?"
+interrupted Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Do I?--Don't I?" replied Terry. "Deny, if you please, my lord, that
+it was for a golden pippin that the three goddesses _fit_--and that
+the _Hippomenes_ was about golden apples--and did not Hercules rob a
+garden for golden apples?--and did not the pious AEneas himself take a
+golden branch with him to make himself welcome to his father in hell?"
+said Sir Terence, winking at Lord Colambre.
+
+"Why, Terry, you know more about books than I should have suspected,"
+said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Nor you would not have suspected me to have such a great acquaintance
+among the goddesses neither, would you, my lord? But, apropos, before
+we quit, of what material, think ye, was that same Venus's famous
+girdle, now, that made roses and lilies so quickly appear? Why, what
+was it but a girdle of sterling gold, I'll engage?--for gold is the
+only true thing for a young man to look after in a wife."
+
+Sir Terence paused, but no applause ensued.
+
+"Let them talk of Cupids and darts, and the mother of the Loves and
+Graces--Minerva may sing odes and _dythambrics_, or whatsoever her
+wisdomship pleases. Let her sing, or let her say, she'll never get a
+husband, in this world or the other, without she had a good thumping
+_fortin_, and then she'd go off like wildfire."
+
+"No, no, Terry, there you're out: Minerva has too bad a character for
+learning to be a favourite with gentlemen," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Tut--Don't tell me!--I'd get her off before you could say Jack
+Robinson, and thank you too, if she had 50,000_l._ down, or 1,000_l._
+a-year in land. Would you have a man so d----d nice as to balk,
+when house and land is agoing--a going--a going!--because of the
+incumbrance of a little learning? But, after all, I never heard that
+Miss Broadhurst was any thing of a learned lady."
+
+"Miss Broadhurst!" said Miss Nugent: "how did you get round to Miss
+Broadhurst?"
+
+"Oh! by the way of Tipperary," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"I beg your pardon, my lord, it was apropos to good fortune, which,
+I hope, will not be out of your way, even if you went by Tipperary.
+She has, besides 100,000_l._ in the funds, a clear landed property of
+10,000_l._ per annum. _Well! some people talk of morality, and some of
+religion, bat give me a little snug_ PROPERTY.--But, my lord, I've a
+little business to transact this morning, and must not be idling and
+indulging myself here." So, bowing to the ladies, he departed.
+
+"Really, I am glad that man is gone," said Lady Clonbrony. "What a
+relief to one's ears! I am sure I wonder, my lord, how you can bear
+to carry that strange creature always about with you--so vulgar as he
+is."
+
+"He diverts me," said Lord Clonbrony; "while many of your
+correct-mannered fine ladies or gentlemen put me to sleep. What
+signifies what accent people speak in, that have nothing to say, hey,
+Colambre?"
+
+Lord Colambre, from respect to his father, did not express his
+opinion; but his aversion to Sir Terence O'Fay was stronger even than
+his mother's, though Lady Clonbrony's detestation of him was much
+increased by perceiving that his coarse hints about Miss Broadhurst
+had operated against her favourite scheme.
+
+The next morning, at breakfast, Lord Clonbrony talked of bringing Sir
+Terence with him that night to her gala--she absolutely grew pale with
+horror.
+
+"Good Heavens!--Lady Langdale, Mrs. Dareville, Lady Pococke, Lady
+Chatterton, Lady D----, Lady G----, His Grace of V----; what would
+they think of him! And Miss Broadhurst, to see him going about with
+my Lord Clonbrony!"--It could not be. No--her ladyship made the most
+solemn and desperate protestation, that she would sooner give up her
+gala altogether--tie up the knocker--say she was sick--rather be sick,
+or be dead, than be obliged to have such a creature as Sir Terence
+O'Fay at her gala.
+
+"Have it your own way, my dear, as you have every thing else," cried
+Lord Clonbrony, taking up his hat, and preparing to decamp; "but, take
+notice, if you won't receive him, you need not expect me. So a good
+morning to you, my Lady Clonbrony. You may find a worse friend in need
+yet, than that same Sir Terence O'Fay."
+
+"I trust I shall never be in need, my lord," replied her ladyship. "It
+would be strange indeed if I were, with the fortune I brought."
+
+"Oh, that fortune of hers!" cried Lord Clonbrony, stopping both his
+ears as he ran out of his room: "shall I never hear the end of that
+fortune, when I've seen the end of it long ago?"
+
+During this matrimonial dialogue, Miss Nugent and Lord Colambre never
+once looked at each other. She was very diligently trying the changes
+that could be made in the positions of a china-mouse, a cat, a dog, a
+cup, and a brahmin, on the mantel-piece; Lord Colambre as diligently
+reading the newspaper.
+
+"Now, my dear Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "put down the paper,
+and listen to me. Let me entreat you not to neglect Miss Broadhurst
+to-night, as I know that the family come here chiefly on your
+account."
+
+"My dear mother, I never can neglect any one of your guests; but
+I shall be careful not to show any particular attention to Miss
+Broadhurst, for I never will pretend what I do not feel."
+
+"But, my dear Colambre, Miss Broadhurst is every thing you could wish,
+except being a beauty."
+
+"Perhaps, madam," said Lord Colambre, fixing his eyes on Miss Nugent,
+"you think that I can see no farther than a handsome face?"
+
+The unconscious Grace Nugent now made a warm eulogium of Miss
+Broadhurst's sense, and wit, and independence of character.
+
+"I did not know that Miss Broadhurst was a friend of yours, Miss
+Nugent?"
+
+"She is, I assure you, a friend of mine; and, as a proof, I will not
+praise her at this moment. I will go farther still--I will promise
+that I never will praise her to you till you begin to praise her to
+me."
+
+Lord Colambre smiled, and now listened as if he wished that she should
+go on speaking, even of Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"That's my sweet Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony. "Oh! she knows how to
+manage these men--not one of them can resist her!"
+
+Lord Colambre, for his part, did not deny the truth of this assertion.
+
+"Grace," added Lady Clonbrony, "make him promise to do as we would
+have him."
+
+"No--promises are dangerous things to ask or to give," said Grace.
+"Men and naughty children never make promises, especially promises to
+be good, without longing to break them the next minute."
+
+"Well, at least, child, persuade him, I charge you, to make my gala go
+off well. That's the first thing we ought to think of now. Ring the
+bell!--And all heads and hands I put in requisition for the gala."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The opening of her gala, the display of her splendid reception rooms,
+the Turkish tent, the Alhambra, the pagoda, formed a proud moment
+to Lady Clonbrony. Much did she enjoy, and much too naturally,
+notwithstanding all her efforts to be stiff and stately, much too
+naturally did she show her enjoyment of the surprise excited in some
+and affected by others on their first entrance.
+
+One young, very young lady expressed her astonishment so audibly as to
+attract the notice of all the bystanders. Lady Clonbrony, delighted,
+seized both her hands, shook them, and laughed heartily; then, as the
+young lady with her party passed on, her ladyship recovered herself,
+drew up her head, and said to the company near her, "Poor thing! I
+hope I covered her little _naivete_ properly. How NEW she must be!"
+
+Then with well practised dignity, and half subdued self-complacency
+of aspect, her ladyship went gliding about--most importantly busy,
+introducing my lady _this_ to the sphynx candelabra, and my lady
+_that_ to the Trebisond trellice; placing some delightfully for
+the perspective of the Alhambra; establishing others quite to her
+satisfaction on seraglio ottomans; and honouring others with a seat
+under the Statira canopy. Receiving and answering compliments from
+successive crowds of select friends, imagining herself the mirror
+of fashion, and the admiration of the whole world, Lady Clonbrony
+was, for her hour, as happy certainly as ever woman was in similar
+circumstances.
+
+Her son looked at her, and wished that this happiness could last.
+Naturally inclined to sympathy, Lord Colambre reproached himself for
+not feeling as gay at this instant as the occasion required. But the
+festive scene, the blazing lights, the "universal hubbub," failed to
+raise his spirits. As a dead weight upon them hung the remembrance
+of Mordicai's denunciations; and, through the midst of this eastern
+magnificence, this unbounded profusion, he thought he saw future
+domestic misery and ruin to those he loved best in the world.
+
+The only object present on which his eye rested with pleasure was
+Grace Nugent. Beautiful--in elegant and dignified simplicity--
+thoughtless of herself--yet with a look of thought, and with an air
+of melancholy, which accorded exactly with his own feelings, and
+which he believed to arise from the same reflections that had
+passed in his own mind.
+
+"Miss Broadhurst, Colambre! all the Broadhursts!" said his mother,
+wakening him as she passed by to receive them as they entered.
+Miss Broadhurst appeared, plainly dressed--plainly even to
+singularity--without any diamonds or ornament.
+
+"Brought Philippa to you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, this figure, rather
+than not bring her at all," said puffing Mrs. Broadhurst, "and had
+all the difficulty in the world to get her out at all, and now I've
+promised she shall stay but half an hour. Sore throat--terrible cold
+she took in the morning. I'll swear for her, she'd not have come for
+any one but you."
+
+The young lady did not seem inclined to swear, or even to say this
+for herself; she stood wonderfully unconcerned and passive, with an
+expression of humour lurking in her eyes, and about the corners of
+her mouth; whilst Lady Clonbrony was "shocked," and "gratified,"
+and "concerned," and "flattered;" and whilst every body was hoping,
+and fearing, and busying themselves about her, "Miss Broadhurst,
+you'd better sit here!"--"Oh, for heaven's sake! Miss Broadhurst,
+not there!" "Miss Broadhurst, if you'll take my opinion," and "Miss
+Broadhurst, if I may advise--."
+
+"Grace Nugent!" cried Lady Clonbrony. "Miss Broadhurst always listens
+to you. Do, my dear, persuade Miss Broadhurst to take care of herself,
+and let us take her to the inner little pagoda, where she can be so
+warm and so retired--the very thing for an invalid--Colambre! pioneer
+the way for us, for the crowd's immense."
+
+Lady Anne and Lady Catherine H----, Lady Langdale's daughters, were
+at this time leaning on Miss Nugent's arm, and moved along with this
+party to the inner pagoda. There were to be cards in one room, music
+in another, dancing in a third, and in this little room there were
+prints and chess-boards, &c.
+
+"Here you will be quite to yourselves," said Lady Clonbrony; "let
+me establish you comfortably in this, which I call my sanctuary--my
+_snuggery_--Colambre, that little table!--Miss Broadhurst, you play
+chess?--Colambre, you'll play with Miss Broadhurst--"
+
+"I thank your ladyship," said Miss Broadhurst, "but I know nothing of
+chess but the moves: Lady Catherine, you will play, and I will look
+on."
+
+Miss Broadhurst drew her seat to the fire; Lady Catherine sat down to
+play with Lord Colambre: Lady Clonbrony withdrew, again recommending
+Miss Broadhurst to Grace Nugent's care. After some commonplace
+conversation, Lady Anne H----, looking at the company in the adjoining
+apartment, asked her sister how old Miss Somebody was who passed
+by. This led to reflections upon the comparative age and youthful
+appearance of several of their acquaintance, and upon the care with
+which mothers concealed the age of their daughters. Glances passed
+between Lady Catherine and Lady Anne.
+
+"For my part," said Miss Broadhurst, "my mother would labour that
+point of secrecy in vain for me; for I am willing to tell my age, even
+if my face did not tell it for me, to all whom it may concern--I am
+passed three-and-twenty--shall be four-and-twenty the fifth of next
+July."
+
+"Three-and-twenty!--Bless me!--I thought you were not twenty!" cried
+Lady Anne.
+
+"Four-and-twenty next July!--impossible!" cried Lady Catherine.
+
+"Very possible," said Miss Broadhurst, quite unconcerned.
+
+"Now, Lord Colambre, would you believe it? Can you believe it?" asked
+Lady Catherine.
+
+"Yes, he can," said Miss Broadhurst. "Don't you see that he believes
+it as firmly as you and I do? Why should you force his lordship to pay
+a compliment contrary to his better judgment, or extort a smile from
+him under false pretences? I am sure he sees that you, and I trust he
+perceives that I, do not think the worse of him for this."
+
+Lord Colambre smiled now without any false pretence; and, relieved at
+once from all apprehension of her joining in his mother's views, or of
+her expecting particular attention from him, he became at ease with
+Miss Broadhurst, showed a desire to converse with her, and listened
+eagerly to what she said. He recollected that Miss Nugent had told
+him, that this young lady had no common character; and, neglecting his
+move at chess, he looked up at Miss Nugent, as much as to say, "_Draw
+her out_, pray."
+
+But Grace was too good a friend to comply with that request; she left
+Miss Broadhurst to unfold her own character.
+
+"It is your move, my lord," said Lady Catherine.
+
+"I beg your ladyship's pardon--"
+
+"Are not these rooms beautiful, Miss Broadhurst?" said Lady Catherine,
+determined, if possible, to turn the conversation into a commonplace,
+safe channel; for she had just felt, what most of Miss Broadhurst's
+acquaintance had in their turn felt, that she had an odd way of
+startling people, by setting their own secret little motives suddenly
+before them.
+
+"Are not these rooms beautiful?"
+
+"Beautiful!--Certainly."
+
+The beauty of the rooms would have answered Lady Catherine's purpose
+for some time, had not Lady Anne imprudently brought the conversation
+back again to Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"Do you know, Miss Broadhurst," said she, "that if I had fifty sore
+throats, I could not have refrained from my diamonds on this GALA
+night; and such diamonds as you have! Now, really, I could not believe
+you to be the same person we saw blazing at the opera the other
+night!"
+
+"Really! could not you, Lady Anne? That is the very thing that
+entertains me. I only wish that I could lay aside my fortune
+sometimes, as well as my diamonds, and see how few people would know
+me then. Might not I, Grace, by the golden rule, which, next to
+practice, is the best rule in the world, calculate and answer that
+question?"
+
+"I am persuaded," said Lord Colambre, "that Miss Broadhurst has
+friends on whom the experiment would make no difference."
+
+"I am convinced of it," said Miss Broadhurst; "and that is what makes
+me tolerably happy, though I have the misfortune to be an heiress."
+
+"That is the oddest speech," said Lady Anne. "Now I should so like
+to be a great heiress, and to have, like you, such thousands and
+thousands at command."
+
+"And what can the thousands upon thousands do for me? Hearts, you
+know, Lady Anne, are to be won only by radiant eyes. Bought hearts
+your ladyship certainly would not recommend. They're such poor
+things--no wear at all. Turn them which way you will, you can make
+nothing of them."
+
+"You've tried, then, have you?" said Lady Catherine.
+
+"To my cost.--Very nearly taken in by them half a dozen times; for
+they are brought to me by dozens; and they are so made up for sale,
+and the people do so swear to you that it's real, real love, and it
+looks so like it: and, if you stoop to examine it, you hear it pressed
+upon you by such elegant oaths.--By all that's lovely!--By all my
+hopes of happiness!--By your own charming self! Why, what can one do
+but look like a fool, and believe? for these men, at the time, all
+look so like gentlemen, that one cannot bring oneself flatly to tell
+them that they are cheats and swindlers, that they are perjuring their
+precious souls. Besides, to call a lover a perjured creature is to
+encourage him. He would have a right to complain if you went back
+after that."
+
+"O dear! what a move was there!" cried Lady Catherine. "Miss
+Broadhurst is so entertaining to-night, notwithstanding her sore
+throat, that one can positively attend to nothing else. And she talks
+of love and lovers too with such _connoissance de fait_--counts her
+lovers by dozens, tied up in true lovers' knots!"
+
+"Lovers!--no, no! Did I say lovers?--suitors I should have said.
+There's nothing less like a lover, a true lover, than a suitor, as all
+the world knows, ever since the days of Penelope. Dozens!--never had a
+lover in my life!--And fear, with much reason, I never shall have one
+to my mind."
+
+"My lord, you've given up the game," cried Lady Catherine; "but you
+make no battle."
+
+"It would be so vain to combat against your ladyship," said Lord
+Colambre, rising, and bowing politely to Lady Catherine, but turning
+the next instant to converse with Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"But when I talked of liking to be an heiress," said Lady Anne, "I was
+not thinking of lovers."
+
+"Certainly.--One is not always thinking of lovers, you know," added
+Lady Catherine.
+
+"Not always," replied Miss Broadhurst. "Well, lovers out of the
+question on all sides, what would your ladyship buy with the thousands
+upon thousands?"
+
+"Oh, every thing, if I were you," said Lady Anne.
+
+"Rank, to begin with," said Lady Catherine.
+
+"Still my old objection--bought rank is but a shabby thing."
+
+"But there is so little difference made between bought and hereditary
+rank in these days," said Lady Catherine.
+
+"I see a great deal still," said Miss Broadhurst; "so much, that I
+would never buy a title."
+
+"A title, without birth, to be sure," said Lady Anne, "would not be so
+well worth buying; and as birth certainly is not to be bought--"
+
+"And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not buy," said
+Miss Broadhurst, "unless I could be sure to have it with all the
+politeness, all the noble sentiments, all the magnanimity, in short,
+all that should grace and dignify high birth."
+
+"Admirable!" said Lord Colambre. Grace Nugent smiled.
+
+"Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my mother in mind, I
+must go away?"
+
+"I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it," said his lordship.
+
+"Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?" said Lady Anne. "Miss
+Nugent, I am afraid we have made Miss Broadhurst talk so much, in
+spite of her hoarseness, that Lady Clonbrony will be quite angry with
+us. And here she comes, Lady Catherine."
+
+My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss Broadhurst would not
+think of running away; but Miss Broadhurst could not be prevailed upon
+to stay. Lady Clonbrony was delighted to see that her son assisted
+Grace Nugent most carefully in _shawling_ the young heiress--his
+lordship conducted her to her carriage, and his mother drew many happy
+auguries from the gallantry of his manner, and from the young lady's
+having stayed three quarters, instead of half an hour--a circumstance
+which Lady Catherine did not fail to remark.
+
+The dancing, which, under various pretences, Lady Clonbrony had
+delayed till Lord Colambre was at liberty, began immediately after
+Miss Broadhurst's departure; and the chalked mosaic pavement of the
+Alhambra was, in a few minutes, effaced by the dancers' feet. How
+transient are all human joys, especially those of vanity! Even on this
+long meditated, this long desired, this gala night, Lady Clonbrony
+found her triumph incomplete--inadequate to her expectations. For the
+first hour all had been compliment, success, and smiles; presently
+came the _buts_, and the hesitated objections, and the "damning
+with faint praise"--all _that_ could be borne--every body has his
+taste--and one person's taste is as good as another's; and while
+she had Mr. Soho to cite, Lady Clonbrony thought she might be well
+satisfied. But she could not be satisfied with Colonel Heathcock, who,
+dressed in black, had stretched his "fashionable length of limb" under
+the Statira canopy, upon the snow-white swandown couch. When, after
+having monopolized attention, and been the subject of much bad wit,
+about black swans and rare birds, and swans being geese and geese
+being swans, the colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville
+said, to vacate his couch--that couch was no longer white--the black
+impression of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.
+
+"Eh, now! really didn't recollect I was in black," was all the apology
+he made. Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed that the appearance of
+the Statira canopy should be spoiled before the effect had been seen
+by Lady Pococke, and Lady Chatterton, and Lady G----, Lady P----, and
+the Duke of V----, and a party of superlative fashionables, who had
+promised _to look in upon her_, but who, late as it was, had not yet
+arrived. They came in at last. But Lady Clonbrony had no reason to
+regret for their sake the Statira couch. It would have been lost upon
+them, as was every thing else which she had prepared with so much
+pains and cost to excite their admiration. They came resolute not to
+admire. Skilled in the art of making others unhappy, they just looked
+round with an air of apathy.--"Ah! you've had Soho!--Soho has done
+wonders for you here!--Vastly well!--Vastly well!--Soho's very clever
+in his way!"
+
+Others of great importance came in, full of some slight accident that
+had happened to themselves, or their horses, or their carriages; and,
+with privileged selfishness, engrossed the attention of all within
+their sphere of conversation. Well, Lady Clonbrony got over all this;
+and got over the history of a letter about a chimney that was on fire,
+a week ago, at the Duke of V----'s old house, in Brecknockshire. In
+gratitude for the smiling patience with which she listened to him,
+his Grace of V---- fixed his glass to look at the Alhambra, and had
+just pronounced it to be "Well!--very well!" when the Dowager Lady
+Chatterton made a terrible discovery--a discovery that filled Lady
+Clonbrony with astonishment and indignation--Mr. Soho had played her
+false! What was her mortification, when the dowager assured her that
+these identical Alhambra hangings had not only been shown by Mr. Soho
+to the Duchess of Torcaster, but that her grace had had the refusal of
+them, and had actually criticised them, in consequence of Sir Horace
+Grant, the great traveller's objecting to some of the proportions of
+the pillars--Soho had engaged to make a new set, vastly improved, by
+Sir Horace's suggestions, for her Grace of Torcaster.
+
+Now Lady Chatterton was the greatest talker extant; and she went
+about the rooms telling every body of her acquaintance--and she was
+acquainted with every body--how shamefully Soho had imposed upon poor
+Lady Clonbrony, protesting she could not forgive the man. "For," said
+she, "though the Duchess of Torcaster had been his constant customer
+for ages, and his patroness, and all that, yet this does not excuse
+him--and Lady Clonbrony's being a stranger, and from Ireland, makes
+the thing worse." From Ireland!--that was the unkindest cut of
+all--but there was no remedy.
+
+In vain poor Lady Clonbrony followed the dowager about the rooms to
+correct this mistake, and to represent, in justice to Mr. Soho, though
+he had used her so ill, that he knew she was an Englishwoman. The
+dowager was deaf, and no whisper could reach her ear. And when Lady
+Clonbrony was obliged to bawl an explanation in her ear, the dowager
+only repeated, "In justice to Mr. Soho!--No, no; he has not done
+you justice, my dear Lady Clonbrony! and I'll expose him to every
+body. Englishwoman!--no, no, no!--Soho could not take you for an
+Englishwoman!"
+
+All who secretly envied or ridiculed Lady Clonbrony enjoyed this
+scene. The Alhambra hangings, which had been in one short hour before
+the admiration of the world, were now regarded by every eye with
+contempt, as _cast_ hangings, and every tongue was busy declaiming
+against Mr. Soho; every body declared, that from the first, the want
+of proportion "struck them, but that they would not mention it till
+others found it out."
+
+People usually revenge themselves for having admired too much, by
+afterwards despising and depreciating without mercy--in all great
+assemblies the perception of ridicule is quickly caught, and quickly
+too revealed. Lady Clonbrony, even in her own house, on her gala
+night, became an object of ridicule,--decently masked, indeed, under
+the appearance of condolence with her ladyship, and of indignation
+against "that abominable Mr. Soho!"
+
+Lady Langdale, who was now, for reasons of her own, upon her good
+behaviour, did penance, as she said, for her former imprudence,
+by abstaining even from whispered sarcasms. She looked on with
+penitential gravity, said nothing herself, and endeavoured to keep
+Mrs. Dareville in order; but that was no easy task. Mrs. Dareville
+had no daughters, had nothing to gain from the acquaintance of my Lady
+Clonbrony; and conscious that her ladyship would bear a vast deal
+from her presence, rather than forego the honour of her sanction,
+Mrs. Dareville, without any motives of interest, or good-nature of
+sufficient power to restrain her talent and habit of ridicule, free
+from hope or fear, gave full scope to all the malice of mockery, and
+all the insolence of fashion. Her slings and arrows, numerous as they
+were and outrageous, were directed against such petty objects, and the
+mischief was so quick in its aim and its operation, that, felt but not
+seen, it is scarcely possible to register the hits, or to describe the
+nature of the wounds.
+
+Some hits, sufficiently palpable, however, are recorded for the
+advantage of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony led her to look at the
+Chinese pagoda, the lady paused, with her foot on the threshold, as
+if afraid to enter this porcelain Elysium, as she called it--Fool's
+Paradise, she would have said; and, by her hesitation, and by the
+half pronounced word, suggested the idea,--"None but belles without
+petticoats can enter here," said she, drawing her clothes tight round
+her; "fortunately, I have but two, and Lady Langdale has but one."
+Prevailed upon to venture in, she walked on with prodigious care and
+trepidation, affecting to be alarmed at the crowd of strange forms and
+monsters by which she was surrounded.
+
+"Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature!--Well, now I
+may boast I've been in a real Chinese pagoda!"
+
+"Why, yes, every thing is appropriate here, I flatter my self," said
+Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in defiance of bulls
+and blunders, to allow us a comfortable English fire-place and plenty
+of Newcastle coal in China!--And a white marble--no! white velvet
+hearthrug painted with beautiful flowers--Oh! the delicate, the
+_useful_ thing!"
+
+Vexed by the emphasis on the word _useful_, Lady Clonbrony endeavoured
+to turn off the attention of the company. "Lady Langdale, your
+ladyship's a judge of china--this vase is an unique, I am told."
+
+"I am told," interrupted Mrs. Dareville, "this is the very vase in
+which B----, the nabob's father, who was, you know, a China captain,
+smuggled his dear little Chinese wife and all her fortune out of
+Canton--positively, actually put the lid on, packed her up, and sent
+her off on shipboard!--True! true! upon my veracity! I'll tell you my
+authority!"
+
+With this story, Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from the jar, to
+Lady Clonbrony's infinite mortification.
+
+Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range of china jars.
+
+"Ali Baba and the forty thieves!" exclaimed Mrs. Dareville: "I hope
+you have boiling oil ready!"
+
+Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that Mrs. Dareville
+was uncommon pleasant to-night--"But now," said her ladyship, "let me
+take you to the Turkish tent."
+
+Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of the pagoda
+and into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony began to breathe move
+freely; for here she thought she was upon safe ground:--"Every thing,
+I flatter myself," said she, "is correct, and appropriate, and quite
+picturesque"--The company, dispersed in happy groups, or reposing on
+seraglio ottomans, drinking lemonade and sherbet--beautiful Fatimas
+admiring, or being admired--"Every thing here quite correct,
+appropriate, and picturesque," repeated Mrs. Dareville.
+
+This lady's powers as a mimic were extraordinary, and she found them
+irresistible. Hitherto she had imitated Lady Clonbrony's air and
+accent only behind her back; but, bolder grown, she now ventured, in
+spite of Lady Langdale's warning pinches, to mimic her kind hostess
+before her face, and to her face. Now, whenever Lady Clonbrony saw any
+thing that struck her fancy in the dress of her fashionable friends,
+she had a way of hanging her head aside, and saying, with a peculiarly
+sentimental drawl, "How pretty!--How elegant!--Now that quite suits
+my _teeste_." this phrase, precisely in the same accent, and with the
+head set to the same angle of affectation, Mrs. Dareville had the
+assurance to address to her ladyship, apropos to something which she
+pretended to admire in Lady Clonbrony's _costume_--a costume, which,
+excessively fashionable in each of its parts, was, altogether, so
+extraordinarily unbecoming, as to be fit for a print-shop. The
+perception of this, added to the effect of Mrs. Dareville's mimicry,
+was almost too much for Lady Langdale; she could not possibly have
+stood it, but for the appearance of Miss Nugent at this instant behind
+Lady Clonbrony. Grace gave one glance of indignation, which seemed
+suddenly to strike Mrs. Dareville. Silence for a moment ensued, and
+afterwards the tone of the conversation was changed.
+
+"Salisbury!--explain this to me," said a lady, drawing Mr. Salisbury
+aside. "If you are in the secret, do explain this to me; for unless I
+had seen it, I could not have believed it. Nay, though I have seen it,
+I do not believe it. How was that daring spirit laid? By what spell?"
+
+"By the spell which superior minds always cast on inferior spirits."
+
+"Very fine," said the lady, laughing, "but as old as the days of
+Leonora de Galigai, quoted a million times. Now tell me something new
+and to the purpose, and better suited to modern days."
+
+"Well, then, since you will not allow me to talk of superior minds in
+the present day, let me ask you if you have never observed that a wit,
+once conquered in company by a wit of higher order, is thenceforward
+in complete subjection to the conqueror; whenever and wherever they
+meet."
+
+"You would not persuade me that yonder gentle-looking girl could ever
+be a match for the veteran Mrs. Dareville? She may have the wit, but
+has she the courage?"
+
+"Yes; no one has more courage, more civil courage, where her own
+dignity, or the interests of her friends are concerned--I will tell
+you an instance or two to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow!--To-night!--tell it me now."
+
+"Not a safe place."
+
+"The safest in the world, in such a crowd as this--Follow my example.
+Take a glass of orgeat--sip from time to time, thus--speak low,
+looking innocent all the while straight forward, or now and then up at
+the lamps--keep on in an even tone--use no names--and you may tell any
+thing."
+
+"Well, then, when Miss Nugent first came to London, Mrs. Dareville--"
+
+"Two names already--did not I warn ye?"
+
+"But how can I make myself intelligible?"
+
+"Initials--can't you use--or genealogy?--What stops you?--It is only
+Lord Colambre, a very safe person, I have a notion, when the eulogium
+is of Miss Nugent."
+
+Lord Colambre, who had now performed his arduous duties as a dancer,
+and had disembarrassed himself of all his partners, came into the
+Turkish tent just at this moment to refresh himself, and just in time
+to hear Mr. Salisbury's anecdotes.
+
+"Now go on."
+
+"Mrs. Dareville, you remember, some years ago, went to Ireland, with
+some lady lieutenant, to whom she was related--there she was most
+hospitably received by Lord and Lady Clonbrony--went to their country
+house--was as intimate with Lady Clonbrony and with Miss Nugent as
+possible--stayed at Clonbrony Castle for a month; and yet, when
+Lady Clonbrony came to London, never took the least notice of her.
+At last, meeting at the house of a common friend, Mrs. Dareville
+could not avoid recognizing her ladyship; but, even then, did it in
+the least civil manner and most cursory style possible--'Ho! Lady
+Clonbrony!--didn't know you were in England!--When did you come?--How
+long shall you stay in town?--Hope, before you leave England, your
+ladyship and Miss Nugent will give us a day?'--_A day!_--Lady
+Clonbrony was so astonished by this impudence of ingratitude, that she
+hesitated how to _take it_; but Miss Nugent, quite coolly, and with a
+smile, answered, 'A day!--Certainly--to you, who gave us a month!'"
+
+"Admirable!--Now I comprehend perfectly why Mrs. Dareville declines
+insulting Miss Nugent's friends in her presence."
+
+Lord Colambre said nothing, but thought much. "How I wish my mother,"
+thought he, "had some of Grace Nugent's proper pride! She would not
+then waste her fortune, spirits, health, and life, in courting such
+people as these."
+
+He had not seen--he could not have borne to have beheld--the manner
+in which his mother had been treated by some of her guests; but he
+observed that she now looked harassed and vexed; and he was provoked
+and mortified, by hearing her begging and beseeching some of the saucy
+leaders of the ton to oblige her, to do her the favour, to do her the
+honour, to stay to supper. It was just ready--actually announced. "No,
+they would not, they could not; they were obliged to run away: engaged
+to the Duchess of Torcaster."
+
+"Lord Colambre, what is the matter?" said Miss Nugent, going up to
+him, as he stood aloof and indignant: "Don't look so like a chafed
+lion; others may perhaps read your countenance, as well as I do."
+
+"None can read my mind so well," replied he. "Oh, my dear Grace!--"
+
+"Supper!--Supper!" cried she: "your duty to your neighbour, your hand
+to your partner."
+
+The supper room, fitted up at great expense, with scenery to imitate
+Vauxhall, opened into a superb greenhouse, lighted with coloured
+lamps, a band of music at a distance--every delicacy, every luxury
+that could gratify the senses, appeared in profusion. The company
+ate and drank--enjoyed themselves--went away--and laughed at their
+hostess. Some, indeed, who thought they had been neglected, were in
+too bad humour to laugh, but abused her in sober earnest; for Lady
+Clonbrony had offended half, nay, three quarters of her guests, by
+what they termed her exclusive attention to those very leaders of the
+ton, from whom she had suffered so much, and who had made it obvious
+to all that they thought they did her too much honour in appearing
+at her gala. So ended the gala for which she had lavished such sums;
+for which she had laboured so indefatigably; and from which she had
+expected such triumph.
+
+"Colambre, bid the musicians stop--they are playing to empty benches,"
+said Lady Clonbrony. "Grace, my dear, will you see that these lamps
+are safely put out? I am so tired, so _worn out_, I must go to bed;
+and I am sure I have caught cold, too. What a _nervous business_ it is
+to manage these things! I wonder how one gets through it, or _why_ one
+does it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+Lady Clonbrony was taken ill the day after her gala; she had caught
+cold by standing, when much overheated, in a violent draught of wind,
+paying her parting compliments to the Duke of V----, who thought her a
+_bore_, and wished her in heaven all the time for keeping his horses
+standing. Her ladyship's illness was severe and long; she was confined
+to her room for some weeks by a rheumatic fever, and an inflammation
+in her eyes. Every day, when Lord Colambre went to see his mother,
+he found Miss Nugent in her apartment, and every hour he found fresh
+reason to admire this charming girl. The affectionate tenderness, the
+indefatigable patience, the strong attachment she showed for her aunt,
+actually raised Lady Clonbrony in her son's opinion. He was persuaded
+she must surely have some good or great qualities, or she could not
+have excited such strong affection. A few foibles out of the question,
+such as her love of fine people, her affectation of being English, and
+other affectations too tedious to mention, Lady Clonbrony was really a
+good woman, had good principles, moral and religious, and, selfishness
+not immediately interfering, she was good-natured; and, though
+her whole soul and attention were so completely absorbed in the
+duties of acquaintanceship that she did not know it, she really had
+affections--they were concentrated upon a few near relations. She was
+extremely fond and extremely proud of her son. Next to her son, she
+was fonder of her niece than of any other creature. She had received
+Grace Nugent into her family when she was left an orphan, and deserted
+by some of her other relations. She had bred her up, and had treated
+her with constant kindness. This kindness and these obligations had
+raised the warmest gratitude in Miss Nugent's heart; and it was the
+strong principle of gratitude which rendered her capable of endurance
+and exertions seemingly far above her strength. This young lady was
+not of a robust appearance, though she now underwent extraordinary
+fatigue. Her aunt could scarcely bear that she should leave her for
+a moment: she could not close her eyes, unless Grace sat up with her
+many hours every night. Night after night she bore this fatigue; and
+yet, with little sleep or rest, she preserved her health, at least,
+supported her spirits; and every morning when Lord Colambre came into
+his mother's room, he saw Miss Nugent look as blooming as if she had
+enjoyed the most refreshing sleep. The bloom was, as he observed, not
+permanent; it came and went with every emotion of her feeling heart;
+and he soon learned to fancy her almost as handsome when she was pale
+as when she had a colour. He had thought her beautiful when he beheld
+her in all the radiance of light, and with all the advantages of dress
+at the gala, but he found her infinitely more lovely and interesting
+now, when he saw her in a sick-room--a half-darkened chamber--where
+often he could but just discern her form, or distinguish her, except
+by her graceful motion as she passed, or when, but for a moment, a
+window-curtain drawn aside let the sun shine upon her face, or on the
+ringlets of her hair.
+
+Much must be allowed for an inflammation in the eyes, and something
+for a rheumatic fever; yet it may seem strange that Lady Clonbrony
+should be so blind and deaf as neither to see nor hear all this
+time; that having lived so long in the world, it should never occur
+to her that it was rather imprudent to have a young lady, not
+eighteen, nursing her--and such a young lady!--when her son, not
+one-and-twenty--and such a son!--came to visit her daily. But, so it
+was, Lady Clonbrony knew nothing of love--she had read of it, indeed,
+in novels, which sometimes for fashion's sake she had looked at, and
+over which she had been obliged to dose; but this was only love in
+books--love in real life she had never met with--in the life she led,
+how should she? She had heard of its making young people, and old
+people even, do foolish things; but those were foolish people; and if
+they were worse than foolish, why it was shocking, and nobody visited
+them. But Lady Clonbrony had not, for her own part, the slightest
+notion how people could be brought to this pass, nor how any body
+out of Bedlam could prefer, to a good house, a decent equipage, and
+a proper establishment, what is called love in a cottage. As to
+Colambre, she had too good an opinion of his understanding--to say
+nothing of his duty to his family, his pride, his rank, and his being
+her son--to let such an idea cross her imagination. As to her niece;
+in the first place, she was her niece, and first cousins should never
+marry, because they form no new connexions to strengthen the family
+interest, or raise its consequence. This doctrine her ladyship had
+repeated for years so often and so dogmatically, that she conceived
+it to be incontrovertible, and of as full force as any law of the
+land, or as any moral or religious obligation. She would as soon have
+suspected her niece of an intention of stealing her diamond necklace
+as of purloining Colambre's heart, or marrying this heir of the house
+of Clonbrony.
+
+Miss Nugent was so well apprized, and so thoroughly convinced of
+all this, that she never for one moment allowed herself to think of
+Lord Colambre as a lover. Duty, honour, and gratitude--gratitude,
+the strong feeling and principle of her mind--forbade it; she had
+so prepared and accustomed herself to consider him as a person with
+whom she could not possibly be united, that, with perfect ease
+and simplicity, she behaved towards him exactly as if he were her
+brother--not in the equivocating sentimental romance style in which
+ladies talk of treating men as their brothers, whom they are all the
+time secretly thinking of and endeavouring to please as lovers--not
+using this phrase, as a convenient pretence, a safe mode of securing
+herself from suspicion or scandal, and of enjoying the advantages of
+confidence and the intimacy of friendship, till the propitious moment,
+when it should be time to declare or avow _the secret of the heart_.
+No: this young lady was quite above all double dealing; she had no
+mental reservation--no metaphysical subtleties--but, with plain,
+unsophisticated morality, in good faith and simple truth, acted as she
+professed, thought what she said, and was that which she seemed to be.
+
+As soon as Lady Clonbrony was able to see any body, her niece sent to
+Mrs. Broadhurst, who was very intimate with the family; she used to
+come frequently, almost every evening, to sit with the invalid. Miss
+Broadhurst accompanied her mother, for she did not like to go out with
+any other chaperon--it was disagreeable to spend her time alone at
+home, and most agreeable to spend it with her friend Miss Nugent. In
+this she had no design; Miss Broadhurst had too lofty and independent
+a spirit to stoop to coquetry: she thought that, in their interview
+at the gala, she understood Lord Colambre, and that he understood
+her--that he was not inclined to court her for her fortune--that she
+would not be content with any suitor who was not a lover. She was two
+or three years older than Lord Colambre, perfectly aware of her want
+of beauty, yet with a just sense of her own merit, and of what was
+becoming and due to the dignity of her sex. This, she trusted, was
+visible in her manners, and established in Lord Colambre's mind; so
+that she ran no risk of being misunderstood by him; and as to what the
+rest of the world thought, she was so well used to hear weekly and
+daily reports of her going to be married to fifty different people,
+that she cared little for what was said on this subject. Indeed,
+conscious of rectitude, and with an utter contempt for mean and
+commonplace gossiping, she was, for a woman, and a young woman, rather
+too disdainful of the opinion of the world. Mrs. Broadhurst, though
+her daughter had fully explained herself respecting Lord Colambre,
+before she began this course of visiting, yet rejoiced that even on
+this footing there should be constant intercourse between them. It was
+Mrs. Broadhurst's warmest wish that her daughter should obtain rank,
+and connect herself with an ancient family; she was sensible that the
+young lady's being older than the gentleman might be an obstacle; and
+very sorry she was to find that her daughter had so imprudently, so
+unnecessarily, declared her age: but still this little obstacle might
+be overcome, much greater difficulties in the marriage of inferior
+heiresses being every day got over, and thought nothing of. Then, as
+to the young lady's own sentiments, her mother knew them better than
+she did herself: she understood her daughter's pride, that she dreaded
+to be made an object of bargain and sale; but Mrs. Broadhurst, who,
+with all her coarseness of mind, had rather a better notion of love
+matters than Lady Clonbrony, perceived, through her daughter's horror
+of being offered to Lord Colambre, through her anxiety that nothing
+approaching to an advance on the part of her family should be made,
+that if Lord Colambre should himself advance, he would stand a better
+chance of being accepted than any other of the numerous persons who
+had yet aspired to the favour of this heiress. The very circumstance
+of his having paid no court to her at first operated in his favour;
+for it proved that he was not mercenary, and that, whatever attention
+he might afterwards show, she must be sure would be sincere and
+disinterested.
+
+"And now, let them but see one another in this easy, intimate, kind
+of way; and you will find, my dear Lady Clonbrony, things will go on
+of their own accord, all the better for our--minding our cards--and
+never minding any thing else. I remember, when I was young--but let
+that pass--let the young people see one another, and manage their
+own affairs their own way--let them be together--that's all I say.
+Ask half the men you are acquainted with why they married, and
+their answer, if they speak truth, will be--'because I met Miss
+Such-a-one at such a place, and we were continually together.'
+Propinquity!--Propinquity!--as my father used to say--And he was
+married five times, and twice to heiresses."
+
+In consequence of this plan of leaving things to themselves, every
+evening Lady Clonbrony made out her own little card-table with Mrs.
+Broadhurst, and a Mr. and Miss Pratt, a brother and sister, who were
+the most obliging, convenient neighbours imaginable. From time to
+time, as Lady Clonbrony gathered up her cards, she would direct an
+inquiring glance to the group of young people at the other table;
+whilst the more prudent Mrs. Broadhurst sat plump with her back to
+them, pursing up her lips, and contracting her brows in token of
+deep calculation, looking down impenetrable at her cards, never even
+noticing Lady Clonbrony's glances, but inquiring from her partner,
+"How many they were by honours?"
+
+The young party generally consisted of Miss Broadhurst, Lord Colambre,
+Miss Nugent, and her admirer, Mr. Salisbury. Mr. Salisbury was a
+middle-aged gentleman, very agreeable, and well informed; he had
+travelled; had seen a great deal of the world; had lived in the
+best company; had acquired what is called good _tact_; was full of
+anecdote, not mere gossiping anecdotes that lead to nothing, but
+characteristic of national manners, of human nature in general, or
+of those illustrious individuals who excite public curiosity and
+interest. Miss Nugent had seen him always in large companies, where he
+was admired for his scavoir-vivre, and for his entertaining anecdotes,
+but where he had no opportunity of producing any of the higher powers
+of his understanding, or showing character. She found that Mr.
+Salisbury appeared to her quite a different person when conversing
+with Lord Colambre. Lord Colambre, with that ardent thirst for
+knowledge which it is always agreeable to gratify, had an air of
+openness and generosity, a frankness, a warmth of manner, which,
+with good breeding, but with something beyond it and superior to its
+established forms, irresistibly won the confidence and attracted the
+affection of those with whom he conversed. His manners were peculiarly
+agreeable to a person like Mr. Salisbury, tired of the sameness and
+egotism of men of the world.
+
+Miss Nugent had seldom till now had the advantage of hearing
+much conversation on literary subjects. In the life she had been
+compelled to lead she had acquired accomplishments, had exercised
+her understanding upon every thing that passed before her, and from
+circumstances had formed her judgment and her taste by observations
+on real life; but the ample page of knowledge had never been unrolled
+to her eyes. She had never had opportunities of acquiring a taste
+for literature herself, but she admired it in others, particularly
+in her friend Miss Broadhurst. Miss Broadhurst had received all the
+advantages of education which money could procure, and had benefited
+by them in a manner uncommon among those for whom they are purchased
+in such abundance: she not only had had many masters, and read many
+books, but had thought of what she read, and had supplied, by the
+strength and energy of her own mind, what cannot be acquired by
+the assistance of masters. Miss Nugent, perhaps overvaluing the
+information that she did not possess, and free from all idea of
+envy, looked up to her friend as to a superior being, with a sort of
+enthusiastic admiration; and now, with "charmed attention," listened,
+by turns, to her, to Mr. Salisbury, and to Lord Colambre, whilst they
+conversed on literary subjects--listened, with a countenance so full
+of intelligence, of animation, so expressive of every good and kind
+affection, that the gentlemen did not always know what they were
+saying.
+
+"Pray go on," said she, once, to Mr. Salisbury: "you stop, perhaps,
+from politeness to me--from compassion to my ignorance; but though I
+am ignorant, you do not tire me, I assure you. Did you ever condescend
+to read the Arabian Tales? Like him whose eyes were touched by the
+magical application from the dervise, I am enabled at once to see the
+riches of a new world--Oh! how unlike, how superior to that in which I
+have lived--the GREAT world, as it is called!"
+
+Lord Colambre brought down a beautiful edition of the Arabian Tales,
+looked for the story to which Miss Nugent had alluded, and showed it
+to Miss Broadhurst, who was also searching for it in another volume.
+
+Lady Clonbrony, from her card-table, saw the young people thus
+engaged--
+
+"I profess not to understand these things so well as you say you do,
+my dear Mrs. Broadhurst," whispered she; "but look there now; they are
+at their books! What do you expect can come of that sort of thing? So
+ill bred, and downright rude of Colambre, I must give him a hint."
+
+"No, no, for mercy's sake! my dear Lady Clonbrony, no hints, no hints,
+no remarks! What would you have?--she reading, and my lord at the back
+of her chair leaning over--and allowed, mind, to lean over to read the
+same thing. Can't be better!--Never saw any man yet allowed to come so
+near her!--Now, Lady Clonbrony, not a word, not a look, I beseech."
+
+"Well, well!--but if they had a little music."
+
+"My daughter's tired of music. How much do I owe your ladyship
+now?--three rubbers, I think. Now, though you would not believe it of
+a young girl," continued Mrs. Broadhurst, "I can assure your ladyship,
+my daughter would often rather go to a book than a ball."
+
+"Well, now, that's very extraordinary, in the style in which she has
+been brought up; yet books and all that are so fashionable now, that
+it's very natural," said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+About this time, Mr. Berryl, Lord Colambre's Cambridge friend, for
+whom his lordship had fought the battle of the curricle with Mordicai,
+came to town. Lord Colambre introduced him to his mother, by whom he
+was graciously received; for Mr. Berryl was a young gentleman of good
+figure, good address, good family, heir to a good fortune, and in
+every respect a fit match for Miss Nugent. Lady Clonbrony thought that
+it would be wise to secure him for her niece before he should make
+his appearance in the London world, where mothers and daughters would
+soon make him feel his own consequence. Mr. Berryl, as Lord Colambre's
+intimate friend, was admitted to the private evening parties at Lady
+Clonbrony's; and he contributed to render them still more agreeable.
+His information, his habits of thinking, and his views, were
+all totally different from Mr. Salisbury's; and their collision
+continually struck out that sparkling novelty which pleases peculiarly
+in conversation. Mr. Berryl's education, disposition, and tastes,
+fitted him exactly for the station which he was destined to fill in
+society--that of _a country gentleman_; not meaning by that expression
+a mere eating, drinking, hunting, shooting, ignorant, country squire
+of the old race, which is now nearly extinct; but a cultivated,
+enlightened, independent English country gentleman--the happiest,
+perhaps, of human beings. On the comparative felicity of the town
+and country life; on the dignity, utility, elegance, and interesting
+nature of their different occupations, and general scheme of passing
+their time, Mr. Berryl and Mr. Salisbury had one evening a playful,
+entertaining, and, perhaps, instructive conversation; each party,
+at the end, remaining, as frequently happens, of their own opinion.
+It was observed, that Miss Broadhurst ably and warmly defended
+Mr. Berryl's side of the question; and in their views, plans, and
+estimates of life, there appeared a remarkable and, as Lord Colambre
+thought, a happy coincidence. When she was at last called upon to give
+her decisive judgment between a town and a country life, she declared
+that if she were condemned to the extremes of either, she should
+prefer a country life, as much as she should prefer Robinson Crusoe's
+diary to the journal of the idle man in the Spectator.
+
+"Lord bless me!--Mrs. Broadhurst, do you hear what your daughter is
+saying?" cried Lady Clonbrony, who, from the card-table, lent an
+attentive ear to all that was going forward. "Is it possible that Miss
+Broadhurst, with her fortune, and pretensions, and sense, can really
+be serious in saying she would be content to live in the country?"
+
+"What's that you say, child, about living in the country?" said Mrs.
+Broadhurst.
+
+Miss Broadhurst repeated what she had said.
+
+"Girls always think so who have lived in town," said Mrs. Broadhurst:
+"they are always dreaming of sheep and sheep-hooks; but the first
+winter in the country cures them: a shepherdess in winter is a sad and
+sorry sort of personage, except at a masquerade."
+
+"Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "I am sure Miss Broadhurst's
+sentiments about town life, and all that, must delight you--For do you
+know, ma'am, he is always trying to persuade me to give up living in
+town? Colambre and Miss Broadhurst perfectly agree."
+
+"Mind your cards, my dear Lady Clonbrony," interrupted Mrs.
+Broadhurst, "in pity to your partner. Mr. Pratt has certainly the
+patience of Job--your ladyship has revoked twice this hand."
+
+Lady Clonbrony begged a thousand pardons, fixed her eyes, and
+endeavoured to fix her mind on the cards; but there was something
+said at the other end of the room, about an estate in Cambridgeshire,
+which soon distracted her attention again. Mr. Pratt certainly had the
+patience of Job. She revoked again, and lost the game, though they had
+four by honours.
+
+As soon as she rose from the card-table, and could speak to Mrs.
+Broadhurst apart, she communicated her apprehensions. "Seriously, my
+dear madam," said she, "I believe I have done very wrong to admit
+Mr. Berryl just now, though it was on Grace's account I did it. But,
+ma'am, I did not know Miss Broadhurst had an estate in Cambridgeshire;
+their two estates just close to one another, I heard them say--Lord
+bless me, ma'am! there's the danger of propinquity indeed!"
+
+"No danger, no danger," persisted Mrs. Broadhurst. "I know my girl
+better than you do, begging your ladyship's pardon. No one thinks less
+of estates than she does."
+
+"Well, I only know I heard her talking of them, and earnestly too."
+
+"Yes, very likely; but don't you know that girls never think of what
+they are talking about, or rather never talk of what they are thinking
+about? And they have always ten times more to say to the man they
+don't care for than to him they do."
+
+"Very extraordinary!" said Lady Clonbrony: "I only hope you are
+right."
+
+"I am sure of it," said Mrs. Broadhurst. "Only let things go on,
+and mind your cards, I beseech you, to-morrow night better than
+you did to-night; and you will see that things will turn out just
+as I prophesied. Lord Colambre will come to a point-blank proposal
+before the end of the week, and will be accepted, or my name's not
+Broadhurst. Why, in plain English, I am clear my girl likes him; and
+when that's the case, you know, can you doubt how the thing will end?"
+
+Mrs. Broadhurst was perfectly right in every point of her reasoning
+but one. From long habit of seeing and considering that such an
+heiress as her daughter might marry whom she pleased,--from constantly
+seeing that she was the person to decide and to reject,--Mrs.
+Broadhurst had literally taken it for granted that every thing was to
+depend upon her daughter's inclinations: she was not mistaken, in the
+present case, in opining that the young lady would not be averse to
+Lord Colambre, if he came to what she called a point-blank proposal.
+It really never occurred to Mrs. Broadhurst, that any man whom her
+daughter was the least inclined to favour, could think of any body
+else. Quick-sighted in these affairs as the matron thought herself,
+she saw but one side of the question: blind and dull of comprehension
+as she thought Lady Clonbrony on this subject, Mrs. Broadhurst
+was herself so completely blinded by her own prejudices, as to be
+incapable of discerning the plain thing that was before her eyes;
+_videlicet_, that Lord Colambre preferred Grace Nugent. Lord Colambre
+made no proposal before the end of the week; but this Mrs. Broadhurst
+attributed to an unexpected occurrence, which prevented things from
+going on in the train in which they had been proceeding so smoothly.
+Sir John Berryl, Mr. Berryl's father, was suddenly seized with a
+dangerous illness. The news was brought to Mr. Berryl one evening
+whilst he was at Lady Clonbrony's. The circumstances of domestic
+distress which afterwards occurred in the family of his friend,
+entirely occupied Lord Colambre's time and attention. All thoughts
+of love were suspended, and his whole mind was given up to the
+active services of friendship. The sudden illness of Sir John Berryl
+spread an alarm among his creditors, which brought to light at once
+the disorder of his affairs, of which his son had no knowledge or
+suspicion. Lady Berryl had been a very expensive woman, especially in
+equipages; and Mordicai, the coachmaker, appeared at this time the
+foremost and the most inexorable of their creditors. Conscious that
+the charges in his account were exorbitant, and that they would not be
+allowed if examined by a court of justice; that it was a debt which
+only ignorance and extravagance could have in the first instance
+incurred, swelled afterwards to an amazing amount by interest, and
+interest upon interest; Mordicai was impatient to obtain payment,
+whilst Sir John yet lived, or at least to obtain legal security for
+the whole sum from the heir. Mr. Berryl offered his bond for the
+amount of the reasonable charges in his account; but this Mordicai
+absolutely refused, declaring that now he had the power in his own
+hands, he would use it to obtain the utmost penny of his debt; that
+he would not let the thing slip through his fingers; that a debtor
+never yet escaped him, and never should; that a man's lying upon his
+deathbed was no excuse to a creditor; that he was not a whiffler to
+stand upon ceremony about disturbing a gentleman in his last moments;
+that he was not to be cheated out of his due by such niceties; that he
+was prepared to go all lengths the law would allow; for that, as to
+what people said of him, he did not care a doit--"Cover your face with
+your hands, if you like it, Mr. Berryl; you may be ashamed for me, but
+I feel no shame for myself--I am not so weak." Mordicai's countenance
+said more than his words; livid with malice, and with atrocious
+determination in his eyes, he stood. "Yes, sir," said he, "you may
+look at me as you please--it is possible--I am in earnest. Consult
+what you'll do now behind my back, or before my face, it comes to the
+same thing; for nothing will do but my money or your bond, Mr. Berryl.
+The arrest is made on the person of your father, luckily made while
+the breath is still in the body--Yes--start forward to strike me, if
+you dare--Your father, Sir John Berryl, sick or well, is my prisoner."
+
+Lady Berryl and Mr. Berryl's sisters, in an agony of grief, rushed
+into the room.
+
+"It's all useless," cried Mordicai, turning his back upon the ladies:
+"these tricks upon creditors won't do with me; I'm used to these
+scenes; I'm not made of such stuff as you think. Leave a gentleman in
+peace in his last moments--No! he ought not, nor sha'n't die in peace,
+if he don't pay his debts; and if you are all so mighty sorry, ladies,
+there's the gentleman you may kneel to: if tenderness is the order of
+the day, it's for the son to show it, not me. Ay, now, Mr. Berryl,"
+cried he, as Mr. Berryl took up the bond to sign it, "you're beginning
+to know I'm not a fool to be trifled with. Stop your hand, if you
+choose it, sir,--it's all the same to me: the person, or the money,
+I'll carry with me out of this house."
+
+Mr. Berryl signed the bond, and threw it to him.
+
+"There, monster!--quit the house!"
+
+"_Monster_ is not actionable--I wish you had called me _knave_,"
+said Mordicai, grinning a horrible smile; and taking up the bond
+deliberately, returned it to Mr. Berryl: "This paper is worth nothing
+to me, sir--it is not witnessed."
+
+Mr. Berryl hastily left the room, and returned with Lord Colambre.
+Mordicai changed countenance and grew pale, for a moment, at sight of
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"Well, my lord, since it so happens, I am not sorry that you should be
+witness to this paper," said he; "and indeed not sorry that you should
+witness the whole proceedings; for I trust I shall be able to explain
+to you my conduct."
+
+"I do not come here, sir," interrupted Lord Colambre, "to listen to
+any explanations of your conduct, which I perfectly understand;--I
+come to witness a bond for my friend Mr. Berryl, if you think proper
+to extort from him such a bond."
+
+"I extort nothing, my lord. Mr. Berryl, it is quite a voluntary act,
+take notice, on your part; sign or not, witness or not, as you please,
+gentlemen," said Mordicai, sticking his hands in his pockets, and
+recovering his look of black and fixed determination.
+
+"Witness it, witness it, my dear lord," said Mr. Berryl, looking at
+his mother and weeping sisters; "witness it, quick!"
+
+"Mr. Berryl must just run over his name again in your presence,
+my lord, with a dry pen," said Mordicai, putting the pen into Mr.
+Berryl's hand.
+
+"No, sir," said Lord Colambre, "my friend shall never sign it."
+
+"As you please, my lord--the bond or the body, before I quit this
+house," said Mordicai.
+
+"Neither, sir, shall you have: and you quit this house directly."
+
+"How! how!--my lord, how's this?"
+
+"Sir, the arrest you have made is as illegal as it is inhuman."
+
+"Illegal, my lord!" said Mordicai, startled.
+
+"Illegal, sir. I came into this house at the moment when your bailiff
+asked and was refused admittance. Afterwards, in the confusion of the
+family above stairs, he forced open the house-door with an iron bar--I
+saw him--I am ready to give evidence of the fact. Now proceed at your
+peril."
+
+Mordicai, without reply, snatched up his hat, and walked towards the
+door; but Lord Colambre held the door open--it was immediately at the
+head of the stairs--and Mordicai, seeing his indignant look and proud
+form, hesitated to pass; for he had always heard that Irishmen are
+"quick in the executive part of justice."
+
+"Pass on, sir," repeated Lord Colambre, with an air of ineffable
+contempt: "I am a gentleman--you have nothing to fear!"
+
+Mordicai ran down stairs; Lord Colambre, before he went back into
+the room, waited to see him and his bailiff out of the house. When
+Mordicai was fairly at the bottom of the stairs, he turned, and, white
+with rage, looked up at Lord Colambre.
+
+"Charity begins at home, my lord," said he. "Look at home--you shall
+pay for this," added he, standing half-shielded by the house-door, for
+Lord Colambre moved forward as he spoke the last words; "and I give
+you this warning, because I know it will be of no use to you--Your
+most obedient, my lord." The house-door closed after him.
+
+"Thank Heaven," thought Lord Colambre, "that I did not horsewhip that
+mean wretch!--This warning shall be of use to me. But it is not time
+to think of that yet."
+
+Lord Colambre turned from his own affairs to those of his friend, to
+offer all the assistance and consolation in his power. Sir John Berryl
+died that night. His daughters, who had lived in the highest style in
+London, were left totally unprovided for. His widow had mortgaged her
+jointure. Mr. Berryl had an estate now left to him, but without any
+income. He could not be so dishonest as to refuse to pay his father's
+just debts; he could not let his mother and sisters starve. The scene
+of distress to which Lord Colambre was witness in this family made a
+still greater impression upon him than had been made by the warning or
+the threats of Mordicai. The similarity between the circumstances of
+his friend's family and of his own struck him forcibly.
+
+All this evil had arisen from Lady Berryl's passion for living
+in London and at watering places. She had made her husband an
+ABSENTEE--an absentee from his home, his affairs, his duties, and his
+estate. The sea, the Irish Channel, did not, indeed, flow between him
+and his estate; but it was of little importance whether the separation
+was effected by land or water--the consequences, the negligence, the
+extravagance, were the same.
+
+Of the few people of his age who are capable of benefiting by the
+experience of others, Lord Colambre was one. "Experience," as an
+elegant writer has observed, "is an article that may be borrowed with
+safety, and is often dearly bought."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+In the mean time, Lady Clonbrony had been occupied with thoughts very
+different from those which passed in the mind of her son. Though she
+had never completely recovered from her rheumatic pains, she had
+become inordinately impatient of confinement to her own house, and
+weary of those dull evenings at home, which had, in her son's absence,
+become insupportable. She told over her visiting tickets regularly
+twice a day, and gave to every card of invitation a heartfelt sigh.
+Miss Pratt alarmed her ladyship, by bringing intelligence of some
+parties given by persons of consequence, to which she was not invited.
+She feared that she should be forgotten in the world, well knowing
+how soon the world forgets those they do not see every day and every
+where. How miserable is the fine lady's lot, who cannot forget, and
+who is forgotten by the world in a moment! How much more miserable
+still is the condition of a would-be fine lady, working her way up in
+the world with care and pains! By her, every the slightest failure of
+attention, from persons of rank and fashion, is marked and felt with a
+jealous anxiety, and with a sense of mortification the most acute--an
+invitation omitted is a matter of the most serious consequence, not
+only as it regards the present but the future; for if she be not
+invited by Lady A, it will lower her in the eyes of Lady B, and of
+all the ladies in the alphabet. It will form a precedent of the most
+dangerous and inevitable application. If she have nine invitations,
+and the tenth be wanting, the nine have no power to make her happy.
+This was precisely Lady Clonbrony's case--there was to be a party at
+Lady St. James's, for which Lady Clonbrony had no card.
+
+"So ungrateful, so monstrous, of Lady St. James!--What! was the gala
+so soon forgotten, and all the marked attentions paid that night to
+Lady St. James!--attentions, you know, Pratt, which were looked upon
+with a jealous eye, and made me enemies enough, I am told, in another
+quarter!--Of all people, I did not expect to be slighted by Lady St.
+James!"
+
+Miss Pratt, who was ever ready to undertake the defence of any person
+who had a title, pleaded, in mitigation of censure that perhaps Lady
+St. James might not be aware that her ladyship was yet well enough to
+venture out.
+
+"Oh, my dear Miss Pratt, that cannot be the thing; for, in spite of my
+rheumatism, which really was bad enough last Sunday, I went on purpose
+to the Royal Chapel, to show myself in the closet, and knelt close to
+her ladyship.--And, my dear, we curtsied, and she congratulated me,
+after church, upon my being abroad again, and was so happy to see me
+look so well, and all that--Oh! it is something very extraordinary and
+unaccountable!"
+
+"But, I dare say, a card will come yet," said Miss Pratt.
+
+Upon this hint, Lady Clonbrony's hope revived; and, staying her anger,
+she began to consider how she could manage to get herself invited.
+Refreshing tickets were left next morning at Lady St. James's with
+their corners properly turned up; to do the thing better, separate
+tickets from herself and Miss Nugent were left for each member of the
+family; and her civil messages, left with the footmen, extended to the
+utmost possibility of remainder. It had occurred to her ladyship, that
+for Miss Somebody, _the companion_, of whom she had never in her life
+thought before, she had omitted to leave a card last time, and she
+now left a note of explanation; she farther, with her rheumatic head
+and arm out of the coach-window, sat, the wind blowing keen upon
+her, explaining to the porter and the footman, to discover whether
+her former tickets had gone safely up to Lady St. James; and on the
+present occasion, to make assurance doubly sure, she slid handsome
+expedition money into the servant's hand--"Sir, you will be sure to
+remember"--"Oh, certainly, your ladyship."
+
+She well knew what dire offence has frequently been taken, what sad
+disasters have occurred in the fashionable world, from the neglect of
+a porter in delivering, or of a footman in carrying up, one of those
+talismanic cards. But, in spite of all her manoeuvres, no invitation
+to the party arrived next day. Pratt was next set to work. Miss Pratt
+was a most convenient go-between, who, in consequence of doing a
+thousand little services, to which few others of her rank in life
+would stoop, had obtained the entree to a number of great houses, and
+was behind the scenes in many fashionable families. Pratt could find
+out, and Pratt could hint, and Pratt could manage to get things done
+cleverly--and hints were given, in all directions, to _work round_
+to Lady St. James. But still they did not take effect. At last Pratt
+suggested, that perhaps, though every thing else had failed, dried
+salmon might be tried with success. Lord Clonbrony had just had some
+uncommonly good from Ireland, which Pratt knew Lady St. James would
+like to have at her supper, because a certain personage, whom she
+would not name, was particularly fond of it--Wheel within wheel in
+the fine world, as well as in the political world!--Bribes for all
+occasions and for all ranks!--The timely present was sent, accepted
+with many thanks, and understood as it was meant. Per favour of this
+propitiatory offering, and of a promise of half a dozen pair of
+real Limerick gloves to Miss Pratt--a promise which Pratt clearly
+comprehended to be a conditional promise--the grand object was at
+length accomplished. The very day before the party was to take place
+came cards of invitation to Lady Clonbrony and to Miss Nugent, with
+Lady St. James's apologies: her ladyship was concerned to find that,
+by some negligence of her servants, these cards were not sent in
+proper time. "How slight an apology will do from some people!" thought
+Miss Nugent; "how eager to forgive, when it is for our interest or
+our pleasure! how well people act the being deceived, even when all
+parties know that they see the whole truth! and how low pride will
+stoop to gain its object!"
+
+Ashamed of the whole transaction, Miss Nugent earnestly wished that a
+refusal should be sent, and reminded her aunt of her rheumatism; but
+rheumatism and all other objections were overruled--Lady Clonbrony
+would go. It was just when this affair was thus, in her opinion,
+successfully settled, that Lord Colambre came in, with a countenance
+of unusual seriousness, his mind full of the melancholy scenes he had
+witnessed in his friend's family.
+
+"What is the matter, Colambre?"
+
+He related what had passed; he described the brutal conduct of
+Mordicai; the anguish of the mother and sisters; the distress of
+Mr. Berryl. Tears rolled down Miss Nugent's cheeks--Lady Clonbrony
+declared it was very _shocking_; listened with attention to all the
+particulars; but never failed to correct her son, whenever he said Mr.
+Berryl--
+
+"_Sir Arthur_ Berryl, you mean."
+
+She was, however, really touched with compassion when he spoke of Lady
+Berryl's destitute condition; and her son was going on to repeat what
+Mordicai had said to him, but Lady Clonbrony interrupted, "Oh, my dear
+Colambre! don't repeat that detestable man's impertinent speeches to
+me. If there is any thing really about business, speak to your father.
+At any rate don't tell us of it now, because I've a hundred things
+to do," said her ladyship, hurrying out of the room--"Grace, Grace
+Nugent! I want you!"
+
+Lord Colambre sighed deeply.
+
+"Don't despair," said Miss Nugent, as she followed to obey her aunt's
+summons. "Don't despair; don't attempt to speak to her again till
+to-morrow morning. Her head is now full of Lady St. James's party.
+When it is emptied of that, you will have a better chance. Never
+despair."
+
+"Never, while you encourage me to hope--that any good can be done."
+
+Lady Clonbrony was particularly glad that she had carried her point
+about this party at Lady St. James's; because, from the first private
+intimation that the Duchess of Torcaster was to be there, her ladyship
+flattered herself that the long-desired introduction might then be
+accomplished. But of this hope Lady St. James had likewise received
+intimation from the double-dealing Miss Pratt; and a warning note was
+despatched to the duchess to let her grace know that circumstances
+had occurred which had rendered it impossible not to _ask the
+Clonbronies_. An excuse, of course, for not going to this party, was
+sent by the duchess--her grace did not like large parties--she would
+have the pleasure of accepting Lady St. James's invitation for her
+select party on Wednesday, the 10th. Into these select parties Lady
+Clonbrony had never been admitted. In return for great entertainments
+she was invited to great entertainments, to large parties; but further
+she could never penetrate.
+
+At Lady St. James's, and with her set, Lady Clonbrony suffered a
+different kind of mortification from that which Lady Langdale and Mrs.
+Dareville made her endure. She was safe from the witty raillery,
+the sly inuendo, the insolent mimicry; but she was kept at a cold,
+impassable distance, by ceremony--"So far shalt thou go, and no
+further," was expressed in every look, in every word, and in a
+thousand different ways.
+
+By the most punctilious respect and nice regard to precedency, even
+by words of courtesy--"Your ladyship does me honour," &c.--Lady St.
+James contrived to mortify and to mark the difference between those
+with whom she was, and with whom she was not, upon terms of intimacy
+and equality. Thus the ancient grandees of Spain drew a line of
+demarcation between themselves and the newly created nobility.
+Whenever or wherever they met, they treated the new nobles with the
+utmost respect, never addressed them but with all their titles, with
+low bows, and with all the appearance of being, with the most perfect
+consideration, anything but their equals; whilst towards one another
+the grandees laid aside their state, and omitting their titles, it was
+"Alcala--Medina Sidonia--Infantado," and a freedom and familiarity
+which marked equality. Entrenched in etiquette in this manner, and
+mocked with marks of respect, it was impossible either to intrude or
+to complain of being excluded.
+
+At supper at Lady St. James's, Lady Clonbrony's present was pronounced
+by some gentlemen to be remarkably high flavoured. This observation
+turned the conversation to Irish commodities and Ireland. Lady
+Clonbrony, possessed by the idea that it was disadvantageous to appear
+as an Irishwoman or as a favourer of Ireland, began to be embarrassed
+by Lady St. James's repeated thanks. Had it been in her power to offer
+any thing else with propriety, she would not have thought of sending
+her ladyship any thing from Ireland. Vexed by the questions that were
+asked her about her _country_, Lady Clonbrony, as usual, denied it to
+be her country, and went on to depreciate and abuse every thing Irish;
+to declare that there was no possibility of living in Ireland; and
+that, for her own part, she was resolved never to return thither. Lady
+St. James, preserving perfect silence, let her go on. Lady Clonbrony
+imagining that this silence arose from coincidence of opinion,
+proceeded with all the eloquence she possessed, which was very little,
+repeating the same exclamations, and reiterating her vow of perpetual
+expatriation; till at last an elderly lady, who was a stranger to
+her, and whom she had till this moment scarcely noticed, took up the
+defence of Ireland with much warmth and energy: the eloquence with
+which she spoke, and the respect with which she was heard, astonished
+Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"Who is she?" whispered her ladyship.
+
+"Does not your ladyship know Lady Oranmore--the Irish Lady Oranmore?"
+
+"Lord bless me!--what have I said!--what have I done!--Oh! why did you
+not give me a hint, Lady St. James?"
+
+"I was not aware that your ladyship was not acquainted with Lady
+Oranmore," replied Lady St. James, unmoved by her distress.
+
+Every body sympathized with Lady Oranmore, and admired the honest zeal
+with which she abided by her country, and defended it against unjust
+aspersions and affected execrations. Every one present enjoyed Lady
+Clonbrony's confusion, except Miss Nugent, who sat with her eyes bowed
+down by penetrative shame during the whole of this scene: she was glad
+that Lord Colambre was not witness to it; and comforted herself with
+the hope that, upon the whole, Lady Clonbrony would be benefited by
+the pain she had felt. This instance might convince her that it was
+not necessary to deny her country to be received in any company in
+England; and that those who have the courage and steadiness to be
+themselves, and to support what they feel and believe to be the truth,
+must command respect. Miss Nugent hoped that in consequence of this
+conviction Lady Clonbrony would lay aside the little affectations by
+which her manners were painfully constrained and ridiculous; and,
+above all, she hoped that what Lady Oranmore had said of Ireland might
+dispose her aunt to listen with patience to all Lord Colambre might
+urge in favour of returning to her home. But Miss Nugent hoped in
+vain. Lady Clonbrony never in her life generalized any observations,
+or drew any but a partial conclusion from the most striking facts.
+
+"Lord! my dear Grace!" said she, as soon as they were seated in
+their carriage, "what a scrape I got into to-night at supper, and
+what disgrace I came to!--and all this because I did not know Lady
+Oranmore. Now you see the inconceivable disadvantage of not knowing
+every body--every body of a certain rank, of course, I mean."
+
+Miss Nugent endeavoured to slide in her own moral on the occasion, but
+it would not do.
+
+"Yes, my dear, Lady Oranmore may talk in that kind of style of
+Ireland, because, on the other hand, she is so highly connected in
+England; and, besides, she is an old lady, and may take liberties; in
+short, she is Lady Oranmore, and that's enough."
+
+The next morning, when they all met at breakfast, Lady Clonbrony
+complained bitterly of her increased rheumatism, of the disagreeable,
+stupid party they had had the preceding night, and of the necessity of
+going to another formal party to-morrow night, and the next, and the
+next night, and, in the true fine lady style, deplored her situation,
+and the impossibility of avoiding those things,
+
+  "Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel."
+
+Miss Nugent determined to retire as soon as she could from the
+breakfast-room, to leave Lord Colambre an opportunity of talking over
+his family affairs at full liberty. She knew by the seriousness of
+his countenance that his mind was intent upon doing so, and she hoped
+that his influence with his father and mother would not be exerted in
+vain. But just as she was rising from the breakfast-table, in came Sir
+Terence O'Fay, and seating himself quite at his ease, in spite of Lady
+Clonbrony's repulsive looks, his awe of Lord Colambre having now worn
+off, "I'm tired," said he, "and have a right to be tired; for it's no
+small walk I've taken for the good of this noble family this morning.
+And, Miss Nugent, before I say more, I'll take a cup of _ta_ from you,
+if you please."
+
+Lady Clonbrony rose, with great stateliness, and walked to the
+farthest end of the room, where she established herself at her
+writing-table, and began to write notes.
+
+Sir Terence wiped his forehead deliberately.--"Then I've had a fine
+run--Miss Nugent, I believe you never saw me run; but I can run, I
+promise you, when it's to serve a friend--And my lord (turning to
+Lord Clonbrony), what do you think I run for this morning--to buy a
+bargain--and of what?--a bargain of a bad debt--a debt of yours, which
+I bargained for, and up just in time--and Mordicai's ready to hang
+himself this minute--For what do you think that rascal was bringing
+upon you--but an execution?--he was."
+
+"An execution!" repeated every body present, except Lord Colambre.
+
+"And how has this been prevented, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh! let me alone for that," said Sir Terence. "I got a hint from
+my little friend, Paddy Brady, who would not be paid for it either,
+though he's as poor as a rat. Well! as soon as I got the hint, I
+dropped the thing I had in my hand, which was the Dublin Evening,
+and ran for the bare life--for there wasn't a coach--in my slippers,
+as I was, to get into the prior creditor's shoes, who is the little
+solicitor that lives in Crutched Friars, which Mordicai never dreamt
+of, luckily; so he was very genteel, though he was taken on a sudden,
+and from his breakfast, which an Englishman don't like particularly--I
+popped him a douceur of a draft, at thirty-one days, on Garraghty,
+the agent; of which he must get notice; but I won't descant on the
+law before the ladies--he handed me over his debt and execution, and
+he made me prior creditor in a trice. Then I took coach in state, the
+first I met, and away with me to Long Acre--saw Mordicai. 'Sir,' says
+I, 'I hear you're meditating an execution on a friend of mine.'--'Am
+I?' said the rascal; 'who told you so?'--'No matter,' said I; 'but
+I just called in to let you know there's no use in life of your
+execution; for there's a prior creditor with his execution to be
+satisfied first.' So he made a great many black faces, and said a
+great deal, which I never listened to, but came off here clean to tell
+you all the story."
+
+"Not one word of which do I understand," said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"Then, my dear, you are very ungrateful," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+Lord Colambre said nothing, for he wished to learn more of Sir Terence
+O'Fay's character, of the state of his father's affairs, and of the
+family methods of proceeding in matters of business.
+
+"Faith! Terry, I know I'm very thankful to you--But an execution's an
+ugly thing,--and I hope there's no danger."
+
+"Never fear!" said Sir Terence: "hav'n't I been at my wits' ends for
+myself or my friends ever since I come to man's estate--to years of
+discretion, I should say, for the deuce a foot of estate have I! But
+use has sharpened my wits pretty well for your service; so never be in
+dread, my good lord; for look ye!" cried the reckless knight, sticking
+his arms akimbo, "look ye here! in Sir Terence O'Fay stands a host
+that desires no better than to encounter, single-witted, all the duns
+in the united kingdoms, Mordicai the Jew inclusive."
+
+"Ah! that's the devil, that Mordicai," said Lord Clonbrony; "that's
+the only man on earth I dread."
+
+"Why, he is only a coachmaker, is not he?" said Lady Clonbrony: "I
+can't think how you can talk, my lord, of dreading such a low man.
+Tell him, if he's troublesome, we won't bespeak any more carriages;
+and, I'm sure, I wish you would not be so silly, my lord, to employ
+him any more, when you know he disappointed me the last birthday about
+the landau, which I have not got yet."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony; "you don't know what you are
+talking of--Terry, I say, even a friendly execution is an ugly thing."
+
+"Phoo! phoo!--an ugly thing!--So is a fit of the gout--but one's all
+the better for it after. 'Tis just a renewal of life, my, lord, for
+which one must pay a bit of a fine, you know. Take patience, and leave
+me to manage all properly--you know I'm used to these things: only you
+recollect, if you please, how I managed my friend Lord----it's bad to
+be mentioning names--but Lord _Every-body-knows-who_--didn't I bring
+him through cleverly, when there was that rascally attempt to seize
+the family plate? I had notice, and what did I do, but broke open
+a partition between that lord's house and my lodgings, which I had
+taken next door; and so, when the sheriffs officers were searching
+below on the ground floor, I just shoved the plate easy through to
+my bedchamber at a moment's warning, and then bid the gentlemen walk
+in, for they couldn't set a foot in my paradise, the devils!--So they
+stood looking at it through the wall, and cursing me, and I holding
+both my sides with laughter at their fallen faces."
+
+Sir Terence and Lord Clonbrony laughed in concert.
+
+"This is a good story," said Miss Nugent, smiling; "but surely, Sir
+Terence, such things are never done in real life?"
+
+"Done! ay, are they; and I could tell you a hundred better strokes, my
+dear Miss Nugent."
+
+"Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony, "do pray have the goodness to seal and
+send these notes; for really," whispered she, as her niece came to the
+table, "I _cawnt stee_, I _cawnt_ bear that man's _vice_, his accent
+grows horrider and horrider!"
+
+Her ladyship rose, and left the room.
+
+"Why, then," continued Sir Terence, following Miss Nugent to the
+table, where she was sealing letters--"I must tell you how I _sa_rved
+that same man on another occasion, and got the victory, too."
+
+No general officer could talk of his victories, or fight his battles
+o'er again, with more complacency than Sir Terence O'Fay recounted his
+_civil_ exploits.
+
+"Now I'll tell you, Miss Nugent. There was a footman in the family,
+not an Irishman, but one of your powdered English scoundrels that
+ladies are so fond of having hanging to the backs of their carriages;
+one Fleming he was, that turned spy, and traitor, and informer, went
+privately and gave notice to the creditors where the plate was hid
+in the thickness of the chimney; but if he did, what happened? Why,
+I had my counter-spy, an honest little Irish boy, in the creditor's
+shop, that I had secured with a little douceur of usquebaugh; and
+he outwitted, as was natural, the English lying valet, and gave us
+notice, just in the nick, and I got ready for their reception; and,
+Miss Nugent, I only wish you'd seen the excellent sport we had,
+letting them follow the scent they got; and when they were sure of
+their game, what did they find?--Ha! ha! ha!--dragged out, after a
+world of labour, a heavy box of--a load of brick-bats; not an item
+of my friend's plate, that was all snug in the coal-hole, where them
+dunces never thought of looking for it--Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+"But come, Terry," cried Lord Clonbrony, "I'll pull down your
+pride.--How finely, another time, your job of the false ceiling
+answered in the hall. I've heard that story, and have been told how
+the sheriff's fellow thrust his bayonet up through your false plaster,
+and down came tumbling the family plate--hey! Terry?--That hit cost
+your friend, Lord Every-body-knows-who, more than your head's worth,
+Terry."
+
+"I ask your pardon, my lord, it never cost him a farthing."
+
+"When he paid 7000_l._ for the plate, to redeem it?"
+
+"Well! and did not I make up for that at the races of ----? The
+creditors learned that my lord's horse, Naboclish, was to run at ----
+races; and, as the sheriff's officer knew he dare not touch him on the
+race-ground, what does he do, but he comes down early in the morning
+on the mail-coach, and walks straight down to the livery stables.
+He had an exact description of the stables, and the stall, and the
+horse's body clothes.
+
+"I was there, seeing the horse taken care of; and, knowing the cut
+of the fellow's jib, what does I do, but whips the body clothes off
+Naboclish, and claps them upon a garrone, that the priest would not
+ride.
+
+"In comes the bailiff--'Good morrow to you, sir,' says I, leading out
+of the stable my lord's horse, with an _ould_ saddle and bridle on.
+
+"'Tim Neal,' says I to the groom, who was rubbing down the garrone's
+heels, 'mind your hits to-day, and _wee'l_ wet the plate to-night."
+
+"'Not so fast, neither,' says the bailiff--'here's my writ for seizing
+the horse.'
+
+"'Och,' says I, 'you wouldn't be so cruel.'
+
+"'That's all my eye,' says he, seizing the garrone, while I mounted
+Naboclish, and rode him off deliberately."
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!--That _was_ neat, I grant you, Terry," said Lord
+Clonbrony. "But what a dolt of a born ignoramus must that sheriff's
+fellow have been, not to know Naboclish when he saw him!"
+
+"But stay, my lord--stay, Miss Nugent--I have more for you," following
+her wherever she moved--"I did not let him off so, even. At the cant,
+I bid and bid against them for the pretended Naboclish, till I left
+him on their hands for 500 guineas--ha! ha! ha!--was not that famous?"
+
+"But," said Miss Nugent, "I cannot believe you are in earnest, Sir
+Terence--Surely this would be--"
+
+"What?--out with it, my dear Miss Nugent."
+
+"I am afraid of offending you."
+
+"You can't, my dear, I defy you--say the word that came to the
+tongue's end; it's always the best."
+
+"I was going to say, swindling," said the young lady, colouring
+deeply.
+
+"Oh, you was going to say wrong, then! It's not called swindling
+amongst gentlemen who know the world--it's only jockeying--fine
+sport--and very honourable to help a friend at a dead lift. Any thing
+to help a friend out of a present pressing difficulty."
+
+"And when the present difficulty is over, do your friends never think
+of the future?"
+
+"The future! leave the future to posterity," said Sir Terence; "I'm
+counsel only for the present; and when the evil comes, it's time
+enough to think of it. I can't bring the guns of my wits to bear till
+the enemy's alongside of me, or within sight of me at the least. And
+besides, there never was a good commander yet, by sea or land, that
+would tell his little expedients beforehand, or before the very day of
+battle."
+
+"It must be a sad thing," said Miss Nugent, sighing deeply, "to be
+reduced to live by little expedients--daily expedients."
+
+Lord Colambre struck his forehead, but said nothing.
+
+"But if you are beating your brains about your own affairs, my Lord
+Colambre, my dear," said Sir Terence, "there's an easy way of settling
+your family affairs at once; and since you don't like little daily
+expedients, Miss Nugent, there's one great expedient, and an expedient
+for life, that will settle it all to your satisfaction--and ours. I
+hinted it delicately to you before; but, between friends, delicacy is
+impertinent; so I tell you, in plain English, you've nothing to do but
+go and propose yourself, just as you stand, to the heiress Miss B----,
+that desires no better--"
+
+"Sir!" cried Lord Colambre, stepping forward, red with sudden anger.
+
+Miss Nugent laid her hand upon his arm. "Oh, my lord!"
+
+"Sir Terence O'Fay," continued Lord Colambre, in a moderated tone,
+"you are wrong to mention that young lady's name in such a manner."
+
+"Why then I said only Miss B----, and there are a whole hive of
+_bees_. But I'll engage she'd thank me for what I suggested, and think
+herself the queen bee if my expedient was adopted by you."
+
+"Sir Terence," said his lordship, smiling, "if my father thinks proper
+that you should manage his affairs, and devise expedients for him, I
+have nothing to say on that point; but I must beg you will not trouble
+yourself to suggest expedients for me, and that you will have the
+goodness to leave me to settle my own affairs."
+
+Sir Terence made a low bow, and was silent for five seconds; then
+turning to Lord Clonbrony, who looked much more abashed than he
+did, "By the wise one, my good lord, I believe there are some
+men--noblemen, too--that don't know their friends from their enemies.
+It's my firm persuasion, now, that if I had served you as I served my
+friend I was talking of, your son there would, ten to one, think I had
+done him an injury by saving the family plate."
+
+"I certainly should, sir. The family plate, sir, is not the first
+object in my mind," replied Lord Colambre; "family honour--Nay, Miss
+Nugent, I must speak," continued his lordship; perceiving, by her
+countenance, that she was alarmed.
+
+"Never fear, Miss Nugent, dear," said Sir Terence; "I'm as cool as
+a cucumber.--Faith! then, my Lord Colambre, I agree with you, that
+family honour's a mighty fine thing, only troublesome to one's self
+and one's friends, and expensive to keep up with all the other
+expenses and debts a gentleman has now-a-days. So I, that am under no
+natural obligations to it by birth or otherwise, have just stood by it
+through life, and asked myself, before I would volunteer being bound
+to it, what could this same family honour do for a man in this world?
+And, first and foremost, I never remember to see family honour stand
+a man in much stead in a court of law--never saw family honour stand
+against an execution, or a custodiam, or an injunction even.--'Tis
+a rare thing, this same family honour, and a very fine thing; but I
+never knew it yet, at a pinch, pay for a pair of boots even," added
+Sir Terence, drawing up his own with much complacency.
+
+At this moment, Sir Terence was called out of the room by one who
+wanted to speak to him on particular business.
+
+"My dear father," cried Lord Colambre, "do not follow him; stay, for
+one moment, and hear your son, your true friend."
+
+Miss Nugent left the room.
+
+"Hear your natural friend for one moment," cried Lord Colambre. "Let
+me beseech you, father, not to have recourse to any of these paltry
+expedients, but trust your son with the state of your affairs, and we
+shall find some honourable means--"
+
+"Yes, yes, yes, very true; when you're of age, Colambre, we'll talk of
+it; but nothing can be done till then. We shall get on, we shall get
+through, very well, till then, with Terry's assistance; and I must beg
+you will not say a word more against Terry--I can't bear it--I can't
+bear it--I can't do without him. Pray don't detain me--I can say no
+more--except," added he, returning to his usual concluding sentence,
+"that there need, at all events, be none of this, if people would but
+live upon their own estates, and kill their own mutton." He stole
+out of the room, glad to escape, however shabbily, from present
+explanation and present pain. There are persons without resource, who,
+in difficulties, return always to the same point, and usually to the
+same words.
+
+While Lord Colambre was walking up and down the room, much vexed
+and disappointed at finding that he could make no impression on his
+father's mind, nor obtain his confidence, Lady Clonbrony's woman, Mrs.
+Petito, knocked at the door, with a message from her lady, to beg, if
+Lord Colambre was _by himself_, he would go to her dressing-room, as
+she wished to have a conference with him. He obeyed her summons.
+
+"Sit down, my dear Colambre--" And she began precisely with her old
+sentence--"With the fortune I brought your father, and with my lord's
+estate, I _cawnt_ understand the meaning of all these pecuniary
+difficulties; and all that strange creature Sir Terence says is
+algebra to me, who speak English. And I am particularly sorry he was
+let in this morning--but he's such a brute that he does not think any
+thing of forcing one's door, and he tells my footman he does not mind
+_not at home_ a pinch of snuff. Now what can you do with a man who
+could say that sort of thing, you know?--the world's at an end."
+
+"I wish my father had nothing to do with him, ma'am, as much as you
+can wish it," said Lord Colambre; "but I have said all that a son can
+say, and without effect."
+
+"What particularly provokes me against him," continued Lady Clonbrony,
+"is what I have just heard from Grace, who was really hurt by it, too,
+for she is the warmest friend in the world: I allude to the creature's
+indelicate way of touching upon a tender _pint_, and mentioning an
+amiable young heiress's name. My dear Colambre, I trust you have given
+me credit for my inviolable silence all this time, upon the _pint_
+nearest my heart. I am rejoiced to hear you _was_ so warm when she
+was mentioned inadvertently by that brute, and I trust you now see
+the advantages of the projected union in as strong and agreeable a
+_pint_ of view as I do, my own Colambre; and I should leave things to
+themselves, and let you prolong the _dees_ of courtship as you please,
+only for what I now hear incidentally from my lord and the brute,
+about pecuniary embarrassments, and the necessity of something being
+done before next winter. And, indeed, I think now, in propriety, the
+proposal cannot be delayed much longer; for the world begins to talk
+of the thing as done; and even Mrs. Broadhurst, I know, had no doubt
+that, if this _contretemps_ about the poor Berryls had not occurred,
+your proposal would have been made before the end of last week."
+
+Our hero was not a man to make a proposal because Mrs. Broadhurst
+expected it, or to marry because the world said he was going to be
+married. He steadily said, that, from the first moment the subject had
+been mentioned, he had explained himself distinctly; that the young
+lady's friends could not, therefore, be under any doubt as to his
+intentions; that, if they had voluntarily deceived themselves, or
+exposed the lady in situations from which the world was led to make
+false conclusions, he was not answerable: he felt his conscience at
+ease--entirely so, as he was convinced that the young lady herself,
+for whose merit, talents, independence, and generosity of character he
+professed high respect, esteem, and admiration, had no doubts either
+of the extent or the nature of his regard.
+
+"Regard, respect, esteem, admiration!--Why, my dearest Colambre! this
+is saying all I want; satisfies me, and I am sure would satisfy Mrs.
+Broadhurst, and Miss Broadhurst too."
+
+"No doubt it will, ma'am: but not if I aspired to the honour of Miss
+Broadhurst's hand, or professed myself her lover."
+
+"My dear, you are mistaken: Miss Broadhurst is too sensible a girl,
+a vast deal, to look for love, and a dying lover, and all that sort
+of stuff: I am persuaded--indeed I have it from good, from the best
+authority, that the young lady--you know one must be delicate in these
+cases, where a young lady of such fortune, and no despicable family
+too, is concerned; therefore I cannot speak quite plainly--but I say
+I have it from the best authority, that you would be preferred to any
+other suitor, and, in short, that--"
+
+"I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you," cried Lord Colambre,
+colouring a good deal; "but you must excuse me if I say, that the only
+authority on which I could believe this is one from which I am morally
+certain I shall never hear it--from Miss Broadhurst herself."
+
+"Lord, child! if you only ask her the question, she would tell you it
+is truth, I dare say."
+
+"But as I have no curiosity on the subject, ma'am--"
+
+"Lord bless me! I thought everybody had curiosity. But still, without
+curiosity, I am sure it would gratify you when you did hear it; and
+can't you just put the simple question?"
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Impossible!--now that is so very provoking when the thing is all but
+done. Well, take your own time; all I will ask of you then is, to let
+things go on as they are going--smoothly and pleasantly; and I'll
+not press you further on the subject at present. Let things go on
+smoothly, that's all I ask, and say nothing."
+
+"I wish I could oblige you, mother; but I cannot do this. Since you
+tell me that the world and Miss Broadhurst's friends have already
+misunderstood my intentions, it becomes necessary, in justice to
+the young lady and to myself, that I should make all further doubt
+impossible--I shall, therefore, put an end to it at once, by leaving
+town to-morrow."
+
+Lady Clonbrony, breathless for a moment with surprise, exclaimed,
+"Bless me! leave town to-morrow! Just at the beginning of the season!
+Impossible!--I never saw such a precipitate rash young man. But stay
+only a few weeks, Colambre; the physicians advise Buxton for my
+rheumatism, and you shall take us to Buxton early in the season--you
+cannot refuse me that. Why, if Miss Broadhurst was a dragon, you could
+not be in a greater hurry to run away from her. What are you afraid
+of?"
+
+"Of doing what is wrong--the only thing, I trust, of which I shall
+ever be afraid."
+
+Lady Clonbrony tried persuasion and argument--such argument as she
+could use--but all in vain--Lord Colambre was firm in his resolution;
+at last, she came to tears; and her son, in much agitation, said, "I
+cannot bear this, mother!--I would do any thing you ask, that I could
+do with honour; but this is impossible."
+
+"Why impossible? I will take all blame upon myself; and you are sure
+that Miss Broadhurst does not misunderstand you, and you esteem her,
+and admire her, and all that; and all I ask; is, that you'll go on as
+you are, and see more of her; and how do you know but you may fall in
+love with her, as you call it, to-morrow?"
+
+"Because, madam, since you press me so far, my affections are engaged
+to another person. Do not look so dreadfully shocked, my dear
+mother--I have told you truly, that I think myself too young, much too
+young, yet to marry. In the circumstances in which I know my family
+are, it is probable that I shall not for some years be able to marry
+as I wish. You may depend upon it that I shall not take any step, I
+shall not even declare my attachment to the object of my affection,
+without your knowledge; and, far from being inclined headlong to
+follow my own passions--strong as they are--be assured that the honour
+of my family, your happiness, my mother, my father's, are my first
+objects: I shall never think of my own till these are secured."
+
+Of the conclusion of this speech, Lady Clonbrony heard only the
+sound of the words; from the moment her son had pronounced that his
+affections were engaged, she had been running over in her head every
+probable and improbable person she could think of; at last, suddenly
+starting up, she opened one of the folding-doors into the next
+apartment, and called, "Grace!--Grace Nugent!--put down your pencil,
+Grace, this minute, and come here!"
+
+Miss Nugent obeyed with her usual alacrity; and the moment she entered
+the room, Lady Clonbrony, fixing her eyes full upon her, said,
+"There's your cousin Colambre tells me his affections are engaged."
+
+"Yes, to Miss Broadhurst, no doubt," said Miss Nugent, smiling, with a
+simplicity and openness of countenance, which assured Lady Clonbrony
+that all was safe in that quarter: a suspicion which had darted into
+her mind was dispelled.
+
+"No doubt--Ay, do you hear that _no doubt_, Colambre?--Grace, you see,
+has no doubt; nobody has any doubt but yourself, Colambre."
+
+"And are your affections engaged, and not to Miss Broadhurst?" said
+Miss Nugent, approaching Lord Colambre.
+
+"There now! you see how you surprise and disappoint every body,
+Colambre."
+
+"I am sorry that Miss Nugent should be disappointed," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"But because I am disappointed, pray do not call me Miss Nugent, or
+turn away from me, as if you were displeased."
+
+"It must, then, be some Cambridgeshire lady," said Lady Clonbrony. "I
+am sure I am very sorry he ever went to Cambridge--Oxford I advised:
+one of the Miss Berryls, I presume, who have nothing. I'll have no
+more to do with those Berryls--there was the reason of the son's vast
+intimacy. Grace, you may give up all thoughts of Sir Arthur."
+
+"I have no thoughts to give up, ma'am," said Miss Nugent, smiling.
+"Miss Broadhurst," continued she, going on eagerly with what she was
+saying to Lord Colambre, "Miss Broadhurst is my friend, a friend I
+love and admire; but you will allow that I strictly kept my promise,
+never to praise her to you, till you should begin to praise her to me.
+Now recollect, last night, you did praise her to me, so justly, that
+I thought you liked her, I confess; so that it is natural I should
+feel a little disappointed. Now you know the whole of my mind; I have
+no intention to encroach on your confidence; therefore, there is no
+occasion to look so embarrassed. I give you my word, I will never
+speak to you again upon the subject," said she, holding out her hand
+to him, "provided you will never again call me Miss Nugent. Am I not
+your own cousin Grace?--Do not be displeased with her."
+
+"You are my own dear cousin Grace; and nothing can be farther from my
+mind than any thought of being displeased with her; especially just at
+this moment, when I am going away, probably, for a considerable time."
+
+"Away!--when?--where?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, for Ireland."
+
+"Ireland! of all places," cried Lady Clonbrony. "What upon earth puts
+it into your head to go to Ireland? You do very well to go out of the
+way of falling in love ridiculously, since that is the reason of your
+going; but what put Ireland into your head, child?"
+
+"I will not presume to ask my mother what put Ireland out of her
+head," said Lord Colambre, smiling; "but she will recollect that it is
+my native country."
+
+"That was your father's fault, not mine," said Lady Clonbrony; "for
+I wished to have been confined in England: but he would have it to
+say that his son and heir was born at Clonbrony Castle--and there was
+a great argument between him and my uncle, and something about the
+Prince of Wales and Caernarvon Castle was thrown in, and that turned
+the scale, much against my will; for it was my wish that my son should
+be an Englishman born--like myself. But, after all, I don't see that
+having the misfortune to be born in a country should tie one to it in
+any sort of way; and I should have hoped your English _edication_,
+Colambre, would have given you too liberal _idears_ for that--so I
+_reely_ don't see why you should go to Ireland merely because it's
+your native country."
+
+"Not merely because it is my native country--but I wish to go
+thither--I desire to become acquainted with it--because it is the
+country in which my father's property lies, and from which we draw our
+subsistence."
+
+"Subsistence! Lord bless me, what a word! fitter for a pauper than
+a nobleman--subsistence! Then, if you are going to look after your
+father's property, I hope you will make the agents do their duty, and
+send us remittances. And pray how long do you mean to stay?"
+
+"Till I am of age, madam, if you have no objection. I will spend the
+ensuing months in travelling in Ireland; and I will return here by the
+time I am of age, unless you and my father should, before that time,
+be in Ireland."
+
+"Not the least chance of that, if I can prevent it, I promise you,"
+said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent sighed.
+
+"And I am sure I shall take it very unkindly of you, Colambre, if you
+go and turn out a partisan for Ireland, after all, like Grace Nugent."
+
+"A partisan! no;--I hope not a partisan, but a friend," said Miss
+Nugent.
+
+"Nonsense, child!--I hate to hear people, women especially, and young
+ladies particularly, talk of being friends to this country or that
+country. What can they know about countries? Better think of being
+friends to themselves, and friends to their friends."
+
+"I was wrong," said Miss Nugent, "to call myself a friend to Ireland;
+I meant to say, that Ireland had been a friend to me: that I found
+Irish friends, when I had no others; an Irish home, when I had no
+other; that my earliest and happiest years, under your kind care, had
+been spent there; and I can never forget _that_, my dear aunt--I hope
+you do not wish that I should."
+
+"Heaven forbid, my sweet Grace!" said Lady Clonbrony, touched by her
+voice and manner; "Heaven forbid! I don't wish you to do or be any
+thing but what you are; for I am convinced there's nothing I could ask
+you would not do for me: and, I can tell you, there's few things you
+could ask, love, I would not do for you."
+
+A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.
+
+Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the wishes
+of others, understood and answered before she ventured to make her
+request in words.
+
+"Ask any thing but _that_, Grace--Return to Clonbrony, while I am able
+to live in London? That I never can or will do for you or any body!"
+looking at her son in all the pride of obstinacy: "so there is an end
+of the matter. Go you where you please, Colambre; and I shall stay
+where I please:--I suppose, as your mother, I have a right to say this
+much?"
+
+Her son, with the utmost respect, assured her that he had no design to
+infringe upon her undoubted liberty of judging for herself; that he
+had never interfered, except so far as to tell her circumstances of
+her affairs with which she seemed to be totally unacquainted, and of
+which it might he dangerous to her to continue in ignorance.
+
+"Don't talk to me about affairs," cried she, drawing her hand away
+from her son. "Talk to my lord, or my lord's agents, since you are
+going to Ireland about business--I know nothing about business; but
+this I know, I shall stay in England, and be in London, every season,
+as long as I can afford it; and when I cannot afford to live here, I
+hope I shall not live any where. That's my notion of life; and that's
+my determination, once for all; for, if none of the rest of the
+Clonbrony family have any, I thank Heaven I have some spirit." Saying
+this, in her most stately manner she walked out of the room. Lord
+Colambre instantly followed her: for after the resolution and the
+promise he had made, he did not dare to trust himself at this moment
+with Miss Nugent.
+
+There was to be a concert this night at Lady Clonbrony's, at which
+Mrs. and Miss Broadhurst were of course expected. That they might not
+he quite unprepared for the event of her son's going to Ireland, Lady
+Clonbrony wrote a note to Mrs. Broadhurst, begging her to come half
+an hour earlier than the time mentioned in the cards, "that she might
+talk over something _particular_ that had just occurred."
+
+What passed at this cabinet council, as it seems to have had no
+immediate influence on affairs, we need not record. Suffice it
+to observe, that a great deal was said, and nothing done. Miss
+Broadhurst, however, was not a young lady who could easily be
+deceived, even where her passions were concerned. The moment her
+mother told her of Lord Colambre's intended departure, she saw the
+whole truth. She had a strong mind, capable of looking steadily at
+truth. Surrounded as she had been from her childhood by every means
+of self-indulgence which wealth and flattery could bestow, she had
+discovered early what few persons in her situation discover till late
+in life, that selfish gratifications may render us incapable of other
+happiness, but can never, of themselves, make us happy. Despising
+flatterers, she had determined to make herself friends--to make them
+in the only possible way--by deserving them. Her father realized
+his immense fortune by the power and habit of constant, bold, and
+just calculation. The power and habit which she had learned from
+him she applied on a far larger scale: with him it was confined to
+speculations for the acquisition of money; with her, it extended to
+the attainment of happiness. He was calculating and mercenary: she was
+estimative and generous.
+
+Miss Nugent was dressing for the concert, or rather was sitting
+half-dressed before her glass, reflecting, when Miss Broadhurst came
+into her room. Miss Nugent immediately sent her maid out of the room.
+
+"Grace," said Miss Broadhurst, looking at Grace with an air of open
+deliberate composure, "you and I are thinking of the same thing--of
+the same person."
+
+"Yes, of Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent, ingenuously and
+sorrowfully.
+
+"Then I can put your mind at ease, at once, my dear friend, by
+assuring you that I shall think of him no more. That I have thought
+of him, I do not deny--I have thought, that if, notwithstanding the
+difference in our ages and other differences, he had preferred me, I
+should have preferred him to any person who has ever yet addressed
+me. On our first acquaintance, I clearly saw that he was not disposed
+to pay court to my fortune; and I had also then coolness of judgment
+sufficient to perceive that it was not probable he should fall in
+love with my person. But I was too proud in my humility, too strong
+in my honesty, too brave, too ignorant; in short, I knew nothing of
+the matter. We are all of us, more or less, subject to the delusions
+of vanity, or hope, or love--I--even I!--who thought myself so
+clear-sighted, did not know how, with one flutter of his wings, Cupid
+can set the whole atmosphere in motion; change the proportions, size,
+colour, value, of every object; lead us into a _mirage_, and leave us
+in a dismal desert."
+
+"My dearest friend!" said Miss Nugent in a tone of true sympathy.
+
+"But none but a coward or a fool would sit down in the desert and
+weep, instead of trying to make his way back before the storm rises,
+obliterates the track, and overwhelms every thing. Poetry apart, my
+dear Grace, you may be assured that I shall think no more of Lord
+Colambre."
+
+"I believe you are right. But I am sorry, very sorry, it must be so."
+
+"Oh, spare me your sorrow!"
+
+"My sorrow is for Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent. "Where will he
+find such a wife?--Not in Miss Berryl, I am sure, pretty as she is; a
+mere fine lady!--Is it possible that Lord Colambre should prefer such
+a girl--Lord Colambre!"
+
+Miss Broadhurst looked at her friend as she spoke, and saw truth in
+her eyes; saw that she had no suspicion that she was herself the
+person beloved.
+
+"Tell me, Grace, are you sorry that Lord Colambre is going away?"
+
+"No, I am glad. I was sorry when I first heard it; but now I am glad,
+very glad: it may save him from a marriage unworthy of him, restore
+him to himself, and reserve him for--, the only woman I ever saw who
+is suited to him, who is equal to him, who would value and love him as
+he deserves to be valued and loved."
+
+"Stop, my dear; if you mean me, I am not, and I never can be, that
+woman. Therefore, as you are my friend, and wish my happiness, as I
+sincerely believe you do, never, I conjure you, present such an idea
+before my mind again--it is out of my mind, I hope, for ever. It is
+important to me that you should know and believe this. At least I
+will preserve my friends. Now let this subject never be mentioned
+or alluded to again between us, my dear. We have subjects enough of
+conversation; we need not have recourse to pernicious sentimental
+gossipings. There is great difference between wanting _a confidante_,
+and treating a friend with confidence. My confidence you possess; all
+that ought, all that is to be known of my mind, you know, and--Now I
+will leave you in peace to dress for the concert."
+
+"Oh, don't go! you don't interrupt me. I shall be dressed in a few
+minutes; stay with me, and you may be assured, that neither now,
+nor at any other time, shall I ever speak to you on the subject you
+desire me to avoid. I entirely agree with you about _confidantes_ and
+sentimental gossipings: I love you for not loving them."
+
+A loud knock at the door announced the arrival of company.
+
+"Think no more of love, but as much as you please of admiration--dress
+yourself as fast as you can," said Miss Broadhurst. "Dress, dress, is
+the order of the day."
+
+"Order of the day and order of the night, and all for people I don't
+care for in the least," said Grace. "So life passes!"
+
+"Dear me, Miss Nugent," cried Petito, Lady Clonbrony's woman, coming
+in with a face of alarm, "not dressed yet! My lady is gone down, and
+Mrs. Broadhurst and my Lady Pococke's come, and the Honourable Mrs.
+Trembleham; and signor, the Italian singing gentleman, has been
+walking up and down the apartments there by himself, disconsolate,
+this half hour. Oh, merciful! Miss Nugent, if you could stand still
+for one single particle of a second. So then I thought of stepping in
+to Miss Nugent; for the young ladies are talking so fast, says I to
+myself, at the door, they will never know how time goes, unless I give
+'em a hint. But now my lady is below, there's no need, to be sure,
+to be nervous, so we may take the thing quietly, without being in a
+flustrum. Dear ladies, is not this now a very sudden motion of our
+young lord's for Ireland? Lud a mercy! Miss Nugent, I'm sure your
+motions is sudden enough; and your dress behind is all, I'm sure, I
+can't tell how."
+
+"Oh, never mind," said the young lady, escaping from her; "it will do
+very well, thank you, Petito."
+
+"It will do very well, never mind," repeated Petito, muttering
+to herself, as she looked after the ladies, whilst they ran down
+stairs. "I can't abide to dress any young lady who says never
+mind, and it will do very well. That, and her never talking to one
+confi_dan_tially, or trusting one with the least bit of her secrets,
+is the thing I can't put up with from Miss Nugent; and Miss Broadhurst
+holding the pins to me, as much as to say, do your business, Petito,
+and don't talk.--Now, that's so impertinent, as if one wasn't the same
+flesh and blood, and had not as good a right to talk of every thing,
+and hear of every thing, as themselves. And Mrs. Broadhurst, too,
+cabinet-councilling with my lady, and pursing up her city mouth, when
+I come in, and turning off the discourse to snuff, forsooth; as if I
+was an ignoramus, to think they closeted themselves to talk of snuff.
+Now, I think a lady of quality's woman has as good a right to be
+trusted with her lady's secrets as with her jewels; and if my Lady
+Clonbrony was a real lady of quality, she'd know that, and consider
+the one as much my paraphernalia as the other. So I shall tell my lady
+to-night, as I always do when she vexes me, that I never lived in an
+Irish family before, and don't know the ways of it--then she'll tell
+me she was born in Hoxfordshire--then I shall say, with my saucy look,
+'Oh, was you, my lady--I always forget that you was an Englishwoman:'
+then may be she'll say, 'Forget! you forget yourself strangely,
+Petito.' Then I shall say, with a great deal of dignity, 'If your
+ladyship thinks so, my lady, I'd better go.' And I'd desire no better
+than that she would take me at my word; for my Lady Dashfort's is a
+much better place, I'm told, and she's dying to have me, I know."
+
+And having formed this resolution, Petito concluded her apparently
+interminable soliloquy, and went with my lord's gentleman into the
+antechamber, to hear the concert, and give her judgment on every
+thing: as she peeped in through the vista of heads into the Apollo
+saloon--for to-night the Alhambra was transformed into the Apollo
+saloon--she saw that whilst the company, rank behind rank, in close
+semicircles, had crowded round the performers to hear a favourite
+singer, Miss Broadhurst and Lord Colambre were standing in the outer
+semicircle, talking to one another earnestly. Now would Petito have
+given up her reversionary chance of the three nearly new gowns she
+expected from Lady Clonbrony, in case she stayed; or, in case she
+went, the reversionary chance of any dress of Lady Dashfort's, except
+her scarlet velvet, merely to hear what Miss Broadhurst and Lord
+Colambre were saying. Alas! she could only see their lips move; and
+of what they were talking, whether of music or love, and whether
+the match was to be on or off, she could only conjecture. But the
+diplomatic style having now descended to waiting-maids, Mrs. Petito
+talked to her friends in the antechamber with as mysterious and
+consequential an air and tone as a charge d'affaires, or as the
+lady of a charge d'affaires, could have assumed. She spoke of her
+_private belief_; of _the impression left upon her mind_; and her
+_confidential_ reasons for thinking as she did; of her "having had it
+from the _fountain's_ head;" and of "her fear of any _committal_ of
+her authorities."
+
+Notwithstanding all these authorities, Lord Colambre left London next
+day, and pursued his way to Ireland, determined that he would see and
+judge of that country for himself, and decide whether his mother's
+dislike to residing there was founded on caprice or on reasonable
+causes.
+
+In the mean time, it was reported in London that his lordship was
+gone to Ireland to make out the title to some estate, which would be
+necessary for his marriage settlement with the great heiress, Miss
+Broadhurst. Whether Mrs. Petito or Sir Terence O'Fay had the greater
+share in raising and spreading this report, it would be difficult to
+determine; but it is certain, however or by whomsoever raised, it was
+most useful to Lord Clonbrony, by keeping his creditors quiet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+The tide did not permit the packet to reach the Pigeon-house, and the
+impatient Lord Colambre stepped into a boat, and was rowed across the
+Bay of Dublin. It was a fine summer morning. The sun shone bright on
+the Wicklow mountains. He admired, he exulted in the beauty of the
+prospect; and all the early associations of his childhood, and the
+patriotic hopes of his riper years, swelled his heart as he approached
+the shores of his native land. But scarcely had he touched his mother
+earth, when the whole course of his ideas was changed; and if his
+heart swelled, it swelled no more with pleasurable sensations, for
+instantly he found himself surrounded and attacked by a swarm of
+beggars and harpies, with strange figures and stranger tones; some
+craving his charity, some snatching away his luggage, and at the same
+time bidding him "never trouble himself," and "never fear." A scramble
+in the boat and on shore for bags and parcels began, and an amphibious
+fight betwixt men, who had one foot on sea and one on land, was seen;
+and long and loud the battle of trunks and portmanteaus raged! The
+vanquished departed, clinching their empty hands at their opponents,
+and swearing inextinguishable hatred; while the smiling victors stood
+at ease, each grasping his booty--bag, basket, parcel, or portmanteau:
+"And, your honour, where _will_ these go?--Where _will_ we carry 'em
+all to for your honour?" was now the question. Without waiting for
+an answer, most of the goods were carried at the discretion of the
+porters to the custom-house, where, to his lordship's astonishment,
+after this scene of confusion, he found that he had lost nothing but
+his patience; all his goods were safe, and a few _tinpennies_ made
+his officious porters happy men and boys; blessings were showered
+upon his honour, and he was left in peace at an excellent hotel, in
+---- street, Dublin. He rested, refreshed himself, recovered his
+good-humour, and walked into the coffee-house, where he found several
+officers, English, Irish, and Scotch. One English officer, a very
+gentlemanlike, sensible-looking man, of middle age, was sitting
+reading a little pamphlet, when Lord Colambre entered: he looked
+up from time to time, and in a few minutes rose and joined the
+conversation; it turned upon the beauties and defects of the city of
+Dublin. Sir James Brooke (for that was the name of the gentleman)
+showed one of his brother officers the book which he had been reading,
+observing that, in his opinion, it contained one of the best views
+of Dublin which he had ever seen, evidently drawn by the hand of a
+master, though in a slight, playful, and ironical style: it was "An
+intercepted Letter from China." The conversation extended from Dublin
+to various parts of Ireland, with all which Sir James Brooke showed
+that he was well acquainted. Observing that this conversation was
+particularly interesting to Lord Colambre, and quickly perceiving
+that he was speaking to one not ignorant of books, Sir James spoke of
+different representations and misrepresentations of Ireland. In answer
+to Lord Colambre's inquiries, he named the works which had afforded
+him the most satisfaction; and with discriminative, not superficial
+celerity, touched on all ancient and modern authors on this subject,
+from Spenser and Davies to Young and Beaufort. Lord Colambre became
+anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a gentleman who appeared
+so able and willing to afford him information. Sir James Brooke, on
+his part, was flattered by this eagerness of attention, and pleased
+by our hero's manners and conversation: so that, to their mutual
+satisfaction, they spent much of their time together whilst they were
+at this hotel; and meeting frequently in society in Dublin, their
+acquaintance every day increased and grew into intimacy; an intimacy
+which was highly advantageous to Lord Colambre's views of obtaining a
+just idea of the state of manners in Ireland. Sir James Brooke had at
+different periods been quartered in various parts of the country--had
+resided long enough in each to become familiar with the people, and
+had varied his residence sufficiently to form comparisons between
+different counties, their habits, and characteristics. Hence he had it
+in his power to direct the attention of our young observer at once to
+the points most worthy of his examination, and to save him from the
+common error of travellers--the deducing general conclusions from a
+few particular cases, or arguing from exceptions, as if they were
+rules. Lord Colambre, from his family connexions, had of course
+immediate introduction into the best society in Dublin, or rather into
+all the good society of Dublin. In Dublin there is positively good
+company, and positively bad; but not, as in London, many degrees of
+comparison: not innumerable luminaries of the polite world, moving in
+different orbits of fashion; but all the bright planets of note and
+name move and revolve in the same narrow limits. Lord Colambre did
+not find that either his father's or his mother's representations of
+society resembled the reality which he now beheld. Lady Clonbrony had,
+in terms of detestation, described Dublin such as it appeared to her
+soon after the Union; Lord Clonbrony had painted it with convivial
+enthusiasm, such as he saw it long and long before the Union, when
+_first_ he drank claret at the fashionable clubs. This picture,
+unchanged in his memory, and unchangeable by his imagination, had
+remained, and ever would remain, the same. The hospitality of which
+the father boasted, the son found in all its warmth, but meliorated
+and refined; less convivial, more social; the fashion of hospitality
+had improved. To make the stranger eat or drink to excess, to set
+before him old wine and old plate, was no longer the sum of good
+breeding. The guest now escaped the pomp of grand entertainments;
+was allowed to enjoy ease and conversation, and to taste some of
+that feast of reason and that flow of soul so often talked of, and
+so seldom enjoyed. Lord Colambre found a spirit of improvement, a
+desire for knowledge, and a taste for science and literature, in most
+companies, particularly among gentlemen belonging to the Irish bar:
+nor did he in Dublin society see any of that confusion of ranks or
+predominance of vulgarity, of which his mother had complained. Lady
+Clonbrony had assured him, that, the last time she had been at the
+drawing-room at the Castle, a lady, whom she afterwards found to be a
+grocer's wife, had turned angrily when her ladyship had accidentally
+trodden on her train, and had exclaimed with a strong brogue, "I'll
+thank you, ma'am, for the rest of my tail."
+
+Sir James Brooke, to whom Lord Colambre, without _giving up his
+authority_, mentioned the fact, declared that he had no doubt the
+thing had happened precisely as it was stated; but that this was one
+of the extraordinary cases which ought not to pass into a general
+rule,--that it was a slight instance of that influence of temporary
+causes, from which no conclusions, as to national manners, should be
+drawn.
+
+"I happened," continued Sir James, "to be quartered in Dublin soon
+after the Union took place; and I remember the great but transient
+change that appeared from the removal of both houses of parliament:
+most of the nobility and many of the principal families among the
+Irish commoners, either hurried in high hopes to London, or retired
+disgusted and in despair to their houses in the country. Immediately,
+in Dublin, commerce rose into the vacated seats of rank; wealth rose
+into the place of birth. New faces and new equipages appeared: people,
+who had never been heard of before, started into notice, pushed
+themselves forward, not scrupling to elbow their way even at the
+castle; and they were presented to my lord-lieutenant and to my
+lady-lieutenant; for their excellencies might have played their
+vice-regal parts to empty benches, had they not admitted such
+persons for the moment to fill their court. Those of former times,
+of hereditary pretensions and high-bred minds and manners, were
+scandalized at all this; and they complained with justice, that the
+whole _tone_ of society was altered; that the decorum, elegance,
+polish, and charm of society was gone. And I, among the rest," said
+Sir James, "felt and deplored their change. But, now it's all over, we
+may acknowledge, that, perhaps, even those things which we felt most
+disagreeable at the time were productive of eventual benefit.
+
+"Formerly, a few families had set the fashion. From time immemorial
+every thing had, in Dublin, been submitted to their hereditary
+authority; and conversation, though it had been rendered polite by
+their example, was, at the same time, limited within narrow bounds.
+Young people, educated upon a more enlarged plan, in time grew up;
+and, no authority or fashion forbidding it, necessarily rose to their
+just place, and enjoyed their due influence in society. The want of
+manners, joined to the want of knowledge, in the _nouveaux riches_,
+created universal disgust: they were compelled, some by ridicule, some
+by bankruptcies, to fall back into their former places, from which
+they could never more emerge. In the mean time, some of the Irish
+nobility and gentry, who had been living at an unusual expense in
+London--an expense beyond their incomes--were glad to return home to
+refit; and they brought with them a new stock of ideas, and some taste
+for science and literature, which, within these latter years, have
+become fashionable, indeed indispensable, in London. That part of the
+Irish aristocracy, who, immediately upon the first incursions of the
+vulgarians, had fled in despair to their fastnesses in the country,
+hearing of the improvements which had gradually taken place in
+society, and assured of the final expulsion of the barbarians,
+ventured from their retreats, and returned to their posts in town. So
+that now," concluded Sir James, "you find a society in Dublin composed
+of a most agreeable and salutary mixture of birth and education,
+gentility and knowledge, manner and matter; and you see, pervading the
+whole, new life and energy, new talent, new ambition, a desire and a
+determination to improve and be improved--a perception that higher
+distinction can now be obtained in almost all company, by genius and
+merit, than by airs and address.... So much for the higher order. Now,
+among the class of tradesmen and shopkeepers, you may amuse yourself,
+my lord, with marking the difference between them and persons of the
+same rank in London."
+
+Lord Colambre had several commissions to execute for his English
+friends, and he made it his amusement in every shop to observe the
+manners and habits of the people. He remarked that there are in Dublin
+two classes of tradespeople: one, who go into business with intent to
+make it their occupation for life, and as a slow but sure means of
+providing for themselves and their families; another class, who take
+up trade merely as a temporary resource, to which they condescend for
+a few years; trusting that they shall, in that time, make a fortune,
+retire, and commence or re-commence gentlemen. The Irish regular men
+of business are like all other men of business--punctual, frugal,
+careful, and so forth; with the addition of more intelligence,
+invention, and enterprise, than are usually found in Englishmen of
+the same rank. But the Dublin tradesmen _pro tempore_ are a class by
+themselves: they begin without capital, buy stock upon credit, in
+hopes of making large profits, and, in the same hopes, sell upon
+credit.
+
+Now, if the credit they can obtain is longer than that which they are
+forced to give, they go on and prosper; if not, they break, become
+bankrupts, and sometimes, as bankrupts, thrive. By such men, of
+course, every _short cut_ to fortune is followed: whilst every habit,
+which requires time to prove its advantage, is disregarded; nor, with
+such views, can a character for _punctuality_ have its just value.
+In the head of a man, who intends to be a tradesman to-day, and a
+gentleman to-morrow, the ideas of the honesty and the duties of a
+tradesman, and of the honour and the accomplishments of a gentleman,
+are oddly jumbled together, and the characteristics of both are lost
+in the compound.
+
+He will _oblige_ you, but he will not obey you; he will do you a
+favour, but he will not do you _justice_; he will do _anything to
+serve you_, but the particular thing you order he neglects; he asks
+your pardon, for he would not, for all the goods in his warehouse,
+_disoblige_ you; not for the sake of your custom, but he has a
+particular regard for your family. Economy, in the eyes of such a
+tradesman, is, if not a mean vice, at least a shabby virtue, of which
+he is too polite to suspect his customers, and to which he is proud of
+proving himself superior. Many London tradesmen, after making their
+thousands and their tens of thousands, feel pride in still continuing
+to live like plain men of business; but from the moment a Dublin
+tradesman of this style has made a few hundreds, he sets up his
+gig, and then his head is in his carriage, and not in his business;
+and when he has made a few thousands, he buys or builds a country
+house--and, then, and thenceforward, his head, heart, and soul, are in
+his country-house, and only his body in the shop with his customers.
+
+Whilst he is making money, his wife, or rather his lady, is
+spending twice as much out of town as he makes in it. At the word
+country-house, let no one figure to himself a snug little box like
+that in which a _warm_ London citizen, after long years of toil,
+indulges himself, one day out of seven, in repose--enjoying, from his
+gazabo, the smell of the dust, and the view of passing coaches on the
+London road: no, these Hibernian villas are on a much more magnificent
+scale; some of them formerly belonged to Irish members of parliament,
+who were at a distance from their country-seats. After the Union these
+were bought by citizens and tradesmen, who spoiled, by the mixture of
+their own fancies, what had originally been designed by men of good
+taste.
+
+Some time after Lord Colambre's arrival in Dublin, he had an
+opportunity of seeing one of these villas, which belonged to Mrs.
+Raffarty, a grocer's lady, and sister to one of Lord Clonbrony's
+agents, Mr. Nicholas Garraghty. Lord Colambre was surprised to find
+that his father's agent resided in Dublin: he had been used to see
+agents, or stewards, as they are called in England, live in the
+country, and usually on the estate of which they have the management.
+Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, however, had a handsome house in a fashionable
+part of Dublin. Lord Colambre called several times to see him, but he
+was out of town, receiving rents for some other gentlemen, as he was
+agent for more than one property.
+
+Though our hero had not the honour of seeing Mr. Garraghty, he had the
+pleasure of finding Mrs. Raffarty one day at her brother's house. Just
+as his lordship came to the door, she was going, on her jaunting-car,
+to her villa, called Tusculum, situate near Bray. She spoke much of
+the beauties of the vicinity of Dublin; found his lordship was going
+with Sir James Brooke, and a party of gentlemen, to see the county
+of Wicklow; and his lordship and party were entreated to do her the
+honour of taking in their way a little collation at Tusculum.
+
+Our hero was glad to have an opportunity of seeing more of a species
+of fine lady with which he was unacquainted.
+
+The invitation was verbally made, and verbally accepted; but the lady
+afterwards thought it necessary to send a written invitation in due
+form, and the note she sent directed to the _Most Right Honourable_
+the Lord Viscount Colambre. On opening it he perceived that it could
+not have been intended for him. It ran as follows:
+
+    "MY DEAR JULIANA O'LEARY,
+
+    "I have got a promise from Colambre, that he will be with us
+    at Tusculum on Friday, the 20th, in his way from the county of
+    Wicklow, for the collation I mentioned; and expect a large party
+    of officers: so pray come early, with your house, or as many as
+    the jaunting-car can bring. And pray, my dear, be _elegant_. You
+    need not let it transpire to Mrs. O'G----; but make my apologies
+    to Miss O'G----, if she says any thing, and tell her I'm quite
+    concerned I can't ask her for that day; because, tell her, I'm so
+    crowded, and am to have none that day but _real quality_.
+
+    "Yours ever and ever,
+
+    "ANASTASIA RAFFARTY.
+
+    "P.S. And I hope to make the gentlemen stop the night with me: so
+    will not have beds. Excuse haste and compliments, &c.
+
+    "_Tusculum, Sunday 15._"
+
+After a charming tour in the county of Wicklow, where the beauty of
+the natural scenery, and the taste with which those natural beauties
+had been cultivated, far surpassed the sanguine expectations Lord
+Colambre had formed, his lordship and his companions arrived at
+Tusculum, where he found Mrs. Raffarty, and Miss Juliana O'Leary,
+very elegant, with a large party of the ladies and gentlemen of Bray,
+assembled in a drawing-room, fine with bad pictures and gaudy gilding;
+the windows were all shut, and the company were playing cards with all
+their might. This was the fashion of the neighbourhood. In compliment
+to Lord Colambre and the officers, the ladies left the card-tables;
+and Mrs. Raffarty, observing that his lordship seemed _partial_ to
+walking, took him out, as she said, "to do the honours of nature and
+art."
+
+His lordship was much amused by the mixture, which was now exhibited
+to him, of taste and incongruity, ingenuity and absurdity, genius
+and blunder; by the contrast between the finery and vulgarity, the
+affectation and ignorance, of the lady of the villa. We should be
+obliged to _stop_ too long at Tusculum were we to attempt to detail
+all the odd circumstances of this visit; but we may record an example
+or two, which may give a sufficient idea of the whole.
+
+In the first place, before they left the drawing-room, Miss Juliana
+O'Leary pointed out to his lordship's attention a picture over the
+drawing-room chimney-piece. "Is not it a fine piece, my lord?" said
+she, naming the price Mrs. Raffarty had lately paid for it at an
+auction. "It has a right to be a fine piece, indeed; for it cost a
+fine price!" Nevertheless this _fine_ piece was a vile daub; and our
+hero could only avoid the sin of flattery, or the danger of offending
+the lady, by protesting that he had no judgment in pictures.
+
+"Indeed! I don't pretend to be a connoisseur or conoscenti myself; but
+I'm told the style is undeniably modern. And was not I lucky, Juliana,
+not to let that _Medona_ be knocked down to me? I was just going to
+bid, when I heard such smart bidding; but, fortunately, the auctioneer
+let out that it was done by a very old master--a hundred years old.
+Oh! your most obedient, thinks I!--if that's the case, it's not for my
+money: so I bought this, in lieu of the smoke-dried thing, and had it
+a bargain."
+
+In architecture, Mrs. Raffarty had as good a taste and as much skill
+as in painting. There had been a handsome portico in front of the
+house: but this interfering with the lady's desire to have a viranda,
+which she said could not he dispensed with, she had raised the whole
+portico to the second story, where it stood, or seemed to stand, upon
+a tarpaulin roof. But Mrs. Raffarty explained, that the pillars,
+though they looked so properly substantial, were really hollow
+and as light as feathers, and were supported with cramps, without
+_disobliging_ the front wall of the house at all to signify.
+
+Before she showed the company any farther, she said, she must premise
+to his lordship, that she had been originally stinted in room for
+her improvements, so that she could not follow her genius liberally;
+she had been reduced to have some things on a confined scale, and
+occasionally to consult her pocket-compass; but she prided herself
+upon having put as much into a tight pattern as could well be;
+that had been her whole ambition, study, and problem; for she was
+determined to have at least the honour of having a little _taste_ of
+every thing at Tusculum.
+
+So she led the way to a little conservatory, and a little pinery, and
+a little grapery, and a little aviary, and a little pheasantry, and a
+little dairy for show, and a little cottage for ditto, with a grotto
+full of shells, and a little hermitage full of earwigs, and a little
+ruin full of looking-glass, "to enlarge and multiply the effect of the
+Gothic."--"But you could only put your head in, because it was just
+fresh painted, and though there had been a fire ordered in the ruin
+all night, it had only smoked."
+
+In all Mrs. Raffarty's buildings, whether ancient or modern, there was
+a studied crookedness.
+
+Yes, she said, she hated every thing straight, it was so formal and
+_unpicturesque_. "Uniformity and conformity," she observed, "had their
+day; but now, thank the stars of the present day, irregularity and
+deformity bear the bell, and have the majority."
+
+As they proceeded and walked through the grounds, from which Mrs.
+Raffarty, though she had done her best, could not take that which
+nature had given, she pointed out to my lord "a happy moving
+termination," consisting of a Chinese bridge, with a fisherman leaning
+over the rails. On a sudden, the fisherman was seen to tumble over the
+bridge into the water. The gentlemen ran to extricate the poor fellow,
+while they heard Mrs. Raffarty bawling to his lordship to beg he would
+never mind, and not trouble himself.
+
+When they arrived at the bridge, they saw the man hanging from part
+of the bridge, and apparently struggling in the water; but when they
+attempted to pull him up, they found it was only a stuffed figure,
+which had been pulled into the stream by a real fish, which had seized
+hold of the bait.
+
+Mrs. Raffarty, vexed by the fisherman's fall, and by the laughter
+it occasioned, did not recover herself sufficiently to be happily
+ridiculous during the remainder of the walk, nor till dinner was
+announced, when she apologized for having changed the collation, at
+first intended, into a dinner, which she hoped would be found no bad
+substitute, and which she flattered herself might prevail on my lord
+and the gentlemen to sleep, as there was no moon.
+
+The dinner had two great faults--profusion and pretension. There was,
+in fact, ten times more on the table than was necessary; and the
+entertainment was far above the circumstances of the person by whom it
+was given: for instance, the dish of fish at the head of the table had
+been brought across the island from Sligo, and had cost five guineas;
+as the lady of the house failed not to make known. But, after all,
+things were not of a piece; there was a disparity between the
+entertainment and the attendants; there was no proportion or fitness
+of things; a painful endeavour at what could not be attained, and a
+toiling in vain to conceal and repair deficiencies and blunders. Had
+the mistress of the house been quiet; had she, as Mrs. Broadhurst
+would say, but let things alone, let things take their course, all
+would have passed off with well-bred people; but she was incessantly
+apologizing, and fussing, and fretting inwardly and outwardly, and
+directing and calling to her servants--striving to make a butler who
+was deaf, and a boy who was harebrained, do the business of five
+accomplished footmen of _parts and figure_. The mistress of the house
+called for "plates, clean plates!--plates!"
+
+  "But none did come, when she did call."
+
+Mrs. Raffarty called "Lanty! Lanty! My lord's plate, there!--James!
+bread to Captain Bowles!--James! port wine to the major!--James! James
+Kenny! James!"
+
+  "And panting _James_ toiled after her in vain."
+
+At length one course was fairly got through, and after a torturing
+half hour, the second course appeared, and James Kenny was intent upon
+one thing, and Lanty upon another, so that the wine-sauce for the hare
+was spilt by their collision; but, what was worse, there seemed little
+chance that the whole of this second course should ever be placed
+altogether rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her throat,
+and nodded, and pointed, and sighed, and sent Lanty after Kenny, and
+Kenny after Lanty; for what one did, the other undid; and at last the
+lady's anger kindled, and she spoke: "Kenny! James Kenny! set the
+sea-cale at this corner, and put down the grass cross-corners; and
+match your maccaroni yonder with _them_ puddens, set--Ogh! James! the
+pyramid in the middle, can't ye?"
+
+The pyramid, in changing places, was overturned. Then it was that the
+mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat, and lifting up her
+hands and eyes in despair, ejaculated, "Oh, James! James!"
+
+The pyramid was raised by the assistance of the military engineers,
+and stood trembling again on its base; but the lady's temper could not
+be so easily restored to its equilibrium. She vented her ill humour on
+her unfortunate husband, who happening not to hear her order to help
+my lord to some hare, she exclaimed loud, that all the world might
+hear, "Corny Raffarty! Corny Raffarty! you're no more _gud_ at the
+_fut_ of my table than a stick of celery!"
+
+The comedy of errors, which this day's visit exhibited, amused all
+the spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he had smiled, sometimes
+sighed.--Similar foibles and follies in persons of different rank,
+fortune, and manner, appear to common observers so unlike that they
+laugh without scruples of conscience in one case, at what in another
+ought to touch themselves most nearly. It was the same desire to
+appear what they were not, the same vain ambition to vie with superior
+rank and fortune, or fashion, which actuated Lady Clonbrony and Mrs.
+Raffarty; and whilst this ridiculous grocer's wife made herself the
+sport of some of her guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from the reflection
+that what she was to them, his mother was to persons in a higher rank
+of fashion.--He sighed still more deeply, when he considered, that,
+in whatever station or with whatever fortune, extravagance, that is,
+the living beyond our income, must lead to distress and meanness, and
+end in shame and ruin. In the morning as they were riding away from
+Tusculum and talking over their visit, the officers laughed heartily,
+and rallying Lord Colambre upon his seriousness, accused him of having
+fallen in love with Mrs. Raffarty, or with the _elegant_ Miss Juliana.
+Our hero, who wished never to be nice over much, or serious out of
+season, laughed with those that laughed, and endeavoured to catch the
+spirit of the jest. But Sir James Brooke, who now was well acquainted
+with his countenance, and who knew something of the history of his
+family, understood his real feelings, and, sympathizing in them,
+endeavoured to give the conversation a new turn.
+
+"Look there, Bowles," said he, as they were just riding into the town
+of Bray; "look at the barouche standing at that green door, at the
+farthest end of the town. Is not that Lady Dashfort's barouche?"
+
+"It looks like what she sported in Dublin last year," said Bowles;
+"but you don't think she'd give us the same two seasons. Besides, she
+is not in Ireland, is she? I did not hear of her intending to come
+over again."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said another officer; "she will come again to
+so good a market, to marry her other daughter. I hear she said or
+swore that she will marry the young widow, Lady Isabel, to an Irish
+nobleman."
+
+"Whatever she says, she swears, and whatever she swears, she'll do,"
+replied Bowles.
+
+"Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart upon you for
+Lady Isabel, she has you. Nothing can save you. Heart she has none,
+so there you're safe, my lord," said the other officer; "but if Lady
+Isabel sets her eye upon you, no basilisk's is surer."
+
+"But if Lady Dashfort had landed I am sure we should have heard of it,
+for she makes noise enough wherever she goes; especially in Dublin,
+where all she said and did was echoed and magnified, till one could
+hear of nothing else. I don't think she has landed."
+
+"I hope to Heaven they may never land again in Ireland!" cried
+Sir James Brooke: "one worthless woman, especially one worthless
+Englishwoman of rank, does incalculable mischief in a country like
+this, which looks up to the sister country for fashion. For my own
+part, as a warm friend to Ireland, I would rather see all the toads
+and serpents, and venomous reptiles, that St. Patrick carried off in
+his bag, come back to this island, than these two _dashers_. Why, they
+would bite half the women and girls in the kingdom with the rage for
+mischief, before half the husbands and fathers could turn their heads
+about. And, once bit, there's no cure in nature or art."
+
+"No horses to this barouche!" cried Captain Bowles.--"Pray, sir, whose
+carriage is this?" said the captain to a servant, who was standing
+beside it.
+
+"My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to," answered the servant, in
+rather a surly English tone; and turning to a boy who was lounging at
+the door, "Pat, bid them bring out the horses, for my ladies is in a
+hurry to get home."
+
+Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the girths of his
+horse, and to satisfy his curiosity; and the whole party halted.
+Captain Bowles beckoned to the landlord of the inn, who was standing
+at his door.
+
+"So, Lady Dashfort is here again?--This is her barouche, is not it?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she is--it is."
+
+"And has she sold her fine horses?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir--this is not her carriage at all--she is not here. That
+is, she is here, in Ireland; but down in the county of Wicklow, on
+a visit. And this is not her own carriage at all;--that is to say,
+not that which she has with herself, driving; but only just the cast
+barouche like, as she keeps for the lady's maids."
+
+"For the lady's maids! that is good! that is new, faith! Sir James, do
+you hear that?"
+
+"Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!" said the
+honest landlord. "And this minute, we've got a directory of five of
+them Abigails, sitting within our house; as fine ladies, as great
+dashers too, every bit, as their principals; and kicking up as much
+dust on the road, every grain!--Think of them, now! The likes of
+them, that must have four horses, and would not stir a foot with one
+less!--As the gentleman's gentleman there was telling and boasting
+to me about now, when the barouche was ordered for them there at the
+lady's house, where Lady Dashfort is on a visit--they said they would
+not get in till they'd get four horses; and their ladies backed them;
+and so the four horses was got; and they just drove out here to see
+the points of view for fashion's sake, like their betters; and up with
+their glasses, like their ladies; and then out with their watches, and
+'Isn't it time to lunch?' So there they have been lunching within on
+what they brought with them; for nothing in our house could they touch
+of course! They brought themselves a _pick-nick_ lunch, with Madeira
+and Champagne to wash it down. Why, gentlemen, what do you think,
+but a set of them, as they were bragging to me, turned out of a
+boarding-house at Cheltenham, last year, because they had not peach
+pies to their lunch!--But, here they come! shawls, and veils, and
+all!--streamers flying! But mum is my cue!--Captain, are these girths
+to your fancy now?" said the landlord, aloud: then, as he stooped to
+alter a buckle, he said in a voice meant to be heard only by Captain
+Bowles, "If there's a tongue, male or female, in the three kingdoms,
+it's in that foremost woman, Mrs. Petito."
+
+"Mrs. Petito!" repeated Lord Colambre, as the name caught his ear;
+and, approaching the barouche, in which the five Abigails were now
+seated, he saw the identical Mrs. Petito, who, when he left London,
+had been in his mother's service.
+
+She recognized his lordship with very gracious intimacy; and, before
+he had time to ask any questions, she answered all she conceived he
+was going to ask, and with a volubility which justified the landlord's
+eulogium of her tongue.
+
+"Yes, my lord! I left my Lady Clonbrony some time back--the day after
+you left town; and both her ladyship and Miss Nugent was charmingly,
+and would have sent their loves to your lordship, I'm sure, if they'd
+any notion I should have met you, my lord, so soon. And I was very
+sorry to part with them; but the fact was, my lord," said Mrs. Petito,
+laying a detaining hand upon Lord Colambre's whip, one end of which
+he unwittingly trusted within her reach, "I and my lady had a little
+difference, which the best friends, you know, sometimes have: so
+my Lady Clonbrony was so condescending to give me up to my Lady
+Dashfort--and I knew no more than the child unborn that her ladyship
+had it in contemplation to cross the seas. But, to oblige my lady,
+and as Colonel Heathcock, with his regiment of militia, was coming
+for purtection in the packet at the same time, and we to have the
+government-yacht, I waived my objections to Ireland. And, indeed,
+though I was greatly frighted at first, having heard all we've heard,
+you know, my lord, from Lady Clonbrony, of there being no living
+in Ireland, and expecting to see no trees, nor accommodation, nor
+any thing but bogs all along; yet I declare, I was very agreeably
+surprised; for, as far as I've seen at Dublin and in the vicinity,
+the accommodations, and every thing of that nature now, is vastly
+put-up-able with!"
+
+"My lord," said Sir James Brooke, "we shall be late."
+
+Lord Colambre, withdrawing his whip from Mrs. Petito, turned his
+horse away. She, stretching over the back of the barouche as he rode
+off, bawled to him, "My lord, we're at Stephen's Green, when we're at
+Dublin." But as he did not choose to hear, she raised her voice to its
+highest pitch, adding, "And where are you, my lord, to be found?--as I
+have a parcel of Miss Nugent's for you."
+
+Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his direction.
+
+"Cleverly done, faith!" said the major.
+
+"I did not hear her say when Lady Dashfort is to be in town," said
+Captain Bowles.
+
+"What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your guineas to Lady
+Dashfort, and to be jockeyed out of another horse by Lady Isabel?"
+
+"Oh, confound it--no! I'll keep out of the way of that--I have had
+enough," said Captain Bowles; "it is my Lord Colambre's turn now; you
+hear that Lady Dashfort would be very _proud_ to see him. His lordship
+is in for it, and with such an auxiliary as Mrs. Petito, Lady Dashfort
+has him far Lady Isabel, as sure as he has a heart or hand."
+
+"My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged," said Lord
+Colambre; "and my hand shall go with my heart, or not at all."
+
+"Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman, no doubt," said
+Sir James Brooke. "I have an excellent opinion of your taste; and if
+you can return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don't
+trust to your heart's being engaged, much less plead that engagement;
+for it would be Lady Dashfort's sport, and Lady Isabel's joy, to
+make you break your engagement, and break your mistress's heart; the
+fairer, the more amiable, the more beloved, the greater the triumph,
+the greater the delight in giving pain. All the time love would be out
+of the question; neither mother nor daughter would care if you were
+hanged, or, as Lady Dashfort would herself have expressed it, if you
+were d----d."
+
+"With such women I should think a man's heart could be in no great
+danger," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"There you might be mistaken, my lord; there's a way to every man's
+heart, which no man in his own case is aware of, but which every woman
+knows right well, and none better than these ladies--by his vanity."
+
+"True," said Captain Bowles.
+
+"I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity," said Lord
+Colambre; "but love, I should imagine, is a stronger passion than
+vanity."
+
+"You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord. Excuse me,"
+said Captain Bowles, laughing.
+
+Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have
+nothing to do with these dangerous ladies: indeed, though he had
+talked, he had scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was
+intent upon that packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs. Petito said she
+had for him. He heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent
+his servant every day to Stephen's Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort
+had returned to town. Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito
+could not deliver the parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre's own, and
+she would not stir out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer
+able to restrain his impatience, Lord Colambre went himself--knocked
+at Lady Dashfort's door--inquired for Mrs. Petito--was shown into
+her parlour. The parcel was delivered to him; but, to his utter
+disappointment, it was a parcel _for_, not _from_ Miss Nugent. It
+contained merely an odd volume of some book of Miss Nugent's which
+Mrs. Petito said she had put up along with her things _in a mistake_,
+and she thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity of a
+safe conveyance.
+
+Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was
+fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent's name, written by her own hand, in
+the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an
+interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning, appeared--appeared for one
+moment, and retired.
+
+"Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for him from
+England, my lady--my Lady Isabel, my lord," said Mrs. Petito.
+
+Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying this, the entrance and retreat had
+been made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty: with
+such innocence, dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and
+withdrawn; with such a gracious bend the Lady Isabel had bowed to
+him as she retired; with such a smile, and with so soft a voice, had
+repeated "Lord Colambre!" that his lordship, though well aware that
+all this was mere acting, could not help saying to himself, as he
+left the house, "It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly
+something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an actress.
+And so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow before
+most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be such a fiend as
+they described her to be!"
+
+A few nights afterwards Lord Colambre was with some of his
+acquaintance at the theatre, when Lady Isabel and her mother came
+into the box, where seats had been reserved for them, and where their
+appearance instantly made that _sensation_, which is usually created
+by the entrance of persons of the first notoriety in the fashionable
+world. Lord Colambre was not a man to be dazzled by fashion, or to
+mistake notoriety for deference paid to merit, and for the admiration
+commanded by beauty or talents. Lady Dashfort's coarse person, loud
+voice, daring manners, and indelicate wit, disgusted him almost
+past endurance. He saw Sir James Brooke in the box opposite to him;
+and twice determined to go round to him. His lordship had crossed
+the benches, and once his hand was upon the lock of the door; but,
+attracted as much by the daughter as repelled by the mother, he could
+move no farther. The mother's masculine boldness heightened, by
+contrast, the charms of the daughter's soft sentimentality. The Lady
+Isabel seemed to shrink from the indelicacy of her mother's manners,
+and appeared peculiarly distressed by the strange efforts Lady
+Dashfort made, from time to time, to drag her forward, and to fix
+upon her the attention of gentlemen. Colonel Heathcock, who, as Mrs.
+Petito had informed Lord Colambre, had come over with his regiment to
+Ireland, was beckoned into their box by Lady Dashfort, by her squeezed
+into a seat next to Lady Isabel; but Lady Isabel seemed to feel
+sovereign contempt, properly repressed by politeness, for what, in a
+low whisper to a female friend on the other side of her, she called,
+"the self-sufficient inanity of this sad coxcomb." Other coxcombs, of
+a more vivacious style, who stationed themselves round her mother, or
+to whom her mother stretched from box to box to talk, seemed to engage
+no more of Lady Isabel's attention than just what she was compelled to
+give by Lady Dashfort's repeated calls of, "Isabel! Isabel! Colonel
+G----, Isabel! Lord D---- bowing to you. Bell! Bell! Sir Harry B----.
+Isabel, child, with your eyes on the stage? Did you never see a play
+before? Novice! Major P---- waiting to catch your eye this quarter of
+an hour; and now her eyes gone down to her play-bill! Sir Harry, do
+take it from her.
+
+  "'Were eyes so radiant only made to read?'"
+
+Lady Isabel appeared to suffer so exquisitely and so naturally from
+this persecution, that Lord Colambre said to himself, "If this be
+acting, it is the best acting I ever saw. If this be art, it deserves
+to be nature."
+
+And with this sentiment, he did himself the honour of handing Lady
+Isabel to her carriage this night, and with this sentiment he awoke
+next morning; and by the time he had dressed and breakfasted, he
+determined that it was impossible all that he had seen could be
+acting. "No woman, no young woman, could have such art." Sir James
+Brooke had been unwarrantably severe; he would go and tell him so.
+
+But Sir James Brooke this day received orders for his regiment to
+march to quarters in a distant part of Ireland. His head was full of
+arms, and ammunition, and knapsacks, and billets, and routes; and
+there was no possibility, even in the present chivalrous disposition
+of our hero, to enter upon the defence of the Lady Isabel. Indeed, in
+the regret he felt for the approaching and unexpected departure of his
+friend, Lord Colambre forgot the fair lady. But just when Sir James
+had his foot in the stirrup, he stopped.
+
+"By-the-bye, my dear lord, I saw you at the play last night. You
+seemed to be much interested. Don't think me impertinent if I remind
+you of our conversation when we were riding home from Tusculum;
+and if I warn you," said he, mounting his horse, "to beware of
+counterfeits--for such are abroad." Reining in his impatient steed,
+Sir James turned again, and added "_Deeds, not words_, is my motto.
+Remember, we can judge better by the conduct of people towards others
+than by their manner towards ourselves."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Our hero was quite convinced of the good sense of his friend's last
+remark, that it is safer to judge of people by their conduct to others
+than by their manners towards ourselves; but as yet, he felt scarcely
+any interest on the subject of Lady Dashfort's or Lady Isabel's
+characters: however, he inquired and listened to all the evidence he
+could obtain respecting this mother and daughter.
+
+He heard terrible reports of the mischief they had done in families;
+the extravagance into which they had led men; the imprudence, to say
+no worse, into which they had betrayed women. Matches broken off,
+reputations ruined, husbands alienated from their wives, and wives
+made jealous of their husbands. But in some of these stories he
+discovered exaggeration so flagrant as to make him doubt the whole; in
+others, it could not be positively determined whether the mother or
+daughter had been the person most to blame.
+
+Lord Colambre always followed the charitable rule of believing only
+half what the world says, and here he thought it fair to believe
+which half he pleased. He farther observed, that, though all joined
+in abusing these ladies in their absence, when present they seemed
+universally admired. Though every body cried "shame!" and "shocking!"
+yet every body visited them. No parties so crowded as Lady Dashfort's;
+no party deemed pleasant or fashionable where Lady Dashfort or Lady
+Isabel was not. The bon-mots of the mother were every where repeated;
+the dress and air of the daughter every where imitated. Yet Lord
+Colambre could not help being surprised at their popularity in Dublin,
+because, independently of all moral objections, there were causes of
+a different sort, sufficient, he thought, to prevent Lady Dashfort
+from being liked by the Irish, indeed by any society. She in general
+affected to be ill-bred, and inattentive to the feelings and opinions
+of others; careless whom she offended by her wit or by her decided
+tone. There are some persons in so high a region of fashion, that they
+imagine themselves above the thunder of vulgar censure. Lady Dashfort
+felt herself in this exalted situation, and fancied she might
+
+  "Hear the innocuous thunder roll below."
+
+Her rank was so high that none could dare to call her vulgar: what
+would have been gross in any one of meaner note, in her was freedom or
+originality, or Lady Dashfort's way. It was Lady Dashfort's pleasure
+and pride to show her power in perverting the public taste. She often
+said to those English companions with whom she was intimate, "Now see
+what follies I can lead these fools into. Hear the nonsense I can make
+them repeat as wit." Upon some occasion, one of her friends _ventured_
+to fear that something she had said was _too strong_. "Too strong,
+was it? Well, I like to be strong--woe be to the weak!" On another
+occasion she was told that certain visitors had seen her ladyship
+yawning. "Yawn, did I?--glad of it--the yawn sent them away, or I
+should have snored;--rude, was I? they won't complain. To say I was
+rude to them, would be to say, that I did not think it worth my while
+to be otherwise. Barbarians! are not we the civilized English, come to
+teach them manners and fashions? Whoever does not conform, and swear
+allegiance too, we shall keep out of the English pale."
+
+Lady Dashfort forced her way, and she set the fashion: fashion, which
+converts the ugliest dress into what is beautiful and charming,
+governs the public mode in morals and in manners; and thus, when great
+talents and high rank combine, they can debase or elevate the public
+taste.
+
+With Lord Colambre she played more artfully: she drew him out in
+defence of his beloved country, and gave him opportunities of
+appearing to advantage; this he could not help feeling, especially
+when the Lady Isabel was present. Lady Dashfort had dealt long enough
+with human nature to know, that to make any man pleased with her, she
+should begin by making him pleased with himself.
+
+Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally felt to
+Lady Dashfort wore off; her faults, he began to think, were assumed;
+he pardoned her defiance of good-breeding, when he observed that she
+could, when she chose it, be most engagingly polite. It was not that
+she did not know what was right, but that she did not think it always
+for her interest to practise it.
+
+The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her wit depended
+merely on unexpectedness; a characteristic which may be applied to any
+impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct. In some of her ladyship's
+repartees, however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was more
+than unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly
+unfit for a woman, and he was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear
+it. In short, exceptionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort's
+conversation had become entertaining to him; and though he could never
+esteem, or feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow
+that she could be agreeable.
+
+"Ay, I knew how it would be," said she, when some of her friends told
+her this. "He began by detesting me, and did I not tell you that,
+if I thought it worth my while to make him like me, he must, sooner
+or later? I delight in seeing people begin with me as they do with
+olives, making all manner of horrid faces, and silly protestations
+that they will never touch an olive again as long as they live; but,
+after a little time, these very folk grow so desperately fond of
+olives, that there is no dessert without them. Isabel, child, you are
+in the sweet line--but sweets cloy. You never heard of any body living
+on marmalade, did ye?"
+
+Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.
+
+"To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well," pursued the
+mother; "but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up
+the spirit and bustle, and carry on the plot of the piece, and I am
+that somebody--as you shall see. Is not that our hero's voice which I
+hear on the stairs?"
+
+It was Lord Colambre. His lordship had by this time become a constant
+visitor at Lady Dashfort's. Not that he had forgotten, or that he
+meant to disregard his friend Sir James Brooke's parting words. He
+promised himself faithfully, that if any thing should occur to give
+him reason to suspect designs, such as those to which the warning
+pointed, he would be on his guard, and would prove his generalship by
+an able retreat. But to imagine attacks where none were attempted,
+to suspect ambuscades in the open country, would be ridiculous and
+cowardly.
+
+"No," thought our hero; "Heaven forefend I should be such a coxcomb
+as to fancy every woman who speaks to me has designs upon my precious
+heart, or on my more precious estate!" As he walked from his hotel to
+Lady Dashfort's house, ingeniously wrong, he came to this conclusion,
+just as he ascended the stairs, and just as her ladyship had settled
+her future plan of operations.
+
+After talking over the nothings of the day, and after having given
+two or three _cuts_ at the society of Dublin, with two or three
+compliments to individuals, who she knew were favourites with his
+lordship, she suddenly turned to him. "My lord, I think you told me,
+or my own sagacity discovered, that you want to see something of
+Ireland, and that you don't intend, like most travellers, to turn
+round, see nothing, and go home content."
+
+Lord Colambre assured her ladyship that she had judged him rightly,
+for that nothing would content him but seeing all that was possible to
+be seen of his native country. It was for this special purpose he came
+to Ireland.
+
+"Ah!--well--very good purpose--can't be better; but now how to
+accomplish it. You know the Portuguese proverb says, 'You go to hell
+for the good things you _intend_ to do, and to heaven for those you
+do.' Now let us see what you will do. Dublin, I suppose, you've seen
+enough of by this time; through and through--round and round--this
+makes me first giddy, and then sick. Let me show you the country--not
+the face of it, but the body of it--the people.--Not Castle this, or
+Newtown that, but their inhabitants. I know them; I have the key, or
+the pick-lock to their minds. An Irishman is as different an animal on
+his guard and off his guard, as a miss in school from a miss out of
+school. A fine country for game, I'll show you; and if you are a good
+marksman, you may have plenty of shots 'at folly as it flies.'"
+
+Lord Colambre smiled.
+
+"As to Isabel," pursued her ladyship, "I shall put her in charge of
+Heathcock, who is going with us. She won't thank me for that, but you
+will. Nay, no fibs, man; you know, I know, as who does not that has
+seen the world? that, though a pretty woman is a mighty pretty thing,
+yet she is confoundedly in one's way, when any thing else is to be
+seen, heard,--or understood."
+
+Every objection anticipated and removed, and so far a prospect held
+out of attaining all the information he desired, with more than all
+the amusement he could have expected, Lord Colambre seemed much
+tempted to accept the invitation; but he hesitated, because, as he
+said, her ladyship might be going to pay visits where he was not
+acquainted.
+
+"Bless you! don't let that be a stumbling-block in the way of your
+tender conscience. I am going to Killpatricks-town, where you'll
+be as welcome as light. You know them, they know you; at least you
+shall have a proper letter of invitation from my Lord and my Lady
+Killpatrick, and all that. And as to the rest, you know a young man is
+always welcome every where, a young nobleman kindly welcome--I won't
+say such a young man, and such a young nobleman, for that might put
+you to your bows or your blushes--but _nobilitas_ by itself, nobility
+is virtue enough in all parties, in all families, where there are
+girls, and of course balls, as there are always at Killpatricks-town.
+Don't be alarmed; you shall not be forced to dance, or asked to marry.
+I'll be your security. You shall be at full liberty; and it is a house
+where you can do just what you will. Indeed, I go to no others. These
+Killpatricks are the best creatures in the world; they think nothing
+good or grand enough for me. If I'd let them, they would lay down
+cloth of gold over their bogs for me to walk upon. Good-hearted
+beings!" added Lady Dashfort, marking a cloud gathering on Lord
+Colambre's countenance. "I laugh at them, because I love them. I could
+not love any thing I might not laugh at--your lordship excepted. So
+you'll come--that's settled."
+
+And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatricks-town.
+
+"Every thing here sumptuous and unfinished, you see," said Lady
+Dashfort to Lord Colambre, the day after their arrival. "All begun as
+if the projectors thought they had the command of the mines of Peru,
+and ended as if the possessors had not sixpence. Luxuries enough for
+an English prince of the blood: comforts not enough for an English
+yeoman. And you may be sure that great repairs and alterations have
+gone on to fit this house for our reception, and for our English
+eyes!--Poor people!--English visitors, in this point of view, are
+horribly expensive to the Irish. Did you ever hear, that in the last
+century, or in the century before the last, to put my story far enough
+back, so that it shall not touch any body living; when a certain
+English nobleman, Lord Blank A----, sent to let his Irish friend, Lord
+Blank B----, know that he and all his train were coming over to pay
+him a visit; the Irish nobleman, Blank B----, knowing the deplorable
+condition of his castle, sat down fairly to calculate whether it would
+cost him most to put the building in good and sufficient repair,
+fit to receive these English visitors, or to burn it to the ground.
+He found the balance to be in favour of burning, which was wisely
+accomplished next day.[1] Perhaps Killpatrick would have done well
+to follow this example. Resolve me which is worst, to be burnt
+out of house and home, or to be eaten out of house and home. In
+this house, above and below stairs, including first and second
+table, housekeeper's room, lady's maids' room, butler's room, and
+gentleman's, one hundred and four people sit down to dinner every
+day, as Petito informs me, besides kitchen boys, and what they call
+_char_-women, who never sit down, but who do not eat or waste the less
+for that; and retainers and friends, friends to the fifth and sixth
+generation, who 'must get their bit and their sup;' for 'sure, it's
+only Biddy,' they say;" continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish
+brogue. "And 'sure, 'tis nothing at all, out of all his honour my lord
+has. How could he _feel_ it[2]?--Long life to him!--He's not that way:
+not a couple in all Ireland, and that's saying a great dale, looks
+less after their own, nor is more off-handeder, or open-hearteder, or
+greater openhouse-keeper, _nor_[3] my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick.'
+Now there's encouragement for a lord and a lady to ruin themselves."
+
+[Footnote 1: Fact.]
+[Footnote 2: _Feel_ it, become sensible of it, know it.]
+[Footnote 3: _Nor_, than.]
+
+Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted that
+"she was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had brogues for
+all occasions." By her mixture of mimicry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and
+truth, she succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at
+every thing at which she wished to make him laugh; at every _thing_,
+but not at every _body_: whenever she became personal, he became
+serious, or at least endeavoured to become serious; and if he could
+not instantly resume the command of his risible muscles, he reproached
+himself.
+
+"It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dashfort, in
+their own house--these hospitable people, who are entertaining us."
+
+"Entertaining us! true, and if we are _entertained_, how can we help
+laughing?"
+
+All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her
+pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings
+and principles. This he saw, and this seemed to him to be her sole
+object; but there he was mistaken. _Off-handed_ as she pretended to
+be, none dealt more in the _impromptu fait a loisir_; and, mentally
+short-sighted as she affected to be, none had more _longanimity_ for
+their own interest.
+
+It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland ridiculous
+and contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust him with his native
+country; to make him abandon the wish of residing on his own estate.
+To confirm him an absentee was her object, previously to her ultimate
+plan of marrying him to her daughter. Her daughter was poor, she would
+therefore be glad to _get_ an Irish peer for her; but would be very
+sorry, she said, to see Isabel banished to Ireland; and the young
+widow declared she could never bring herself to be buried alive in
+Clonbrony Castle.
+
+In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain
+hints from Mrs. Petito, which worked all to the same point.
+
+"Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that, when I was
+at Lady Clonbrony's," said Petito, one day, as she was attending at
+her lady's toilette, and encouraged to begin chattering. "And I own
+I was originally under the universal error that my Lord Colambre was
+to be married to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been
+converted and reformed on that score, and am at present quite in
+another way of thinking."
+
+Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask what was her present
+way of thinking? But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell her
+without being asked, did not take the trouble to speak, particularly
+as she did not choose to appear violently interested on the subject.
+
+"My present way of thinking," resumed Petito, "is in consequence of
+my having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his
+lordship's behaviour and words, the morning he was coming away from
+_Lunnun_ for Ireland; when he was morally certain nobody was up, nor
+overhearing nor overseeing him, there did I notice him, my lady,
+stopping in the antechamber, ejaculating over one of Miss Nugent's
+gloves, which he had picked up. 'Limerick!' said he, quite loud enough
+to himself; for it was a Limerick glove, my lady--'Limerick!--dear
+Ireland! she loves you as well as I do!'--or words to that effect;
+and then a sigh, and down stairs and off. So, thinks I, now the cat's
+out of the bag. And I wouldn't give much myself for Miss Broadhurst's
+chance of that young lord, with all her Bank stock, scrip, and
+_omnum_. Now, I see how the land lies, and I'm sorry for it; for she's
+no _fortin_; and she's so proud, she never said a hint to me of the
+matter: but my Lord Colambre is a sweet gentleman; and--"
+
+"Petito! don't run on so; you must not meddle with what you don't
+understand: the Miss Killpatricks, to be sure, are sweet girls,
+particularly the youngest."
+
+Her ladyship's toilette was finished; and she left Petito to go down
+to my Lady Killpatrick's woman, to tell, as a very great secret, the
+schemes that were in contemplation, among the higher powers, in favour
+of the youngest of the Miss Killpatricks.
+
+"So Ireland is at the bottom of his heart, is it?" repeated Lady
+Dashfort to herself: "it shall not be long so."
+
+From this time forward, not a day, scarcely an hour passed, but her
+ladyship did or said something to depreciate the country, or its
+inhabitants, in our hero's estimation. With treacherous ability,
+she knew and followed all the arts of misrepresentation; all those
+injurious arts which his friend, Sir James Brooke, had, with such
+honest indignation, reprobated. She knew how, not only to seize the
+ridiculous points, to make the most respectable people ridiculous,
+but she knew how to select the worst instances, the worst exceptions;
+and to produce them as examples, as precedents, from which to condemn
+whole classes, and establish general false conclusions respecting a
+nation.
+
+In the neighbourhood of Killpatrick's-town, Lady Dashfort said,
+there were several _squireens_, or little squires; a race of men who
+have succeeded to the _buckeens_, described by Young and Crumpe.
+_Squireens_ are persons who, with good long leases, or valuable farms,
+possess incomes from three to eight hundred a year, who keep a pack
+of hounds; _take out_ a commission of the peace, sometimes before
+they can spell (as her ladyship said), and almost always before they
+know any thing of law or justice. Busy and loud about small matters;
+_jobbers at assizes_; combining with one another, and trying upon
+every occasion, public or private, to push themselves forward, to the
+annoyance of their superiors, and the terror of those below them.
+
+In the usual course of things, these men are not often to be found
+in the society of gentry except, perhaps, among those gentlemen or
+noblemen who like to see hangers-on at their, tables: or who find it
+for their convenience to have underling magistrates, to _protect_
+their favourites, or to propose and _carry_ jobs for them on grand
+juries. At election times, however, these persons rise into sudden
+importance with all who have views upon the county. Lady Dashfort
+hinted to Lord Killpatrick, that her private letters from England
+spoke of an approaching dissolution of parliament: she knew that, upon
+this hint, a round of invitations would be sent to the squireens; and
+she was morally certain that they would be more disagreeable to Lord
+Colambre, and give him a worse idea of the country, than any other
+people who could be produced. Day after day some of these personages
+made their appearance; and Lady Dashfort took care to draw them out
+upon the subjects on which she knew that they would show the most
+self-sufficient ignorance, and the most illiberal spirit. They
+succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations.
+
+"Lord Colambre! how I pity you, for being compelled to these permanent
+sittings after dinner!" said Lady Isabel to him one night, when he
+came late to the ladies from the dining-room.
+
+"Lord Killpatrick insisted upon my staying to help him to push about
+that never-ending, still-beginning electioneering bottle," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"Oh! if that were all; if these gentlemen would only drink:--but their
+conversation!" "I don't wonder my mother dreads returning to Clonbrony
+Castle, if my father must have such company as this. But, surely, it
+cannot be necessary."
+
+"Oh, indispensable! positively indispensable!" cried Lady Dashfort;
+"no living in Ireland without it. You know, in every country in the
+world, you must live with the people of the country, or be torn to
+pieces: for my part, I should prefer being torn to pieces."
+
+Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel knew how to take advantage of the
+contrast between their own conversation, and that of the persons by
+whom Lord Colambre was so justly disgusted: they happily relieved his
+fatigue with wit, satire, poetry, and sentiment; so that he every day
+became more exclusively fond of their company; for Lady Killpatrick
+and the Miss Killpatricks were mere commonplace people. In the
+mornings, he rode or walked with Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel: Lady
+Dashfort, by way of fulfilling her promise of showing him the people,
+used frequently to take him into the cabins, and talk to their
+inhabitants. Lord and Lady Killpatrick, who had lived always for the
+fashionable world, had taken little pains to improve the condition of
+their tenants: the few attempts they had made were injudicious. They
+had built ornamented, picturesque cottages, within view of their park;
+and favourite followers of the family, people with half a century's
+habit of indolence and dirt, were _promoted_ to these fine dwellings.
+The consequences were such as Lady Dashfort delighted to point out:
+every thing let to go to ruin for the want of a moment's care, or
+pulled to pieces for the sake of the most surreptitious profit: the
+people most assisted always appearing proportionally wretched and
+discontented. No one could, with more ease and more knowledge of her
+ground, than Lady Dashfort, do the _dishonours_ of a country. In
+every cabin that she entered, by the first glance of her eye at the
+head, kerchiefed in no comely guise, or by the drawn-down corners of
+the mouth, or by the bit of a broken pipe, which in Ireland never
+characterizes _stout labour_, or by the first sound of the voice, the
+drawling accent on "your honour," or, "my lady," she could distinguish
+the proper objects of her charitable designs, that is to say, those
+of the old uneducated race, whom no one can help, because they will
+never help themselves. To these she constantly addressed herself,
+making them give, in all their despairing tones, a history of their
+complaints and grievances; then asking them questions, aptly contrived
+to expose their habits of self-contradiction, their servility and
+flattery one moment, and their litigious and encroaching spirit the
+next: thus giving Lord Colambre the most unfavourable idea of the
+disposition and character of the lower class of the Irish people. Lady
+Isabel the while standing by, with the most amiable air of pity, with
+expressions of the finest moral sensibility, softening all her mother
+said, finding ever some excuse for the poor creatures, and following,
+with angelic sweetness, to heal the wounds her mother inflicted.
+
+When Lady Dashfort thought she had sufficiently worked upon Lord
+Colambre's mind to weaken his enthusiasm for his native country; and
+when Lady Isabel had, by the appearance of every virtue, added to
+a delicate preference, if not partiality for our hero, ingratiated
+herself into his good opinion, and obtained an interest in his mind,
+the wily mother ventured an attack of a more decisive nature; and so
+contrived it was, that if it failed, it should appear to have been
+made without design to injure, and in total ignorance.
+
+One day, Lady Dashfort, who, in fact, was not proud of her family,
+though she pretended to be so, was herself prevailed on, though with
+much difficulty, by Lady Killpatrick, to do the very thing she wanted
+to do, to show her genealogy, which had been beautifully blazoned, and
+which was to be produced in evidence in the lawsuit that brought her
+to Ireland. Lord Colambre stood politely looking on and listening,
+while her ladyship explained the splendid intermarriages of her
+family, pointing to each medallion that was filled gloriously with
+noble, and even with royal names, till at last she stopped short, and
+covering one medallion with her finger, she said, "Pass over that,
+dear Lady Killpatrick. You are not to see that, Lord Colambre--that's
+a little blot in our scutcheon. You know, Isabel, we never talk of
+that prudent match of great uncle John's: what could he expect by
+marrying into _that_ family, where, you know, all the men were not
+_sans peur_, and none of the women _sans reproche_?"
+
+"Oh, mamma!" cried Lady Isabel, "not one exception!"
+
+"Not one, Isabel," persisted Lady Dashfort: "there was Lady ----, and
+the other sister, that married the man with the long nose; and the
+daughter again, of whom they contrived to make an honest woman, by
+getting her married in time to a _blue riband_, and who contrived to
+get herself into Doctors' Commons the very next year."
+
+"Well, dear mamma, that is enough, and too much. Oh! pray don't go
+on," cried Lady Isabel, who had appeared very much distressed during
+her mother's speech. "You don't know what you are saying: indeed,
+ma'am, you don't."
+
+"Very likely, child; but that compliment I can return to you on the
+spot, and with interest; for you seem to me, at this instant, not to
+know either what you are saying, or what you are doing. Come, come,
+explain."
+
+"Oh, no, ma'am--Pray say no more; I will explain myself another time."
+
+"Nay, there you are wrong, Isabel; in point of good-breeding, any
+thing is better than hints and mystery. Since I have been so unlucky
+as to touch upon the subject, better go through with it, and, with
+all the boldness of innocence, I ask the question, Are you, my Lord
+Colambre, or are you not, related to or connected with any of the St.
+Omars?"
+
+"Not that I know of," said Lord Colambre; "but I really am so bad a
+genealogist, that I cannot answer positively."
+
+"Then I must put the substance of my question into a new form. Have
+you, or have you not, a cousin of the name of Nugent?"
+
+"Miss Nugent!--Grace Nugent!--Yes," said Lord Colambre, with as much
+firmness of voice as he could command, and with as little change
+of countenance as possible; but, as the question came upon him so
+unexpectedly, it was not in his power to answer with an air of
+absolute indifference and composure.
+
+"And her mother was--" said Lady Dashfort.
+
+"My aunt, by marriage; her maiden name was Reynolds, I think. But she
+died when I was quite a child. I know very little about her. I never
+saw her in my life; but I am certain she was a Reynolds."
+
+"Oh, my dear lord," continued Lady Dashfort; "I am perfectly aware
+that she did take and bear the name of Reynolds; but that was not her
+maiden name--her maiden name was--; but perhaps it is a family secret
+that has been kept, for some good reason, from you, and from the poor
+girl herself; the maiden name was St. Omar, depend upon it. Nay, I
+would not have told this to you, my lord, if I could have conceived
+that it would affect you so violently," pursued Lady Dashfort, in a
+tone of raillery; "you see you are no worse off than we are. We have
+an intermarriage with the St. Omars. I did not think you would be so
+much shocked at a discovery, which proves that our family and yours
+have some little connexion."
+
+Lord Colambre endeavoured to answer, and mechanically said something
+about "happy to have the honour." Lady Dashfort, truly happy to see
+that her blow had hit the mark so well, turned from his lordship
+without seeming to observe how seriously he was affected; and Lady
+Isabel sighed, and looked with compassion on Lord Colambre, and then
+reproachfully at her mother. But Lord Colambre heeded not her looks,
+and heard none of her sighs; he heard nothing, saw nothing, though his
+eyes were intently fixed on the genealogy, on which Lady Dashfort was
+still descanting to Lady Killpatrick. He took the first opportunity he
+could of quitting the room, and went out to take a solitary walk.
+
+"There he is, departed, but not in peace, to reflect upon what has
+been said," whispered Lady Dashfort to her daughter. "I hope it will
+do him a vast deal of good."
+
+"None of the women _sans reproche_! None!--without one exception,"
+said Lord Colambre to himself; "and Grace Nugent's mother a St.
+Omar!--Is it possible? Lady Dashfort seems certain. She could not
+assert a positive falsehood--no motive. She does not know that Miss
+Nugent is the person to whom I am attached--she spoke at random. And
+I have heard it first from a stranger,--not from my mother. Why was
+it kept secret from me? Now I understand the reason why my mother
+evidently never wished that I should think of Miss Nugent--why she
+always spoke so vehemently against the marriages of relations, of
+cousins. Why not tell me the truth? It would have had the strongest
+effect, had she known my mind."
+
+Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any woman whose
+mother had conducted herself ill. His reason, his prejudices, his
+pride, his delicacy, and even his limited experience were all against
+it. All his hopes, his plans of future happiness, were shaken to their
+very foundation; he felt as if he had received a blow that stunned his
+mind, and from which he could not recover his faculties. The whole
+of that day he was like one in a dream. At night the painful idea
+continually recurred to him; and whenever he was fallen asleep, the
+sound of Lady Dashfort's voice returned upon his ear, saying the
+words, "What could he expect when he married one of the St. Omars?
+None of the women _sans reproche_."
+
+In the morning he rose early; and the first thing he did was to write
+a letter to his mother, requesting (unless there was some important
+reason for her declining to answer the question) that she would
+immediately relieve his mind from a great _uneasiness_ (he altered the
+word four times, but at last left it uneasiness). He stated what he
+had heard, and besought his mother to tell him the whole truth without
+reserve.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+One morning Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious scheme for leaving
+Lady Isabel and Lord Colambre _tete-a-tete_; but the sudden entrance
+of Heathcock disconcerted her intentions. He came to beg Lady
+Dashfort's interest with Count O'Halloran, for permission to hunt
+and shoot on his grounds next season.--"Not for myself, 'pon honour,
+but for two officers who are quartered at the next _town_ here, who
+will indubitably hang or drown themselves if they are debarred from
+sporting."
+
+"Who is this Count O'Halloran?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+Miss White, Lady Killpatrick's companion, said, "he was a great
+oddity;" Lady Dashfort, "that he was singular;" and the clergyman
+of the parish, who was at breakfast, declared "that he was a man of
+uncommon knowledge, merit, and politeness."
+
+"All I know of him," said Heathcock, "is, that he is a great
+sportsman, with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and long skirts to a
+laced waistcoat."
+
+Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary personage;
+and Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and, perhaps thinking
+absence might be as effectual as too much propinquity, immediately
+offered to call upon the officers in their way, and carry them with
+Heathcock and Lord Colambre to Halloran Castle.
+
+Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with becoming grace;
+and Major Benson and Captain Williamson were taken to the count's.
+Major Benson, who was a famous _whip_, took his seat on the box of
+the barouche; and the rest of the party had the pleasure of her
+ladyship's conversation for three or four miles: of her ladyship's
+conversation--for Lord Colambre's thoughts were far distant; Captain
+Williamson had not any thing to say; and Heathcock nothing but "Eh!
+re'lly now!--'pon honour!"
+
+They arrived at Halloran Castle--a fine old building, part of it in
+ruins, and part repaired with great judgment and taste. When the
+carriage stopped, a respectable-looking man-servant appeared on the
+steps, at the open hall-door.
+
+Count O'Halloran was out fishing; but his servant said that he would
+he at home immediately, if Lady Dashfort and the gentlemen would be
+pleased to walk in.
+
+On one side of the lofty and spacious hall stood the skeleton of an
+elk; on the other side, the perfect skeleton of a moose-deer, which,
+as the servant said, his master had made out, with great care, from
+the different bones of many of this curious species of deer, found
+in the lakes in the neighbourhood. The leash of officers witnessed
+their wonder with sundry strange oaths and exclamations.--"Eh! 'pon
+honour--re'lly now!" said Heathcock; and, too genteel to wonder at
+or admire any thing in the creation, dragged out his watch with some
+difficulty, saying, "I wonder now whether they are likely to think of
+giving us any thing to eat in this place?" And, turning his back upon
+the moose-deer, he straight walked out again upon the steps, called to
+his groom, and began to make some inquiry about his led horse. Lord
+Colambre surveyed the prodigious skeletons with rational curiosity,
+and with that sense of awe and admiration, by which a superior mind is
+always struck on beholding any of the great works of Providence.
+
+"Come, my dear lord!" said Lady Dashfort; "with our sublime
+sensations, we are keeping my old friend, Mr. Ulick Brady, this
+venerable person, waiting to show us into the reception-room."
+
+The servant bowed respectfully--more respectfully than servants of
+modern date.
+
+"My lady, the reception-room has been lately painted,--the smell of
+paint may be disagreeable; with your leave, I will take the liberty of
+showing you into my master's study."
+
+He opened the door, went in before her, and stood holding up his
+finger, as if making a signal of silence to some one within. Her
+ladyship entered, and found herself in the midst of an odd assembly:
+an eagle, a goat, a dog, an otter, several gold and silver fish in a
+glass globe, and a white mouse in a cage. The eagle, quick of eye but
+quiet of demeanour, was perched upon his stand; the otter lay under
+the table, perfectly harmless; the Angora goat, a beautiful and
+remarkably little creature of its kind, with long, curling, silky
+hair, was walking about the room with the air of a beauty and a
+favourite; the dog, a tall Irish greyhound--one of the few of that
+fine race, which is now almost extinct--had been given to Count
+O'Halloran by an Irish nobleman, a relation of Lady Dashfort's. This
+dog, who had formerly known her ladyship, looked at her with ears
+erect, recognized her, and went to meet her the moment she entered.
+The servant answered for the peaceable behaviour of all the rest of
+the company of animals, and retired. Lady Dashfort began to feed the
+eagle from a silver plate on his stand; Lord Colambre examined the
+inscription on his collar; the other men stood in amaze. Heathcock,
+who came in last, astonished out of his constant "Eh! re'lly now!"
+the moment he put himself in at the door, exclaimed, "Zounds! what's
+all this live lumber?" and he stumbled over the goat, who was at that
+moment crossing the way. The colonel's spur caught in the goat's curly
+beard; the colonel shook his foot, and entangled the spur worse and
+worse; the goat struggled and butted; the colonel skated forward on
+the polished oak floor, balancing himself with outstretched arms.
+
+The indignant eagle screamed, and, passing by, perched on Heathcock's
+shoulders. Too well bred to have recourse to the terrors of his beak,
+he scrupled not to scream, and flap his wings about the colonel's
+ears. Lady Dashfort, the while, threw herself back in her chair,
+laughing, and begging Heathcock's pardon. "Oh, take care of the dog,
+my dear colonel!" cried she; "for this kind of dog seizes his enemy by
+the back, and shakes him to death." The officers, holding their sides,
+laughed and begged--no pardon; while Lord Colambre, the only person
+who was not absolutely incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur,
+and to liberate the colonel from the goat, and the goat from the
+colonel; an attempt in which he at last succeeded, at the expense of
+a considerable portion of the goat's beard. The eagle, however, still
+kept his place; and, yet mindful of the wrongs of his insulted friend
+the goat, had stretched his wings to give another buffet. Count
+O'Halloran entered; and the bird, quitting his prey, flew down to
+greet his master. The count was a fine old military-looking gentleman,
+fresh from fishing: his fishing accoutrements hanging carelessly
+about him, he advanced, unembarrassed, to Lady Dashfort; and received
+his other guests with a mixture of military ease and gentlemanlike
+dignity.
+
+Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation in which he
+had found poor Heathcock, he apologized in general for his troublesome
+favourites. "For one of them," said he, patting the head of the dog,
+which lay quiet at Lady Dashfort's feet, "I see I have no need to
+apologize; he is where he ought to be. Poor fellow! he has never lost
+his taste for the good company to which he was early accustomed. As
+to the rest," said he, turning to Lady Dashfort, "a mouse, a bird,
+and a fish, are, you know, tribute from earth, air, and water, to a
+conqueror--"
+
+"But from no barbarous Scythian!" said Lord Colambre, smiling. The
+count looked at Lord Colambre, as at a person worthy his attention;
+but his first care was to keep the peace between his loving subjects
+and his foreign visitors. It was difficult to dislodge the old
+settlers, to make room for the new comers: but he adjusted these
+things with admirable facility; and, with a master's hand and master's
+eye, compelled each favourite to retreat into the back settlements.
+With becoming attention, he stroked and kept quiet old Victory, his
+eagle, who eyed Colonel Heathcock still, as if he did not like him;
+and whom the colonel eyed as if he wished his neck fairly wrung off.
+The little goat had nestled himself close up to his liberator, Lord
+Colambre, and lay perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed, going very
+wisely to sleep, and submitting philosophically to the loss of one
+half of his beard. Conversation now commenced, and was carried on by
+Count O'Halloran with much ability and spirit, and with such quickness
+of discrimination and delicacy of taste, as quite surprised and
+delighted our hero. To the lady the count's attention was first
+directed: he listened to her as she spoke, bending with an air of
+deference and devotion. She made her request for permission for Major
+Benson and Captain Williamson to hunt and shoot in his grounds next
+season: this was instantly granted.
+
+Her ladyship's requests were to him commands, the count said.--His
+gamekeeper should be instructed to give the gentlemen, her friends,
+every liberty, and all possible assistance.
+
+Then, turning to the officers, he said, he had just heard that
+several regiments of English militia had lately landed in Ireland;
+that one regiment was arrived at Killpatrick's-town. He rejoiced in
+the advantages Ireland, and he hoped he might be permitted to add,
+England, would probably derive from the exchange of the militia
+of both countries: habits would be improved, ideas enlarged. The
+two countries have the same interest; and, from the inhabitants
+discovering more of each other's good qualities, and interchanging
+little good offices in common life, their esteem and affection for
+each other would increase, and rest upon the firm basis of mutual
+utility.
+
+To all this Major Benson answered only, "We are not militia officers."
+
+"The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw," whispered Lady
+Dashfort to Lord Colambre, "and the captain so like the king of
+spades, putting forth one manly leg."
+
+Count O'Halloran now turned the conversation to field sports, and then
+the captain and major opened at once.
+
+"Pray now, sir," said the major, "you fox-hunt in this country, I
+suppose; and now do you manage the thing here as we do? Over night,
+you know, before the hunt, when the fox is out, stopping up the earths
+of the cover we mean to draw, and all the rest for four miles round.
+Next morning we assemble at the cover's side, and the huntsman throws
+in the hounds. The gossip here is no small part of the entertainment:
+but as soon as we hear the hounds give tongue--"
+
+"The favourite hounds," interposed Williamson.
+
+"The favourite hounds, to be sure," continued Benson: "there is a dead
+silence till pug is well out of cover, and the whole pack well in:
+then cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till your lungs crack. Away he
+goes in gallant style, and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes
+a stiff country: then they who haven't pluck lag, see no more of him,
+and, with a fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the
+death."
+
+"Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope," said Lady Dashfort: "I
+was thrown out sadly at one time in the chase."
+
+Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a book in which
+the count's pencil lay, "Pasley on the Military Policy of Great
+Britain;" it was marked with many notes of admiration, and with hands
+pointing to remarkable passages.
+
+"That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind," said the
+count.
+
+Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning with "All
+that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen
+is so trifling--" but at this instant our hero's attention was
+distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this title of a chapter:
+"Burial-place of the Nugents."
+
+"Pray now, sir," said Captain Williamson, "if I don't interrupt you,
+as you are a fisherman too; now in Ireland do you, _Mr._--"
+
+A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood behind him,
+stopped the captain short, as he pronounced the word _Mr._ Like all
+awkward people, he turned directly to ask, by his looks, what was the
+matter.
+
+The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before
+him, determined to have the fishing to himself, and went on with,
+"Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fishing, too, as well as
+hunting?"
+
+The count bowed: "I do not presume to say that, sir."
+
+"But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways?
+Give me leave;" taking the whip from Williamson's reluctant hand,
+"this ways, laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion
+next to your hook, and the point next to your shank, this wise, and
+that wise; and then, sir,--count, you take the hackle of a cock's
+neck--"
+
+"A plover's topping's better," said Williamson.
+
+"And work your gold and silver thread," pursued Benson, "up to your
+wings, and when your head's made, you fasten all."
+
+"But you never showed how your head's made," interrupted Williamson.
+
+"The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man can make a head, I
+suppose: so, sir, you fasten all."
+
+"You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the world stands,"
+cried Williamson.
+
+"Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and dozen, captain:
+and then, sir,--count, you divide your wings with a needle."
+
+"A pin's point will do," said Williamson.
+
+The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet,
+which he had opened for Lady Dashfort's inspection, a little basket
+containing a variety of artificial flies of curious construction,
+which, as he spread them on the table, made Williamson and Benson's
+eyes almost sparkle with delight. There was the _dun-fly_, for the
+month of March; and the _stone-fly_, much in vogue for April; and the
+_ruddy-fly_, of red wool, black silk, and red capon's feathers.
+
+Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of the Nugents,
+wished them all at the bottom of the sea.
+
+"And the _green-fly_, and the _moorish-fly_!" cried Benson, snatching
+them up with transport; "and, chief, the _sad-yellow-fly_, in which
+the fish delight in June; the _sad-yellow-fly_, made with the
+buzzard's wings, bound with black braked hemp, and the _shell-fly_,
+for the middle of July, made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the
+herle of a peacock's tail, famous for creating excellent sport." All
+these and more were spread upon the table before the sportsmen's
+wondering eyes.
+
+"Capital flies! capital, faith!" cried Williamson.
+
+"Treasures, faith, real treasures, by G--!" cried Benson.
+
+"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now," were the first words which Heathcock
+had uttered since his battle with the goat.
+
+"My dear Heathcock, are you alive still?" said Lady Dashfort: "I had
+really forgotten your existence."
+
+So had Count O'Halloran, but he did not say so.
+
+"Your ladyship has the advantage of me there," said Heathcock,
+stretching himself; "I wish I could forget my existence, for, in my
+mind, existence is a horrible _bore_."
+
+"I thought you _was_ a sportsman," said Williamson.
+
+"Well, sir?"
+
+"And a fisherman?"
+
+"Well, sir?"
+
+"Why look you there, sir," pointing to the flies, "and tell a body
+life's a bore."
+
+"One can't _always_ fish or shoot, I apprehend, sir," said Heathcock.
+
+"Not always--but sometimes," said Williamson, laughing; "for I suspect
+shrewdly you've forgot some of your sporting in Bond-street."
+
+"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now!" said the colonel, retreating again
+to his safe entrenchment of affectation, from which he never could
+venture without imminent danger.
+
+"'Pon honour," cried Lady Dashfort, "I can swear for Heathcock, that
+I have eaten excellent hares and ducks of his shooting, which, to my
+knowledge," added she, in a loud whisper, "he bought in the market."
+
+"_Emptum aprum!_" said Lord Colambre to the count, without danger of
+being understood by those whom it concerned.
+
+The count smiled a second time; but politely turning the attention of
+the company from the unfortunate colonel, by addressing himself to
+the laughing sportsmen, "Gentlemen, you seem to value these," said he,
+sweeping the artificial flies from the table into the little basket
+from which they had been taken; "would you do me the honour to accept
+of them? They are all of my own making, and consequently of Irish
+manufacture." Then, ringing the bell, he asked Lady Dashfort's
+permission to have the basket put into her carriage.
+
+Benson and Williamson followed the servant, to prevent them from being
+tossed into the boot. Heathcock stood still in the middle of the room,
+taking snuff.
+
+Count O'Halloran turned from him to Lord Colambre, who had just got
+happily to _the burial-place of the Nugents_, when Lady Dashfort,
+coming between them, and spying the title of the chapter, exclaimed,
+"What have you there?--Antiquities! my delight!--but I never look at
+engravings when I can see realities."
+
+Lord Colambre was then compelled to follow, as she led the way, into
+the hall, where the count took down golden ornaments, and brass-headed
+spears, and jointed horns of curious workmanship, that had been found
+on his estate; and he told of spermaceti wrapped in carpets, and he
+showed small urns, enclosing ashes; and from among these urns he
+selected one, which he put into the hands of Lord Colambre, telling
+him, that it had been lately found in an old abbey-ground in his
+neighbourhood, which had been the burial-place of some of the Nugent
+family.
+
+"I was just looking at the account of it, in the book which you saw
+open on my table.--And as you seem to take an interest in that family,
+my lord, perhaps," said the count, "you may think this urn worth your
+acceptance."
+
+Lord Colambre said, "It would be highly valuable to him--as the
+Nugents were his near relations."
+
+Lady Dashfort little expected this blow; she, however, carried him off
+to the moose-deer, and from moose-deer to round-towers, to various
+architectural antiquities, and to the real and fabulous history of
+Ireland, on all which the count spoke with learning and enthusiasm.
+But now, to Colonel Heathcock's great joy and relief, a handsome
+collation appeared in the dining-room, of which Ulick opened the
+folding-doors.
+
+"Count, you have made an excellent house of your castle," said Lady
+Dashfort.
+
+"It will be, when it is finished," said the count. "I am afraid,"
+added he, smiling, "I live like many other Irish gentlemen, who never
+are, but always to be, blessed with a good house. I began on too large
+a scale, and can never hope to live to finish it."
+
+"'Pon honour! here's a good thing, which I hope we shall live to
+finish," said Heathcock, sitting down before the collation; and
+heartily did he eat of eel-pie, and of Irish ortolans [1], which, as
+Lady Dashfort observed, "afforded him indemnity for the past, and
+security for the future."
+
+[Footnote 1: As it may be satisfactory to a large portion of the
+public, and to all men of taste, the editor subjoins the following
+account of the Irish ortolan, which will convince the world that this
+bird is not in the class of fabulous animals:
+
+"There is a small bird, which is said to be peculiar to the Blasquet
+Islands, called by the Irish, Gourder, the English name of which I
+am at a loss for, nor do I find it mentioned by naturalists. It is
+somewhat larger than a sparrow; the feathers of the back are dark, and
+those of the belly are white; the bill is straight, short, and thick;
+and it is web-footed: they are almost one lump of fat; when roasted,
+of a most delicious taste, and are reckoned to exceed an ortolan; for
+which reason the gentry hereabouts call them the _Irish Ortolan_.
+These birds are worthy of being transmitted a great way to market;
+for ortolans, it is well known, are brought from France to supply the
+markets of London."--See Smith's Account of the County of Kerry, p.
+186.]
+
+"Eh! re'lly now! your Irish ortolans are famous good eating," said
+Heathcock.
+
+"Worth being quartered in Ireland, faith! to taste 'em," said Benson.
+
+The count recommended to Lady Dashfort some of "that delicate
+sweetmeat, the Irish plum."
+
+"Bless me, sir,--count!" cried Williamson, "it's by far the best thing
+of the kind I ever tasted in all my life: where could you get this?"
+
+"In Dublin, at my dear Mrs. Godey's; where _only_, in his majesty's
+dominions, it is to be had," said the count.
+
+The whole vanished in a few seconds.
+
+"'Pon honour! I do believe this is the thing the queen's so fond of,"
+said Heathcock.
+
+Then heartily did he drink of the count's excellent Hungarian wines;
+and, by the common bond of sympathy between those who have no other
+tastes but eating and drinking, the colonel, the major, and the
+captain, were now all the best companions possible for one another.
+
+Whilst "they prolonged the rich repast," Lady Dashfort and Lord
+Colambre went to the window to admire the prospect: Lady Dashfort
+asked the count the name of some distant hill.
+
+"Ah!" said the count, "that hill was once covered with fine wood; but
+it was all cut down two years ago."
+
+"Who could have been so cruel?" said her ladyship.
+
+"I forget the present proprietor's name," said the count; "but he
+is one of those who, according to _the clause of distress_ in their
+leases, _lead, drive, and carry away_, but never _enter_ their lands;
+one of those enemies to Ireland--those cruel absentees!"
+
+Lady Dashfort looked through her glass at the mountain:--Lord Colambre
+sighed, and, endeavouring to pass it off with a smile, said frankly to
+the count, "You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are speaking
+to the son of an Irish absentee family. Nay, do not be shocked, my
+dear sir; I tell you only because I thought it fair to do so: but let
+me assure you, that nothing you could say on that subject could hurt
+me personally, because I feel that I am not, that I never can be, an
+enemy to Ireland. An absentee, voluntarily, I never yet have been; and
+as to the future, I declare--"
+
+"I declare you know nothing of the future," interrupted Lady Dashfort,
+in a half peremptory, half playful tone--"you know nothing: make no
+rash vows, and you will break none."
+
+The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort's genius for intrigue gave
+her an air of frank imprudence, which prevented Lord Colambre from
+suspecting that more was meant than met the ear. The count and he took
+leave of one another with mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to
+have got our hero out of Halloran Castle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Lord Colambre had waited with great impatience for an answer to the
+letter of inquiry which he had written about Miss Nugent's mother. A
+letter from Lady Clonbrony arrived: he opened it with the greatest
+eagerness--passed over "Rheumatism--warm weather--warm bath--Buxton
+balls--Miss Broadhurst--your _friend_, Sir Arthur Berryl, very
+assiduous!" The name of Grace Nugent he found at last, and read as
+follows:--
+
+    "Her mother's maiden name was _St. Omar_; and there was a _faux
+    pas_, certainly. She was, I am told, (for it was before my time,)
+    educated at a convent abroad; and there was an affair with a
+    Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were obliged
+    to hush up. She brought an infant to England with her, and took
+    the name of Reynolds--but none of that family would acknowledge
+    her: and she lived in great obscurity, till your Uncle Nugent saw,
+    fell in love with her, and (knowing her whole history) married
+    her. He adopted the child, gave her his name, and, after some
+    years, the whole story was forgotten. Nothing could be more
+    disadvantageous to Grace than to have it revived: this is the
+    reason we kept it secret."
+
+Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
+
+From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his countenance, she
+guessed the nature of the letter which he had been reading, and for
+the arrival of which he had been so impatient.
+
+"It has worked!" said she to herself. "_Pour le coup Philippe je te
+tiens_!"
+
+Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible than he had ever yet
+seemed to the charms of the fair Isabel.
+
+"Many a tennis-ball, and many a heart, is caught at the rebound," said
+Lady Dashfort. "Isabel! now is your time!"
+
+And so it was--or so, perhaps, it would have been, but for a
+circumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius for intrigue,
+had never taken into her consideration. Count O'Halloran came to
+return the visit which had been paid to him; and, in the course of
+conversation, he spoke of the officers who had been introduced to him,
+and told Lady Dashfort that he had heard a report which shocked him
+much--he hoped it could not be true--that one of these officers had
+introduced his mistress as his wife to Lady Oranmore, who lived in the
+neighbourhood. This officer, it was said, had let Lady Oranmore send
+her carriage for this woman; and that she had dined at Oranmore with
+her ladyship and her daughters. "But I cannot believe it! I cannot
+believe it to be possible, that any gentleman, that any _officer_
+could do such a thing!" said the count.
+
+"And is this all?" exclaimed Lady Dashfort. "Is this all the terrible
+affair, my good count, which has brought your face to this prodigious
+length?"
+
+The count looked at Lady Dashfort with astonishment.
+
+"Such a look of virtuous indignation," continued she, "did I never
+behold on or off the stage. Forgive me for laughing, count; but,
+believe me, comedy goes through the world better than tragedy, and,
+take it all in all, does rather less mischief. As to the thing in
+question, I know nothing about it; I dare say it is not true: but,
+now, suppose it were--it is only a silly _quiz_ of a raw young officer
+upon a prudish old dowager. I know nothing about it, for my part:
+but, after all, what irreparable mischief has been done? Laugh at the
+thing, and then it is a jest--a bad one, perhaps, but still only a
+jest--and there's an end of it: but take it seriously, and there is
+no knowing where it might end--in this poor man's being broke, and in
+half a dozen duels, may be."
+
+"Of that, madam," said the count, "Lady Oranmore's prudence and
+presence of mind have prevented all danger. Her ladyship _would_ not
+understand the insult. She said, or she acted as if she said, '_Je ne
+veux rien voir, rien ecouter, rien savoir._' Lady Oranmore is one of
+the most respectable--"
+
+"Count, I beg your pardon!" interrupted Lady Dashfort; "but I must
+tell you, that your favourite, Lady Oranmore, has behaved very ill
+to me; purposely omitted to invite Isabel to her ball; offended and
+insulted me:--her praises, therefore, cannot be the most agreeable
+subject of conversation you can choose for my amusement; and as to the
+rest, you, who have such variety and so much politeness, will, I am
+sure, have the goodness to indulge my caprice in this instance."
+
+"I shall obey your ladyship, and be silent, whatever pleasure it might
+give me to speak on that subject," said the count; "and I trust Lady
+Dashfort will reward me by the assurance, that, however playfully she
+may have just now spoken, she seriously disapproves, and is shocked."
+
+"Oh, shocked! shocked to death! if that will satisfy you, my dear
+count."
+
+The count, obviously, was not satisfied: he had civil, as well as
+military courage, and his sense of right and wrong could stand against
+the raillery and ridicule of a fine lady.
+
+The conversation ended: Lady Dashfort thought it would have no farther
+consequences; and she did not regret the loss of a man like Count
+O'Halloran, who lived retired in his castle, and who could not have
+any influence upon the opinion of the fashionable world. However, upon
+turning from the count to Lord Colambre, who she thought had been
+occupied with Lady Isabel, and to whom she imagined all this dispute
+was uninteresting, she perceived, by his countenance, that she had
+made a great mistake. Still she trusted that her power over Lord
+Colambre was sufficient easily to efface whatever unfavourable
+impression this conversation had made upon his mind. He had no
+personal interest in the affair; and she had generally found that
+people are easily satisfied about any wrong or insult, public or
+private, in which they have no immediate concern. But all the charms
+of her conversation were now tried in vain to reclaim him from the
+reverie into which he had fallen.
+
+His friend Sir James Brooke's parting advice occurred to our hero: his
+eyes began to open to Lady Dashfort's character; and he was, from this
+moment, freed from her power. Lady Isabel, however, had taken no part
+in all this--she was blameless; and, independently of her mother, and
+in pretended opposition of sentiment, she might have continued to
+retain the influence she had gained over Lord Colambre, but that a
+slight accident revealed to him _her_ real disposition.
+
+It happened, on the evening of this day, that Lady Isabel came into
+the library with one of the young ladies of the house, talking very
+eagerly, without perceiving Lord Colambre, who was sitting in one of
+the recesses reading.
+
+"My dear creature, you are quite mistaken," said Lady Isabel, "he was
+never a favourite of mine; I always detested him; I only flirted with
+him to plague his wife. Oh, that wife! my dear Elizabeth, I do hate,"
+cried she, clasping her hands, and expressing hatred with all her
+soul, and with all her strength. "I detest that Lady de Cressy to such
+a degree, that, to purchase the pleasure of making her feel the pangs
+of jealousy for one hour, look, I would this moment lay down this
+finger and let it be cut off."
+
+The face, the whole figure of Lady Isabel, at this moment, appeared
+to Lord Colambre suddenly metamorphosed; instead of the soft, gentle,
+amiable female, all sweet charity and tender sympathy, formed to love
+and to be loved, he beheld one possessed and convulsed by an evil
+spirit--her beauty, if beauty it could be called, the beauty of a
+fiend. Some ejaculation, which he unconsciously uttered, made Lady
+Isabel start. She saw him--saw the expression of his countenance, and
+knew that all was over.
+
+Lord Colambre, to the utter astonishment and disappointment of Lady
+Dashfort, and to the still greater mortification of Lady Isabel,
+announced this night that it was necessary he should immediately
+pursue his tour in Ireland. We pass over all the castles in the air
+which the young ladies of the family had built, and which now fell
+to the ground. We pass all the civil speeches of Lord and Lady
+Killpatrick; all the vehement remonstrances of Lady Dashfort; and the
+vain sighs of Lady Isabel. To the last moment Lady Dashfort said, "He
+will not go."
+
+But he went; and, when he was gone, Lady Dashfort exclaimed, "That man
+has escaped from me." After a pause, turning to her daughter, she,
+in the most taunting and contemptuous terms, reproached her as the
+cause of this failure, concluding by a declaration, that she must in
+future manage her own affairs, and had best settle her mind to marry
+Heathcock, since every one else was too wise to think of her.
+
+Lady Isabel of course retorted. But we leave this amiable mother and
+daughter to recriminate in appropriate terms, and we follow our hero,
+rejoiced that he has been disentangled from their snares. Those who
+have never been in similar peril will wonder much that he did not
+escape sooner; those who have ever been in like danger will wonder
+more that he escaped at all. They who are best acquainted with the
+heart or imagination of man will be most ready to acknowledge that the
+combined charms of wit, beauty, and flattery, may, for a time, suspend
+the action of right reason in the mind of the greatest philosopher, or
+operate against the resolutions of the greatest of heroes.
+
+Lord Colambre pursued his way to Halloran Castle, desirous, before
+he quitted this part of the country, to take leave of the count, who
+had shown him much civility, and for whose honourable conduct and
+generous character he had conceived a high esteem, which no little
+peculiarities of antiquated dress or manner could diminish. Indeed,
+the old-fashioned politeness of what was formerly called a well-bred
+gentleman pleased him better than the indolent or insolent selfishness
+of modern men of the ton. Perhaps, notwithstanding our hero's
+determination to turn his mind from every thing connected with the
+idea of Miss Nugent, some latent curiosity about the burial-place
+of the Nugents might have operated to make him call upon the count.
+In this hope he was disappointed; for a cross miller, to whom the
+abbey-ground was let, on which the burial-place was found, had taken
+it into his head to refuse admittance, and none could enter his
+ground.
+
+Count O'Halloran was much pleased by Lord Colambre's visit. The
+very day of his arrival at Halloran Castle, the count was going to
+Oranmore; he was dressed, and his carriage was waiting: therefore Lord
+Colambre begged that he might not detain him, and the count requested
+his lordship to accompany him.
+
+"Let me have the honour of introducing you, my lord, to a family,
+with whom, I am persuaded, you will he pleased; by whom you will be
+appreciated; and at whose house you will have an opportunity of seeing
+the best manner of living of the Irish nobility."
+
+Lord Colambre accepted the invitation, and was introduced at Oranmore.
+The dignified appearance and respectable character of Lady Oranmore;
+the charming unaffected manners of her daughters; the air of domestic
+happiness and comfort in her family; the becoming magnificence,
+free from ostentation, in her whole establishment; the respect and
+affection with which she was treated by all who approached her,
+delighted and touched Lord Colambre; the more, perhaps, because he had
+heard this family so unjustly abused; and because he saw Lady Oranmore
+and her daughter in immediate contrast with Lady Dashfort and Lady
+Isabel.
+
+A little circumstance which occurred during this visit, increased his
+interest for the family. When Lady de Cressy's little boys came in
+after dinner, one of them was playing with a seal, which had just been
+torn from a letter. The child showed it to Lord Colambre, and asked
+him to read the motto. The motto was, "Deeds, not words." His friend
+Sir James Brooke's motto, and his arms. Lord Colambre eagerly inquired
+if this family was acquainted with Sir James, and he soon perceived
+that they were not only acquainted with him, but that they were
+particularly interested about him.
+
+Lady Oranmore's second daughter, Lady Harriet, appeared particularly
+pleased by the manner in which Lord Colambre spoke of Sir James. And
+the child, who had now established himself on his lordship's knee,
+turned round, and whispered in his ear, "'Twas aunt Harriet gave me
+the seal; Sir James is to be married to aunt Harriet, and then he will
+be my uncle."
+
+Some of the principal gentry of this part of the country happened to
+dine at Oranmore on one of the days Lord Colambre was there. He
+was surprised at the discovery, that there were so many agreeable,
+well-informed, and well-bred people, of whom, while he was at
+Killpatrick's-town, he had seen nothing. He now discerned how far he
+had been deceived by Lady Dashfort.
+
+Both the count, and Lord and Lady Oranmore, who were warmly attached
+to their country, exhorted him to make himself amends for the time
+he had lost, by seeing with his own eyes, and judging with his
+own understanding, of the country and its inhabitants, during the
+remainder of the time he was to stay in Ireland. The higher classes,
+in most countries, they observed, were generally similar; but, in the
+lower class, he would find many characteristic differences.
+
+When he first came to Ireland, he had been very eager to go and see
+his father's estate, and to judge of the conduct of his agents, and
+the condition of his tenantry; but this eagerness had subsided, and
+the design had almost faded from his mind, whilst under the influence
+of Lady Dashfort's misrepresentations. A mistake, relative to some
+remittance from his banker in Dublin, obliged him to delay his journey
+a few days, and during that time, Lord and Lady Oranmore showed him
+the neat cottages, and well-attended schools, in their neighbourhood.
+They showed him not only what could be done, but what had been done,
+by the influence of great proprietors residing on their own estates,
+and encouraging the people by judicious kindness.
+
+He saw,--he acknowledged the truth of this; but it did not come home
+to his feelings now as it would have done a little while ago. His
+views and plans were altered: he had looked forward to the idea of
+marrying and settling in Ireland, and then every thing in the country
+was interesting to him; but since he had forbidden himself to think of
+a union with Miss Nugent, his mind had lost its object and its spring;
+he was not sufficiently calm to think of the public good; his thoughts
+were absorbed by his private concerns. He knew and repeated to
+himself, that he ought to visit his own and his father's estates, and
+to see the condition of his tenantry; he desired to fulfil his duties,
+but they ceased to appear to him easy and pleasurable, for hope and
+love no longer brightened his prospects.
+
+That he might see and hear more than he could as heir-apparent to
+the estate, he sent his servant to Dublin to wait for him there. He
+travelled _incognito_, wrapped himself in a shabby great-coat, and
+took the name of Evans. He arrived at a village, or, as it was called,
+a town, which bore the name of Colambre. He was agreeably surprised by
+the air of neatness and finish in the houses and in the street, which
+had a nicely swept paved footway. He slept at a small but excellent
+inn,--excellent, perhaps, because it was small, and proportioned to
+the situation and business of the place. Good supper, good bed, good
+attendance; nothing out of repair; no things pressed into services
+for which they were never intended by nature or art. No chambermaid
+slipshod, or waiter smelling of whiskey; but all tight and right, and
+every body doing their own business, and doing it as if it were their
+every day occupation, not as if it were done by particular desire, for
+the first or last time this season. The landlord came in at supper
+to inquire whether any thing was wanted. Lord Colambre took this
+opportunity of entering into conversation with him, and asked him
+to whom the town belonged, and who were the proprietors of the
+neighbouring estates.
+
+"The town belongs to an absentee lord--one Lord Clonbrony, who lives
+always beyond the seas, in London; and who had never seen the town
+since it was a town, to call a town."
+
+"And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this Lord
+Clonbrony?"
+
+"It does, sir; he's a great proprietor, but knows nothing of his
+property, nor of us. Never set foot among us, to my knowledge, since
+I was as high as the table. He might as well be a West India planter,
+and we negroes, for any thing he knows to the contrary--has no more
+care, nor thought about us, than if he were in Jamaica, or the
+other world. Shame for him! But there's too many to keep him in
+countenance."
+
+Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and then inquired who
+managed the estate for this absentee.
+
+"Mr. Burke, sir. And I don't know why God was so kind to give so good
+an agent to an absentee like Lord Clonbrony, except it was for the
+sake of us, who is under him, and knows the blessing, and is thankful
+for the same."
+
+"Very good cutlets," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be good, for Mrs.
+Burke sent her own cook to teach my wife to dress cutlets."
+
+"So the agent is a good agent, is he?"
+
+"He is, thanks be to Heaven! And that's what few can boast, especially
+when the landlord's living over the seas: we have the luck to have got
+a good agent over us, in Mr. Burke, who is a right bred gentleman; a
+snug little property of his own, honestly made; with the good-will,
+and good wishes, and respect of all."
+
+"Does he live in the neighbourhood?"
+
+"Just _convanient_.[1] At the end of the town; in the house on the
+hill as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees about it, all of
+his own planting, grown too; for there's a blessing on all he does,
+and he has done a deal.--There's salad, sir, if you are _partial_ to
+it. Very fine lettuce. Mrs. Burke sent us the plants herself."
+
+[Footnote 1: _Convenient_, near.]
+
+"Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great deal, has he? In
+what way?"
+
+"In every way, sir,--sure was not it he that had improved, and
+fostered, and _made_ the town of Colambre?--no thanks to the
+proprietor, nor to the young man whose name it bears, neither!"
+
+"Have you any porter, pray, sir?"
+
+"We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you'd drink in London, for it's the
+same you get there, I understand, from Cork. And I have some of my own
+brewing, which, they say, you could not tell the difference between it
+and Cork quality--if you'd be pleased to try.--Harry, the corkscrew."
+
+The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be extremely good;
+and the landlord observed it was Mr. Burke encouraged him to learn to
+brew, and lent him his own brewer for a time to teach him.
+
+"Your Mr. Burke, I find, is _apropos_ to porter, _apropos_ to salad,
+_apropos_ to cutlets, _apropos_ to every thing," said Lord Colambre,
+smiling: "he seems to be a very uncommon agent I suppose you are a
+great favourite of his, and you do what you please with him."
+
+"Oh, no, sir, I could not say that; Mr. Burke does not have favourites
+any way; but, according to my deserts, I trust I stand well enough
+with him; for, in truth, he is a right good agent."
+
+Lord Colambre still pressed for particulars; he was an Englishman,
+and a stranger, he said, and did not exactly know what was meant in
+Ireland by a good agent.
+
+"Why, he is the man that will encourage the improving tenant; and show
+no favour or affection, but justice, which comes even to all, and does
+best for all at the long run; and, residing always in the country,
+like Mr. Burke, and understanding country business, and going about
+continually among the tenantry, he knows when to press for the rent,
+and when to leave the money to lay out upon the land; and, according
+as they would want it, can give a tenant a help or a check properly.
+Then no duty work called for, no presents, nor _glove money_, nor
+_sealing money_ even, taken or offered; no underhand hints about
+proposals, when land would be out of lease; but a considerable
+preference, if desarved, to the old tenant, and if not, a fair
+advertisement, and the best offer and tenant accepted: no screwing of
+the land to the highest penny, just to please the head landlord for
+the minute, and ruin him at the end, by the tenant's racking the land,
+and running off with the year's rent; nor no bargains to his own
+relations or friends did Mr. Burke ever give or grant, but all fair
+between landlord and tenant; and that's the thing that will last; and
+that's what I call the good agent."
+
+Lord Colambre poured out a glass of wine, and begged the innkeeper to
+drink the good agent's health, in which he was heartily pledged. "I
+thank your honour:--Mr. Burke's health! and long may he live over and
+amongst us; he saved me from drink and ruin, when I was once inclined
+to it, and made a man of me and all my family."
+
+The particulars we cannot stay to detail; this grateful man, however,
+took pleasure in sounding the praises of his benefactor, and in
+raising him in the opinion of the traveller.
+
+"As you've time, and are curious about such things, sir, perhaps you'd
+walk up to the school that Mrs. Burke has for the poor children; and
+look at the market house, and see how clean he takes a pride to keep
+the town: and any house in the town, from the priest to the parson's,
+that you'd go into, will give you the same character as I do of Mr.
+Burke; from the brogue to the boot, all speak the same of him, and can
+say no other. God for ever bless and keep him over us!"
+
+Upon making further inquiries, every thing the innkeeper had said
+was confirmed by different inhabitants of the village. Lord Colambre
+conversed with the shopkeepers, with the cottagers; and, without
+making any alarming inquiries, he obtained all the information he
+wanted. He went to the village-school--a pretty, cheerful house, with
+a neat garden and a play-green; met Mrs. Burke; introduced himself to
+her as a traveller. The school was shown to him: it was just what it
+ought to be--neither too much nor too little had been attempted; there
+was neither too much interference nor too little attention. Nothing
+for exhibition; care to teach well, without any vain attempt to teach
+in a wonderfully short time. All that experience proves to be useful,
+in both Dr. Bell's and Mr. Lancaster's modes of teaching, Mrs. Burke
+had adopted; leaving it to "graceless zealots" to fight about the
+rest. That no attempts at proselytism had been made, and that no
+illiberal distinctions had been made in his school, Lord Colambre was
+convinced, in the best manner possible, by seeing the children of
+protestants and catholics sitting on the same benches, learning from
+the same books, and speaking to one another with the same cordial
+familiarity. Mrs. Burke was an unaffected, sensible woman, free from
+all party prejudices, and without ostentation, desirous and capable
+of doing good. Lord Colambre was much pleased with her, and very glad
+that she invited him to tea.
+
+Mr. Burke did not come in till late; for he had been detained
+portioning out some meadows, which were of great consequence to the
+inhabitants of the town. He brought home to tea with him the clergyman
+and the priest of the parish, both of whom he had taken successful
+pains to accommodate with the land which suited their respective
+convenience. The good terms on which they seemed to be with each
+other, and with him, appeared to Lord Colambre to do honour to Mr.
+Burke. All the favourable accounts his lordship had received of this
+gentleman were confirmed by what he saw and heard. After the clergyman
+and priest had taken leave, upon Lord Colambre's expressing some
+surprise, mixed with satisfaction, at seeing the harmony which
+subsisted between them, Mr. Burke assured him that this was the
+same in many parts of Ireland. He observed, that "as the suspicion
+of ill-will never fails to produce it," so he had often found,
+that taking it for granted that no ill-will exists, has the most
+conciliating effect. He said, to please opposite parties, he used
+no arts; but he tried to make all his neighbours live comfortably
+together, by making them acquainted with each other's good qualities;
+by giving them opportunities of meeting sociably, and, from time
+to time, of doing each other little services and good offices.
+Fortunately, he had so much to do, he said, that he had no time for
+controversy. He was a plain man, made it a rule not to meddle with
+speculative points, and to avoid all irritating discussions: he was
+not to rule the country, but to live in it, and make others live as
+happily as he could.
+
+Having nothing to conceal in his character, opinions, or
+circumstances, Mr. Burke was perfectly open and unreserved in
+his manner and conversation; freely answered all the traveller's
+inquiries, and took pains to show him every thing he desired to
+see. Lord Colambre said he had thoughts of settling in Ireland; and
+declared, with truth, that he had not seen any part of the country he
+should like better to live in than this neighbourhood. He went over
+most of the estate with Mr. Burke, and had ample opportunities of
+convincing himself that this gentleman was indeed, as the innkeeper
+had described him, "a right good gentleman, and a right good agent."
+
+He paid Mr. Burke some just compliments on the state of the tenantry,
+and the neat and flourishing appearance of the town of Colambre.
+
+"What pleasure it will give the proprietor when he sees all you have
+done!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, sir, don't speak of it!--that breaks my heart; he never has shown
+the least interest in any thing I have done: he is quite dissatisfied
+with me, because I have not ruined his tenantry, by forcing them to
+pay more than the land is worth; because I have not squeezed money
+from them, by fining down rents; and--but all this, as an Englishman,
+sir, must be unintelligible to you. The end of the matter is, that,
+attached as I am to this place and the people about me, and, as I
+hope, the tenantry are to me,--I fear I shall he obliged to give up
+the agency.
+
+"Give up the agency! How so? you must not," cried Lord Colambre, and,
+for the moment, he forgot himself; but Mr. Burke took this only for an
+expression of good-will.
+
+"I must, I am afraid," continued he. "My employer, Lord Clonbrony,
+is displeased with me--continual calls for money come upon me from
+England, and complaints of my slow remittances."
+
+"Perhaps Lord Clonbrony is in embarrassed circumstances," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"I never speak of my employer's affairs, sir," replied Mr. Burke; now
+for the first time assuming an air of reserve.
+
+"I beg pardon, sir--I seem to have asked an indiscreet question." Mr.
+Burke was silent.
+
+"Lest my reserve should give you a false impression, I will add, sir,"
+resumed Mr. Burke, "that I really am not acquainted with the state of
+his lordship's affairs in general. I know only what belongs to the
+estate under my own management. The principal part of his lordship's
+property, the Clonbrony estate, is under another agent, Mr.
+Garraghty."
+
+"Garraghty!" repeated Lord Colambre; "what sort of a person is he? But
+I may take it for granted, that it cannot fall to the lot of one and
+the same absentee to have two such agents as Mr. Burke."
+
+Mr. Burke bowed, and seemed pleased with the compliment, which he
+knew he deserved--but not a word did he say of Mr. Garraghty; and
+Lord Colambre, afraid of betraying himself by some other indiscreet
+question, changed the conversation.
+
+The next night the post brought a letter to Mr. Burke, from Lord
+Clonbrony, which he gave to his wife as soon as he had read it,
+saying, "See the reward of all my services!"
+
+Mrs. Burke glanced her eye over the letter, and being extremely fond
+of her husband, and sensible of his deserving far different treatment,
+burst into indignant exclamations--"See the reward of all your
+services, indeed!--What an unreasonable, ungrateful man!--So, this is
+the thanks for all you have done for Lord Clonbrony!"
+
+"He does not know what I have done, my dear. He never has seen what I
+have done."
+
+"More shame for him!"
+
+"He never, I suppose, looks over his accounts, or understands them."
+
+"More shame for him!"
+
+"He listens to foolish reports, or misrepresentations, perhaps. He is
+at a distance, and cannot find out the truth."
+
+"More shame for him!"
+
+"Take it quietly, my dear; we have the comfort of a good conscience.
+The agency may be taken from me by this lord; but the sense of having
+done my duty, no lord or man upon earth can give or take away."
+
+"Such a letter!" said Mrs. Burke, taking it up again. "Not even the
+civility to write with his own hand!--only his signature to the
+scrawl--looks as if it was written by a drunken man, does not it, Mr.
+Evans?" said she, showing the letter to Lord Colambre, who immediately
+recognized the writing of Sir Terence O'Fay.
+
+"It does not look like the hand of a gentleman, indeed," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"It has Lord Clonbrony's own signature, let it be what it will," said
+Mr. Burke, looking closely at it; "Lord Clonbrony's own writing the
+signature is, I am clear of that."
+
+Lord Clonbrony's son was clear of it, also; but he took care not to
+give any opinion on that point.
+
+"Oh, pray read it, sir, read it," said Mrs. Burke; "read it, pray; a
+gentleman may write a bad hand, but no _gentleman_ could write such
+a letter as that to Mr. Burke--pray read it, sir; you who have seen
+something of what he has done for the town of Colambre, and what he
+has made of the tenantry and the estate of Lord Clonbrony."
+
+Lord Colambre read, and was convinced that his father had never
+written or read the letter, but had signed it, trusting to Sir Terence
+O'Fay's having expressed his sentiments properly.
+
+    "SIR,
+
+    "As I have no farther occasion for your services, you will take
+    notice, that I hereby request you will forthwith hand over, on or
+    before the 1st of November next, your accounts, with the balance
+    due of the _hanging-gale_ (which, I understand, is more than ought
+    to be at this season) to Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., College-green,
+    Dublin, who, in future, will act as agent, and shall get, by post,
+    immediately, a power of attorney for the same, entitling him to
+    receive and manage the Colambre, as well as the Clonbrony estate,
+    for,
+
+    "Sir, your obedient humble servant,
+
+    "CLONBRONY.
+
+    "_Grosvenor-square_."
+
+Though misrepresentation, caprice, or interest, might have induced
+Lord Clonbrony to desire to change his agent, yet Lord Colambre knew
+that his father never could have announced his wishes in such a style;
+and, as he returned the letter to Mrs. Burke, he repeated, he was
+convinced that it was impossible that any nobleman could have written
+such a letter; that it must have been written by some inferior person;
+and that his lordship had signed it without reading it.
+
+"My dear, I'm sorry you showed that letter to Mr. Evans," said Mr.
+Burke; "I don't like to expose Lord Clonbrony; he is a well-meaning
+gentleman, misled by ignorant or designing people; at all events, it
+is not for us to expose him."
+
+"He has exposed himself," said Mrs. Burke; "and the world should know
+it."
+
+"He was very kind to me when I was a young man," said Mr. Burke; "we
+must not forget that now, because we are angry, my love."
+
+"Why, no, my love, to be sure we should not; but who could have
+recollected it just at this minute but yourself? And now, sir,"
+turning to Lord Colambre, "you see what kind of a man this is: now is
+it not difficult for me to bear patiently to see him ill-treated?"
+
+"Not only difficult, but impossible, I should think, madam," said Lord
+Colambre; "I know even I, who am a stranger, cannot help feeling for
+both of you, as you must see I do."
+
+"But half the world, who don't know him," continued Mrs. Burke, "when
+they hear that Lord Clonbrony's agency is taken from him, will think
+perhaps that he is to blame."
+
+"No, madam," said Lord Colambre, "that you need not fear; Mr. Burke
+may safely trust to his character: from what I have within these two
+days seen and heard, I am convinced that such is the respect he has
+deserved and acquired, that no blame can touch him."
+
+"Sir, I thank you," said Mrs. Burke, the tears coming into her eyes:
+"you can judge--you do him justice; but there are so many who don't
+know him, and who will decide without knowing any of the facts."
+
+"That, my dear, happens about every thing to every body," said Mr.
+Burke; "but we must have patience; time sets all judgments right,
+sooner or later."
+
+"But the sooner the better," said Mrs. Burke. "Mr. Evans, I hope you
+will be so kind, if ever you hear this business talked of--"
+
+"Mr. Evans lives in Wales, my dear."
+
+"But he is travelling through Ireland, my dear, and he said he should
+return to Dublin, and, you know, there he certainly will hear it
+talked of; and I hope he will do me the favour to state what he has
+seen and knows to be the truth."
+
+"Be assured that I will do Mr. Burke justice--as far as it is in my
+power," said Lord Colambre, restraining himself much, that he might
+not say more than became his assumed character. He took leave of this
+worthy family that night, and, early the next morning, departed.
+
+"Ah!" thought he, as he drove away from this well-regulated and
+flourishing place, "how happy I might be, settled here with such a
+wife as--her of whom I must think no more."
+
+He pursued his way to Clonbrony, his father's other estate, which was
+at a considerable distance from Colambre: he was resolved to know what
+kind of agent Mr. Nicholas Garraghty might be, who was to supersede
+Mr. Burke, and, by power of attorney, to be immediately entitled to
+receive and manage the Colambre as well as the Clonbrony estate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+Towards the evening of the second day's journey, the driver of Lord
+Colambre's hackney chaise stopped, and jumping off the wooden bar, on
+which he had been seated, exclaimed, "We're come to the bad step, now.
+The bad road's beginning upon us, please your honour."
+
+"Bad road! that is very uncommon in this country. I never saw such
+fine roads as you have in Ireland."
+
+"That's true; and God bless your honour, that's sensible of that same,
+for it's not what all the foreign quality I drive have the manners to
+notice. God bless your honour! I heard you're a Welshman, but whether
+or no, I am sure you are a jantleman, any way, Welsh or other."
+
+Notwithstanding the shabby great coat, the shrewd postilion perceived,
+by our hero's language, that he was a gentleman. After much dragging
+at the horses' heads, and pushing and lifting, the carriage was got
+over what the postilion said was the worst part of the _bad step_; but
+as the road "was not yet to say good," he continued walking beside the
+carriage.
+
+"It's only bad just hereabouts, and that by accident," said he, "on
+account of there being no jantleman resident in it, nor near; but only
+a bit of an under-agent, a great little rogue, who gets his own turn
+out of the roads, and every thing else in life. I, Larry Brady, that
+am telling your honour, have a good right to know; for myself, and my
+father, and my brother, Pat Brady, the wheelwright, had once a farm
+under him; but was ruined, horse and foot, all along with him, and
+cast out, and my brother forced to fly the country, and is now working
+in some coachmaker's yard, in London; banished he is!--and here am I,
+forced to be what I am--and now that I'm reduced to drive a hack, the
+agent's a curse to me still, with these bad roads, killing my horses
+and wheels--and a shame to the country, which I think more of--Bad
+luck to him!"
+
+"I know your brother; he lives with Mr. Mordicai, in Long-Acre, in
+London."
+
+"Oh, God bless you for that!"
+
+They came at this time within view of a range of about four-and-twenty
+men and boys, sitting astride on four-and-twenty heaps of broken
+stones, on each side of the road; they were all armed with hammers,
+with which they began to pound with great diligence and noise as soon
+as they saw the carriage. The chaise passed between these batteries,
+the stones flying on all sides.
+
+"How are you, Jem?--How are you Phil?" said Larry. "But hold your
+hand, can't ye, while I stop and get the stones out of the horses'
+_feet_. So you're making up the rent, are you, for St. Dennis?"
+
+"Whoosh!" said one of the pounders, coming close to the postilion, and
+pointing his thumb back towards the chaise. "Who have you in it?"
+
+"Oh, you need not scruple, he's a very honest man;--he's only a man
+from North Wales, one Mr. Evans, an innocent jantleman, that's sent
+over to travel up and down the country, to find is there any copper
+mines in it."
+
+"How do you know, Larry?"
+
+"Because I know very well, from one that was tould, and I _seen_ him
+tax the man of the King's Head with a copper half-crown at first
+sight, which was only lead to look at, you'd think, to them that was
+not skilful in copper. So lend me a knife, till I cut a linchpin out
+of the hedge, for this one won't go far."
+
+Whilst Larry was making the linchpin, all scruple being removed, his
+question about St. Dennis and the rent was answered.
+
+"Ay, it's the rint, sure enough, we're pounding out for him; for he
+sent the driver round last night-was-eight days, to warn us Old Nick
+would be down a'-Monday, to take a sweep among us; and there's only
+six clear days, Saturday night, before the assizes, sure: so we must
+see and get it finished any way, to clear the presentment again' the
+swearing day, for he and Paddy Hart is the overseers themselves, and
+Paddy is to swear to it."
+
+"St. Dennis, is it? Then you've one great comfort and security--that
+he won't be _particular_ about the swearing; for since ever he had his
+head on his shoulders, an oath never stuck in St. Dennis's throat,
+more than in his own brother, Old Nick's."
+
+"His head upon his shoulders!" repeated Lord Colambre. "Pray, did you
+ever hear that St. Dennis's head was off his shoulders?"
+
+"It never was, plase your honour, to my knowledge."
+
+"Did you never, among your saints, hear of St. Dennis carrying his
+head in his hand?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"The _rael_ saint!" said the postilion, suddenly changing his tone,
+and looking shocked. "Oh, don't be talking that way of the saints,
+plase your honour."
+
+"Then of what St. Dennis were you talking just now?--Whom do you mean
+by St. Dennis, and whom do you call Old Nick?"
+
+"Old Nick," answered the postilion, coming close to the side of the
+carriage, and whispering,--"Old Nick, plase your honour, is our
+nickname for one Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., of College-green, Dublin,
+and St. Dennis is his brother Dennis, who is Old Nick's brother in all
+things, and would fain be a saint, only he's a sinner. He lives just
+by here, in the country, under-agent to Lord Clonbrony, as Old Nick is
+upper-agent--it's only a joke among the people, that are not fond of
+them at all. Lord Clonbrony himself is a very good jantleman, if he
+was not an absentee, resident in London, leaving us and every thing to
+the likes of them."
+
+Lord Colambre listened with all possible composure and attention;
+but the postilion, having now made his linchpin of wood, and _fixed
+himself_, he mounted his bar, and drove on, saying to Lord Colambre,
+as he looked at the road-makers, "Poor _cratures_! They couldn't keep
+their cattle out of pound, or themselves out of jail, but by making
+this road."
+
+"Is road-making, then, a very profitable business!--Have road-makers
+higher wages than other men in this part of the country?"
+
+"It is, and it is not--they have, and they have not--plase your
+honour."
+
+"I don't understand you."
+
+"No, beca-ase you're an Englishman--that is, a Welshman--beg your
+honour's pardon. But I'll tell you how that is, and I'll go slow over
+these broken stones--for I can't go fast: it is where there's no
+jantleman over these under-agents, as here, they do as they plase;
+and when they have set the land they get rasonable from the head
+landlords, to poor cratures at a rackrent, that they can't live and
+pay the rent, they say--"
+
+"Who says?"
+
+"Them under-agents, that have no conscience at all. Not all--but
+_some_, like Dennis, says, says he, 'I'll get you a road to make
+up the rent:' that is, plase your honour, the agent gets them a
+presentment for so many perches of road from the grand jury, at twice
+the price that would make the road. And tenants are, by this means, as
+they take the road by contract, at the price given by the county, able
+to pay all they get by the job, over and above potatoes and salt, back
+again to the agent, for the arrear on the land. Do I make your honour
+_sensible_[1]?"
+
+[Footnote 1: Do I make you understand?]
+
+"You make me much more sensible than I ever was before," said Lord
+Colambre: "but is not this cheating the county?"
+
+"Well, and suppose," replied Larry, "is not it all for my good, and
+yours too, plase your honour?" said Larry, looking very shrewdly.
+
+"My good!" said Lord Colambre, startled. "What have I to do with it?"
+
+"Haven't you to do with the roads as well as me, when you're
+travelling upon them, plase your honour? And sure, they'd never be
+got made at all, if they wern't made this ways; and it's the best way
+in the wide world, and the finest roads we have. And when the _rael_
+jantleman's resident in the country, there's no jobbing can be,
+because they're then the leading men on the grand jury; and these
+journeymen jantlemen are then kept in order, and all's right."
+
+Lord Colambre was much surprised at Larry's knowledge of the manner in
+which county business is managed, as well as by his shrewd good sense:
+he did not know that this is not uncommon in his rank of life in
+Ireland.
+
+Whilst Larry was speaking, Lord Colambre was looking from side to side
+at the desolation of the prospect.
+
+"So this is Lord Clonbrony's estate, is it?"
+
+"Ay, all you see, and as far and farther than you can see. My Lord
+Clonbrony wrote, and ordered plantations here, time back; and enough
+was paid to labourers for ditching and planting. And, what next?--Why,
+what did the under-agent do, but let the goats in through gaps, left
+o' purpose, to bark the trees, and then the trees was all banished.
+And next, the cattle was let in trespassing, and winked at, till the
+land was all poached: and then the land was waste, and cried down:
+and Saint Dennis wrote up to Dublin to Old Nick, and he over to the
+landlord, how none would take it, or bid any thing at all for it: so
+then it fell to him a cheap bargain. Oh, the tricks of them! who knows
+'em, if I don't?" Presently, Lord Colambre's attention was roused
+again, by seeing a man running, as if for his life, across a bog, near
+the roadside: he leaped over the ditch, and was upon the road in an
+instant. He seemed startled at first, at the sight of the carriage;
+but, looking at the postilion, Larry nodded, and he smiled and said,
+"All's safe!" "Pray, my good friend, may I ask what that is you have
+on your shoulder?" said Lord Colambre. "_Plase_ your honour, it
+is only a private still, which I've just caught out yonder in the
+bog; and I'm carrying it in with all speed to the gauger, to make a
+discovery, that the jantleman may benefit by the reward: I expect
+he'll make me a compliment."
+
+"Get up behind, and I'll give you a lift," said the postilion.
+
+"Thank you kindly--but better my legs!" said the man; and, turning
+down a lane, off he ran again, as fast as possible.
+
+"Expect he'll make me a compliment," repeated Lord Colambre, "to make
+a discovery!"
+
+"Ay, plase your honour; for the law is," said Larry, "that, if an
+unlawful still, that is, a still without licence for whiskey, is
+found, half the benefit of the fine that's put upon the parish goes to
+him that made the discovery: that's what that man is after; for he's
+an informer."
+
+"I should not have thought, from what I see of you," said Lord
+Colambre, smiling, "that you, Larry, would have offered an informer a
+lift."
+
+"Oh, plase your honour!" said Larry, smiling archly, "would not I give
+the laws a lift, when in my power?"
+
+Scarcely had he uttered these words, and scarcely was the informer out
+of sight, when, across the same bog, and over the ditch, came another
+man, a half kind of gentleman, with a red silk handkerchief about his
+neck, and a silver-handled whip in his hand.
+
+"Did you see any man pass the road, friend?" said he to the postilion.
+
+"Oh! who would I see? or why would I tell?" replied Larry in a sulky
+tone.
+
+"Come, come, be smart!" said the man with the silver whip, offering
+to put half-a-crown into the postilion's hand; "point me which way he
+took."
+
+"I'll have none o' your silver! don't touch me with it!" said Larry.
+"But, if you'll take my advice, you'll strike across back, and follow
+the fields, out to Killogenesawce."
+
+The exciseman set out again immediately, in an opposite direction to
+that which the man who carried the still had taken. Lord Colambre now
+perceived that the pretended informer had been running off to conceal
+a still of his own.
+
+"The gauger, plase your honour," said Larry, looking back at Lord
+Colambre; "the gauger is a _still-hunting_!"
+
+"And you put him on a wrong scent!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Sure, I told him no lie: I only said, 'If you'll take my advice.' And
+why was he such a fool as to take my advice, when I wouldn't take his
+fee?"
+
+"So this is the way, Larry, you give a lift to the laws!"
+
+"If the laws would give a lift to me, plase your honour, may be I'd do
+as much by them. But it's only these revenue laws I mean; for I never,
+to my knowledge, broke another commandment: but it's what no honest
+poor man among his neighbours would scruple to take--a glass of
+_potsheen_."
+
+"A glass of what, in the name of Heaven?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"_Potsheen_, plase your honour;--beca-ase it's the little whiskey
+that's made in the private still or pot; and _sheen_, because it's a
+fond word for whatsoever we'd like, and for what we have little of,
+and would make much of: after taking the glass of it, no man could go
+and inform to ruin the _cratures_; for they all shelter on that estate
+under favour of them that go shares, and make rent of 'em--but I'd
+never inform again' 'em. And, after all, if the truth was known, and
+my Lord Clonbrony should be informed against, and presented, for it's
+his neglect is the bottom of the nuisance--"
+
+"I find all the blame is thrown upon this poor Lord Clonbrony," said
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"Because he is absent," said Larry: "it would not be so was he
+_prisint_. But your honour was talking to me about the laws. Your
+honour's a stranger in this country, and astray about them things.
+Sure, why would I mind the laws about whiskey, more than the quality,
+or the _jidge_ on the bench?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Why! was not I _prisint_ in the court-house myself, when the _jidge_
+was on the bench judging a still, and across the court came in one
+with a sly jug of _potsheen_ for the _jidge_ himself, who _prefarred_
+it, when the right thing, to claret; and when I _seen_ that, by the
+laws! a man might talk himself dumb to me after again' potsheen, or in
+favour of the revenue, or revenue officers. And there they may go on,
+with their gaugers, and their surveyors, and their supervisors, and
+their watching officers, and their coursing officers, setting 'em
+one after another, or one over the head of another, or what way they
+will--we can baffle and laugh at 'em. Didn't I know, next door to our
+inn, last year, ten _watching officers_ set upon one distiller, and
+he was too cunning for them; and it will always be so, while ever
+the people think it no sin. No, till then, not all their dockets and
+permits signify a rush, or a turf. And the gauging rod, even! who
+fears it? They may spare that rod, for it will never mend the child."
+
+How much longer Larry's dissertation on the distillery laws would have
+continued, had not his ideas been interrupted, we cannot guess; but he
+saw he was coming to a town, and he gathered up the reins, and plied
+the whip, ambitious to make a figure in the eyes of its inhabitants.
+
+This _town_ consisted of one row of miserable huts, sunk beneath the
+side of the road, the mud walls crooked in every direction; some of
+them opening in wide cracks, or zigzag fissures, from top to bottom,
+as if there had just been an earthquake--all the roofs sunk in various
+places--thatch off, or overgrown with grass--no chimneys, the smoke
+making its way through a hole in the roof, or rising in clouds from
+the top of the open door--dunghills before the doors, and green
+standing puddles--squalid children, with scarcely rags to cover them,
+gazing at the carriage.
+
+"Nugent's town," said the postilion, "once a snug place, when my Lady
+Clonbrony was at home to white-wash it, and the like."
+
+As they drove by, some men and women put their heads through the smoke
+out of the cabins; pale women, with long, black, or yellow locks--men
+with countenances and figures bereft of hope and energy.
+
+"Wretched, wretched people!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Then it's not their fault, neither," said Larry; "for my uncle's one
+of them, and as thriving and hard a working man as could be in all
+Ireland, he was, _afore_ he was tramped under foot, and his heart
+broke. I was at his funeral, this time last year; and for it, may the
+agent's own heart, if he has any, burn in--"
+
+Lord Colambre interrupted this denunciation by touching Larry's
+shoulder, and asking some question, which, as Larry did not distinctly
+comprehend, he pulled up the reins, and the various noises of the
+vehicle stopped suddenly.
+
+"I did not hear well, plase your honour."
+
+"What are those people?" pointing to a man and woman, curious figures,
+who had come out of a cabin, the door of which the woman, who came out
+last, locked, and carefully hiding the key in the thatch, turned her
+back upon the man, and they walked away in different directions: the
+woman bending under a huge bundle on her back, covered by a yellow
+petticoat turned over her shoulders; from the top of this bundle the
+head of an infant appeared; a little boy, almost naked, followed her
+with a kettle, and two girls, one of whom could but just walk, held
+her hand and clung to her ragged petticoat; forming, all together, a
+complete group of beggars. The woman stopped, and looked after the
+man.
+
+The man was a Spanish-looking figure, with gray hair; a wallet hung
+at the end of a stick over one shoulder, a reaping-hook in the other
+hand: he walked off stoutly, without ever casting a look behind him.
+
+"A kind harvest to you, John Dolan," cried the postilion, "and success
+to ye, Winny, with the quality. There's a luck-penny for the child
+to begin with," added he, throwing the child a penny. "Your honour,
+they're only poor _cratures_ going up the country to beg, while the
+man goes over to reap the harvest in England. Nor this would not be,
+neither, if the lord was in it to give 'em _employ_. That man, now,
+was a good and willing _slave_ in his day: I mind him working with
+myself in the shrubberies at Clonbrony Castle, when I was a boy--but
+I'll not be detaining your honour, now the road's better."
+
+The postilion drove on at a good rate for some time, till he came to
+a piece of the road freshly covered with broken stones, where he was
+obliged again to go slowly.
+
+They overtook a string of cars, on which were piled up high, beds,
+tables, chairs, trunks, boxes, band-boxes.
+
+"How are you, Finnucan? you've fine loading there--from Dublin, are
+you?"
+
+"From Bray."
+
+"And what news?"
+
+"_Great_ news and bad for Old Nick, or some belonging to him, thanks
+be to Heaven! for myself hates him."
+
+"What's happened him?"
+
+"His sister's husband that's failed, the great grocer that was, the
+man that had the wife that _ow'd_[1] the fine house near Bray, that
+they got that time the parliament _flitted_, and that I seen in her
+carriage flaming--well, it's all out; they're all _done up_."
+
+[Footnote 1: Owned.]
+
+"Tut! is that all? then they'll thrive, and set up again grander than
+ever, I'll engage: have not they Old Nick for an attorney at their
+back? a good warrant?"
+
+"Oh, trust him for that! he won't go _security_, nor pay a farthing,
+for his _shister_, nor wouldn't, was she his father; I heard him
+telling her so, which I could not have done in his place, at that
+time, and she crying as if her heart would break, and I standing by in
+the parlour."
+
+"The _neger_[1]! And did he speak that way, and you by?"
+
+[Footnote 1: _Neger_, quasi negro; meo periculo, _niggard_]
+
+"Ay, did he; and said, 'Mrs. Raffarty,' says he, 'it's all your own
+fault; you're an extravagant fool, and ever was, and I wash my hands
+of you.' that was the word he spoke; and she answered, and said, 'And
+mayn't I send the beds and blankets?' said she, 'and what I can, by
+the cars, out of the way of the creditors, to Clonbrony Castle? and
+won't you let me hide there, from the shame, till the bustle's over?'
+'You may do that,' says he, 'for what I care; but remember,' says he,
+'that I've the first claim to them goods;' and that's all he would
+grant. So they are coming down all o' Monday--them are the band-boxes,
+and all--to settle it; and faith it was a pity of her! to hear her
+sobbing, and to see her own brother speak and look so hard! and she a
+lady."
+
+"Sure, she's not a lady born, no more than himself," said Larry; "but
+that's no excuse for him. His heart's as hard as that stone," said
+Larry; "and my own people knew that long ago, and now his own know it:
+and what right have we to complain, since he's as bad to his own flesh
+and blood as to us?"
+
+With this consolation, and with a "God speed you," given to the
+carman, Larry was driving off; but the carman called to him, and
+pointed to a house, at the corner of which, on a high pole, was
+swinging an iron sign of three horse-shoes, set in a crooked frame,
+and at the window hung an empty bottle, proclaiming whiskey within.
+
+"Well, I don't care if I do," said Larry; "for I've no other comfort
+left me in life now. I beg your honour's pardon, sir, for a minute,"
+added he, throwing the reins into the carriage to Lord Colambre, as he
+leaped down. All remonstrance and power of lungs to reclaim him were
+vain! He darted into the whiskey-house with the carman--re-appeared
+before Lord Colambre could accomplish getting out, remounted his seat,
+and, taking the reins, "I thank your honour," said he; "and I'll bring
+you into Clonbrony before it's pitch-dark, though it's nightfall, and
+that's four good miles, but 'a spur in the head is worth two in the
+heel.'"
+
+Larry, to demonstrate the truth of his favourite axiom, drove off at
+such a furious rate over great stones left in the middle of the road
+by carmen, who had been driving in the gudgeons of their axletrees to
+hinder them from lacing[1], that Lord Colambre thought life and limb
+in imminent danger; and feeling that, at all events, the jolting and
+bumping was past endurance, he had recourse to Larry's shoulder, and
+shook and pulled, and called to him to go slower, but in vain: at
+last the wheel struck full against a heap of stones at a turn of the
+road, the wooden linchpin came off, and the chaise was overset: Lord
+Colambre was a little bruised, but glad to escape without fractured
+bones.
+
+[Footnote 1: _Opening_; perhaps, from _lacher_, to loosen.]
+
+"I beg your honour's pardon," said Larry, completely sobered; "I'm as
+glad as the best pair of boots ever I see, to see your honour nothing
+the worse for it. It was the linchpin, and them barrows of loose
+stones, that ought to be fined any way, if there was any justice in
+the country."
+
+"The pole is broke; how are we to get on?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Murder! murder!--and no smith nearer than Clonbrony; nor rope even.
+It's a folly to talk, we can't get to Clonbrony, nor stir a step
+backward or forward the night."
+
+"What, then, do you mean to leave me all night in the middle of the
+road?" cried Lord Colambre, quite exasperated.
+
+"Is it me? plase your honour. I would not use any jantleman so ill,
+_barring_ I could do no other," replied the postilion, coolly: then,
+leaping across the ditch, or, as he called it, the _gripe_ of the
+ditch, he scrambled up, and while he was scrambling, said, "If your
+honour will lend me your hand, till I pull you up the back of the
+ditch, the horses will stand while we go. I'll find you as pretty
+a lodging for the night, with a widow of a brother of my shister's
+husband that was, as ever you slept in your life; for Old Nick or St.
+Dennis has not found 'em out yet: and your honour will he, no compare,
+snugger than at the inn at Clonbrony, which has no roof, the devil a
+stick. But where will I get your honour's hand; for it's coming on so
+dark, I can't see rightly. There, you're up now safe. Yonder candle's
+the house."
+
+"Go and ask whether they can give us a night's lodging."
+
+"Is it _ask_? when I see the light!--Sure they'd be proud to give the
+traveller all the beds in the house, let alone one. Take care of the
+potatoe furrows, that's all, and follow me straight. I'll go on to
+meet the dog, who knows me, and might be strange to your honour."
+
+"Kindly welcome," were the first words Lord Colambre heard when he
+approached the cottage; and "kindly welcome" was in the sound of the
+voice and in the countenance of the old woman who came out, shading
+her rush-candle from the wind, and holding it so as to light the path.
+When he entered the cottage, he saw a cheerful fire and a neat pretty
+young woman making it blaze; she curtsied, put her spinning-wheel out
+of the way, set a stool by the fire for the stranger, and repeating,
+in a very low tone of voice, "Kindly welcome, sir," retired.
+
+"Put down some eggs, dear, there's plenty in the bowl," said the old
+woman, calling to her; "I'll do the bacon. Was not we lucky to be
+up?--The boy's gone to bed, but waken him," said she, turning to the
+postilion; "and he'll help you with the chay, and put your horses in
+the bier for the night."
+
+No: Larry chose to go on to Clonbrony with the horses, that he might
+get the chaise mended betimes for his honour. The table was set; clean
+trenchers, hot potatoes, milk, eggs, bacon, and "kindly welcome to
+all."
+
+"Set the salt, dear; and the butter, love: where's your head, Grace,
+dear."
+
+"Grace!" repeated Lord Colambre, looking up: and, to apologize for
+his involuntary exclamation, he added, "Is Grace a common name in
+Ireland?"
+
+"I can't say, plase your honour; but it was give her by Lady
+Clonbrony, from a niece of her own, God bless her! and a very kind
+lady she was to us and to all when she was living in it; but those
+times are gone past," said the old woman, with a sigh. The young woman
+sighed too; and, sitting down by the fire, began to count the notches
+in a little bit of stick, which she held in her hand; and after she
+had counted them, sighed again.
+
+"But don't be sighing, Grace, now," said the old woman; "sighs is bad
+sauce for the traveller's supper; and we won't be troubling him with
+more," added she, turning to Lord Colambre with a smile.
+
+"Is your egg done to your liking?"
+
+"Perfectly, thank you."
+
+"Then I wish it was a chicken, for your sake, which it should have
+been, and roast too, had we time. I wish I could see you eat another
+egg."
+
+"No more, thank you, my good lady; I never ate a better supper, nor
+received a more hospitable welcome."
+
+"Oh, the welcome is all we have to offer."
+
+"May I ask what that is?" said Lord Colambre, looking at the notched
+stick, which the young woman held in her hand, and on which her eyes
+were still fixed.
+
+"It's a _tally_, plase your honour. Oh, you're a foreigner;--it's
+the way the labourers do keep the account of the day's work with the
+overseer, the bailiff; a notch for every day the bailiff makes on his
+stick, and the labourer the like on his stick, to tally; and when we
+come to make up the account, it's by the notches we go. And there's
+been a mistake, and is a dispute here between our boy and the
+overseer: and she was counting the boy's tally, that's in bed, tired,
+for in truth he's overworked."
+
+"Would you want any thing more from me, mother?" said the girl, rising
+and turning her head away.
+
+"No, child; get away, for your heart's full."
+
+She went instantly.
+
+"Is the boy her brother?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"No; he's her bachelor," said the old woman, lowering her voice.
+
+"Her bachelor?"
+
+"That is, her sweetheart: for she is not my daughter, though you heard
+her call me mother. The boy's my son; but I am _afeard_ they must give
+it up; for they're too poor, and the times is hard, and the agent's
+harder than the times: there's two of them, the under and the upper;
+and they grind the substance of one between them, and then blow one
+away like chaff; but we'll not be talking of that, to spoil your
+honour's night's rest. The room's ready, and here's the rushlight."
+
+She showed him into a very small but neat room.
+
+"What a comfortable-looking bed!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Ah, these red check curtains," said she, letting them down; "these
+have lasted well: they were give me by a good friend, now far away,
+over the seas--my Lady Clonbrony; and made by the prettiest hands ever
+you see, her niece's, Miss Grace Nugent's, and she a little child that
+time; sweet love! all gone!"
+
+The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colambre did what
+he could to appear indifferent. She set down the candle, and left the
+room; Lord Colambre went to bed, but he lay awake,
+
+  "Revolving sweet and bitter thoughts"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+The kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, every thing prepared for
+her guest by the hospitable hostess, who thinking the gentleman would
+take tea to his breakfast, had sent off a _gossoon_ by the _first
+light_ to Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a _quarter of sugar_, and
+a loaf of white bread; and there was on the little table good cream,
+milk, butter, eggs--all the promise of an excellent breakfast. It was
+a _fresh_ morning, and there was a pleasant fire on the hearth, neatly
+swept up. The old woman was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a
+little skreen of whitewashed wall, built out into the room, for the
+purpose of keeping those who sat at the fire from the _blast of the
+door_. There was a loop-hole in this wall, to let the light in, just
+at the height of a person's head, who was sitting near the chimney.
+The rays of the morning sun now came through it, shining across the
+face of the old woman, as she sat knitting: Lord Colambre thought
+he had seldom seen a more agreeable countenance, intelligent eyes,
+benevolent smile, a natural expression of cheerfulness, subdued by age
+and misfortune.
+
+"A good morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you got the night
+well?--A fine day for us this holyday morning; my Grace is gone to
+early prayers, so your honour will be content with an old woman to
+make your tea. Oh, let me put in plenty of tea, for it will never be
+good; and if your honour takes stirabout, an old hand will engage to
+make that to your liking, any way; for by great happiness, we have
+what will just answer for you of the nicest meal the miller made my
+Grace a compliment of, last time she went to the mill."
+
+Lord Colambre observed, that this miller had good taste; and his
+lordship paid some compliment to Grace's beauty, which the old woman
+received with a smile, but turned off the conversation.
+
+"Then," said she, looking out of the window, "is not that there a nice
+little garden the boy dug for her and me, at his breakfast and dinner
+hours? Ah! he's a good boy, and good warrant to work; and the good son
+_desarves_ the good wife, and it's he that will make the good husband;
+and with my good-will he, and no other, shall get her, and with her
+good-will the same; and I bid 'em keep up their heart, and hope the
+best, for there's no use in fearing the worst till it comes."
+
+Lord Colambre wished very much to know the worst. "If you would not
+think a stranger impertinent for asking," said he, "and if it would
+not be painful to you to explain."
+
+"Oh, impertinent, your honour! it's very kind--and, sure, none's a
+stranger to one's heart, that feels for one. And for myself, I can
+talk of my troubles without thinking of them. So, I'll tell you
+all--if the worst comes to the worst--all that is, is, that we must
+quit, and give up this little snug place, and house, and farm, and
+all, to the agent--which would be hard on us, and me a widow, when my
+husband did all that is done to the land; and if your honour was a
+judge, you could see, if you stepped out, there has been a deal done,
+and built the house, and all--but it plased Heaven to take him. Well,
+he was too good for this world, and I'm satisfied--I'm not saying
+a word again' that--I trust we shall meet in heaven, and be happy,
+surely. And, meantime, here's my boy, that will make me as happy as
+ever widow was on earth--if the agent will let him. And I can't think
+the agent, though they that know him best call him Old Nick, would be
+so wicked to take from us that which he never gave us. The good lord
+himself granted us the _lase_; the life's dropped, and the years is
+out; but we had a promise of renewal in writing from the landlord. God
+bless him! if he was not away, he'd be a good gentleman, and we'd be
+happy and safe."
+
+"But if you have a promise in writing of a renewal, surely you are
+safe, whether your landlord is absent or present."
+
+"Ah, no! that makes a great _differ_, when there's no eye or hand over
+the agent. I would not wish to speak or think ill of him or any man;
+but was he an angel, he could not know to do the tenantry justice, the
+way he is living always in Dublin, and coming down to the country only
+the receiving days, to make a sweep among us, and gather up the rents
+in a hurry, and he in such haste back to town--can just stay to count
+over our money, and give the receipts. Happy for us if we get that
+same!--but can't expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind
+our improvements, any more than listen to our complaints! Oh, there's
+great excuse for the gentleman, if that was any comfort for us," added
+she, smiling.
+
+"But, if he does not live amongst you himself, has not he some under
+agent, who lives in the country?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"He has so."
+
+"And he should know your concerns: does he mind them?"
+
+"He should know--he should know better; but as to minding our
+concerns, your honour knows," continued she, smiling again, "every one
+in this world must mind their own concerns: and it would be a good
+world, if it was even so. There's a great deal in all things, that
+don't appear at first sight. Mr. Dennis wanted Grace for a wife for
+his bailiff, but she would not have him; and Mr. Dennis was very sweet
+to her himself--but Grace is rather high with him as proper, and he
+has a grudge _again'_ us ever since. Yet, indeed, there," added she,
+after another pause, "as you say, I think we are safe; for we have
+that memorandum in writing, with a pencil, given under his own hand,
+on the back of the _lase_ to me, by the same token when my good lord
+had his foot on the step of the coach, going away; and I'll never
+forget the smile of her that got that good turn done for me, Miss
+Grace. And just when she was going to England and London, and, young
+as she was, to have the thought to stop and turn to the likes of me!
+Oh, then, if you could see her, and know her, as I did! _That_ was the
+comforting angel upon earth--look, and voice, and heart, and all! Oh,
+that she was here present, this minute!--But did you scald yourself?"
+said the widow to Lord Colambre. "Sure you must have scalded yourself;
+for you poured the kettle straight over your hand, and it boiling!--O
+_deear_; to think of so young a gentleman's hand shaking so like my
+own."
+
+Luckily, to prevent her pursuing her observations from the hand to the
+face, which might have betrayed more than Lord Colambre wished she
+should know, her own Grace came in at this instant--"There it's for
+you, safe, mother dear--the _lase_!" said Grace, throwing a packet
+into her lap. The old woman lifted up her hands to heaven, with the
+lease between them--"Thanks be to Heaven!" Grace passed on, and
+sunk down on the first seat she could reach. Her face flushed, and,
+looking much fatigued, she loosened the strings of her bonnet and
+cloak--"Then, I'm tired;" but, recollecting herself, she rose, and
+curtsied to the gentleman.
+
+"What tired ye, dear?"
+
+"Why, after prayers, we had to go--for the agent was not at prayers,
+nor at home for us, when we called--we had to go all the way up to the
+castle; and there, by great good luck, we found Mr. Nick Garraghty
+himself, come from Dublin, and the _lase_ in his hands; and he sealed
+it up that way, and handed it to me very civil. I never saw him so
+good--though he offered me a glass of spirits, which was not manners
+to a decent young woman, in a morning--as Brian noticed after. Brian
+would not take any either, nor never does. We met Mr. Dennis and the
+driver coming home; and he says, the rent must be paid to-morrow, or,
+instead of renewing, he'll seize, and sell all. Mother dear, I would
+have dropped with the walk, but for Brian's arm."
+
+"It's a wonder, dear, what makes you so weak, that used to be so
+strong."
+
+"But if we can sell the cow for any thing at all to Mr. Dennis, since
+his eye is set upon her, better let him have her mother, dear; and
+that and my yarn, which Mrs. Garraghty says she'll allow me for, will
+make up the rent--and Brian need not talk of America. But it must be
+in golden guineas, the agent will take the rent no other way; and you
+won't get a guinea for less than five shillings. Well, even so, it's
+easy selling my new gown to one that covets it, and that will give me
+in exchange the price of the gold; or, suppose that would not do, add
+this cloak--it's handsome, and I know a friend would be glad to take
+it, and I'd part it as ready as look at it--Any thing at all, sure,
+rather than that he should be forced to talk of emigrating: or, oh,
+worse again, listing for the bounty--to save us from the cant or the
+jail, by going to the hospital, or his grave, maybe--oh, mother!"
+
+"Oh, child! This is what makes you weak, fretting. Don't be that way.
+Sure here's the _lase_, and that's good comfort; and the soldiers will
+be gone out of Clonbrony to-morrow, and then that's off your mind.
+And as to America, it's only talk--I won't let him, he's dutiful; and
+would sooner sell my dresser, and down to my bed, dear, than see you
+sell any thing of yours, love. Promise me you won't. Why didn't Brian
+come home all the way with you, Grace?"
+
+"He would have seen me home," said Grace, "only that he went up a
+piece of the mountain for some stones or ore for the gentleman,--for
+he had the manners to think of him this morning, though, shame for me,
+I had not, when I come in, or I would not have told you all this, and
+he by. See, there _he_ is, mother."
+
+Brian came in very hot, out of breath, with his hat full of stones.
+"Good morrow to your honour. I was in bed last night; and sorry they
+did not call me up to be of _sarvice_. Larry was telling us, this
+morning, your honour's from Wales, and looking for mines in Ireland,
+and I heard talk that there was one on our mountain--may be, you'd be
+_curous_ to see, and so I brought the best I could, but I'm no judge."
+
+"Nor I, neither," thought Lord Colambre; but he thanked the young man,
+and determined to avail himself of Larry's misconception of false
+report; examined the stones very gravely, and said, "This promises
+well. Lapis caliminaris, schist, plum-pudding stone, rhomboidal,
+crystal, blend, garrawachy," and all the strange names he could think
+of, jumbling them together at a venture.
+
+"The _lase_!" cried the young man, with joy sparkling in his eyes, as
+his mother held up the packet. "Lend me the papers."
+
+He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover--"Ay, I know it's the
+_lase_ sure enough. But stay, where's the memorandum?"
+
+"It's there, sure," said his mother, "where my lord's pencil writ it.
+I don't read. Grace, dear, look."
+
+The young man put it into her hands, and stood without power to utter
+a syllable.
+
+"It's not here! It's gone!--no sign of it."
+
+"Gracious Heaven! that can't be," said the old woman, putting on her
+spectacles; "let me see,'--I remember the very spot."
+
+"It's taken away--it's rubbed clean out!--Oh, wasn't I fool?--But who
+could have thought he'd be the villain!"
+
+The young man seemed neither to see nor hear, but to be absorbed
+in thought. Grace, with her eyes fixed upon him, grew as pale as
+death.--"He'll go--he's gone."
+
+"She's gone!" cried Lord Colambre, and the mother just caught her in
+her arms as she was falling.
+
+"The chaise is ready, plase your honour," said Larry, coming into the
+room. "Death! what's here?"
+
+"Air!--she's coming to," said the young man--"Take a drop of water, my
+own Grace."
+
+"Young man, I promise you," cried Lord Colambre, (speaking in the tone
+of a master,) striking the young man's shoulder, who was kneeling at
+Grace's feet, but recollecting and restraining himself, he added, in
+a quiet voice--"I promise you I shall never forget the hospitality I
+have received in this house, and I am sorry to be obliged to leave you
+in distress."
+
+These words uttered with difficulty, he hurried out of the house, and
+into his carriage. "Go back to them," said he to the postilion: "go
+back and ask whether, if I should stay a day or two longer in this
+country, they would let me return at night and lodge with them. And
+here, man, stay, take this," putting money into his hands, "for the
+good woman of the house."
+
+The postilion went in, and returned.
+
+"She won't at all--I knew she would not."
+
+"Well, I am obliged to her for the night's lodging she did give me; I
+have no right to expect more."
+
+"What is it?--Sure she bid me tell you,--'and welcome to the lodging;
+for,' said she, 'he's a kind-hearted gentleman;' but here's the money;
+it's that I was telling you she would not have at all."
+
+"Thank you. Now, my good friend, Larry, drive me to Clonbrony, and do
+not say another word, for I'm not in a talking humour."
+
+Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony. Clonbrony was now a
+melancholy scene. The houses, which had been built in a better style
+of architecture than usual, were in a ruinous condition; the dashing
+was off the walls, no glass in the windows, and many of the roofs
+without slates. For the stillness of the place Lord Colambre in some
+measure accounted, by considering that it was holiday; therefore, of
+course, all the shops were shut up, and all the people at prayers. He
+alighted at the inn, which completely answered Larry's representation
+of it. Nobody to be seen but a drunken waiter, who, as well as he
+could articulate, informed Lord Colambre, that "his mistress was in
+her bed since Thursday-was-a-week; the hostler at the _wash-woman's_,
+and the cook at second prayers."
+
+Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church gate was locked and
+broken--a calf, two pigs, and an ass, in the church-yard; and several
+boys (with more of skin apparent than clothes) were playing at pitch
+and toss upon a tombstone, which, upon nearer observation, he saw was
+the monument of his own family. One of the boys came to the gate,
+and told Lord Colambre, "There was no use in going into the church,
+because there was no church there; nor had not been this twelvemonth;
+beca-ase there was no curate: and the parson was away always, since
+the lord was at home--that is, was not at home--he nor the family."
+
+Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting a considerable
+time, he gave up the point--he could not get any dinner--and in
+the evening he walked out again into the town. He found several
+public-houses, however, open, which were full of people; all of them
+as busy and as noisy as possible. He observed that the interest was
+created by an advertisement of several farms on the Clonbrony estate,
+to be set by Nicholas Garraghty, Esq. He could not help smiling at
+his being witness _incognito_ to various schemes for outwitting the
+agents, and defrauding the landlord; but, on a sudden, the scene was
+changed; a boy ran in, crying out, that "St. Dennis was riding down
+the hill into the town; and, if you would not have the licence," said
+the boy, "take care of yourself, Brannagan." "_If you wouldn't have
+the licence_," Lord Colambre perceived, by what followed, meant, "_If
+you have not a licence_." Brannagan immediately snatched an untasted
+glass of whiskey from a customer's lips (who cried, murder!), gave
+it and the bottle he held in his hand to his wife, who swallowed the
+spirits, and ran away with the bottle and glass into some back hole;
+whilst the bystanders laughed, saying, "Well thought of, Peggy!"
+
+"Clear out all of you at the back door, for the love of Heaven, if
+you wouldn't be the ruin of me," said the man of the house, setting
+a ladder to a corner of the shop. "Phil, hoist me up the keg to the
+loft," added he, running up the ladder; "and one of _yees_ step up
+street, and give Rose McGivney notice, for she's selling, too."
+
+The keg was hoisted up; the ladder removed; the shop cleared of
+all the customers; the shutters shut; the door barred; the counter
+cleaned.
+
+"Lift your stones, sir, if you plase," said the wife, as she rubbed
+the counter, "and say nothing of what you _seen_ at all; but that
+you're a stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging, if you're
+questioned, or waiting to see Mr. Dennis. There's no smell of whiskey
+in it now, is there, sir?"
+
+Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this--he could
+only hope no one would perceive it.
+
+"Oh, and if he would, the smell of whiskey was nothing," as the wife
+affirmed, "for it was every where in nature, and no proof again' any
+one, good or bad."
+
+"Now, St. Dennis may come when he will, or Old Nick himself!" So she
+tied up a blue handkerchief over her head, and had the toothache "very
+bad."
+
+Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.
+
+"He's safe in bed," said the wife.
+
+"In bed! When?"
+
+"Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the handkerchief over
+my face. Within the room, look, he is snug."
+
+And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on the chest.
+
+A knock, a loud knock at the door.
+
+"St. Dennis himself!--Stay, till I unbar the door," said the woman;
+and, making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning and saying.
+"We was all done up for the night, _plase_ your honour, and myself
+with the toothache, very bad--And the lodger, that's going to take an
+egg only, before he'd go into his bed. My man's in it, and asleep long
+ago."
+
+With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank disappointment,
+Mr. Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked into _the room_, saw the good
+man of the house asleep, heard him snore, and then, returning, asked
+Lord Colambre, "who he was, and what brought him there?"
+
+Our hero said, he was from England, and a traveller; and now, bolder
+grown as a geologist, he talked of his specimens, and his hopes of
+finding a mine in the neighbouring mountains; then adopting, as well
+as he could, the servile tone and abject manner, in which he found Mr.
+Dennis was to be addressed, "he hoped he might get encouragement from
+the gentlemen at the head of the estate."
+
+"To bore, is it?--Well, don't _bore_ me about it. I can't give you any
+answer now, my good friend; I am engaged."
+
+Out he strutted. "Stick to him up the town, if you have a mind to get
+your answer," whispered the woman. Lord Colambre followed, for he
+wished to see the end of this scene.
+
+"Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me, like my shadow,
+for?" said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly upon Lord Colambre.
+
+His lordship bowed low. "Waiting for my answer, sir, when you are at
+leisure. Or, may I call upon you to-morrow?"
+
+"You seem to be a civil kind of fellow; but, as to boring, I don't
+know--if you undertake it at your own expense. I dare say there may be
+minerals in the ground. Well, you may call at the castle to-morrow,
+and when my brother has done with the tenantry, I'll speak to him
+_for_ you, and we'll consult together, and see what we think. It's too
+late to-night. In Ireland, nobody speaks to a gentleman about business
+after dinner,--your servant, sir; any body can show you the way to the
+castle in the morning." And, pushing by his lordship, he called to a
+man on the other side of the street, who had obviously been waiting
+for him; he went under a gateway with this man, and gave him a bag of
+guineas. He then called for his horse, which was brought to him by a
+man whom Lord Colambre had heard declaring that he would bid for the
+land that was advertised; whilst another, who had the same intentions,
+most respectfully held his stirrup, whilst he mounted without thanking
+either of these men. St. Dennis clapped spurs to his steed, and rode
+away. No thanks, indeed, were deserved; for the moment he was out of
+hearing, both cursed him after the manner of their country.
+
+"Bad luck go with you, then!--And may you break your neck before you
+get home, if it was not for the _lase_ I'm to get, and that's paid
+for."
+
+Lord Colambre followed the crowd into a public-house, where a new
+scene presented itself to his view.
+
+The man to whom St. Dennis gave the bag of gold was now selling this
+very gold to the tenants, who were to pay their rent next day at the
+castle.
+
+The agent would take nothing but gold. The same guineas were bought
+and sold several times over, to the great profit of the agent and loss
+of the poor tenants; for as the rents were paid, the guineas were
+resold to another set: and the remittances made through bankers to the
+landlord, who, as the poor man that explained the transaction to Lord
+Colambre expressed it, "gained nothing by the business, bad or good,
+but the ill-will of the tenantry."
+
+The higgling for the price of the gold; the time lost in disputing
+about the goodness of the notes, among some poor tenants, who could
+not read or write, and who were at the mercy of the man with the bag
+in his hand; the vexation, the useless harassing of all who were
+obliged to submit ultimately--Lord Colambre saw: and all this time he
+endured the smell of tobacco and whiskey, and the sound of various
+brogues, the din of men wrangling, brawling, threatening, whining,
+drawling, cajoling, cursing, and every variety of wretchedness.
+
+"And is this my father's town of Clonbrony?" thought Lord Colambre.
+"Is this Ireland? No, it is not Ireland. Let me not, like most of
+those who forsake their native country, traduce it. Let me not, even
+to my own mind, commit the injustice of taking a speck for the whole.
+What I have just seen is the picture only of that to which an Irish
+estate and Irish tenantry may be degraded in the absence of those
+whose duty and interest it is to reside in Ireland, to uphold justice
+by example and authority; but who, neglecting this duty, commit power
+to bad hands and bad hearts--abandon their tenantry to oppression, and
+their property to ruin."
+
+It was now fine moonlight, and Lord Colambre met with a boy, who said
+he could show him a short way across the fields to the widow O'Neil's
+cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+All were asleep at the cottage, when Lord Colambre arrived, except
+the widow, who was sitting up, waiting for him; and who had brought
+her dog into the house, that he might not fly at him, or bark at his
+return. She had a roast chicken ready for her guest, and it was--but
+this she never told him--the only chicken she had left; all the others
+had been sent with the _duty fowl_, as a present to the under-agent's
+lady. While he was eating his supper, which he ate with the better
+appetite, as he had had no dinner, the good woman took down from the
+shelf a pocket-book, which she gave him: "Is not that your book?" said
+she. "My boy Brian found it after you in the potatoe furrow, where you
+dropped it."
+
+"Thank you," said Lord Colambre; "there are bank notes in it, which I
+could not afford to lose."
+
+"Are there?" said she: "he never opened it--nor I."
+
+Then, in answer to his inquiries about Grace and the young man, the
+widow answered, "They are all in heart now, I thank ye kindly, sir,
+for asking; they'll sleep easy to-night, any way, and I'm in great
+spirits for them and myself--for all's smooth now. After we parted
+you, Brian saw Mr. Dennis himself about the _lase_ and memorandum,
+which he never denied, but knew nothing about. 'But, be that as it
+may,' says he, 'you're improving tenants, and I'm confident my brother
+will consider ye; so what you'll do is, you'll give up the possession
+to-morrow to myself, that will call for it by cock-crow, just for
+form's sake; and then go up to the castle with the new _lase_ ready
+drawn, in your hand, and if all's paid off clear of the rent, and all
+that's due, you'll get the new _lase_ signed: I'll promise you this
+upon the word and honour of a gentleman.' And there's no going beyond
+that, you know, sir. So my boy came home as light as a feather, and as
+gay as a lark, to bring us the good news; only he was afraid we might
+not make up the rent, guineas and all; and because he could not get
+paid for the work he done, on account of the mistake in the overseer's
+tally, I sold the cow to a neighbour, dog-cheap; but needs must, as
+they say, when Old Nick _drives_," said the widow, smiling. "Well,
+still it was but paper we got for the cow; then that must be gold
+before the agent would take or touch it--so I was laying out to sell
+the dresser, and had taken the plates and cups, and little things
+off it, and my boy was lifting it out with Andy the carpenter,
+that was agreeing for it, when in comes Grace, all rosy and out of
+breath--it's a wonder I never minded her run out, nor ever missed her.
+'Mother,' says she, 'here's the gold for you; don't be stirring your
+dresser.'--'And where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I. But, I
+beg your pardon, sir; may be, I'm tiring you?"
+
+Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.
+
+"'Where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I. 'Gone,' says she. 'The
+cloak was too warm and heavy, and I don' doubt, mother, but it was
+that helped to make me faint this morning. And as to the gown, sure
+I've a very nice one here, that you spun for me yourself, mother; and
+that I prize above all the gowns ever came out of a loom; and that
+Brian said become me to his fancy above any gown ever he see me wear;
+and what could I wish for more?' Now I'd a mind to scold her for going
+to sell the gown unknown'st to me, but I don't know how it was, I
+couldn't scold her just then, so kissed her, and Brian the same, and
+that was what no man ever did before. And she had a mind to be angry
+with him, but could not, nor ought not, says I, 'for he's as good
+as your husband now, Grace; and no man can part yees now,' says I,
+putting their hands together. Well, I never saw her look so pretty;
+nor there was not a happier boy that minute on God's earth than my
+son, nor a happier mother than myself; and I thanked God, that had
+given them to me; and down they both fell on their knees for my
+blessing, little worth as it was; and my heart's blessing they had,
+and I laid my hands upon them. 'It's the priest you must get to do
+this for you to-morrow,' says I. And Brian just held up the ring, to
+show me all was ready on his part, but could not speak. 'Then there's
+no America between us any more!' said Grace, low to me, and her heart
+was on her lips; but the colour came and went, and I was _afeard_
+she'd have swooned again, but not for sorrow, so I carried her off.
+Well, if she was not my own--but she is not my own born, so I may
+say it--there never was a better girl, not a more kind-hearted, nor
+generous; never thinking any thing she could do, or give, too much
+for them she loved, and any thing at all would do for herself; the
+sweetest natured and tempered both, and always was, from this high;
+the bond that held all together, and joy of the house."
+
+"Just like her namesake," cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"Plase your honour!"
+
+"Is not it late?" said Lord Colambre, stretching himself and gaping;
+"I've walked a great way to-day."
+
+The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red check bed,
+and wished him a very good night; not without some slight sentiment
+of displeasure at his gaping thus at the panegyric on her darling
+Grace. Before she left the room, however, her short-lived resentment
+vanished, upon his saying, that he hoped, with her permission, to be
+present at the wedding of the young couple.
+
+Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his reverence
+when it would be convenient to marry him; and whilst he was gone,
+Mr. Dennis Garraghty came to the cottage, to receive the rent and
+possession. The rent was ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.
+
+"No occasion for a receipt; for a new _lase_ is a receipt in full for
+every thing."
+
+"Very well, sir," said the widow; "I know nothing of law. You know
+best--whatever you direct--for you are acting as a friend to us now.
+My son got the attorney to draw the pair of new _lases_ yesterday, and
+here they are ready, all to signing."
+
+Mr. Dennis said, his brother must settle that part of the business,
+and that they must carry them up to the castle; "but first give me the
+possession."
+
+Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to him,
+and a bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked out the fire, and
+said every living creature must go out. "It's only form of law," said
+he.
+
+"And must my lodger get up, and turn out, sir?" said she.
+
+"He must turn out, to be sure--not a living soul must he left in it,
+or it's no legal possession, properly. Who is your lodger?"
+
+On Lord Colambre's appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some surprise, and
+said, "I thought you were lodging at Brannagan's; are not you the man
+who spoke to me at his house about the gold mines?"
+
+"No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan's," said the widow.
+
+"Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about the gold mines at
+Brannagan's; but I did not like to lodge--"
+
+"Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must walk out of this
+lodging now, if you please, my good friend."
+
+So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders, repeating, as
+the widow turned back, and looked with some surprise and alarm, "only
+for form sake, only for form sake!" then locking the door, took the
+key, and put it into his pocket. The widow held out her hand for it:
+"The form's gone through now, sir; is not it? Be plased to let us in
+again."
+
+"When the new lease is signed, I'll give you possession again; but not
+till then--for that's the law. So make away with you to the castle;
+and mind," added he, winking slily, "mind you take sealing-money with
+you, and something to buy gloves."
+
+"Oh, where will I find all that?" said the widow.
+
+"I have it, mother; don't fret," said Grace. "I have it--the price
+of--what I can want[1]. So let us go off to the castle without delay.
+Brian will meet us on the road, you know."
+
+[Footnote 1: What I can do without.]
+
+They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accompanying them.
+Brian met them on the road. "Father Tom is ready, dear mother; bring
+her in, and he'll marry us. I'm not my own man till she's mine. Who
+knows what may happen?"
+
+"Who knows? that's true," said the widow.
+
+"Better go to the castle first," said Grace.
+
+"And keep the priest waiting! You can't use his reverence so," said
+Brian.
+
+So she let him lead her into the priest's house, and she did not make
+any of the awkward draggings back, or ridiculous scenes of grimace
+sometimes exhibited on these occasions; but blushing rosy red, yet
+with more self-possession than could have been expected from her timid
+nature, she gave her hand to the man she loved, and listened with
+attentive devotion to the holy ceremony.
+
+"Ah!" thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated the bride, "shall
+I ever be as happy as these poor people are at this moment?" He longed
+to make them some little present, but all he could venture at this
+moment was to pay the priest's dues.
+
+The priest positively refused to take any thing.
+
+"They are the best couple in my parish," said he; "and I'll take
+nothing, sir, from you, a stranger and my guest."
+
+"Now, come what will, I'm a match for it. No trouble can touch me,"
+said Brian.
+
+"Oh, don't be bragging," said the widow.
+
+"Whatever trouble God sends, he has given one now will help to bear
+it, and sure I may be thankful," said Grace.
+
+"Such good hearts must be happy,--shall be happy!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, you're very kind," said the widow, smiling; "and I wouldn't doubt
+you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you
+encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us."
+
+"I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!"
+cried Lord Colambre; "whether the agent gives me encouragement or
+not," added he.
+
+It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said
+herself, would not have been able for it, but for a _lift_ given to
+her by a friendly carman, whom she overtook on the road with an empty
+car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of
+meeting and being recognized by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to
+the question of "Who is at the castle?" replied, "Mrs. Raffarty will
+be in it afore night; but she's on the road still. There's none
+but Old Nick in it yet; and he's more of a _neger_ than ever; for
+think, that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his
+_shister's_ boxes and band-boxes down. If you're going to have any
+dealings with him, God grant ye a safe deliverance!"
+
+"Amen!" said the widow, and her son and daughter.
+
+Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of the castle
+and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old.
+Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy
+that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all
+about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the mossy
+gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and
+melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into
+bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the ground in lots to
+be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, where in his
+childhood our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest,
+was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for
+it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.--"And
+how it went, when sold!--but no matter," said Finnucan; "it's all
+alike.--It's the back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose."
+
+"And such a yard! but it's no matter," repeated Lord Colambre to
+himself; "it's all alike."
+
+In the kitchen, a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty's
+friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day
+was over.
+
+"Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after
+dinner," says one; "and the wine for the cook--sure there's venison,"
+cries another.--"Venison!--That's the way my lord's deer goes," says
+a third, laughing.--"Ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here
+to eat 'em."--"Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you
+_plase_," said the agent's cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre's
+face. "There's the way to the office, if you've money to pay, up the
+back stairs."
+
+"No; up the grand staircase they must,--Mr. Garraghty ordered," said
+the footman; "because the office is damp for him, and it's not there
+he'll see any body to-day; but in my lady's dressing-room."
+
+So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent
+apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp.
+
+"Then, isn't it a pity to see them? There's my lady, and all
+spoiling," said the widow.
+
+Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent--"Shamefully
+damaged!" cried he.
+
+"Pass on, or let me pass, if you _plase_," said one of the tenants;
+"and don't be stopping the door-way."
+
+"I have business more nor you with the agent," said the surveyor;
+"where is he?"
+
+"In the _presence-chamber_," replied another: "Where should the
+viceroy be but in the _presence-chamber_?"
+
+There was a full levee, and fine smell of great coats.--"Oh! would you
+put your hats on the silk cushions?" said the widow to some men in the
+doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.
+
+"Why not? where else?"
+
+"If the lady was in it, you wouldn't," said she, sighing.
+
+"No, to be sure, I wouldn't: great news! would I make no _differ_ in
+the presence of Old Nick and my lady?" said he, in Irish. "Have I no
+sense or manners, good woman, think ye?" added he, as he shook the ink
+out of the pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished signing his
+name to a paper on his knee.
+
+"You may wait long before you get to the speech of the great man,"
+said another, who was working his way through numbers.
+
+They continued pushing forward, till they came within sight of Mr.
+Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse countenance, or a
+more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord
+Colambre had never beheld.
+
+We forbear all further detail of this levee. "It's all the same!" as
+Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery
+or oppression to which he was witness; and having completely made
+up his mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the back-ground,
+waiting till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for
+he was now interested only to see how she would be treated. The room
+gradually thinned I Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the
+table, to help his brother to count the heaps of gold.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting
+me here," said the widow O'Neil, walking up to him;
+
+"I'm sure you'll speak a good word for me: here's the _lases_--who
+will I offer this to?" said she, holding the _glove-money_ and
+_sealing-money_, "for I'm strange and ashamed."
+
+"Oh, don't be ashamed--there's no strangeness in bringing money or
+taking it," said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. "Is
+this the proper compliment?"
+
+"I hope so, sir: your honour knows best."
+
+"Very well," slipping it into his private purse. "Now what's your
+business?"
+
+"The _lases_ to sign--the rent's all paid up."
+
+"Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?"
+
+"It was, _plase_ your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little
+place in his pocket."
+
+"Then I hope he'll keep it there. _Your_ little place--it's no longer
+yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a
+fool as to renew to you at this rent."
+
+"Mr. Dennis named the rent. But any thing your honour _plases_--any
+thing at all that we can pay."
+
+"Oh, it's out of the question--put it out of your head. No rent you
+can offer would do, for I have promised it to the surveyor."
+
+"Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a
+renewal, on the back of the _ould lase_."
+
+"Produce it."
+
+"Here's the _lase_, but the promise is rubbed out."
+
+"Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll
+listen to that in a court of justice, do you think?"
+
+"I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and
+Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by
+when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it."
+
+"Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?--What has she to do with
+the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray?"
+
+"Management!--no, sir."
+
+"Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?"
+
+"Oh, God forbid!--how could that be?"
+
+"Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what
+my lord does not choose."
+
+"Well, then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at all, if it
+was ever so with me. But be _plased_, sir, to write over to my lord,
+and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it."
+
+"Write to my lord about such a trifle--trouble him about such
+nonsense!"
+
+"I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and believe
+me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor, if in my
+power, for the whole estate, nor the whole world: for there's an eye
+above."
+
+"Cant! nonsense!--Take those leases off the table; I never will sign
+them. Walk off, ye canting hag; it's an imposition--I will never sign
+them."
+
+"You _will_, then, sir," cried Brian, growing red with indignation;
+"for the law shall make you, so it shall; and you'd as good have been
+civil to my mother, whatever you did--for I'll stand by her while
+I've life; and I know she has right, and shall have law. I saw the
+memorandum written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever
+became of it after; and will swear to it too."
+
+"Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will avail in your own
+case in a court of justice," continued Old Nick.
+
+"And against a gentleman of my brother's established character and
+property," said St. Dennis. "What's your mother's character against a
+gentleman's like his?"
+
+"Character! take care how you go to that, any way, sir," cried Brian.
+
+Grace put her hand before his mouth, to stop him.
+
+"Grace, dear, I must speak, if I die for it; sure it's for my mother,"
+said the young man, struggling forward, while his mother held him
+back; "I must speak."
+
+"Oh, he's ruined, I see it," said Grace, putting her hand before her
+eyes, "and he won't mind me."
+
+"Go on, let him go on, pray, young woman," said Mr. Garraghty, pale
+with anger and fear, his lips quivering; "I shall be happy to take
+down his words."
+
+"Write them; and may all the world read it, and welcome!"
+
+His mother and wife stopped his mouth by force.
+
+"Write you, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty, giving the pen to his
+brother; for his hand shook so he could not form a letter. "Write the
+very words, and at the top" (pointing) "after warning, _with malice
+prepense_."
+
+"Write, then--mother, Grace--let me," cried Brian, speaking in a
+smothered voice, as their hands were over his mouth. "Write then,
+that, if you'd either of you a character like my mother, you might
+defy the world; and your word would be as good as your oath."
+
+"_Oath!_ mind that, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty.
+
+"Oh, sir! sir! won't you stop him?" cried Grace, turning suddenly to
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, dear, dear, if you haven't lost your feeling for us," cried the
+widow.
+
+"Let him speak," said Lord Colambre, in a tone of authority; "let the
+voice of truth be heard."
+
+"_Truth!_" cried St. Dennis, and dropped the pen.
+
+"And who the devil are you, sir?" said Old Nick.
+
+"Lord Colambre, I protest!" exclaimed a female voice; and Mrs.
+Raffarty at this instant appeared at the open door.
+
+"Lord Colambre!" repeated all present, in different tones.
+
+"My lord, I beg pardon," continued Mrs. Raffarty, advancing as if
+her legs were tied; "had I known you was down here, I would not have
+presumed. I'd better retire; for I see you're busy."
+
+"You'd best; for you're mad, sister," said St. Dennis, pushing her
+back; "and we _are_ busy; go to your room, and keep quiet, if you
+can."
+
+"First, madam," said Lord Colambre, going between her and the door,
+"let me beg that you will consider yourself as at home in this house,
+whilst any circumstances make it desirable to you. The hospitality you
+showed me you cannot think I now forget."
+
+"Oh, my lord, you're too good--how few--too kind--kinder than my own;"
+and, bursting into tears, she escaped out of the room.
+
+Lord Colambre returned to the party round the table, who were in
+various attitudes of astonishment, and with faces of fear, horror,
+hope, joy, doubt.
+
+"Distress," continued his lordship, "however incurred, if not by vice,
+will always find a refuge in this house. I speak in my father's name,
+for I know I speak his sentiments. But never more shall vice," said
+he, darting such a look at the brother agents as they felt to the
+back-bone--"never more shall vice, shall fraud enter here."
+
+He paused, and there was a momentary silence.
+
+"There spoke the true thing! and the _rael_ gentleman; my own heart's
+satisfied," said Brian, folding his arms, and standing erect.
+
+"Then so is mine," said Grace, taking breath, with a deep sigh.
+
+The widow advancing, put on her spectacles, and, looking up close at
+Lord Colambre's face--"Then it's a wonder I didn't know the family
+likeness."
+
+Lord Colambre, now recollecting that he still wore the old great coat,
+threw it off.
+
+"Oh, bless him! Then now I'd know him any where. I'm willing to die
+now, for we'll all be happy."
+
+"My lord, since it is so--my lord, may I ask you," said Mr. Garraghty,
+now sufficiently recovered to be able to articulate, but scarcely to
+express his ideas; "if what your lordship hinted just now--"
+
+"I hinted nothing, sir; I spoke plainly."
+
+"I beg pardon, my lord," said Old Nick; "respecting vice, was levelled
+at me; because, if it was, my lord," trying to stand erect; "let me
+tell your lordship, if I could think it was--"
+
+"If it did not hit you, sir, no matter at whom it was levelled."
+
+"And let me ask, my lord, if I may presume, whether, in what you
+suggested by the word fraud, your lordship had any particular
+meaning?" said St. Dennis.
+
+"A very particular meaning, sir--feel in your pocket for the key of
+this widow's house, and deliver it to her."
+
+"Oh, if that's all the meaning, with all the pleasure in life. I never
+meant to detain it longer than till the leases were signed," said St.
+Dennis.
+
+"And I'm ready to sign the leases this minute," said the brother.
+
+"Do it, sir, this minute; I have read them; I will be answerable to my
+father."
+
+"Oh, as to that, my lord, I have power to sign for your father."
+
+He signed the leases; they were duly witnessed by Lord Colambre.
+
+"I deliver this as my act and deed," said Mr. Garraghty:
+
+"My lord," continued he, "you see, at the first word from you; and had
+I known sooner the interest you took in the family, there would have
+been no difficulty; for I'd make it a principle to oblige you, my
+lord."
+
+"Oblige me!" said Lord Colambre, with disdain.
+
+"But when gentlemen and noblemen travel _incognito_, and lodge in
+cabins," added St. Dennis, with a satanic smile, glancing his eye on
+Grace, "they have good reasons, no doubt."
+
+"Do not judge my heart by your own, sir," said Lord Colambre, coolly;
+"no two things in nature can, I trust, be more different. My purpose
+in travelling _incognito_ has been fully answered: I was determined to
+see and judge how my father's estates were managed; and I have seen,
+compared, and judged. I have seen the difference between the Clonbrony
+and the Colambre property; and I shall represent what I have seen to
+my father."
+
+"As to that, my lord, if we are to come to that--but I trust your
+lordship will suffer me to explain these matters. Go about your
+business, my good friends; you have all you want; and, my lord, after
+dinner, when you are cool, I hope I shall be able to make you sensible
+that things have been represented to your lordship in a mistaken
+light; and, I flatter myself, I shall convince you, I have not only
+always acted the part of a friend to the family, but am particularly
+willing to conciliate your lordship's good-will," said he, sweeping
+the rouleaus of gold into a bag; "any accommodation in my power, at
+any time."
+
+"I want no accommodation, sir--were I starving, I would accept of none
+from you. Never can you conciliate my good-will; for you can never
+deserve it."
+
+"If that be the case, my lord, I must conduct myself accordingly: but
+it's fair to warn you, before you make any representation to my Lord
+Clonbrony, that, if he should think of changing his agent, there are
+accounts to be settled between us--that may be a consideration."
+
+"No, sir; no consideration--my father never shall be the slave of such
+a paltry consideration."
+
+"Oh, very well, my lord; you know best. If you choose to make an
+assumpsit, I'm sure I shall not object to the security. Your lordship
+will be of age soon, I know--I'm sure I'm satisfied--but," added he,
+with a malicious smile, "I rather apprehend you don't know what you
+undertake: I only premise that the balance of accounts between us is
+not what can properly be called a paltry consideration."
+
+"On that point, perhaps, sir, you and I may differ."
+
+"Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if it suits
+your convenience."
+
+"Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles."
+
+"Dennis! the letters to the post--When do you go to England, my lord?"
+
+"Immediately, sir," said Lord Colambre: his lordship saw new leases
+from his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty, lying on the table, unsigned.
+
+"Immediately!" repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis, with an air of
+dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the window, and whispered
+something to his brother, who instantly left the room.
+
+Lord Colambre saw the postchaise at the door, which had brought Mrs.
+Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing beside it: his lordship
+instantly threw up the sash, and holding between his finger and thumb
+a six shilling piece, cried, "Larry, my friend, let me have the
+horses."
+
+"You shall have 'em--your honour," said Larry.
+
+Mr. Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magisterial tone.
+"Larry, my brother must have the horses."
+
+"He can't, _plase_ your honour--they're engaged."
+
+"Half a crown!--a crown!--half a guinea!" said Mr. Dennis Garraghty,
+raising his voice, as he increased his proffered bribe. To each offer
+Larry replied, "You can't, _plase_ your honour, they're engaged;" and,
+looking up to the window at Lord Colambre, he said, "As soon as they
+have ate their oats, you shall have 'em."
+
+No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consternation. Lord
+Colambre ordered that Larry should have some dinner, and whilst the
+postilion was eating, and the horses finished their oats, his lordship
+wrote the following letter to his father, which, to prevent all
+possibility of accident, he determined to put, with his own hand, into
+the post-office at Clonbrony, as he passed through the town.
+
+    "MY DEAR FATHER,
+
+    "I hope to be with you in a few days. Lest any thing should detain
+    me on the road, I write this, to make an earnest request, that you
+    will not sign any papers, or transact any farther business with
+    Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis Garraghty before you see
+
+    "Your affectionate son,
+
+    "COLAMBRE."
+
+The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready, and Lord Colambre,
+having first eaten a slice of his own venison, ran down to the
+carriage, followed by the thanks and blessings of the widow, her
+son, and daughter, who could hardly make their way after him to the
+chaise-door, so great was the crowd which had gathered on the report
+of his lordship's arrival.
+
+"Long life to your honour! Long life to your lordship!" echoed on all
+sides. "Just come, and going, are you?"
+
+"Good bye to you all, good people!"
+
+"Then _good bye_ is the only word we wouldn't wish to hear from your
+honour."
+
+"For the sake both of landlord and tenant, I must leave you now, my
+good friends; but I hope to return to you at some future time."
+
+"God bless you! and speed ye! and a safe journey to your honour!--and
+a happy return to us, and soon!" cried a multitude of voices.
+
+Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door, and beckoned to the widow
+O'Neil, before whom others had pressed. An opening was made for her
+instantly.
+
+"There! that was the very way his father stood, with his foot on the
+step. And Miss Nugent was _in it_."
+
+Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say,--with some difficulty
+recollected. "This pocket-book," said he, "which your son restored to
+me--I intend it for your daughter--don't keep it as your son kept it
+for me, without opening it. Let what is withinside," added he, as he
+got into the carriage, "replace the cloak and gown, and let all things
+necessary for a bride be bought; 'for the bride that has all things to
+borrow has surely mickle to do.' Shut the door, and drive on."
+
+"Blessings be _wid_ you," cried the widow, "and God give you grace!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+Larry drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good rate, till he
+got out of the great gate, and beyond the sight of the crowd: then,
+pulling up, he turned to Lord Colambre--"_Plase_ your honour, I did
+not know nor guess ye was my lord, when I let you have the horses: did
+not know who you was from Adam, I'll take my affidavit."
+
+"There's no occasion," said Lord Colambre; "I hope you don't repent
+letting me have the horses, now you do know who I am?"
+
+"Oh! not at all, sure: I'm as glad as the best horse ever I crossed,
+that your honour is my lord--but I was only telling your honour, that
+you might not be looking upon me as a _timesarver_."
+
+"I do not look upon you as a _timesarver_, Larry; but keep on, that
+time may serve me."
+
+In two words, he explained his cause of haste; and no sooner explained
+than understood. Larry thundered away through the town of Clonbrony,
+bending over his horses, plying the whip, and lending his very soul at
+every lash. With much difficulty, Lord Colambre stopped him at the end
+of the town, at the post-office. The post was gone out--gone a quarter
+of an hour.
+
+"May be, we'll overtake the mail," said Larry: and, as he spoke,
+he slid down from his seat, and darted into the public-house,
+re-appearing, in a few moments, with a _copper_ of ale and a horn in
+his hand: he and another man held open the horses' mouths, and poured
+the ale through the horn down their throats.
+
+"Now, they'll go with spirit!"
+
+And, with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made them go "for
+life or death," as he said: but in vain! At the next stage, at his own
+inn-door, Larry roared for fresh horses till he, got them, harnessed
+them with his own hands, holding the six shilling piece, which Lord
+Colambre had given him, in his mouth, all the while: for he could not
+take time to put it into his pocket.
+
+"Speed ye! I wish I was driving you all the way, then," said he.
+The other postilion was not yet ready. "Then your honour sees,"
+said he, putting his head into the carriage, "_consarning_ of them
+Garraghties--Old Nick and St. Dennis--the best part, that is, the
+worst part, of what I told you, proved true; and I'm glad of it, that
+is, I'm sorry for it--but glad your honour knows it in time. So Heaven
+prosper you! And may all the saints (_barring_ St. Dennis) have charge
+of you, and all belonging to you, till we see you here again!--And
+when will it be?"
+
+"I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I will do my best
+to send your landlord to you soon. In the mean time, my good fellow,
+keep away from the sign of the Horseshoe--a man of your sense to drink
+and make an idiot and a brute of yourself!"
+
+"True!--And it was only when I had lost hope I took to it--but now!
+Bring me the book one of _yees_, out of the landlady's parlour. By
+the virtue of this book, and by all the books that ever was shut and
+opened, I won't touch a drop of spirits, good or bad, till I see your
+honour again, or some of the family, this time twelvemonth--that long
+I live on hope,--but mind, if you disappoint me, I don't swear but
+I'll take to the whiskey for comfort, all the rest of my days. But
+don't be staying here, wasting your time, advising me. Bartley! take
+the reins, can't ye?" cried he, giving them to the fresh postilion;
+"and keep on, for your life, for there's thousands of pounds depending
+on the race--so off, off, Bartley, with speed of light!"
+
+Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the roads, that,
+notwithstanding the rate at which our hero travelled, he arrived
+safely in Dublin, just in time to put his letter into the post-office,
+and to sail in that night's packet. The wind was fair when Lord
+Colambre went on board, but before they got out of the Bay it changed;
+they made no way all night: in the course of the next day, they had
+the mortification to see another packet from Dublin sail past them,
+and when they landed at Holyhead, were told the packet, which had left
+Ireland twelve hours after them, had been in an hour before them.
+The passengers had taken their places in the coach, and engaged what
+horses could be had. Lord Colambre was afraid that Mr. Garraghty was
+one of them; a person exactly answering his description had taken four
+horses, and set out half an hour before in great haste for London.
+Luckily, just as those who had taken their places in the mail were
+getting into the coach, Lord Colambre saw among them a gentleman, with
+whom he had been acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who was come over
+during the long vacation, to make a tour of pleasure in England. When
+Lord Colambre explained the reason he had for being in haste to reach
+London, he had the good-nature to give up to him his place in the
+coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night, and delayed not one moment,
+till he reached his father's house, in London.
+
+"My father at home?"
+
+"Yes, my lord, in his own room--the agent from Ireland with him, on
+particular business--desired not to be interrupted--but I'll go and
+tell him, my lord, you are come."
+
+Lord Colambre ran past the servant, as he spoke--made his way into the
+room--found his father, Sir Terence O'Fay, and Mr. Garraghty--leases
+open on the table before them; a candle lighted; Sir Terence sealing;
+Garraghty emptying a bag of guineas on the table, and Lord Clonbrony
+actually with a pen in his hand, ready to sign.
+
+As the door opened, Garraghty started back, so that half the contents
+of his bag rolled upon the floor.
+
+"Stop, my dear father, I conjure you," cried Lord Colambre, springing
+forward, and snatching the pen from his father's hand.
+
+"Colambre! God bless you, my dear boy! at all events. But how came you
+here?--And what do you mean?" said his father.
+
+"Burn it!" cried Sir Terence, pinching the sealing-wax; "for I burnt
+myself with the pleasure of the surprise."
+
+Garraghty, without saying a word, was picking up the guineas that were
+scattered upon the floor.
+
+"How fortunate I am," cried Lord Colambre, "to have arrived just in
+time to tell you, my dear father, before you put your signature to
+these papers, before you conclude this bargain, all I know, all I have
+seen of that man!"
+
+"Nick Garraghty, honest old Nick; do you know him, my lord?" said Sir
+Terence.
+
+"Too well, sir."
+
+"Mr. Garraghty, what have you done to offend my son? I did not expect
+this," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Upon my conscience, my lord, nothing to my knowledge," said Mr.
+Garraghty, picking up the guineas; "but showed him every civility,
+even so far as offering to accommodate him with cash without security;
+and where will you find the other agent, in Ireland, or any where
+else, will do that? To my knowledge, I never did any thing, by word
+or deed, to offend my Lord Colambre; nor could not, for I never
+saw him but for ten minutes, in my days; and then he was in such
+a foaming passion, begging his lordship's pardon, owing to the
+misrepresentations he met with of me, I presume, from a parcel of
+blackguards that he went amongst, _incognito_, he would not let me or
+my brother Dennis say a word to set him right; but exposed me before
+all the tenantry, and then threw himself into a hack, and drove off
+here, to stop the signing of these leases, I perceive. But I trust,"
+concluded he, putting the replenished money-bag down, with a heavy
+sound on the table, opposite to Lord Clonbrony, "I trust my Lord
+Clonbrony will do me justice; that's all I have to say."
+
+"I comprehend the force of your last argument fully, sir," said Lord
+Colambre. "May I ask, how many guineas there are in the bag?--I don't
+ask whether they are my father's or not."
+
+"They are to be your lordship's father's, sir, if he thinks proper,"
+replied Garraghty. "How many, I don't know that I can justly,
+positively say--five hundred, suppose."
+
+"And they would be my father's, if he signed those leases--I
+understand that perfectly, and understand that my father will lose
+three times that sum by the bargain. My dear father, you start--but it
+is true--is not this the rent, sir, at which you are going to let Mr.
+Garraghty have the land?" placing a paper before Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"It is--the very thing."
+
+"And here, sir, written with my own hand, are copies of the proposals
+I saw from responsible, respectable tenants, offered and refused. Is
+it so, or is it not, Mr. Garraghty?--deny it, if you can."
+
+Mr. Garraghty grew pale; his lips quivered; he stammered; and, after
+a shocking convulsion of face, could at last articulate--only, "That
+there was a great difference between tenant and tenant, his lordship
+must be sensible--especially for so large a rent."
+
+"As great a difference as between agent and agent, I am
+sensible--especially for so large a property!" said Lord Colambre,
+with cool contempt. "You find, sir, I am well informed with regard to
+this transaction; you will find, also, that I am equally well informed
+with respect to every part of your conduct towards my father and his
+tenantry. If, in relating to him what I have seen and heard, I should
+make any mistakes, you are here; and I am glad you are, to set me
+right, and to do yourself justice."
+
+"Oh! as to that, I should not presume to contradict any thing your
+lordship asserts from your own authority: where would be the use?
+I leave it all to your lordship. But, as it is not particularly
+agreeable to stay to hear one's self abused--Sir Terence! I'll thank
+you to hand me my hat!--And if you'll have the goodness, my Lord
+Clonbrony, to look over finally the accounts before morning, I'll
+call at your leisure to settle the balance, as you find convenient:
+as to the leases, I'm quite indifferent." So saying, he took up his
+money-bag.
+
+"Well, you'll call again in the morning, Mr. Garraghty?" said
+Sir Terence; "and, by that time, I hope we shall understand this
+misunderstanding better."
+
+Sir Terence pulled Lord Clonbrony's sleeve: "Don't let him go with the
+money--it's much wanted."
+
+"Let him go," said Lord Colambre: "money can be had by honourable
+means."
+
+"Wheugh!--He talks as if he had the bank of England at his command, as
+every young man does," said Sir Terence.
+
+Lord Colambre deigned no reply. Lord Clonbrony walked undecidedly
+between his agent and his son--looked at Sir Terence, and said
+nothing.
+
+Mr. Garraghty departed: Lord Clonbrony called after him from the head
+of the stairs, "I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning."
+
+Sir Terence ran down stairs after him: Lord Colambre waited quietly
+for their return.
+
+"Fifteen hundred guineas at a stroke of a goose-quill!--That was a
+neat hit, narrowly missed, of honest Nick's!" said Lord Clonbrony.
+"Too bad! too bad, faith!--I am much, very much obliged to you,
+Colambre, for that hint: by to-morrow morning we shall have him in
+another tune."
+
+"And he must double the bag, or quit," said Sir Terence.
+
+"Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three times five's
+fifteen:--fifteen hundred down, or he does not get my signature to
+those leases for his brother, nor get the agency of the Colambre
+estate.--Colambre, what more have you to tell of him? for, since he
+is making out his accounts against me, it is no harm to have a _per
+contra_ against him, that may ease my balance."
+
+"Very fair! very fair!" said Sir Terence. "My lord, trust me for
+remembering all the charges against him--every item: and when he can't
+clear himself, if I don't make him buy a good character dear enough,
+why, say I am a fool, and don't know the value of character, good or
+bad!"
+
+"If you know the value of character, Sir Terence," said Lord Colambre,
+"you know that it is not to be bought or sold." Then turning from Sir
+Terence to his father, he gave a full and true account of all he had
+seen in his progress through his Irish estates; and drew a faithful
+picture both of the bad and good agent. Lord Clonbrony, who had
+benevolent feelings, and was fond of his tenantry, was touched; and
+when his son ceased speaking, repeated several times, "Rascal! rascal!
+How dare he use my tenants so--the O'Neills in particular!--Rascal!
+bad heart!--I'll have no more to do with him." But, suddenly
+recollecting himself, he turned to Sir Terence, and added, "That's
+sooner said than done--I'll tell you honestly, Colambre, your friend
+Mr. Burke may he the best man in the world--but he is the worst man to
+apply to for a remittance or a loan, in a HURRY! He always tells me,
+'he can't distress the tenants.'"
+
+"And he never, at coming into the agency even," said Sir Terence,
+"_advanced_ a good round sum to the landlord, by way of security for
+his good behaviour. Now honest Nick did that much for us at coming
+in."
+
+"And at going out is he not to be repaid?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"That's the devil!" said Lord Clonbrony: "that's the very reason I
+can't conveniently turn him out."
+
+"I will make it convenient to you, sir, if you will permit me," said
+Lord Colambre. "In a few days I shall be of age, and will join with
+you in raising whatever sum you want, to free you from this man. Allow
+me to look over his account; and whatever the honest balance may be,
+let him have it."
+
+"My dear boy!" said Lord Clonbrony, "you're a generous fellow. Fine
+Irish heart!--glad you're my son! But there's more, much more, that
+you don't know," added he, looking at Sir Terence, who cleared his
+throat; and Lord Clonbrony, who was on the point of opening all his
+affairs to his son, stopped short.
+
+"Colambre," said he, "we will not say any thing more of this at
+present; for nothing effectual can be done till you are of age, and
+then we shall see all about it."
+
+Lord Colambre perfectly understood what his father meant, and what was
+meant by the clearing of Sir Terence's throat. Lord Clonbrony wanted
+his son to join him in opening the estate to pay his debts; and Sir
+Terence feared that if Lord Colambre were abruptly told the whole sum
+total of the debts, he would never be persuaded to join in selling or
+mortgaging so much of his patrimony as would be necessary for their
+payment. Sir Terence thought that the young man, ignorant probably of
+business, and unsuspicious of the state of his father's affairs, might
+be brought, by proper management, to any measures they desired. Lord
+Clonbrony wavered between the temptation to throw himself upon the
+generosity of his son, and the immediate convenience of borrowing a
+sum of money from his agent, to relieve his present embarrassments.
+
+"Nothing can be settled," repeated he, "till Colambre is of age; so it
+does not signify talking of it."
+
+"Why so, sir?" said Lord Colambre. "Though my act, in law, may not be
+valid till I am of age, my promise, as a man of honour, is binding
+now; and, I trust, would be as satisfactory to my father as any legal
+deed whatever."
+
+"Undoubtedly, my dear boy; but--"
+
+"But what?" said Lord Colambre, following his father's eye, which
+turned to Sir Terence O'Fay, as if asking his permission to explain.
+"As my father's friend, sir, you ought, permit me to say, at this
+moment to use your influence to prevail upon him to throw aside all
+reserve with a son, whose warmest wish is to serve him, and to see him
+at ease and happy."
+
+"Generous, dear boy," cried Lord Clonbrony. "Terence, I can't stand
+it; but how shall I bring myself to name the amount of the debts?"
+
+"At some time or other, I must know it," said Lord Colambre: "I cannot
+be better prepared at any moment than the present; never more disposed
+to give my assistance to relieve all difficulties. Blindfold, I cannot
+be led to any purpose, sir," said he, looking at Sir Terence: "the
+attempt would be degrading and futile. Blindfolded I will not be--but,
+with my eyes open, I will see, and go straight and prompt as heart can
+go, to my father's interest, without a look or thought to my own."
+
+"By St. Patrick! the spirit of a prince, and an Irish prince, spoke
+there," cried Sir Terence: "and if I'd fifty hearts, you'd have all in
+your hand this minute, at your service, and warm. Blindfold you! After
+that, the man that would attempt it _desarves_ to be shot; and I'd
+have no sincerer pleasure in life than shooting him this moment, was
+he my best friend. But it's not Clonbrony, or your father, my lord,
+would act that way, no more than Sir Terence O'Fay--there's the
+schedule of the debts," drawing a paper from his bosom; "and I'll
+swear to the lot, and not a man on earth could do that but myself."
+
+Lord Colambre opened the paper. His father turned aside, covering his
+face with both his hands.
+
+"Tut, man," said Sir Terence: "I know him now better than you; he will
+stand, you'll find, the shock of that regiment of figures--he is steel
+to the backbone, and proof spirit."
+
+"I thank you, my dear father," said Lord Colambre, "for trusting
+me thus at once with a view of the truth. At first sight it is, I
+acknowledge, worse than I expected; but I make no doubt that, when
+you allow me to examine Mr. Garraghty's accounts and Mr. Mordicai's
+claims, we shall be able to reduce this alarming total considerably."
+
+"The devil a pound, nor a penny," said Sir Terence; "for you have to
+deal with a Jew and Old Nick; and, since I'm not a match for them, I
+don't know who is; and I have no hope of getting any abatement. I've
+looked over the accounts till I'm sick."
+
+"Nevertheless, you will observe that fifteen hundred guineas have been
+saved to my father at one stroke, by his not signing those leases."
+
+"Saved to you, my lord; not your father, if you please," said Sir
+Terence. "For now I'm upon the square with you, I must be straight
+as an arrow, and deal with you as the son and friend of my friend:
+before, I was considering you only as the son and heir, which is quite
+another thing, you know; accordingly, acting for your father here,
+I was making the best bargain against you I could: honestly, now, I
+tell you. I knew the value of the lands well enough: I was as sharp
+as Garraghty, and he knew it; I was to have had for your father
+_the difference_ from him, partly in cash and partly in balance of
+accounts--you comprehend--and you only would have been the loser, and
+never would have known it, may be, till after we all were dead and
+buried; and then you might have set aside Garraghty's lease easy, and
+no harm done to any but a rogue that _desarved_ it; and, in the mean
+time, an accommodation to my honest friend, my lord, your father here.
+But, as fate would have it, you upset all by your progress incognito
+through them estates. Well, it's best as it is, and I am better
+pleased to be as we are, trusting all to a generous son's own heart.
+Now put the poor father out of pain, and tell us what you'll do, my
+dear."
+
+"In one word, then," said Lord Colambre, "I will, upon two conditions,
+either join my father in levying fines to enable him to sell or
+mortgage whatever portion of his estate is necessary for the payment
+of these debts; or I will, in whatever mode he can point out, as more
+agreeable or more advantageous to him, join in giving security to his
+creditors."
+
+"Dear, noble fellow!" cried Sir Terence: "none but an Irishman could
+do it."
+
+Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate, but held his
+arms open to embrace his son.
+
+"But you have not heard my conditions yet," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, confound the conditions!" cried Sir Terence.
+
+"What conditions could he ask, that I could refuse at this minute?"
+said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Nor I--was it my heart's blood, and were I to be hanged for it,"
+cried Sir Terence. "And what are the conditions?"
+
+"That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from the agency."
+
+"And welcome, and glad to get rid of him--the rogue, the tyrant," said
+Lord Clonbrony; "and, to be beforehand with you in your next wish, put
+Mr. Burke into his place."
+
+"I'll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this minute," cried
+Terry, "with all the pleasure in life. No; it's my Lord Colambre
+should do that in all justice."
+
+"But what's your next condition? I hope it's no worse," said Lord
+Clonbrony.
+
+"That you and my mother should cease to be absentees."
+
+"Oh, murder!" said Sir Terence; "may be that's not so easy; for there
+are two words to that bargain."
+
+Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was ready to return
+to Ireland next morning, and to promise to reside on his estate all
+the rest of his days; that there was nothing he desired more, provided
+Lady Clonbrony would consent to it; but that he could not promise for
+her; that she was as obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had
+often tried, but that there was no moving her; and that, in short, he
+could not promise on her part.
+
+But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he must insist.
+Unless this condition were granted, he would not engage to do any
+thing.
+
+"Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes to town; she
+will come up from Buxton the day you're of age to sign some papers,"
+said Lord Clonbrony; "but," added he with a very dejected look and
+voice, "if all's to depend on my Lady Clonbrony's consenting to return
+to Ireland, I'm as far from all hope of being at ease as ever."
+
+"Upon my conscience, we're all at sea again," said Sir Terence.
+
+Lord Colambre was silent; but in his silence there was such an air
+of firmness, that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir Terence were convinced
+entreaties would, on this point, be fruitless. Lord Clonbrony sighed
+deeply.
+
+"But when it's ruin or safety! and her husband and all belonging to
+her at stake, the woman can't persist in being a mule," said Sir
+Terence.
+
+"Of whom are you talking, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Of whom? Oh, I beg your lordship's pardon--I thought I was talking to
+my lord; but, in other words, as you are her son, I'm persuaded her
+ladyship, your mother, will prove herself a reasonable woman--when she
+sees she can't help it. So, my Lord Clonbrony, cheer up; a great deal
+may be done by the fear of Mordicai, and an execution, especially now
+there's no prior creditor. Since there's no reserve between you and
+I now, my Lord Colambre," said Sir Terence, "I must tell you all,
+and how we shambled on those months while you were in Ireland. First,
+Mordicai went to law, to prove I was in a conspiracy with your father,
+pretending to be prior creditor, to keep him off and out of his own;
+which, after a world of swearing and law--law always takes time to do
+justice, that's one comfort--the villain proved at last to be true
+enough, and so cast us; and I was forced to be paid off last week. So
+there's no prior creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then
+his execution was coming down upon us, and nothing to stay it till I
+thought of a monthly annuity to Mordicai, in the shape of a wager.
+So the morning after he cast us, I went to him: 'Mr. Mordicai,' says
+I, 'you must be _plased_ to see a man you've beaten so handsomely;
+and though I'm sore, both for myself and my friend, yet you see I
+can laugh still, though an execution is no laughing matter, and
+I'm sensible you've one in petto in your sleeve for my friend Lord
+Clonbrony. But I'll lay you a wager of a hundred guineas on paper,
+that a marriage of his son with an heiress, before next Lady-day, will
+set all to rights, and pay you with a compliment too."
+
+"Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such thing?"
+
+"I did--but what was it but a wager? which is nothing but a dream;
+and, when lost, as I am as sensible as you are that it must be, why
+what is it, after all, but a bonus, in a gentlemanlike form, to
+Mordicai? which, I grant you, is more than he deserves--for staying
+the execution till you be of age; and even for my Lady Clonbrony's
+sake, though I know she hates me like poison, rather than have her
+disturbed by an execution, I'd pay the hundred guineas this minute out
+of my own pocket, if I had 'em in it."
+
+A thundering knock at the door was heard at this moment.
+
+"Never heed it; let 'em thunder," said Sir Terence: "whoever it is,
+they won't get in; for my lord bid them let none in for their life.
+It's necessary for us to be very particular about the street-door
+now; and I advise a double chain for it, and to have the footmen well
+tutored to look before they run to a double rap; for a double rap
+might be a double trap."
+
+"My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord," said a footman, throwing open the
+door.
+
+"My mother! Miss Nugent!" cried Lord Colambre, springing eagerly
+forward.
+
+"Colambre! Here!" said his mother: "but it's all too late now, and no
+matter where you are."
+
+Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her; and he, without
+considering the coldness of her manner, scarcely hearing, and not at
+all understanding, the words she said, fixed his eyes on his cousin,
+who, with a countenance all radiant with affectionate joy, held out
+her hand to him.
+
+"Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure!"
+
+He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the recollection
+of _St. Omar_ crossed his mind: he checked himself, and said something
+about joy and pleasure, but his countenance expressed neither; and
+Miss Nugent, much surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew
+her hand, and, turning away, left the room.
+
+"Grace! darling!" called Lord Clonbrony, "whither so fast, before
+you've given me a word or a kiss?"
+
+She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her in his
+arms. "Why must I let you go? And what makes you so pale, my dear
+child?"
+
+"I am a little, a little tired--I will be with you again soon."
+
+Her uncle let her go.
+
+"Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed with her, by all I
+can see," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I know what is
+to blame and who is to blame," said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone of
+displeasure, fixing her eyes upon her son. "Yes, you may well look
+confounded, Colambre; but it is too late now--you should have known
+your own mind in time. I see you have heard it, then--but I am sure
+I don't know how; for it was only decided the day I left Buxton. The
+news could hardly travel faster than I did. Pray how did you hear it?"
+
+"Hear what, ma'am?" said Colambre.
+
+"Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married."
+
+"All! Now, Lord Colambre, you _reelly_ are too much for my patience.
+But I flatter myself you will feel, when I tell you that it is your
+friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, as I always prophesied, who has carried off
+the prize from you."
+
+"But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should say, that
+I do feel sincere pleasure in this marriage--I always wished it: my
+friend, Sir Arthur, from the first moment, trusted me with the secret
+of his attachment; he knew that he had my warm good wishes for his
+success; he knew that I thought most highly of the young lady; but
+that I never thought of her as a wife for myself."
+
+"And why did not you? that is the very thing I complain of," said Lady
+Clonbrony. "But it is all over now. You may set your heart at ease,
+for they are to be married on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst is
+ready to break her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for her
+daughter; and you, ungrateful as you are, you don't know how she
+wished you to be the happy man. But only conceive, after all that
+has passed, Miss Broadhurst had the assurance to expect I would let
+my niece be her bride's-maid. Oh, I flatly refused; that is, I told
+Grace it could not be; and, that there might be no affront to Mrs.
+Broadhurst, who did not deserve it, I pretended Grace had never
+mentioned it; but ordered my carriage, and left Buxton directly. Grace
+was hurt, for she is very warm in her friendships. I am sorry to hurt
+Grace. But _reelly_ I could not let her be bride's-maid:--and that, if
+you must know, is what vexed her, and made the tears come in her eyes,
+I suppose--and I'm sorry for it; but one must keep up one's dignity a
+little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen--and _reelly_
+now, a very odd girl; never did any thing like any body else; settled
+her marriage at last in the oddest way. Grace can tell you the
+particulars. I own, I am tired of the subject, and tired of my
+journey. My lord, I shall take leave to dine in my own room to-day,"
+continued her ladyship, as she quitted the room.
+
+"I hope her ladyship did not notice me," said Sir Terence O'Fay,
+coming from behind a window-curtain.
+
+"Why, Terry, what did you hide for?" said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Hide! I didn't hide, nor wouldn't from any man living, _let alone_
+any woman.[1] Hide! no; but I just stood looking out of the window,
+behind this curtain, that my poor Lady Clonbrony might not be
+discomfited and shocked by the sight of one whom she can't abide, the
+very minute she come home. Oh, I've some consideration--it would have
+put her out of humour worse with both of you too; and for that there's
+no need, as far as I see. So I'll take myself off to my coffee-house
+to dine, and may be you may get her down and into spirits again. But,
+for your lives, don't touch upon Ireland this night, nor till she has
+fairly got the better of the marriage. _Apropos_--there's my wager
+to Mordicai gone at a slap. It's I that ought to be scolding you, my
+Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as well yet, not in point of
+purse, may be. But I'm not one of those that think that money's every
+thing--though, I grant you, in this world there's nothing to be had
+without it--love excepted,--which most people don't believe in--but
+not I--in particular cases. So I leave you, with my blessing, and I've
+a notion, at this time, that is better than my company--your most
+devoted."
+
+[Footnote 1: Leaving any woman out of the question.]
+
+The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded by Lord Clonbrony
+to stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre as he went out of the room, he
+said, "I've an eye, in going, to your heart's ease too. When I played
+myself, I never liked standers-by."
+
+Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he never could help
+boasting of his discoveries.
+
+Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure; and followed
+his equally judicious advice, not to touch upon Ireland this night.
+
+Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to be relieved from
+the necessity of talking; and he indulged himself in considering what
+might be passing in Miss Nugent's mind. She now appeared in remarkably
+good spirits; for her aunt had given her a hint that she thought
+her out of humour because she had not been permitted to be Miss
+Broadhurst's bride's-maid, and she was determined to exert herself
+to dispel this notion. This it was now easy for her to do, because
+she had, by this time, in her own imagination, found a plausible
+excuse for that coldness in Lord Colambre's reception of her, by
+which she had at first been hurt: she had settled it, that he had
+taken it for granted she was of his mother's sentiments respecting
+Miss Broadhurst's marriage, and that this idea, and perhaps the
+apprehension of her reproaches, had caused this embarrassment--she
+knew that she could easily set this misunderstanding right.
+Accordingly, when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep about
+Buxton, and was taking her afternoon's nap, as it was her custom to do
+when she had neither cards nor company to keep her awake, Miss Nugent
+began to explain her own sentiments, and to give Lord Colambre, as her
+aunt had desired, an account of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst's
+marriage had been settled.
+
+"In the first place," said she, "let me assure you, that I rejoice in
+this marriage: I think your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, is every way
+deserving of my friend Miss Broadhurst; and this from me," said she,
+smiling, "is no slight eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress
+of their attachment; and it has been founded on the perception of
+such excellent qualities on each side, that I have no fear for its
+permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl's honourable conduct in paying his
+father's debts, and his generosity to his mother and sisters, whose
+fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my
+friend. It was like what she would have done herself, and like--in
+short, it is what few young men, as she said, of the present day
+would do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going
+without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he felt
+to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of
+fashionable young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a very
+different impression on Miss Broadhurst's mind; her esteem and
+admiration were excited by these proofs of strength of character, and
+of just and good principles."
+
+"If you go on you will make me envious and jealous of my friend," said
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"You jealous!--Oh, it is too late now--besides, you cannot be jealous,
+for you never loved."
+
+"I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge."
+
+"There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you--he loved, and
+my friend saw it."
+
+"She was clear-sighted," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"She was clear-sighted," repeated Miss Nugent; "but if you mean that
+she was vain, and apt to fancy people in love with her, I can assure
+you that you are mistaken. Never was woman, young or old, more
+clear-sighted to the views of those by whom she was addressed. No
+flattery, no fashion, could blind her judgment."
+
+"She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"And a friend for life, too, I am sure you will allow--and she had
+such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might have puzzled
+the choice and turned the brain of any inferior person. Such a
+succession of lovers as she has had this summer, ever since you
+went to Ireland--they appeared and vanished like figures in a magic
+lantern. She had three noble admirers--rank in three different forms
+offered themselves First came in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank
+and gaming; then rank, very high rank, over head and ears in debt.
+All of these were rejected; and, as they moved off, I thought Mrs.
+Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next came fashion, with his
+head, heart, and soul in his cravat--he quickly made his bow, or
+rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of snuff. Then came a
+man of wit--but it was wit without worth; and presently came 'worth
+without wit.' She preferred 'wit and worth united,' which she
+fortunately at last found, Lord Colambre, in your friend, Sir Arthur
+Berryl."
+
+"Grace, my girl!" said her uncle, "I'm glad to see you've got up your
+spirits again, though you were not to be bride's-maid. Well, I hope
+you'll be bride soon--I'm sure you ought to be--and you should think
+of rewarding that poor Mr. Salisbury, who plagues me to death,
+whenever he can catch hold of me, about you. He must have our
+definitive at last, you know, Grace."
+
+A silence ensued, which neither Miss Nugent nor Lord Colambre seemed
+able or willing to break.
+
+"Very good company, faith, you three!--One of ye asleep, and the other
+two saying nothing, to keep one awake. Colambre, have you no Dublin
+news? Grace, have you no Buxton scandal? What was it Lady Clonbrony
+told us you'd tell us, about the oddness of Miss Broadhurst's settling
+her marriage? Tell me that, for I love to hear odd things."
+
+"Perhaps you will not think it odd," said she. "One evening--but I
+should begin by telling you that three of her admirers, besides Sir
+Arthur Berryl, had followed her to Buxton, and had been paying their
+court to her all the time we were there; and at last grew impatient
+for her decision."
+
+"Ay, for her definitive!" said Lord Clonbrony. Miss Nugent was put out
+again, but resumed.
+
+"So one evening, just before the dancing began, the gentlemen were
+all standing round Miss Broadhurst; one of them said, 'I wish Miss
+Broadhurst would decide--that whoever she dances with to-night should
+be her partner for life: what a happy man he would be!'
+
+"'But how can I decide?' said Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"'I wish I had a friend to plead for me!' said one of the suitors,
+looking at me.
+
+"'Have you no friend of your own?' said Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"'Plenty of friends,' said the gentleman.
+
+"'Plenty!--then you must be a very happy man,' replied Miss
+Broadhurst. 'Come,' said she, laughing, 'I will dance with that man
+who can convince me that he has, near relations excepted, one true
+friend in the world! That man who has made the best friend, I dare
+say, will make the best husband!'
+
+"At that moment," continued Miss Nugent, "I was certain who would
+be her choice. The gentlemen all declared at first that they had
+abundance of excellent friends--the best friends in the world! but
+when Miss Broadhurst cross-examined them, as to what their friends
+had done for them, or what they were willing to do, modern friendship
+dwindled into a ridiculously small compass. I cannot give you the
+particulars of the cross-examination, though it was conducted with
+great spirit and humour by Miss Broadhurst; but I can tell you the
+result--that Sir Arthur Berryl, by incontrovertible facts, and
+eloquence warm from the heart, convinced every body present that he
+had the best friend in the world; and Miss Broadhurst, as he finished
+speaking, gave him her hand, and he led her off in triumph--So
+you see, Lord Colambre, you were at last the cause of my friend's
+marriage!"
+
+She turned to Lord Colambre as she spoke these words, with such
+an affectionate smile, and such an expression of open, innocent
+tenderness in her whole countenance, that our hero could hardly resist
+the impulse of his passion--could hardly restrain himself from falling
+at her feet that instant, and declaring his love. "But St. Omar! St.
+Omar!--It must not be!"
+
+"I must be gone!" said Lord Clonbrony, pulling out his watch. "It is
+time to go to my club; and poor Terry will wonder what has become of
+me."
+
+Lord Colambre instantly offered to accompany his father; much to Lord
+Clonbrony's, and more to Miss Nugent's surprise.
+
+"What!" said she to herself, "after so long an absence, leave
+me!--Leave his mother, with whom he always used to stay--on purpose to
+avoid me! What can I have done to displease him? It is clear it was
+not about Miss Broadhurst's marriage he was offended; for he looked
+pleased, and like himself, whilst I was talking of that: but the
+moment afterwards, what a constrained, unintelligible expression of
+countenance--and leaves me to go to a club which he detests!"
+
+As the gentlemen shut the door on leaving the room, Lady Clonbrony
+awakened, and, starting up, exclaimed, "What's the matter? Are they
+gone? Is Colambre gone?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, with my uncle."
+
+"Very odd! very odd of him to go and leave me! he always used to stay
+with me--what did he say about me?"
+
+"Nothing, ma'am."
+
+"Well, then, I have nothing to say about him, or about any thing,
+indeed, for I'm excessively tired and stupid--alone in Lon'on's as bad
+as any where else. Ring the bell, and we'll go to bed directly--if you
+have no objection, Grace."
+
+Grace made no objection: Lady Clonbrony went to bed and to sleep in
+ten minutes. Miss Nugent went to bed; but she lay awake, considering
+what could be the cause of her cousin Colambre's hard unkindness, and
+of "his altered eye." She was openness itself; and she determined
+that, the first moment she could speak to him alone, she would at once
+ask for an explanation. With this resolution, she rose in the morning,
+and went down to the breakfast-room, in hopes of meeting him, as it
+had formerly been his custom to be early; and she expected to find him
+reading in his usual place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+No--Lord Colambre was not in his accustomed place, reading in the
+breakfast-room; nor did he make his appearance till both his father
+and mother had been some time at breakfast.
+
+"Good morning to you, my Lord Colambre," said his mother, in a
+reproachful tone, the moment he entered; "I am much obliged to you for
+your company last night."
+
+"Good morning to you, Colambre," said his father, in a more jocose
+tone of reproach; "I am obliged to you for your good company last
+night."
+
+"Good morning to you, Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent; and though she
+endeavoured to throw all reproach from her looks, and to let none be
+heard in her voice, yet there was a slight tremulous motion in that
+voice, which struck our hero to the heart.
+
+"I thank you, ma'am, for missing me," said he, addressing himself to
+his mother: "I stayed away but half an hour; I accompanied my father
+to St. James's-street, and when I returned I found that every one had
+retired to rest."
+
+"Oh, was that the case?" said Lady Clonbrony: "I own I thought it very
+unlike you to leave me in that sort of way."
+
+"And, lest you should be jealous of that half hour when he was
+accompanying me," said Lord Clonbrony, "I must remark, that, though
+I had his body with me, I had none of his mind; that he left at home
+with you ladies, or with some fair one across the water, for the
+deuce of two words did he bestow upon me, with all his pretence of
+accompanying me."
+
+"Lord Colambre seems to have a fair chance of a pleasant breakfast,"
+said Miss Nugent, smiling; "reproaches on all sides."
+
+"I have heard none on your side, Grace," said Lord Clonbrony; "and
+that's the reason, I suppose, he wisely takes his seat beside you. But
+come, we will not badger you any more, my dear boy. We have given him
+as fine a complexion amongst us as if he had been out hunting these
+three hours: have not we, Grace?"
+
+"When Colambre has been a season or two more in Lon'on, he'll not be
+so easily put out of countenance," said Lady Clonbrony; "you don't see
+young men of fashion here blushing about nothing."
+
+"No, nor about any thing, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony; "but that's
+no proof they do nothing they ought to blush for."
+
+"What they do, there's no occasion for ladies to inquire," said Lady
+Clonbrony; "but this I know, that it's a great disadvantage to a young
+man of a certain rank to blush; for no people, who live in a certain
+set, ever do: and it is the most opposite thing possible to a certain
+air, which, I own, I think Colambre wants; and now that he has done
+travelling in Ireland, which is no use in _pint_ of giving a gentleman
+a travelled air, or any thing of that sort, I hope he will put himself
+under my conduct for next winter's campaign in town."
+
+Lord Clonbrony looked as if he did not know how to look; and, after
+drumming on the table for some seconds, said, "Colambre, I told you
+how it would be: that's a fatal hard condition of yours."
+
+"Not a hard condition, I hope, my dear father," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Hard it must be, since it can't be fulfilled, or won't be fulfilled,
+which comes to the same thing," replied Lord Clonbrony, sighing.
+
+"I am persuaded, sir, that it will be fulfilled," said Lord Colambre;
+"I am persuaded that, when my mother hears the truth, and the whole
+truth--when she finds that your happiness, and the happiness of her
+whole family, depend upon her yielding her taste on one subject--"
+
+"Oh, I see now what you are about," cried Lady Clonbrony; "you are
+coming round with your persuasions and prefaces to ask me to give
+up Lon'on, and go back with you to Ireland, my lord. You may save
+yourselves the trouble, all of you; for no earthly persuasions shall
+make me do it. I will never give up my taste on that _pint_. My
+happiness has a right to be as much considered as your father's,
+Colambre, or anybody's; and, in one word, I won't do it," cried she,
+rising angrily from the breakfast table.
+
+"There! did not I tell you how it would be?" cried Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"My mother has not heard me yet," said Lord Colambre, laying his hand
+upon his mother's arm, as she attempted to pass: "hear me, madam, for
+your own sake. You do not know what will happen, this very day--this
+very hour, perhaps--if you do not listen to me."
+
+"And what will happen?" said Lady Clonbrony, stopping short.
+
+"Ay, indeed; she little knows," said Lord Clonbrony, "what's hanging
+over her head."
+
+"Hanging over my head?" said Lady Clonbrony, looking up;
+"nonsense!--what?"
+
+"An execution, madam!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Gracious me! an execution!" said Lady Clonbrony, sitting down again;
+"but I heard you talk of an execution months ago, my lord, before my
+son went to Ireland, and it blew over--I heard no more of it."
+
+"It won't blow over now," said Lord Clonbrony; "you'll hear more of
+it now. Sir Terence O'Fay it was, you may remember, that settled it
+then."
+
+"Well, and can't he settle it now? Send for him, since he understands
+these cases; and I will ask him to dinner myself, for your sake, and
+be very civil to him, my lord."
+
+"All your civility, either for my sake or your own, will not signify a
+straw, my dear, in this case--any thing that poor Terry could do, he'd
+do, and welcome, without it; but he can do nothing."
+
+"Nothing!--that's very extraordinary. But I'm clear no one dare to
+bring a real execution against us in earnest; and you are only trying
+to frighten me to your purpose, like a child; but it shan't do."
+
+"Very well, my dear; you'll see--too late."
+
+A knock at the house door.
+
+"Who is it?--What is it?" cried Lord Clonbrony, growing very pale.
+
+Lord Colambre changed colour too, and ran down stairs. "Don't let 'em
+let any body in, for your life, Colambre; under any pretence," cried
+Lord Clonbrony, calling from the head of the stairs: then running to
+the window, "By all that's good, it's Mordicai himself! and the people
+with him."
+
+"Lean your head on me, my dear aunt," said Miss Nugent: Lady Clonbrony
+leant back, trembling, and ready to faint.
+
+"But he's walking off now; the rascal could not get in--safe for the
+present!" cried Lord Clonbrony, rubbing his hands, and repeating,
+"safe for the present!"
+
+"Safe for the present!" repeated Lord Colambre, coming again into the
+room. "Safe for the present hour."
+
+"He could not get in, I suppose.--Oh, I warned all the servants
+well," said Lord Clonbrony; "and so did Terry. Ay, there's the rascal
+Mordicai walking off, at the end of the street; I know his walk a mile
+off. Gad! I can breathe again. I am glad he's gone. But he will come
+back and always lie in wait, and some time or other, when we're off
+our guard (unawares), he'll slide in."
+
+"Slide in! Oh, horrid!" cried Lady Clonbrony, sitting up, and wiping
+away the water which Miss Nugent had sprinkled on her face.
+
+"Were you much alarmed?" said Lord Colambre, with a voice of
+tenderness, looking at his mother first, but his eyes fixing on Miss
+Nugent.
+
+"Shockingly!" said Lady Clonbrony; "I never thought it would _reelly_
+come to this."
+
+"It will really come to much more, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony,
+"that you may depend upon, unless you prevent it."
+
+"Lord! What can I do?--I know nothing of business: how should I, Lord
+Clonbrony? But I know there's Colambre--I was always told that when he
+was of age, every thing should be settled; and why can't he settle it
+when he's upon the spot?"
+
+"And upon one condition, I will," cried Lord Colambre; "at what loss
+to myself, my dear mother, I need not mention."
+
+"Then I will mention it," cried Lord Clonbrony: "at the loss it will
+be of nearly half the estate he would have had, if we had not spent
+it."
+
+"Loss! Oh, I am excessively sorry my son's to be at such a loss--it
+must not be."
+
+"It cannot be otherwise," said Lord Clonbrony; "nor it can't be this
+way either, my Lady Clonbrony, unless you comply with his condition,
+and consent to return to Ireland."
+
+"I cannot--I will not," replied Lady Clonbrony. "Is this your
+condition, Colambre?--I take it exceedingly ill of you. I think it
+very unkind, and unhandsome, and ungenerous, and undutiful of you,
+Colambre; you my son!" She poured forth a torrent of reproaches;
+then came to entreaties and tears. But our hero, prepared for this,
+had steeled his mind; and he stood resolved not to indulge his own
+feelings, or to yield to caprice or persuasion, but to do that which
+he knew was best for the happiness of hundreds of tenants, who
+depended upon them--best for both his father and his mother's ultimate
+happiness and respectability.
+
+"It's all in vain," cried Lord Clonbrony; "I have no resource but one,
+and I must condescend now to go to him this minute, for Mordicai will
+be back and seize all--I must sign and leave all to Garraghty."
+
+"Well, sign, sign, my lord, and settle with Garraghty. Colambre, I've
+heard all the complaints you brought over against that man. My lord
+spent half the night telling them to me: but all agents are bad, I
+suppose; at any rate I can't help it--sign, sign, my lord; he has
+money--yes, do; go and settle with him, my lord."
+
+Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same moment, stopped
+Lord Clonbrony as he was quitting the room, and then approached Lady
+Clonbrony with supplicating looks; but she turned her head to the
+other side, and, as if putting away their entreaties, made a repelling
+motion with both her hands, and exclaimed, "No, Grace Nugent!--no,
+Colambre--no--no, Colambre! I'll never hear of leaving Lon'on--there's
+no living out of Lon'on--I can't, I won't live out of Lon'on, I say."
+
+Her son saw that the _Londonomania_ was now stronger than ever
+upon her, but resolved to make one desperate appeal to her natural
+feelings, which, though smothered, he could not believe were wholly
+extinguished: he caught her repelling hands, and pressing them with
+respectful tenderness to his lips, "Oh, my dear mother, you once loved
+your son," said he; "loved him better than any thing in this world: if
+one spark of affection for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him,
+if he pass the bounds--bounds he never passed before--of filial duty.
+Mother, in compliance with your wishes my father left Ireland--left
+his home, his duties, his friends, his natural connexions, and for
+many years he has lived in England, and you have spent many seasons in
+London."
+
+"Yes, in the very best company--in the very first circles," said Lady
+Clonbrony; "cold as the high-bred English are said to be in general to
+strangers."
+
+"Yes," replied Lord Colambre, "the very best company (if you mean the
+most fashionable) have accepted of our entertainments. We have forced
+our way into their frozen circles; we have been permitted to breathe
+in these elevated regions of fashion; we have it to say, that the
+Duke of _This_, and my Lady _That_, are of our acquaintance.--We may
+say more: we may boast that we have vied with those whom we could
+never equal. And at what expense have we done all this? For a single
+season, the last winter (I will go no farther), at the expense of
+a great part of your timber, the growth of a century--swallowed in
+the entertainments of one winter in London! Our hills to be bare for
+another half century to come! But let the trees go: I think more of
+your tenants--of those left under the tyranny of a bad agent, at the
+expense of every comfort, every hope they enjoyed!--tenants, who were
+thriving and prosperous; who used to smile upon you, and to bless you
+both! In one cottage, I have seen--"
+
+Here Lord Clonbrony, unable to restrain his emotion, hurried out of
+the room.
+
+"Then I am sure it is not my fault," said Lady Clonbrony; "for I
+brought my lord a large fortune: and I am confident I have not, after
+all, spent more any season, in the best company, than he has among a
+set of low people, in his muddling, discreditable way."
+
+"And how has he been reduced to this?" said Lord Colambre. "Did he
+not formerly live with gentlemen, his equals, in his own country;
+his contemporaries? Men of the first station and character, whom I
+met in Dublin, spoke of him in a manner that gratified the heart of
+his son: he was respectable and respected, at his own home; but when
+he was forced away from that home, deprived of his objects and his
+occupations, compelled to live in London, or at watering-places, where
+he could find no employments that were suitable to him--set down, late
+in life, in the midst of strangers, to him cold and reserved--himself
+too proud to bend to those who disdained him as an Irishman--is he
+not more to be pitied than blamed for--yes, I, his son, must say the
+word--the degradation which has ensued? And do not the feelings, which
+have this moment forced him to leave the room, show of what he is
+capable? Oh, mother!" cried Lord Colambre, throwing himself at Lady
+Clonbrony's feet, "restore my father to himself! Should such feelings
+be wasted?--No; give them again to expand in benevolent, in kind,
+useful actions; give him again to his tenantry, his duties, his
+country, his home; return to that home yourself, dear mother! leave
+all the nonsense of high life--scorn the impertinence of these
+dictators of fashion, who, in return for all the pains we take to
+imitate, to court them--in return for the sacrifice of health,
+fortune, peace of mind--bestow sarcasm, contempt, ridicule, and
+mimicry!"
+
+"Oh, Colambre! Colambre! mimicry--I'll never believe it."
+
+"Believe me--believe me, mother; for I speak of what I know. Scorn
+them--quit them! Return to an unsophisticated people--to poor, but
+grateful hearts, still warm with the remembrance of your kindness,
+still blessing you for favours long since conferred, ever praying to
+see you once more. Believe me, for I speak of what I know--your son
+has heard these prayers, has felt these blessings. Here! at my heart
+felt, and still feel them, when I was not known to be your son, in the
+cottage of the widow O'Neil."
+
+"Oh, did you see the widow O'Neil! and does she remember me?" said
+Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"Remember you! and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept in the bed--I would
+tell you more, but I cannot."
+
+"Well! I never should have thought they would have remembered me so
+long! poor people!" said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"I thought all in Ireland must have forgotten me, it is now so long
+since I was at home."
+
+"You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can answer for that.
+Return home, my dearest mother--let me see you once more among your
+natural friends, beloved, respected, happy!"
+
+"Oh, return! let us return home!" cried Miss Nugent, with a voice of
+great emotion. "Return, let us return home! My beloved aunt, speak to
+us! say that you grant our request!" She kneeled beside Lord Colambre,
+as she spoke.
+
+"Is it possible to resist that voice, that look?" thought Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"If any body knew," said Lady Clonbrony, "if any body could conceive,
+how I detest the sight, the thoughts of that old yellow damask
+furniture, in the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle--"
+
+"Good Heavens!" cried Lord Colambre, starting up, and looking at his
+mother in stupified astonishment; "is _that_ what you are thinking of,
+ma'am?"
+
+"The yellow damask furniture!" said her niece, smiling. "Oh, if that's
+all, that shall never offend your eyes again. Aunt, my painted velvet
+chairs are finished; and trust the furnishing that room to me. The
+legacy lately left me cannot be better applied--you shall see how
+beautifully it will be furnished."
+
+"Oh, if I had money, I should like to do it myself; but it would take
+an immensity to new furnish Clonbrony Castle properly."
+
+"The furniture in this house," said Miss Nugent, looking round--
+
+"Would do a great deal towards it, I declare," cried Lady Clonbrony;
+"that never struck me before, Grace, I protest--and what would
+not suit one might sell or exchange here--and it would be a great
+amusement to me--and I should like to set the fashion of something
+better in that country. And I declare now, I should like to see those
+poor people, and that widow O'Neil. I do assure you, I think I was
+happier at home; only that one gets, I don't know how, a notion,
+one's nobody out of Lon'on. But, after all, there's many drawbacks
+in Lon'on--and many people are very impertinent, I'll allow--and if
+there's a woman in the world I hate, it is Mrs. Dareville--and, if I
+was leaving Lon'on, I should not regret Lady Langdale neither--and
+Lady St. James is as cold as a stone. Colambre may well say
+_frozen circles_--these sort of people are really very cold, and
+have, I do believe, no hearts. I don't verily think there is
+one of them would regret me more--Hey! let me see, Dublin--the
+winter--Merrion-square--new furnished--and the summer--Clonbrony
+Castle!"
+
+Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till her mind should
+have worked itself clear. One great obstacle had been removed; and now
+that the yellow damask had been taken out of her imagination, they no
+longer despaired.
+
+Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room. "What hopes?--any? if
+not, let me go." He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony's
+countenance--hope in the face of his son and niece. "My dear, dear
+Lady Clonbrony, make us all happy by one word," said he, kissing her.
+
+"You never kissed me so since we left Ireland before," said Lady
+Clonbrony. "Well, since it must be so, let us go," said she.
+
+"Did I ever see such joy!" said Lord Clonbrony, clasping his hands: "I
+never expected such joy in my life!--I must go and tell poor Terry!"
+and off he ran.
+
+"And now, since we are to go," said Lady Clonbrony, "pray let us
+go immediately, before the thing gets wind, else I shall have Mrs.
+Dareville, and Lady Langdale, and Lady St. James, and all the world,
+coming to condole with me, just to satisfy their own curiosity: and
+then, Miss Pratt, who hears every thing that every body says, and more
+than they say, will come and tell me how it is reported every where
+that we are ruined. Oh! I never could bear to stay and hear all this.
+I'll tell you what I'll do--you are to be of age soon, Colambre,--very
+well, there are some papers for me to sign,--I must stay to put my
+name to them, and, that done, that minute I'll leave you and Lord
+Clonbrony to settle all the rest; and I'll get into my carriage, with
+Grace, and go down to Buxton again; where you can come for me, and
+take me up, when you're all ready to go to Ireland--and we shall be so
+far on our way. Colambre, what do you say to this?"
+
+"That, if you like it, madam," said he, giving one hasty glance at
+Miss Nugent, and withdrawing his eyes, "it is the best possible
+arrangement."
+
+"So," thought Grace, "that is the best possible arrangement which
+takes us away."
+
+"If I like it!" said Lady Clonbrony; "to be sure I do, or I should
+not propose it. What is Colambre thinking of? I know, Grace, at all
+events, what you and I must think of--of having the furniture packed
+up, and settling what's to go, and what's to be exchanged, and all
+that. Now, my dear, go and write a note directly to Mr. Soho, and bid
+him come himself, immediately: and we'll go and make out a catalogue
+this instant of what furniture I will have packed."
+
+So with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired. "I go to
+my business, Colambre: and I leaven you to settle yours in peace."
+
+In peace!--Never was our hero's mind less at peace than at this
+moment. The more his heart felt that it was painful, the more his
+reason told him it was necessary that he should part from Grace
+Nugent. To his union with her there was an obstacle which his prudence
+told him ought to be insurmountable; yet he felt that, during the few
+days he had been with her, the few hours he had been near her, he
+had, with his utmost power over himself, scarcely been master of his
+passion, or capable of concealing its object. It could not have been
+done but for her perfect simplicity and innocence. But how could this
+be supported on his part? How could he venture to live with this
+charming girl? How could he settle at home? What resource?
+
+His mind turned towards the army: he thought that abroad, and in
+active life, he should lose all the painful recollections, and drive
+from his heart all the sentiments, which could now be only a source of
+unavailing regret. But his mother--his mother, who had now yielded her
+own taste to his entreaties, for the good of her family--she expected
+him to return and live with her in Ireland. Though not actually
+promised or specified, he knew that she took it for granted; that it
+was upon this hope, this faith, she consented: he knew that she would
+be shocked at the bare idea of his going into the army. There was one
+chance--our hero tried, at this moment, to think it the best possible
+chance--that Miss Nugent might marry Mr. Salisbury, and settle in
+England. On this idea he relied, as the only means of extricating him
+from difficulties.
+
+It was necessary to turn his thoughts immediately to business, to
+execute his promises to his father. Two great objects were now to be
+accomplished--the payment of his father's debts, and the settlement
+of the Irish agent's accounts; and, in transacting this complicated
+business, he derived considerable assistance from Sir Terence O'Fay,
+and from Sir Arthur Berryl's solicitor, Mr. Edwards. Whilst acting for
+Sir Arthur, on a former occasion, Lord Colambre had gained the entire
+confidence of this solicitor, who was a man of the first eminence. Mr.
+Edwards took the papers and Lord Clonbrony's title-deeds home with
+him, saying that he would give an answer the next morning. He then
+waited upon Lord Colambre, and informed him that he had just received
+a letter from Sir Arthur Berryl, who, with the consent and desire of
+his lady, requested that whatever money might be required by Lord
+Clonbrony should be immediately supplied on their account, without
+waiting till Lord Colambre should be of age, as the ready money might
+be of some convenience to him in accelerating the journey to Ireland,
+which Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl knew was his lordship's object. Sir
+Terence O'Fay now supplied Mr. Edwards with accurate information as to
+the demands that were made upon Lord Clonbrony, and of the respective
+characters of the creditors. Mr. Edwards undertook to settle with
+the fair claimants; Sir Terence with the rogues: so that by the
+advancement of ready money from _the Berryls_, and by the detection
+of false and exaggerated charges which Sir Terence made among the
+inferior class, the debts were reduced nearly to one-half of their
+former amount. Mordicai, who had been foiled in his vile attempt
+to become sole creditor, had, however, a demand of more than seven
+thousand pounds upon Lord Clonbrony, which he had raised to this
+enormous sum in six or seven years, by means well known to himself. He
+stood the foremost in the list: not from the greatness of the sum; but
+from the danger of his adding to it the expenses of law. Sir Terence
+undertook to pay the whole with five thousand pounds. Lord Clonbrony
+thought it impossible: the solicitor thought it improvident, because
+he knew that upon a trial a much greater abatement would be allowed;
+but Lord Colambre was determined, from the present embarrassments of
+his own situation, to leave nothing undone that could be accomplished
+immediately.
+
+Sir Terence, pleased with his commission, immediately went to
+Mordicai.
+
+"Well, Sir Terence," said Mordicai, "I hope you are come to pay me my
+hundred guineas; for Miss Broadhurst is married!"
+
+"Well, Mister Mordicai, what then? The ides of March are come, but
+not gone! Stay, if you plase, Mister Mordicai, till Lady-day, when it
+becomes due: in the mean time, I have a handful, or rather an armful,
+of bank-notes for you, from my Lord Colambre."
+
+"Humph." said Mordicai: "how's that? he'll not be of age these three
+days."
+
+"Don't matter for that: he has sent me to look over your accounts, and
+to hope that you will make some small ABATEMENT in the total."
+
+"Harkee, Sir Terence--you think yourself very clever in things of this
+sort, but you've mistaken your man: I have an execution for the whole,
+and I'll be d----d if all your cunning shall MAKE me take up with
+part!"
+
+"Be _aisy_, Mister Mordicai!--you sha'n't make me break your bones,
+nor make me drop one actionable word against your high character; for
+I know your clerk there, with that long goose-quill behind his ear,
+would be ready evidence again' me. But I beg to know, in one word,
+whether you will take five thousand down, and GIVE Lord Clonbrony a
+discharge?"
+
+"No, Mr. Terence! nor six thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine
+pounds. My demand is seven thousand one hundred and thirty pounds,
+odd shillings: if you have that money, pay it; if not, I know how to
+get it, and along with it complete revenge for all the insults I have
+received from that greenhorn, his son."
+
+"Paddy Brady!" cried Sir Terence, "do you hear that? Remember that
+word _revenge_!--Mind I call you to witness!"
+
+"What, sir, will you raise a rebellion among my workmen?"
+
+"No, Mr. Mordicai, no rebellion; and I hope you won't cut the boy's
+ears off for listening to a little of the brogue--so listen, my good
+lad. Now, Mr. Mordicai, I offer you here, before little goosequill,
+5000_l._ ready penny--take it, or leave it: take your money, and leave
+your revenge; or take your revenge, and lose your money."
+
+"Sir Terence, I value neither your threats nor your cunning. Good
+morning to you."
+
+"Good morning to you, Mr. Mordicai--but not kindly! Mr. Edwards, the
+solicitor, has been at the office to take off the execution: so now
+you may have law to your heart's content! And it was only to plase the
+young lord that the _ould_ one consented to my carrying this bundle to
+you," showing the bank-notes.
+
+"Mr. Edwards employed!" cried Mordicai. "Why, how the devil did Lord
+Clonbrony get into such hands as his? The execution taken off! Well,
+sir, go to law--I am ready for you. Jack Latitat IS A MATCH for your
+sober solicitor."
+
+"Good morning again to you, Mr. Mordicai: we're fairly out of your
+clutches, and we have enough to do with our money."
+
+"Well, Sir Terence, I must allow you have a very wheedling way--Here,
+Mr. Thompson, make out a receipt for Lord Clonbrony: I never go to law
+with an old customer, if I can help it."
+
+This business settled, Mr. Soho was next to be dealt with.
+
+He came at Lady Clonbrony's summons; and was taking directions with
+the utmost _sang froid_, for packing up and sending off the very
+furniture for which he was not paid.
+
+Lord Colambre called him into his father's study; and, producing his
+bill, he began to point out various articles which were charged at
+prices that were obviously extravagant.
+
+"Why, really, my lord, they are _abundantly_ extravagant: if I charged
+vulgar prices, I should be only a vulgar tradesman. I, however, am not
+a broker, nor a Jew. Of the article superintendence, which is only
+500_l._, I cannot abate a doit: on the rest of the bill, if you mean
+to offer _ready_, I mean, without any negotiation, to abate thirty per
+cent., and I hope that is a fair and gentlemanly offer."
+
+"Mr. Soho, there is your money!"
+
+"My Lord Colambre! I would give the contents of three such bills to be
+sure of such noblemanly conduct as yours. Lady Clonbrony's furniture
+shall be safely packed, without costing her a farthing."
+
+With the help of Mr. Edwards, the solicitor, every other claim was
+soon settled; and Lord Clonbrony, for the first time since he left
+Ireland, found himself out of debt, and out of danger.
+
+Old Nick's account could not be settled in London. Lord Colambre had
+detected numerous false charges, and sundry impositions: the land,
+which had been purposely let to run wild, so far from yielding any
+rent, was made a source of constant expense, as remaining still unset:
+this was a large tract, for which St. Dennis had at length offered a
+small rent.
+
+Upon a fair calculation of the profits of the ground, and from other
+items in the account, Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., appeared at last
+to be, not the creditor, but the debtor to Lord Clonbrony. He was
+dismissed with disgrace; which perhaps he might not have felt, if
+it had not been accompanied by pecuniary loss, and followed by the
+fear of losing his other agencies, and by the dread of immediate
+bankruptcy.
+
+Mr. Burke was appointed agent in his stead to the Clonbrony as well
+as the Colambre estate. His appointment was announced to him by the
+following letter:--
+
+    "TO MRS. BURKE, AT COLAMBRE.
+
+    "DEAR MADAM,
+
+    "The traveller whom you so hospitably received some months ago
+    was Lord Colambre; he now writes to you in his proper person. He
+    promised you that he would, as far as it might be in his power, do
+    justice to Mr. Burke's conduct and character, by representing what
+    he had done for Lord Clonbrony in the town of Colambre, and in the
+    whole management of the tenantry and property under his care.
+
+    "Happily for my father, my dear madam, he is now as fully
+    convinced as you could wish him to be of Mr. Burke's merits; and
+    he begs me to express his sense of the obligations he is under to
+    him and to you. He entreats that you will pardon the impropriety
+    of a letter, which, as I assured you the moment I saw it, he never
+    wrote or read.
+
+    "He hopes that you will forget that such a letter was ever
+    received, and that you will use your influence with Mr. Burke
+    to induce him to continue to our family his regard and valuable
+    services. Lord Clonbrony encloses a power of attorney, enabling
+    Mr. Burke to act in future for him, if Mr. Burke will do him that
+    favour, in managing the Clonbrony as well as the Colambre estate.
+
+    "Lord Clonbrony will be in Ireland in the course of next month,
+    and intends to have the pleasure of soon paying his respects in
+    person to Mr. Burke, at Colambre.
+
+    "I am, dear madam,
+
+    "Your obliged guest,
+
+    "And faithful servant,
+
+    "COLAMBRE.
+
+    "_Grosvenor-square, London_."
+
+Lord Colambre was so continually occupied with business, during the
+days previous to his coming of age, every morning at his solicitor's
+chambers, every evening in his father's study, that Miss Nugent never
+saw him but at breakfast or dinner; and, though she watched for it
+most anxiously, never could find an opportunity of speaking to him
+alone, or of asking an explanation of the change and inconsistencies
+of his manner. At last, she began to think, that, in the midst of so
+much business of importance, by which he seemed harassed, she should
+do wrong to torment him, by speaking of any small uneasiness that
+concerned only herself. She determined to suppress her doubts, to
+keep her feelings to herself, and endeavour, by constant kindness, to
+regain that place in his affections, which she imagined that she had
+lost. "Every thing will go right again," thought she, "and we shall
+all be happy, when he returns with us to Ireland--to that dear home
+which he loves as well as I do!"
+
+The day Lord Colambre was of age, the first thing he did was, to sign
+a bond for five thousand pounds, Miss Nugent's fortune, which had been
+lent to his father, who was her guardian.
+
+"This, sir, I believe," said he, giving it to his father as soon as
+signed, "this, I believe, is the first debt you would wish to have
+secured."
+
+"Well thought of, my dear boy!--God bless you!--that has weighed more
+upon my conscience and heart than all the rest, though I never said
+any thing about it. I used, whenever I met Mr. Salisbury, to wish
+myself fairly down at the centre of the earth: not that he ever
+thought of fortune, I'm sure; for he often told me, and I believed
+him, he would rather have Miss Nugent without a penny, if he could get
+her, than the first fortune in the empire. But I'm glad she will not
+go to him pennyless, for all that; and by my fault, especially. There,
+there's my name to it--do witness it, Terry. But, Colambre, you must
+give it to her--you must take it to Grace."
+
+"Excuse me, sir; it is no gift of mine--it is a debt of yours. I beg
+you will take the bond to her yourself, my dear father."
+
+"My dear son, you must not always have your own way, and hide every
+thing good you do, or give me the honour of it--I won't be the jay in
+borrowed feathers. I have borrowed enough in my life, and I've done
+with borrowing now, thanks to you, Colambre--so come along with me;
+for I'll be hanged if ever I give this joint bond to Miss Nugent,
+unless you are with me. Leave Lady Clonbrony here to sign these
+papers. Terry will witness them properly, and do you come along with
+me."
+
+"And pray, my lord," said her ladyship, "order the carriage to the
+door; for, as soon as you have my signature, I hope you'll let me off
+to Buxton."
+
+"Oh, certainly--the carriage is ordered--every thing ready, my dear."
+
+"And pray tell Grace to be ready," added Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"That's not necessary; for she is always ready," said Lord Clonbrony.
+"Come, Colambre," added he, taking his son under the arm, and carrying
+him up to Miss Nugent's dressing-room.
+
+They knocked, and were admitted.
+
+"Ready!" said Lord Clonbrony; "ay, always ready--so I said. Here's
+Colambre, my darling," continued he, "has secured your fortune to you
+to my heart's content; but he would not condescend to come up to tell
+you so, till I made him. Here's the bond; and now, all I have to ask
+of you, Colambre, is, to persuade her to marry out of hand, that I
+may see her happy before I die. Now my heart's at ease; I can meet
+Mr. Salisbury with a safe conscience. One kiss, my little Grace. If
+any body can persuade you, I'm sure it's that man that's now leaning
+against the mantel-piece. It's Colambre will, or your heart's not made
+like mine--so I leave you."
+
+And out of the room walked he, leaving his poor son in as awkward,
+embarrassing, and painful a situation as could well be conceived. Half
+a dozen indistinct ideas crossed his mind; quick conflicting feelings
+made his heart beat and stop. And how it would have ended, if he had
+been left to himself; whether he would have stood or fallen, have
+spoken or have continued silent, can never now be known, for all was
+decided without the action of his will. He was awakened from his
+trance by these simple words from Miss Nugent: "I'm much obliged
+to you, cousin Colambre--more obliged to you for your kindness in
+thinking of me first, in the midst of all your other business, than by
+your securing my fortune. Friendship--and your friendship--is worth
+more to me than fortune. May I believe that is secured?"
+
+"Believe it! Oh, Grace, can you doubt it?"
+
+"I will not; it would make me too unhappy, I will not."
+
+"You need not."
+
+"That is enough--I am satisfied--I ask no farther explanation. You are
+truth itself--one word from you is security sufficient. We are friends
+for life," said she; "are not we?"
+
+"We are--and therefore sit down, cousin Grace, and let me claim the
+privilege of friendship, and speak to you of him who aspires to be
+more than your friend for life, Mr.--"
+
+"Mr. Salisbury!" said Miss Nugent; "I saw him yesterday. We had a very
+long conversation; I believe he understands my sentiments perfectly,
+and that he no longer thinks of being more to me than a friend for
+life."
+
+"You have refused him!"
+
+"Yes. I have a high opinion of Mr. Salisbury's understanding, a great
+esteem for his character; I like his manners and conversation; but I
+do not love him, and, therefore, you know, I could not marry him."
+
+"But, my dear Miss Nugent, with a high opinion, a great esteem, and
+liking his manners and conversation, in such a well-regulated mind as
+yours, can there be a better foundation for love?"
+
+"It is an excellent foundation," said she; "but I never went any
+farther than the foundation; and, indeed, I never wished to proceed
+any farther."
+
+Lord Colambre scarcely dared to ask why; but after some pause he said,
+"I don't wish to intrude upon your confidence."
+
+"You cannot intrude upon my confidence; I am ready to give it to
+you entirely, frankly; I hesitated only because another person was
+concerned. Do you remember, at my aunt's gala, a lady who danced with
+Mr. Salisbury?"
+
+"Not in the least."
+
+"A lady with whom you and Mr. Salisbury were talking, just before
+supper, in the Turkish tent."
+
+"Not in the least."
+
+"As we went down to supper, you told me you had had a delightful
+conversation with her; that you thought her a charming woman."
+
+"A charming woman!--I have not the slightest recollection of her."
+
+"And you told me that she and Mr. Salisbury had been praising me _a
+l'envie l'une de l'autre_."
+
+"Oh, I recollect her now perfectly," said Lord Colambre: "but what of
+her?"
+
+"She is the woman who, I hope, will be Mrs. Salisbury. Ever since I
+have been acquainted with them both, I have seen that they were suited
+to each other; I fancy, indeed I am almost sure, that she could
+love him, tenderly love him--and, I know, I could not. But my own
+sentiments, you may be sure, are all I ever told Mr. Salisbury."
+
+"But of your own sentiments you may not be sure," said Lord
+Colambre; "and I see no reason why you should give him up from false
+generosity."
+
+"Generosity!" interrupted Miss Nugent; "you totally misunderstand
+me; there is no generosity, nothing for me to give up in the case. I
+did not refuse Mr. Salisbury from generosity, but because I did not
+love him. Perhaps my seeing early what I have just mentioned to you
+prevented me from thinking of him as a lover; but, from whatever
+cause, I certainly never felt love for Mr. Salisbury, nor any of that
+pity which is said to lead to love: perhaps," added she, smiling,
+"because I was aware that he would be so much better off after I
+refused him--so much happier with one suited to him in age, talents,
+fortune, and love--'What bliss, did he but know his bliss,' were
+_his_.'"
+
+"Did he but know his bliss!" repeated Lord Colambre; "but is not he
+the best judge of his own bliss?"
+
+"And am not I the best judge of mine?" said Miss Nugent: "I go no
+farther."
+
+"You are; and I have no right to go farther. Yet, this much permit me
+to say, my dear Grace, that it would give me sincere pleasure, that
+is, real satisfaction, to see you happily--established."
+
+"Thank you, my dear Lord Colambre; but you spoke that like a man of
+seventy at least, with the most solemn gravity of demeanour."
+
+"I meant to be serious, not solemn," said Lord Colambre, endeavouring
+to change his tone.
+
+"There now," said she, in a playful tone, "you have _seriously_
+accomplished the task my good uncle set you; so I will report well of
+you to him, and certify that you did all that in you lay to exhort me
+to marry; that you have even assured me that it would give you sincere
+pleasure, that is, real satisfaction, to see me happily established."
+
+"Oh, Grace, if you knew how much I felt when I said that, you would
+spare this raillery."
+
+"I will be serious--I am most seriously convinced of the sincerity of
+your affection for me; I know my happiness is your object in all you
+have said, and I thank you from my heart for the interest you take
+about me. But really and truly I do not wish to marry. This is not a
+mere commonplace speech; but I have not yet seen any man I could love.
+I am happy as I am, especially now we are all going to dear Ireland,
+home, to live together: you cannot conceive with what pleasure I look
+forward to that."
+
+Lord Colambre was not vain; but love quickly sees love, or foresees
+the probability, the possibility, of its existence. He saw that Miss
+Nugent might love him tenderly, passionately; but that duty, habit,
+the prepossession that it was impossible she could marry her cousin
+Colambre,--a prepossession instilled into her by his mother--had
+absolutely prevented her from ever yet thinking of him as a lover. He
+saw the hazard for her, he felt the danger for himself. Never had she
+appeared to him so attractive as at this moment, when he felt the hope
+that he could obtain return of love.
+
+"But St. Omar!--Why! why is she a St. Omar?--illegitimate!--'No St.
+Omar _sans reproche_.' My wife she cannot be--I will not engage her
+affections."
+
+Swift as thoughts in moments of strong feeling pass in the mind
+without being put into words, our hero thought all this, and
+determined, cost what it would, to act honourably.
+
+"You spoke of my returning to Ireland, my dear Grace. I have not yet
+told you my plans."
+
+"Plans! are not you returning with us?" said she, precipitately; "are
+not you going to Ireland--home--with us?"
+
+"No:--I am going to serve a campaign or two abroad. I think every
+young man in these times--
+
+"Good Heavens! What does this mean? What can you mean?" cried she,
+fixing her eyes upon his, as if she would read his very soul. "Why?
+what reason?--Oh, tell me the truth--and at once."
+
+His change of colour--his hand that trembled, and withdrew from
+hers--the expression of his eyes as they met hers--revealed the truth
+to her at once. As it flashed across her mind, she started back; her
+face grew crimson, and, in the same instant, pale as death.
+
+"Yes--you see, you feel the truth now," said Lord Colambre. "You see,
+you feel, that I love you--passionately."
+
+"Oh, let me not hear it!" said she; "I must not--ought not. Never
+till this moment did such a thought cross my mind--I thought it
+impossible--Oh, make me think so still."
+
+"I will--it _is_ impossible that we can ever he united."
+
+"I always thought so," said she, taking breath with a deep sigh.
+"Then, why not live as we have lived?"
+
+"I cannot--I cannot answer for myself--I will not run the risk;
+and therefore I must quit you, knowing, as I do, that there is an
+invincible obstacle to our union; of what nature I cannot explain; I
+beg you not to inquire."
+
+"You need not beg it--I shall not inquire--I have no curiosity--none,"
+said she in a passive, dejected tone; "that is not what I am thinking
+of in the least. I know there are invincible obstacles; I wish it to
+be so. But, if invincible, you who have so much sense, honour, and
+virtue--"
+
+"I hope, my dear cousin, that I have honour and virtue. But there
+are temptations to which no wise, no good man will expose himself.
+Innocent creature! you do not know the power of love. I rejoice that
+you have always thought it impossible--think so still--it will save
+you from--all I must endure. Think of me but as your cousin, your
+friend--give your heart to some happier man. As your friend, your true
+friend, I conjure you, give your heart to some more fortunate man.
+Marry, if you can feel love--marry, and be happy. Honour! virtue!
+Yes, I have both, and I will not forfeit them. Yes, I will merit your
+esteem and my own--by actions, not words; and I give you the strongest
+proof, by tearing myself from you at this moment. Farewell!"
+
+"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent, and my lady calling for you,"
+said her maid. "Here's your key, ma'am, and here's your gloves, my
+dear ma'am."
+
+"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent," said Lady Clonbrony's woman,
+coming eagerly with parcels in her hand, as Miss Nugent passed
+her, and ran down stairs; "and I don't know where I laid my lady's
+_numbrella_, for my life--do you, Anne?"
+
+"No, indeed--but I know here's my own young lady's watch that she has
+left. Bless me! I never knew her to forget any thing on a journey
+before."
+
+"Then she is going to be married, as sure as my name's Le Maistre, and
+to my Lord Colambre; for he has been here this hour, to my certain
+Bible knowledge. Oh, you'll see she will be Lady Colambre."
+
+"I wish she may, with all my heart," said Anne; "but I must run
+down--they're waiting."
+
+"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Le Maistre, seizing Anne's arm, and holding her
+fast; "stay--you may safely--for they're all kissing and taking
+leave, and all that, you know; and _my_ lady is talking on about
+Mr. Soho, and giving a hundred directions about legs of tables, and
+so forth, I warrant--she's always an hour after she's ready before
+she gets in--and I'm looking for the _numbrella_. So stay, and
+tell me--Mrs. Petito wrote over word it was to be Lady Isabel; and
+then a contradiction came--it was turned into the youngest of the
+Killpatricks; and now here he's in Miss Nugent's dressing-room to the
+last moment. Now, in my opinion, that am not censorious, this does not
+look so pretty; but, according to my verdict, he is only making a fool
+of Miss Nugent, like the rest; and his lordship seems too like what
+you might call a male _cocket_, or a masculine jilt."
+
+"No more like a masculine jilt than yourself, Mrs. Le Maistre," cried
+Anne, taking fire. "And my young lady is not a lady to be made a fool
+of, I promise you; nor is my lord likely to make a fool of any woman."
+
+"Bless us all! that's no great praise for any young nobleman, Miss
+Anne."
+
+"Mrs. Le Maistre! Mrs. Le Maistre! are you above?" cried a footman
+from the bottom of the stairs: "my lady's calling for you."
+
+"Very well! Very well!" said sharp Mrs. Le Maistre; "Very well! and
+if she is--manners, sir!--Come up for one, can't you, and don't stand
+bawling at the bottom of the stairs, as if one had no ears to be
+saved. I'm coming as fast as I can--conveniently can."
+
+Mrs. Le Maistre stood in the door-way, so as to fill it up, and
+prevent Anne from passing.
+
+"Miss Anne! Miss Anne! Mrs. Le Maistre!" cried another footman; "my
+lady's in the carriage, and Miss Nugent."
+
+"Miss Nugent!--is she?" cried Mrs. Le Maistre, running down stairs,
+followed by Anne. "Now, for the world in pocket-pieces wouldn't I have
+missed seeing him hand Miss Nugent in; for by that I could have judged
+definitively."
+
+"My lord, I beg pardon!--I'm _afeard_ I'm late," said Mrs. Le Maistre,
+as she passed Lord Colambre, who was standing motionless in the hall.
+"I beg a thousand pardons; but I was hunting, high and low, for my
+lady's _numbrella_." Lord Colambre did not hear or heed her: his eyes
+were fixed, and they never moved.
+
+Lord Clonbrony was at the open carriage-door, kneeling on the step,
+and receiving Lady Clonbrony's "more last words" for Mr. Soho. The two
+waiting-maids stood together on the steps.
+
+"Look at our young lord, how he stands," whispered Mrs. Le Maistre to
+Anne, "the image of despair! And she, the picture of death!--I don't
+know what to think."
+
+"Nor I: but don't stare, if you can help it," said Anne. "Get in, get
+in, Mrs. Le Maistre," added she, as Lord Clonbrony now rose from the
+step, and made way for them.
+
+"Ay, in with you--in with you, Mrs. Le Maistre," said Lord Clonbrony.
+"Good bye to you, Anne, and take care of your young mistress at
+Buxton: let me see her blooming when we meet again; I don't half like
+her looks, and I never thought Buxton agreed with her."
+
+"Buxton never did any body harm," said Lady Clonbrony: "and as
+to bloom, I'm sure, if Grace has not bloom enough in her cheeks
+this moment to please you, I don't know what you'd have, my dear
+lord--Rouge?--Shut the door, John! Oh, stay!--Colambre!--Where upon
+earth's Colambre?" cried her ladyship, stretching from the farthest
+side of the coach to the window.--"Colambre!"
+
+Colambre was forced to appear.
+
+"Colambre, my dear! I forgot to say, that, if any thing detains you
+longer than Wednesday se'nnight, I beg you will not fail to write, or
+I shall be miserable."
+
+"I will write: at all events, my dearest mother, you shall hear from
+me."
+
+"Then I shall be quite happy. Go on!"
+
+The carriage drove on.
+
+"I do believe Colambre's ill: I never saw a man look so ill in my
+life--did you, Grace?--as he did the minute we drove on. He should
+take advice. I've a mind," cried Lady Clonbrony, laying her hand on
+the cord, to stop the coachman, "I've a mind to turn about--tell him
+so--and ask what is the matter with him."
+
+"Better not!" said Miss Nugent: "he will write to you, and tell
+you--if any thing is the matter with him. Better go on now to Buxton!"
+continued she, scarcely able to speak. Lady Clonbrony let go the cord.
+
+"But what is the matter with you, my dear Grace? for you are certainly
+going to die too!"
+
+"I will tell you--as soon as I can; but don't ask me now, my dear
+aunt!"
+
+"Grace, Grace! pull the cord!" cried Lady Clonbrony--"Mr. Salisbury's
+phaeton!--Mr. Salisbury, I'm happy to see you! We're on our way to
+Buxton--as I told you."
+
+"So am I," said Mr. Salisbury. "I hope to be there before your
+ladyship: will you honour me with any commands?--of course, I will see
+that every thing is ready for your reception."
+
+Her ladyship had not any commands. Mr. Salisbury drove on rapidly.
+
+Lady Clonbrony's ideas had now taken the Salisbury channel. "You
+didn't know that Mr. Salisbury was going to Buxton to meet you, did
+you, Grace?" said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"No, indeed, I did not!" said Miss Nugent; "and I am very sorry for
+it."
+
+"Young ladies, as Mrs. Broadhurst says, 'never know, or at least never
+tell, what they are sorry or glad for,'" replied Lady Clonbrony. "At
+all events, Grace, my love, it has brought the fine bloom back to your
+cheeks; and I own I am satisfied."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+"Gone! for ever gone from me!" said Lord Colambre to himself, as the
+carriage drove away. "Never shall I see her more--never _will_ I see
+her more, till she is married."
+
+Lord Colambre went to his own room, locked the door, and was relieved
+in some degree by the sense of privacy; by the feeling that he could
+now indulge his reflections undisturbed. He had consolation--he had
+done what was honourable--he had transgressed no duty, abandoned no
+principle--he had not injured the happiness of any human being--he
+had not, to gratify himself, hazarded the peace of the woman he
+loved--he had not sought to win her heart. Of her innocent, her warm,
+susceptible heart, he might, perhaps, have robbed her--he knew it--but
+he had left it untouched, he hoped entire, in her own power, to bless
+with it hereafter some man worthy of her. In the hope that she might
+be happy, Lord Colambre felt relief; and in the consciousness that
+he had made his parents happy, he rejoiced; but, as soon as his mind
+turned that way for consolation, came the bitter reflection, that his
+mother must be disappointed in her hopes of his accompanying her home,
+and of his living with her in Ireland: she would be miserable when she
+should hear that he was going abroad into the army--and yet it must be
+so--and he must write, and tell her so. "The sooner this difficulty is
+off my mind, the sooner this painful letter is written, the better,"
+thought he. "It must be done--I will do it immediately."
+
+He snatched up his pen, and began a letter.
+
+"My dear mother, Miss Nugent--" He was interrupted by a knock at his
+door.
+
+"A gentleman below, my lord." said a servant, "who wishes to see you."
+
+"I cannot see any gentleman. Did you say I was at home?"
+
+"No, my lord, I said you was not at home; for I thought you would not
+choose to be at home, and your own man was not in the way for me to
+ask--so I denied you: but the gentleman would not be denied; he said
+I must come and see if you was at home. So, as he spoke as if he was
+a gentleman not used to be denied, I thought it might be somebody of
+consequence, and I showed him into the front drawing-room. I think he
+said he was sure you'd be at home for a friend from Ireland."
+
+"A friend from Ireland! Why did not you tell me that sooner?" said
+Lord Colambre, rising, and running down stairs. "Sir James Brooke, I
+dare say."
+
+No, not Sir James Brooke; but one he was almost as glad to see--Count
+O'Halloran!
+
+"My dear count! the greater pleasure for being unexpected."
+
+"I came to London but yesterday," said the count; "but I could not be
+here a day, without doing myself the honour of paying my respects to
+Lord Colambre."
+
+"You do me not only honour, but pleasure, my dear count. People, when
+they like one another, always find each other out, and contrive to
+meet, even in London."
+
+"You are too polite to ask what brought such a superannuated militaire
+as I am," said the count, "from his retirement into this gay world
+again. A relation of mine, who is one of the ministry, knew that I had
+some maps, and plans, and charts, which might be serviceable in an
+expedition they are planning. I might have trusted my charts across
+the channel, without coming myself to convoy them, you will say. But
+my relation fancied--young relations, you know, if they are good for
+any thing, are apt to overvalue the heads of old relations--fancied
+that mine was worth bringing all the way from Halloran Castle to
+London, to consult with _tete-a-tete_. So, you know, when this was
+signified to me by a letter from the secretary in office, _private,
+most confidential_, what could I do, but do myself the honour to
+obey? For though honour's voice cannot provoke the silent dust, yet
+'flattery soothes the dull cold ear of _age_.'--But enough and too
+much of myself," said the count: "tell me, my dear lord, something of
+yourself. I do not think England seems to agree with you so well as
+Ireland; for, excuse me, in point of health, you don't look like the
+same man I saw some weeks ago."
+
+"My mind has been ill at ease of late," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Ay, there's the thing! The body pays for the mind--but those who
+have feeling minds, pain and pleasure altogether computed, have the
+advantage; or at least they think so; for they would not change with
+those who have them not, were they to gain by the bargain the most
+robust body that the most selfish coxcomb, or the heaviest dunce
+extant, ever boasted. For instance, would you now, my lord, at this
+moment, change altogether with Major Benson, or Captain Williamson, or
+even with our friend, 'Eh, really now, 'pon honour'--would you?--I'm
+glad to see you smile."
+
+"I thank you for making me smile, for I assure you I want it. I
+wish--if you would not think me encroaching upon your politeness in
+honouring me with this visit--You see," continued he, opening the
+doors of the back drawing-room, and pointing to large packages, "you
+see we are all preparing for a march: my mother has left town half an
+hour ago--my father engaged to dine abroad--only I at home--and, in
+this state of confusion, could I even venture to ask Count O'Halloran
+to stay and dine with me, without being able to offer him Irish
+ortolans or Irish plums--in short, will you let me rob you of two
+or three hours of your time? I am anxious to have your opinion on a
+subject of some importance to me, and on one where you are peculiarly
+qualified to judge and decide for me."
+
+"My dear lord, frankly, I have nothing half so good or so agreeable to
+do with my time; command my hours. I have already told you how much it
+flatters me to be consulted by the most helpless clerk in office; how
+much more about the private concerns of an enlightened young-friend,
+will Lord Colambre permit me to say? I hope so; for, though the
+length of our acquaintance might not justify the word, yet regard and
+intimacy are not always in proportion to the time people have known
+each other, but to their mutual perception of certain attaching
+qualities, a certain similarity and suitableness of character."
+
+The good count, seeing that Lord Colambre was in much distress of
+mind, did all he could to soothe him by kindness: far from making any
+difficulty about giving up a few hours of his time, he seemed to have
+no other object in London, and no purpose in life, but to attend to
+our hero. To put him at ease, and to give him time to recover and
+arrange his thoughts, the count talked of indifferent subjects.
+
+"I think I heard you mention the name of Sir James Brooke."
+
+"Yes, I expected to have seen him when the servant first mentioned a
+friend from Ireland; because Sir James had told me that, as soon as he
+could get leave of absence, he would come to England."
+
+"He is come; is now at his estate in Huntingdonshire; doing, what
+do you think? I will give you a leading hint; recollect the seal
+which the little De Cressy put into your hands the day you dined
+at Oranmore. Faithful to his motto, 'Deeds, not words,' he is this
+instant, I believe, at deeds, title deeds; making out marriage
+settlements, getting ready to put his seal to the happy articles."
+
+"Happy man! I give him joy," said Lord Colambre: "happy man! going to
+be married to such a woman--daughter of such a mother."
+
+"Daughter of such a mother! That is indeed a great addition and a
+great security to his happiness," said the count. "Such a family
+to marry into; good from generation to generation; illustrious by
+character as well as by genealogy; 'all the sons brave, and all the
+daughters chaste.'"
+
+Lord Colambre with difficulty repressed his feelings. "If I could
+choose," said the count, "I would rather that a woman I loved were of
+such a family than that she had for her dower the mines of Peru."
+
+"So would I," cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, and with such energy; so few
+young men of the present day look to what I call good connexion. In
+marrying, a man does not, to be sure, marry his wife's mother; and yet
+a prudent man, when he begins to think of the daughter, would look
+sharp at the mother; ay, and back to the grandmother too, and along
+the whole female line of ancestry."
+
+"True--most true--he ought--he must."
+
+"And I have a notion," said the count, smiling, "your lordship's
+practice has been conformable to your theory."
+
+"I!--mine!" said Lord Colambre, starting, and looking at the count
+with surprise.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said the count; "I did not intend to surprise
+your confidence. But you forget that I was present, and saw the
+impression which was made on your mind by a mother's want of a proper
+sense of delicacy and propriety--Lady Dashfort."
+
+"Oh, Lady Dashfort! she was quite out of my head."
+
+"And Lady Isabel?--I hope she is quite out of your heart."
+
+"She never was in it," said Lord Colambre. "Only laid siege to it,"
+said the count. "Well, I am glad your heart did not surrender at
+discretion, or rather without discretion. Then I may tell you, without
+fear or preface, that the Lady Isabel, who talks of 'refinement,
+delicacy, sense,' is going to stoop at once, and marry--Heathcock."
+Lord Colambre was not surprised, but concerned and disgusted, as
+he always felt, even when he did not care for the individual, from
+hearing any thing which tended to lower the female sex in public
+estimation.
+
+"As to myself," said he, "I cannot say I have had an escape, for I
+don't think I ever was in much danger."
+
+"It is difficult to measure danger when it is over--past danger, like
+past pain, is soon forgotten," said the old general. "At all events, I
+rejoice in your present safety."
+
+"But is she really going to be married to Heathcock?" said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"Positively: they all came over in the same packet with me, and
+they are all in town now, buying jewels, and equipages, and horses.
+Heathcock, you know, is as good as another man for all those
+purposes: his father is dead, and has left him a large estate. _Que
+voulez-vous?_ as the French valet said to me on the occasion, _c'est
+que monsieur est un homme de bien: il a des biens, a ce qu'on dit._"
+
+Lord Colambre could not help smiling.
+
+"How they got Heathcock to fall in love is what puzzles me," said his
+lordship. "I should as soon have thought of an oyster's falling in
+love as that being."
+
+"I own I should have sooner thought," replied the count, "of his
+falling in love with an oyster; and so would you, if you had seen him,
+as I did, devouring oysters on shipboard.
+
+ "'Say, can the lovely _heroine_ hope to vie
+   With a fat turtle or a ven'son pie?'
+
+"But that is not our affair; let the Lady Isabel look to it."
+
+Dinner was announced; and no farther conversation of any consequence
+passed between the count and Lord Colambre till the cloth was removed
+and the servants had withdrawn. Then our hero opened on the subject
+which was heavy at his heart.
+
+"My dear count--I have a mind to serve a campaign or two, if I could
+get a commission in a regiment going to Spain; but I understand so
+many are eager to go at this moment, that it is very difficult to get
+a commission in such a regiment."
+
+"It is difficult," said the count. "But," added he, after thinking for
+a moment, "I have it! I can get the thing done for you, and directly.
+Major Benson, who is in danger of being broke, in consequence of that
+affair, you know, about his mistress, wants to sell out; and that
+regiment is to be ordered immediately to Spain: I will have the thing
+done for you, if you request it."
+
+"First, give me your advice, Count O'Halloran: you are well acquainted
+with the military profession, with military life. Would you advise
+me--I won't speak of myself, because we judge better by general views
+than by particular cases--would you advise a young man at present to
+go into the army?"
+
+The count was silent for a few minutes, and then replied: "Since
+you seriously ask my opinion, my lord, I must lay aside my own
+prepossessions, and endeavour to speak with impartiality. To go into
+the army in these days, my lord, is, in my sober opinion, the most
+absurd and base, or the wisest and noblest thing a young man can do.
+To enter into the army, with the hope of escaping from the application
+necessary to acquire knowledge, letters, and science--I run no risk,
+my lord, in saying this to you--to go into the army, with the hope of
+escaping from knowledge, letters, science, and morality; to wear a red
+coat and an epaulette; to be called captain; to figure at a ball; to
+lounge away time in country sports, at country quarters, was never,
+even in times of peace, creditable; but it is now absurd and base.
+Submitting to a certain portion of ennui and contempt, this mode
+of life for an officer was formerly practicable--but now cannot be
+submitted to without utter, irremediable disgrace. Officers are now,
+in general, men of education and information; want of knowledge,
+sense, manners, must consequently be immediately detected, ridiculed,
+and despised, in a military man. Of this we have not long since seen
+lamentable examples in the raw officers who have lately disgraced
+themselves in my neighbourhood in Ireland--that Major Benson and
+Captain Williamson. But I will not advert to such insignificant
+individuals, such are rare exceptions--I leave them out of the
+question--I reason on general principles. The life of an officer
+is not now a life of parade, of coxcombical or of profligate
+idleness--but of active service, of continual hardship and danger. All
+the descriptions which we see in ancient history of a soldier's life,
+descriptions which in times of peace appeared like romance, are now
+realized; military exploits fill every day's newspapers, every day's
+conversation. A martial spirit is now essential to the liberty and
+the existence of our own country. In the present state of things, the
+military must be the most honourable profession, because the most
+useful. Every movement of an army is followed wherever it goes, by
+the public hopes and fears. Every officer must now feel, besides this
+sense of collective importance, a belief that his only dependence
+must be on his own merit--and thus his ambition, his enthusiasm, are
+raised; and, when once this noble ardour is kindled in the breast,
+it excites to exertion, and supports under endurance. But I forget
+myself," said the count, checking his enthusiasm; "I promised to speak
+soberly. If I have said too much, your own good sense, my lord, will
+correct me, and your good nature will forgive the prolixity of an old
+man, touched upon his favourite subject--the passion of his youth."
+
+Lord Colambre, of course, assured the count that he was not tired.
+Indeed, the enthusiasm with which this old officer spoke of his
+profession, and the high point of view in which he placed it,
+increased our hero's desire to serve a campaign abroad. Good sense,
+politeness, and experience of the world preserved Count O'Halloran
+from that foible with which old officers are commonly reproached, of
+talking continually of their own military exploits. Though retired
+from the world, he had contrived, by reading the best books, and
+corresponding with persons of good information, to keep up with the
+current of modern affairs; and he seldom spoke of those in which he
+had been formerly engaged. He rather too studiously avoided speaking
+of himself; and this fear of egotism diminished the peculiar interest
+he might have inspired: it disappointed curiosity, and deprived those
+with whom he conversed of many entertaining and instructive anecdotes.
+However, he sometimes made exceptions to his general rule in favour
+of persons who peculiarly pleased him, and Lord Colambre was of this
+number.
+
+He this evening, for the first time, spoke to his lordship of the
+years he had spent in the Austrian service; told him anecdotes of
+the emperor; spoke of many distinguished public characters whom he
+had known abroad; of those officers who had been his friends and
+companions. Among others he mentioned, with particular regard, a young
+English officer who had been at the same time with him in the Austrian
+service, a gentleman of the name of Reynolds.
+
+The name struck Lord Colambre: it was the name of the officer who had
+been the cause of the disgrace of Miss St. Omar--of--Miss Nugent's
+mother. "But there are so many Reynoldses."
+
+He eagerly asked the age--the character of this officer.
+
+"He was a gallant youth," said the count, "but too adventurous--too
+rash. He fell, after distinguishing himself in a glorious manner, in
+his twentieth year--died in my arms."
+
+"Married or unmarried?" cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"Married--he had been privately married, less than a year before
+his death, to a very young English lady, who had been educated at a
+convent in Vienna. He was heir to a considerable property, I believe,
+and the young lady had little fortune; and the affair was kept secret,
+from the fear of offending his friends, or for some other reason--I do
+not recollect the particulars."
+
+"Did he acknowledge his marriage?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Never, till he was dying--then he confided his secret to me."
+
+"Do you recollect the name of the young lady he married?"
+
+"Yes--a Miss St. Omar."
+
+"St. Omar!" repeated Lord Colambre, with an expression of lively joy
+in his countenance. "But are you certain, my dear count, that she was
+really married, legally married, to Mr. Reynolds? Her marriage has
+been denied by all his friends and relations--hers have never been
+able to establish it--her daughter is--My dear count, were you present
+at the marriage?"
+
+"No," said the count, "I was not present at the marriage; I never
+saw the lady; nor do I know any thing of the affair, except that Mr.
+Reynolds, when he was dying, assured me that he was privately married
+to a Miss St. Omar, who was then boarding at a convent in Vienna. The
+young man expressed great regret at leaving her totally unprovided
+for; but said that he trusted his father would acknowledge her, and
+that her friends would be reconciled to her. He was not of age, he
+said, to make a will; but I think he told me that his child, who at
+that time was not born, would, even if it should be a girl, inherit a
+considerable property. With this I cannot, however, charge my memory
+positively; but he put a packet into my hands which, he told me,
+contained a certificate of his marriage, and, I think he said, a
+letter to his father: this he requested that I would transmit to
+England by some safe hand. Immediately after his death, I went to the
+English ambassador, who was then leaving Vienna, and delivered the
+packet into his hands: he promised to have it safely delivered. I was
+obliged to go the next day, with the troops, to a distant part of the
+country. When I returned, I inquired at the convent what had become of
+Miss St. Omar--I should say Mrs. Reynolds; and I was told that she had
+removed from the convent to private lodgings in the town, some time
+previous to the birth of her child. The abbess seemed much scandalized
+by the whole transaction; and I remember I relieved her mind by
+assuring her that there had been a regular marriage. For poor young
+Reynolds' sake, I made farther inquiries about the widow, intending,
+of course, to act as a friend, if she were in any difficulty or
+distress. But I found, on inquiry at her lodgings, that her brother
+had come from England for her, and had carried her and her infant
+away. The active scenes," continued the count, "in which I was
+immediately afterwards engaged, drove the whole affair from my mind.
+Now that your questions have recalled them, I feel certain of the
+facts I have mentioned; and I am ready to establish them by my
+testimony."
+
+Lord Colambre thanked him with an eagerness that showed how much he
+was interested in the event. It was clear, he said, that either the
+packet left with the ambassador had not been delivered, or that the
+father of Mr. Reynolds had suppressed the certificate of the marriage,
+as it had never been acknowledged by him or by any of the family. Lord
+Colambre now frankly told the count why he was so anxious about this
+affair; and Count O'Halloran, with all the warmth of youth, and with
+all the ardent generosity characteristic of his country, entered
+into his feelings, declaring that he would never rest till he had
+established the truth.
+
+"Unfortunately," said the count, "the ambassador who took the packet
+in charge is dead. I am afraid we shall have difficulty."
+
+"But he must have had some secretary," said Lord Colambre: "who was
+his secretary?--we can apply to him."
+
+"His secretary is now charge d'affaires in Vienna--we cannot get at
+him."
+
+"Into whose hands have that ambassador's papers fallen--who is his
+executor?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"His executor!--now you have it," cried the count. "His executor is
+the very man who will do your business--your friend Sir James Brooke
+is the executor. All papers, of course, are in his hands; or he can
+have access to any that are in the hands of the family. The family
+seat is within a few miles of Sir James Brooke's, in Huntingdonshire,
+where, as I told you before, he now is."
+
+"I'll go to him immediately--set out in the mail this night. Just in
+time!" cried Lord Colambre, pulling out his watch with one hand, and
+ringing the bell with the other.
+
+"Run and take a place for me in the mail for Huntingdon. Go directly,"
+said Lord Colambre to the servant.
+
+"And take two places, if you please, sir," said the count. "My lord, I
+will accompany you."
+
+But this Lord Colambre would not permit, as it would be unnecessary
+to fatigue the good old general; and a letter from him to Sir James
+Brooke would do all that the count could effect by his presence: the
+search for the papers would be made by Sir James, and if the packet
+could be recovered, or if any memorandum or mode of ascertaining that
+it had actually been delivered to old Reynolds could be discovered,
+Lord Colambre said he would then call upon the count for his
+assistance, and trouble him to identify the packet; or to go with him
+to Mr. Reynolds to make farther inquiries; and to certify, at all
+events, the young man's dying acknowledgment of his marriage and of
+his child.
+
+The place in the mail, just in time, was taken. Lord Colambre sent a
+servant in search of his father, with a note, explaining the necessity
+of his sudden departure. All the business which remained to be done in
+town he knew Lord Clonbrony could accomplish without his assistance.
+Then he wrote a few lines to his mother, on the very sheet of paper
+on which, a few hours before, he had sorrowfully and slowly begun,
+
+"_My dear mother--Miss Nugent._"
+
+He now joyfully and rapidly went on,
+
+"My dear mother and Miss Nugent,
+
+"I hope to be with you on Wednesday se'nnight; but if unforeseen
+circumstances should delay me, I will certainly write to you again.
+Dear mother, believe me,
+
+"Your obliged and grateful son,
+
+"Colambre."
+
+The count, in the mean time, wrote a letter for him to Sir James
+Brooke, describing the packet which he had given to the ambassador,
+and relating all the circumstances that could lead to its recovery.
+Lord Colambre, almost before the wax was hard, seized the letter; the
+count seeming almost as eager to hurry him off as he was to set out.
+He thanked the count with few words, but with strong feeling. Joy and
+love returned in full tide upon our hero's soul; all the military
+ideas, which but an hour before filled his imagination, were put to
+flight: Spain vanished, and green Ireland reappeared.
+
+Just as they shook hands at parting, the good old general, with a
+smile, said to him, "I believe I had better not stir in the matter of
+Benson's commission till I hear more from you. My harangue, in favour
+of the military profession, will, I fancy, prove, like most other
+harangues, a waste of words."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+In what words of polite circumlocution, or of cautious diplomacy,
+shall we say, or hint, that the deceased ambassador's papers were
+found in shameful disorder. His excellency's executor, Sir James
+Brooke, however, was indefatigable in his researches. He and Lord
+Colambre spent two whole days in looking over portfolios of letters,
+and memorials, and manifestoes, and bundles of paper of the most
+heterogeneous sorts; some of them without any docket or direction to
+lead to a knowledge of their contents; others written upon in such
+a manner as to give an erroneous notion of their nature; so that it
+was necessary to untie every paper separately. At last, when they had
+opened, as they thought, every paper, and, wearied and in despair,
+were just on the point of giving up the search, Lord Colambre spied a
+bundle of old newspapers at the bottom of a trunk.
+
+"They are only old Vienna Gazettes; I looked at them," said Sir James.
+
+Lord Colambre, upon this assurance, was going to throw them into the
+trunk again; but observing that the bundle had not been untied, he
+opened it, and withinside of the newspapers he found a rough copy of
+the ambassador's journal, and with it the packet directed to Ralph
+Reynolds, sen., Esq., Old Court, Suffolk, per favour of his excellency
+Earl *****--a note on the cover, signed O'Halloran, stating when
+received by him, and, the date of the day when delivered to the
+ambassador--seals unbroken. Our hero was in such a transport of joy
+at the sight of this packet, and his friend Sir James Brooke so full
+of his congratulations, that they forgot to curse the ambassador's
+carelessness, which had been the cause of so much evil.
+
+The next thing to be done was to deliver the packet to Ralph Reynolds,
+Old Court, Suffolk. But when Lord Colambre arrived at Old Court,
+Suffolk, he found all the gates locked, and no admittance to be had.
+At last an old woman came out of the porter's lodge, who said Mr.
+Reynolds was not there, and she could not say where he was. After
+our hero had opened her heart by the present of half a guinea, she
+explained, that she "could not _justly_ say where he was, because that
+he never let any body of his own people know where he was any day;
+he had several different houses and places in different parts, and
+far off counties, and other shires, as she heard, and by times he
+was at one, and by times at another. The names of two of the places,
+Toddrington and Little Wrestham, she knew; but there were others to
+which she could give no direction. He had houses in odd parts of
+London, too, that he let; and sometimes, when the lodgers' time was
+out, he would go, and be never heard of for a month, may be, in one of
+them. In short, there was no telling or saying where he was or would
+be one day of the week, by where he had been the last."
+
+When Lord Colambre expressed some surprise that an old gentleman,
+as he conceived Mr. Ralph Reynolds to be, should change places so
+frequently, the old woman answered, "that though her master was a deal
+on the wrong side of seventy, and though, to look at him, you'd think
+he was glued to his chair, and would fall to pieces if he should stir
+out of it, yet he was as alert, and thought no more of going about,
+than if he was as young as the gentleman who was now speaking to her.
+It was old Mr. Reynolds' delight to come down and surprise his people
+at his different places, and see that they were keeping all tight."
+
+"What sort of a man is he?--Is he a miser?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"He is a miser, and he is not a miser," said the woman. "Now he'd
+think as much of the waste of a penny as another man would of a
+hundred pounds, and yet he would give a hundred pounds easier
+than another would give a penny, when he's in the humour. But his
+humour is very odd, and there's no knowing where to have him; he's
+cross-grained, and more _positiver_-like than a mule; and his deafness
+made him worse in this, because he never heard what nobody said, but
+would say on his own way--he was very _odd_, but not _cracked_--no,
+he was as clear-headed, when he took a thing the right way, as any
+man could be, and as clever, and could talk as well as any member of
+parliament--and good-natured, and kind-hearted, where he would take a
+fancy--but then, may be, it would be to a dog (he was remarkably fond
+of dogs), or a cat, or a rat even, that he would take a fancy, and
+think more of 'em than he would of a Christian. But, poor gentleman,
+there's great allowance," said she, "to be made for him, that lost
+his son and heir--that would have been heir to all, and a fine youth
+that he doted upon. But," continued the old woman, in whose mind
+the transitions from great to little, from serious to trivial, were
+ludicrously abrupt, "that was no reason why the old gentleman should
+scold me last time he was here, as he did, for as long as ever he
+could stand over me, only because I killed a mouse who was eating
+my cheese; and, before night, he beat a boy for stealing a piece of
+that same cheese; and he would never, when down here, let me set a
+mouse-trap."
+
+"Well, my good woman," interrupted Lord Colambre, who was little
+interested in this affair of the mouse-trap, and nowise curious to
+learn more of Mr. Reynolds' domestic economy, "I'll not trouble
+you any farther, if you can be so good as to tell me the road to
+Toddrington, or to Little Wickham, I think you call it."
+
+"Little Wickham!" repeated the woman, laughing--"Bless you, sir, where
+do you come from? It's Little Wrestham: sure every body knows, near
+Lantry; and keep the _pike_ till you come to the turn at Rotherford,
+and then you strike off into the by-road to the left, and then turn
+again at the ford to the right. But, if you are going to Toddrington,
+you don't go the road to market, which is at the first turn to the
+left, and the cross country road, where there's no quarter, and
+Toddrington lies--but for Wrestham, you take the road to market."
+
+It was some time before our hero could persuade the old woman to stick
+to Little Wrestham, or to Toddrington, and not to mix the directions
+for the different roads together--he took patience, for his impatience
+only confused his director the more. In process of time he made out,
+and wrote down, the various turns that he was to follow, to reach
+Little Wrestham; but no human power could get her from Little Wrestham
+to Toddrington, though she knew the road perfectly well; but she had,
+for the seventeen last years, been used to go "the other road," and
+all the carriers went that way, and passed the door, and that was all
+she could certify.
+
+Little Wrestham, after turning to the left and right as often as his
+directory required, our hero happily reached: but, unhappily, he
+found no Mr. Reynolds there; only a steward, who gave nearly the same
+account of his master as had been given by the old woman, and could
+not guess even where the gentleman might now be. Toddrington was as
+likely as any place--but he could not say.
+
+"Perseverance against fortune." To Toddrington our hero proceeded,
+through cross country roads--such roads!--very different from the
+Irish roads. Waggon ruts, into which the carriage wheels sunk nearly
+to the nave--and, from time to time, "sloughs of despond," through
+which it seemed impossible to drag, walk, wade, or swim, and all the
+time with a sulky postilion. "Oh, how unlike my Larry!" thought Lord
+Colambre.
+
+At length, in a very narrow lane, going up a hill, said to be two
+miles of ascent, they overtook a heavy laden waggon, and they were
+obliged to go step by step behind it, whilst, enjoying the gentleman's
+impatience much, and the postilion's sulkiness more, the waggoner, in
+his embroidered frock, walked in state, with his long sceptre in his
+hand.
+
+The postilion muttered "curses not loud, but deep." Deep or loud, no
+purpose would they have answered; the waggoner's temper was proof
+against curse in or out of the English language; and from their
+snail's pace neither _Dickens_, nor devil, nor any postilion in
+England could make him put his horses. Lord Colambre jumped out of the
+chaise, and, walking beside him, began to talk to him; and spoke of
+his horses, their bells, their trappings; the beauty and strength
+of the thill-horse--the value of the whole team, which his lordship
+happening to guess right within ten pounds, and showing, moreover,
+some skill about road-making and waggon-wheels, and being fortunately
+of the waggoner's own opinion in the great question about conical and
+cylindrical rims, he was pleased with the young chap of a gentleman;
+and, in spite of the chuffiness of his appearance and churlishness of
+his speech, this waggoner's bosom being "made of penetrable stuff," he
+determined to let the gentleman pass. Accordingly, when half way up
+the hill, and the head of the fore-horse came near an open gate, the
+waggoner, without saying one word or turning his head, touched the
+horse with his long whip--and the horse turned in at the gate, and
+then came, "Dobbin!--Jeho!" and strange calls and sounds, which all
+the other horses of the team obeyed; and the waggon turned into the
+farm-yard.
+
+"Now, master! while I turn, you may pass."
+
+The covering of the waggon caught in the hedge as the waggon turned
+in; and as the sacking was drawn back, some of the packages were
+disturbed--a cheese was just rolling off on the side next Lord
+Colambre; he stopped it from falling: the direction caught his quick
+eye--"To Ralph Reynolds, Esq."--"_Toddrington_" scratched out; "Red
+Lion Square, London," written in another hand below.
+
+"Now I have found him! And surely I know that hand!" said Lord
+Colambre to himself, looking more closely at the direction.
+
+The original direction was certainly in a hand-writing well known to
+him--it was Lady Dashfort's.
+
+"That there cheese, that you're looking at so cur'ously," said the
+waggoner, "has been a great traveller; for it came all the way down
+from Lon'on, and now its going all the way up again back, on account
+of not finding the gentleman at home; and the man that booked it told
+me as how it came from foreign parts."
+
+Lord Colambre took down the direction, tossed the honest waggoner a
+guinea, wished him good night, passed, and went on. As soon as he
+could, he turned into the London road--at the first town, got a place
+in the mail--reached London--saw his father--went directly to his
+friend, Count O'Halloran, who was delighted when he beheld the packet.
+Lord Colambre was extremely eager to go immediately to old Reynolds,
+fatigued as he was; for he had travelled night and day, and had
+scarcely allowed himself, mind or body, one moment's repose.
+
+"Heroes must sleep, and lovers too; or they soon will cease to be
+heroes or lovers!" said the count. "Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! this
+night; and to-morrow morning we'll finish the adventures in Red Lion
+Square, or I will accompany you when and where you will; if necessary,
+to earth's remotest bounds."
+
+The next morning Lord Colambre went to breakfast with the count. The
+count, who was not in love, was not up, for our hero was half an
+hour earlier than the time appointed. The old servant Ulick, who had
+attended his master to England, was very glad to see Lord Colambre
+again, and, showing him into the breakfast parlour, could not help
+saying, in defence of his master's punctuality, "Your clocks, I
+suppose, my lord, are half an hour faster than ours: my master will be
+ready to the moment."
+
+The count soon appeared--breakfast was soon over, and the carriage at
+the door; for the count sympathized in his young friend's impatience.
+As they were setting out, the count's large Irish dog pushed out of
+the house-door to follow them; and his master would have forbidden
+him, but Lord Colambre begged that he might be permitted to accompany
+them; for his lordship recollected the old woman's having mentioned
+that Mr. Reynolds was fond of dogs.
+
+They arrived in Red Lion Square, found the house of Mr. Reynolds, and,
+contrary to the count's prognostics, found the old gentleman up, and
+they saw him in his red night-cap at his parlour window. After some
+minutes' running backwards and forwards of a boy in the passage, and
+two or three peeps taken over the blinds by the old gentleman, they
+were admitted.
+
+The boy could not master their names; so they were obliged
+reciprocally to announce themselves--"Count O'Halloran and Lord
+Colambre." The names seemed to make no impression on the old
+gentleman; but he deliberately looked at the count and his lordship,
+as if studying _what_ rather than _who_ they were. In spite of the red
+night-cap, and a flowered dressing-gown, Mr. Reynolds looked like a
+gentleman, an odd gentleman--but still a gentleman.
+
+As Count O'Halloran came into the room, and as his large dog attempted
+to follow, the count's look expressed--
+
+"Say, shall I let him in, or shut the door?"
+
+"Oh, let him in, by all means, sir, if you please! I am fond of
+dogs; and a finer one I never saw: pray, gentlemen, be seated," said
+he--a portion of the complacency, inspired by the sight of the dog,
+diffusing itself over his manner towards the master of so fine an
+animal, and even extending to the master's companion, though in an
+inferior degree. Whilst Mr. Reynolds stroked the dog, the count told
+him that "the dog was of a curious breed, now almost extinct--the
+Irish greyhound; only one nobleman in Ireland, it is said, has a few
+of the species remaining in his possession--Now, lie down, Hannibal,"
+said the count. "Mr. Reynolds, we have taken the liberty, though
+strangers, of waiting upon you--"
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," interrupted Mr. Reynolds; "but did I
+understand you rightly, that a few of the same species are still to be
+had from one nobleman in Ireland? Pray, what is his name?" said he,
+taking out his pencil.
+
+The count wrote the name for him, but observed, that "he had asserted
+only that a few of these dogs remained in the possession of that
+nobleman; he could not answer for it that they were _to be had_."
+
+"Oh, I have ways and means," said old Reynolds; and, rapping his
+snuff-box, and talking, as it was his custom, loud to himself, "Lady
+Dashfort knows all those Irish lords: she shall get one for me--ay!
+ay!"
+
+Count O'Halloran replied, as if the words had been addressed to him,
+"Lady Dashfort is in England."
+
+"I know it, sir; she is in London," said Mr. Reynolds, hastily. "What
+do you know of her?"
+
+"I know, sir, that she is not likely to return to Ireland, and
+that I am; and so is my young friend here: and if the thing can be
+accomplished, we will get it done for you."
+
+Lord Colambre joined in this promise, and added, that, "if the dog
+could be obtained, he would undertake to have him safely sent over to
+England."
+
+"Sir--gentlemen! I'm much obliged; that is, when you have done the
+thing I shall be much obliged. But, may be, you are only making me
+civil speeches!"
+
+"Of that, sir," said the count, smiling with much temper, "your own
+sagacity and knowledge of the world must enable you to judge."
+
+"For my own part, I can only say," cried Lord Colambre, "that I am not
+in the habit of being reproached with saying one thing and meaning
+another."
+
+"Hot! I see," said old Reynolds, nodding as he looked at Lord
+Colambre: "Cool!" added he, nodding at the count. "But a time for
+every thing; I was hot once: both answers good for their ages."
+
+This speech Lord Colambre and the count tacitly agreed to consider as
+another _apart_, which they were not to hear, or seem to hear. The
+count began again on the business of their visit, as he saw that Lord
+Colambre was boiling with impatience, and feared that he should _boil
+over_, and spoil all. The count commenced with, "Mr. Reynolds, your
+name sounds to me like the name of a friend; for I had once a friend
+of that name: I once had the pleasure (and a very great pleasure it
+was to me) to be intimately acquainted abroad, on the continent, with
+a very amiable and gallant youth--your son!"
+
+"Take care, sir," said the old man, starting up from his chair,
+and instantly sinking down again, "take care! Don't mention him to
+me--unless you would strike me dead on the spot!"
+
+The convulsed motions of his fingers and face worked for some moments;
+whilst the count and Lord Colambre, much shocked and alarmed, stood in
+silence.
+
+The convulsed motions ceased; and the old man unbuttoned his
+waistcoat, as if to relieve some sense of oppression; uncovered his
+gray hairs; and, after leaning back to rest himself, with his eyes
+fixed, and in reverie for a few moments, he sat upright again in his
+chair, and exclaimed, as he looked round, "Son!--Did not somebody say
+that word? Who is so cruel to say that word before me? Nobody has ever
+spoken of him to me--but once, since his death! Do you know, sir,"
+said he, fixing his eyes on Count O'Halloran, and laying his cold
+hand on him, "do you know where he was buried, I ask you, sir? do you
+remember how he died?"
+
+"Too well! too well!" cried the count, so much affected as to be
+scarcely able to pronounce the words; "he died in my arms: I buried
+him myself!"
+
+"Impossible!" cried Mr. Reynolds. "Why do you say so, sir?" said he,
+studying the count's face with a sort of bewildered earnestness.
+"Impossible! His body was sent over to me in a lead coffin; and I saw
+it--and I was asked--and I answered, 'In the family vault.' But the
+shock is over," said he: "and, gentlemen, if the business of your
+visit relates to that subject, I trust I am now sufficiently composed
+to attend to you. Indeed, I ought to be prepared; for I had reason,
+for years, to expect the stroke; and yet, when it came, it seemed
+sudden!--it stunned me--put an end to all my worldly prospects--left
+me childless, without a single descendant, or relation near enough to
+be dear to me! I am an insulated being!"
+
+"No, sir, you are not an insulated being," said Lord Colambre: "You
+have a near relation, who will, who must, be dear to you; who will
+make you amends for all you have lost, all you have suffered--who will
+bring peace and joy to your heart: you have a grand-daughter."
+
+"No, sir; I have no grand-daughter," said old Reynolds, his face and
+whole form becoming rigid with the expression of obstinacy. "Rather
+have no descendant than be forced to acknowledge an illegitimate
+child."
+
+"My lord, I entreat as a friend--I command you to be patient," said
+the count, who saw Lord Colambre's indignation suddenly rise.
+
+"So, then, this is the purpose of your visit," continued old Reynolds:
+"and you come from my enemies, from the St. Omars, and you are in a
+league with them," continued old Reynolds: "and all this time it is of
+my eldest son you have been talking."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the count; "of Captain Reynolds, who fell in
+battle, in the Austrian service, about nineteen years ago--a more
+gallant and amiable youth never lived."
+
+Pleasure revived through the dull look of obstinacy in the father's
+eyes.
+
+"He was, as you say, sir, a gallant, an amiable youth, once--and he
+was my pride, and I loved him, too, once--but did not you know I had
+another?"
+
+"No, sir, we did not--we are, you may perceive, totally ignorant of
+your family and of your affairs--we have no connexion whatever or
+knowledge of any of the St. Omars."
+
+"I detest the sound of the name," cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, good! good!--Well! well! I beg your pardon, gentlemen, a thousand
+times--I am a hasty, very hasty old man; but I have been harassed,
+persecuted, hunted by wretches, who got a scent of my gold; often in
+my rage I longed to throw my treasure-bags to my pursuers, and bid
+them leave me to die in peace. You have feelings, I see, both of you,
+gentlemen; excuse, and bear with my temper."
+
+"Bear with you! Much enforced, the best tempers will emit a hasty
+spark," said the count, looking at Lord Colambre, who was now cool
+again; and who, with a countenance full of compassion, sat with his
+eyes fixed upon the poor--no, not the poor, but the unhappy old man.
+
+"Yes, I had another son," continued Mr. Reynolds, "and on him all my
+affections concentrated when I lost my eldest, and for him I desired
+to preserve the estate which his mother brought into the family. Since
+you know nothing of my affairs, let me explain to you: that estate was
+so settled, that it would have gone to the child, even the daughter of
+my eldest son, if there had been a legitimate child. But I knew there
+was no marriage, and I held out firm to my opinion. 'If there was
+a marriage,' said I, 'show me the marriage certificate, and I will
+acknowledge the marriage, and acknowledge the child:' but they could
+not, and I knew they could not; and I kept the estate for my darling
+boy," cried the old gentleman, with the exultation of successful
+positiveness again appearing strong in his physiognomy: but, suddenly
+changing and relaxing, his countenance fell, and he added, "but now I
+have no darling boy. What use all!--all must go to the heir at law, or
+I must will it to a stranger--a lady of quality, who has just found
+out she is my relation--God knows how! I'm no genealogist--and sends
+me Irish cheese, and Iceland moss, for my breakfast, and her waiting
+gentlewoman to namby-pamby me. Oh, I'm sick of it all--see through
+it--wish I was blind--wish I had a hiding-place, where flatterers
+could not find me--pursued, chased--must change my lodgings again
+to-morrow--will, will--I beg your pardon, gentlemen, again: you were
+going to tell me, sir, something more of my eldest son; and how I was
+led away from the subject, I don't know; but I meant only to have
+assured you that his memory was dear to me, till I was so tormented
+about that unfortunate affair of his pretended marriage, that at
+length I hated to hear him named; but the heir at law, at last, will
+triumph over me."
+
+"No, my good sir, not if you triumph over yourself, and do justice,"
+cried Lord Colambre; "if you listen to the truth, which my friend will
+tell you, and if you will read and believe the confirmation of it,
+under your son's own hand, in this packet."
+
+"His own hand indeed! His seal--unbroken. But how--when--where--why
+was it kept so long, and how came it into your hands?"
+
+Count O'Halloran told Mr. Reynolds that the packet had been given
+to him by Captain Reynolds on his death-bed; related the dying
+acknowledgment which Captain Reynolds had made of his marriage; and
+gave an account of the delivery of the packet to the ambassador, who
+had promised to transmit it faithfully. Lord Colambre told the manner
+in which it had been mislaid, and at last recovered from among the
+deceased ambassador's papers. The father still gazed at the direction,
+and re-examined the seals.
+
+"My son's hand-writing--my son's seals! But where is the certificate
+of the marriage?" repeated he; "if it is withinside of this packet, I
+have done great _in_--but I am convinced it never was a marriage. Yet
+I wish now it could be proved--only, in that case, I have for years
+done great--"
+
+"Won't you open the packet, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+Mr. Reynolds looked up at him with a look that said, "I don't clearly
+know what interest you have in all this." But, unable to speak, and
+his hands trembling so that he could scarcely break the seals, he tore
+off the cover, laid the papers before him, sat down, and took breath.
+Lord Colambre, however impatient, had now too much humanity to hurry
+the old gentleman: he only ran for the spectacles, which he espied
+on the chimney-piece, rubbed them bright, and held them ready. Mr.
+Reynolds stretched his hand out for them, put them on, and the first
+paper he opened was the certificate of the marriage: he read it aloud,
+and, putting it down, said, "Now I acknowledge the marriage. I always
+said, if there is a marriage there must be a certificate. And you see
+now there is a certificate--I acknowledge the marriage."
+
+"And now," cried Lord Colambre, "I am happy, positively happy.
+Acknowledge your grand-daughter, sir--acknowledge Miss Nugent."
+
+"Acknowledge whom, sir?"
+
+"Acknowledge Miss Reynolds--your grand-daughter; I ask no more--do
+what you will with your fortune."
+
+"Oh, now I understand--I begin to understand, this young gentleman is
+in love--but where is my grand-daughter? how shall I know she is my
+grand-daughter? I have not heard of her since she was an infant--I
+forgot her existence--I have done her great injustice."
+
+"She knows nothing of it, sir," said Lord Colambre, who now entered
+into a full explanation of Miss Nugent's history, and of her connexion
+with his family, and of his own attachment to her; concluding the
+whole by assuring Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every
+virtue under heaven. "And as to your fortune, sir, I know that she
+will, as I do, say--"
+
+"No matter what she will say," interrupted old Reynolds; "where is
+she? When I see her, I shall hear what she says. Tell me where she
+is--let me see her. I long to see whether there is any likeness to her
+poor father. Where is she? Let me see her immediately."
+
+"She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir, at Buxton."
+
+"Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles? I suppose
+you think I can't stir from my chair, but you are mistaken. I think
+nothing of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles--I am ready to set
+off to-morrow--this instant."
+
+Lord Colambre said, that he was sure Miss Reynolds would obey her
+grandfather's slightest summons, as it was her duty to do, and would
+be with him as soon as possible, if this would be more agreeable to
+him. "I will write to her instantly," said his lordship, "if you will
+commission me."
+
+"No, my lord, I do not commission--I will go--I think nothing, I
+say, of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles--I'll go--and set out
+to-morrow morning."
+
+Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with the result of
+their visit, now thought it best to leave old Reynolds at liberty
+to rest himself, after so many strong and varied feelings. They
+paid their parting compliments, settled the time for the next day's
+journey, and were just going to quit the room, when Lord Colambre
+heard in the passage a well-known voice--the voice of Mrs. Petito.
+
+"Oh, no, my Lady Dashfort's best compliments, and I will call again."
+
+"No, no," cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; "I'll have no calling
+again--I'll be hanged if I do! Let her in now, and I'll see her--Jack!
+let in that woman now or never."
+
+"The lady's gone, sir, out of the street door."
+
+"After her, then--now or never, tell her."
+
+"Sir, she was in a hackney coach."
+
+Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing
+the hackney coachman just turning, beckoned at the window, and Mrs.
+Petito was set down again, and ushered in by Jack, who announced her
+as, "the lady, sir." The only lady he had seen in that house.
+
+"My dear Mr. Reynolds, I'm so obliged to you for letting me in," cried
+Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the passage, and speaking in a
+voice and manner well mimicked after her betters. "You are so very
+good and kind, and I am so much obliged to you."
+
+"You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor kind," said old
+Reynolds.
+
+"You strange man," said Mrs. Petito, advancing graceful in shawl
+drapery; but she stopped short. "My Lord Colambre and Count
+O'Halloran, as I hope to be saved!"
+
+"I did not know Mrs. Petito was an acquaintance of yours, gentlemen,"
+said Mr. Reynolds, smiling shrewdly.
+
+Count O'Halloran was too polite to deny his acquaintance with a lady
+who challenged it by thus naming him; but he had not the slightest
+recollection of her, though it seems he had met her on the stairs
+when he visited Lady Dashfort at Killpatricks-town. Lord Colambre was
+"indeed _undeniably an old acquaintance_:" and as soon as she had
+recovered from her first natural start and vulgar exclamation, she
+with very easy familiarity hoped "my Lady Clonbrony, and my Lord, and
+Miss Nugent, and all her friends in the family, were well;" and said,
+"she did not know whether she was to congratulate his lordship or not
+upon Miss Broadhurst, my Lady Berryl's marriage, but she should soon
+have to hope for his lordship's congratulations for another marriage
+in _her_ present family--Lady Isabel to Colonel Heathcock, who was
+come in for a large _portion_, and they are buying the wedding
+clothes--sights of clothes--and the di'monds, this day; and Lady
+Dashfort and my Lady Isabel sent me especially, sir, to you, Mr.
+Reynolds, and to tell you, sir, before any body else; and to hope the
+cheese _come_ safe up again at last; and to ask whether the Iceland
+moss agrees with your chocolate, and is palatable? it's the most
+_diluent_ thing upon the universal earth, and the most _tonic_ and
+fashionable--the Duchess of Torcaster takes it always for breakfast,
+and Lady St. James too is quite a convert, and I hear the Duke of V***
+takes it too."
+
+"And the devil may take it too, for any thing that I care," said old
+Reynolds.
+
+"Oh, my dear, dear sir! you are so refractory a patient."
+
+"I am no patient at all, ma'am, and have no patience either: I am as
+well as you are, or my Lady Dashfort either, and hope, God willing,
+long to continue so."
+
+Mrs. Petito smiled aside at Lord Colambre, to mark her perception of
+the man's strangeness. Then, in a cajoling voice, addressing herself
+to the old gentleman, "Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven
+grants my daily and nightly prayers, and my Lady Dashfort's also. So,
+Mr. Reynolds, if the ladies' prayers are of any avail, you ought to be
+purely, and I suppose ladies' prayers have the precedence in efficacy.
+But it was not of prayers and death-bed affairs I came commissioned to
+treat--but of weddings my diplomacy was to speak: and to premise my
+Lady Dashfort would have come herself in her carriage, but is hurried
+out of her senses, and my Lady Isabel could not in proper modesty; so
+they sent me as their _double_, to hope you, my dear Mr. Reynolds,
+who is one of the family relations, will honour the wedding with your
+presence."
+
+"It would be no honour, and they know that as well as I do," said the
+intractable Mr. Reynolds. "It will be no advantage, either; but that
+they do not know as well as I do. Mrs. Petito, to save you and your
+lady all trouble about me in future, please to let my Lady Dashfort
+know that I have just received and read the certificate of my son
+Captain Reynolds' marriage with Miss St. Omar. I have acknowledged the
+marriage. Better late than never; and to-morrow morning, God willing,
+shall set out with this young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to
+see, and intend publicly to acknowledge, my grand-daughter--provided
+she will acknowledge me."
+
+"_Crimini!_" exclaimed Mrs. Petito, "what new turns are here? Well,
+sir, I shall tell my lady of the _metamorphoses_ that have taken
+place, though by what magic I can't guess. But, since it seems
+annoying and inopportune, I shall make my _finale_, and shall thus
+leave a verbal P.P.C.--as you are leaving town, it seems, for Buxton
+so early in the morning. My Lord Colambre, if I see rightly into a
+millstone, as I hope and believe I do on the present occasion, I
+have to congratulate your lordship (haven't I?) upon something like
+a succession, or a windfall, in this _denewment_. And I beg you'll
+make my humble respects acceptable to the _ci-devant_ Miss Grace
+Nugent that was; and I won't _derrogate_ her by any other name in
+the interregnum, as I am persuaded it will only be a temporary name,
+scarce worth assuming, except for the honour of the public adoption;
+and that will, I'm confident, be soon exchanged for a viscount's
+title, or I have no sagacity or sympathy. I hope I don't (pray don't
+let me) put you to the blush, my lord."
+
+Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have helped it.
+
+"Count O'Halloran, your most obedient! I had the honour of meeting
+you at Killpatricks-town," said Mrs. Petito, backing to the door, and
+twitching her shawl. She stumbled, nearly fell down, over the large
+dog--caught by the door, and recovered herself--Hannibal rose and
+shook his ears. "Poor fellow! you are of my acquaintance, too." She
+would have stroked his head; but Hannibal walked off indignant, and so
+did she.
+
+Thus ended certain hopes: for Mrs. Petito had conceived that her
+_diplomacy_ might be turned to account; that in her character of an
+ambassadress, as Lady Dashfort's double, by the aid of Iceland moss in
+chocolate, of flattery properly administered, and of bearing with all
+her _dear_ Mr. Reynolds' _oddnesses_ and _rough-nesses_, she might in
+time--that is to say, before he made a new will--become his dear Mrs.
+Petito; or (for stranger things have happened and do happen every
+day), his dear Mrs. Reynolds! Mrs. Petito, however, was good at a
+retreat; and she flattered herself that at least nothing of this
+underplot had appeared: and at all events she secured, by her services
+in this embassy, the long looked-for object of her ambition, Lady
+Dashfort's scarlet velvet gown--"not yet a thread the worse for the
+wear!" One cordial look at this comforted her for the loss of her
+expected _octogenaire_; and she proceeded to discomfit her lady, by
+repeating the message with which strange old Mr. Reynolds had charged
+her. So ended all Lady Dashfort's hopes of his fortune.
+
+Since the death of his youngest son, she had been indefatigable in her
+attentions, and sanguine in her hopes: the disappointment affected
+both her interest and her pride, as an _intrigante_. It was necessary,
+however, to keep her feelings to herself; for if Heathcock should hear
+any thing of the matter before the articles were signed, he might "be
+off!"--so she put him and Lady Isabel into her coach directly--drove
+to Rundell and Bridges', to make sure at all events of the jewels.
+
+In the mean time Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, delighted with
+the result of their visit, took leave of Mr. Reynolds, after having
+arranged the journey, and appointed the hour for setting off the next
+day. Lord Colambre proposed to call upon Mr. Reynolds in the evening,
+and introduce his father, Lord Clonbrony; but Mr. Reynolds said, "No,
+no! I'm not ceremonious. I have given you proofs enough of that, I
+think, in the short time we've been already acquainted. Time enough
+to introduce your father to me when we are in a carriage, going our
+journey: then we can talk, and get acquainted: but merely to come
+this evening in a hurry, and say, 'Lord Clonbrony, Mr. Reynolds;--Mr.
+Reynolds, Lord Clonbrony'--and then bob our two heads at one another,
+and scrape one foot back, and away!--where's the use of that nonsense
+at my time of life, or at any time of life? No, no! we have enough to
+do without that, I dare say.--Good morning to you, Count O'Halloran!
+I thank you heartily. From the first moment I saw you, I liked you:
+lucky too, that you brought your dog with you! 'Twas Hannibal made me
+first let you in; I saw him over the top of the blind. Hannibal, my
+good fellow! I'm more obliged to you than you can guess."
+
+"So are we all," said Lord Colambre.
+
+Hannibal was well patted, and then they parted. In returning home they
+met Sir James Brooke.
+
+"I told you," said Sir James, "I should be in London almost as soon as
+you. Have you found old Reynolds?"
+
+"Just come from him."
+
+"How does your business prosper? I hope as well as mine."
+
+A history of all that had passed up to the present moment was given,
+and hearty congratulations received.
+
+"Where are you going now, Sir James?--cannot you come with us?" said
+Lord Colambre and the count.
+
+"Impossible," replied Sir James;--"but, perhaps, you can come with
+me--I'm going to Rundell and Bridges', to give some old family
+diamonds either to be new set or exchanged. Count O'Halloran, I know
+you are a judge of these things; pray come and give me your opinion."
+
+"Better consult your bride elect!" said the count.
+
+"No; she knows little of the matter--and cares less," replied Sir
+James.
+
+"Not so this bride elect, or I mistake her much," said the count,
+as they passed by the window, at Rundell and Bridges', and saw Lady
+Isabel, who, with Lady Dashfort, had been holding consultation deep
+with the jeweller; and Heathcock, playing _personnage muet_.
+
+Lady Dashfort, who had always, as old Reynolds expressed it, "her
+head upon her shoulders,"--presence of mind where her interests were
+concerned, ran to the door before the count and Lord Colambre could
+enter, giving a hand to each--as if they had all parted the best
+friends in the world.
+
+"How do? how do?--Give you joy! give me joy! and all that. But mind!
+not a word," said she, laying her finger upon her lips, "not a word
+before Heathcock of old Reynolds, or of the best part of the old
+fool--his fortune!"
+
+The gentlemen bowed, in sign of submission to her ladyship's commands;
+and comprehended that she feared Heathcock might _be off_, if the best
+part of his bride (her fortune, or her _expectations_) were lowered in
+value or in prospect.
+
+"How low is she reduced," whispered Lord Colambre, "when such a
+husband is thought a prize--and to be secured by a manoeuvre!" He
+sighed.
+
+"Spare that generous sigh!" said Sir James Brooke: "it is wasted."
+
+Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror, at which she
+was trying on a diamond crescent. Her face clouded at the sight of
+Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, and grew dark as hatred when she
+saw Sir James Brooke. She walked away to the farther end of the shop,
+and asked one of the shopmen the price of a diamond necklace, which
+lay upon the counter.
+
+The man said he really did not know; it belonged to Lady Oranmore; it
+had just been new set for one of her ladyship's daughters, "who is
+going to be married to Sir James Brooke--one of the gentlemen, my
+lady, who are just come in."
+
+Then, calling to his master, he asked him the price of the necklace:
+he named the value, which was considerable.
+
+"I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters were vastly too
+philosophical to think of diamonds," said Lady Isabel to her mother,
+with a sort of sentimental sneer in her voice and countenance. "But it
+is some comfort to me to find, in these pattern-women, philosophy and
+love do not so wholly engross the heart, that they
+
+  "'Feel every vanity in fondness lost.'"
+
+"'Twould be difficult, in some cases," thought many present.
+
+"'Pon honour, di'monds are cursed expensive things, I know!" said
+Heathcock. "But, be that as it may," whispered he to the lady, though
+loud enough to be heard by others, "I've laid a damned round wager,
+that no woman's diamonds married this winter, under a countess, in
+Lon'on, shall eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock's! and Mr. Rundell here's
+to be judge."
+
+Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest smiles; one of
+those smiles which she had formerly bestowed upon Lord Colambre,
+and which he had once fancied expressed so much sensibility--such
+discriminative and delicate penetration.
+
+Our hero felt so much contempt, that he never wasted another sigh
+of pity for her degradation. Lady Dashfort came up to him as he was
+standing alone; and, whilst the count and Sir James were settling
+about the diamonds, "My Lord Colambre," said she, in a low voice, "I
+know your thoughts, and I could moralize as well as you, if I did not
+prefer laughing--you are right enough; and so am I, and so is Isabel;
+we are all right. For look here: women have not always the liberty of
+choice, and therefore they can't be expected to have always the power
+of refusal."
+
+The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got into her
+carriage with her daughter, her daughter's diamonds, and her precious
+son-in-law, her daughter's companion for life.
+
+"The more I see," said Count O'Halloran to Lord Colambre, as they
+left the shop, "the more I find reason to congratulate you upon your
+escape, my dear lord."
+
+"I owe it not to my own wit or wisdom," said Lord Colambre; "but much
+to love, and much to friendship," added he, turning to Sir James
+Brooke: "here was the friend who early warned me against the siren's
+voice; who, before I knew the Lady Isabel, told me what I have since
+found to be true, that
+
+ "'Two passions alternately govern her fate--Her
+   business is love, but her pleasure is hate,'"
+
+"That is dreadfully severe, Sir James," said Count O'Halloran; "but, I
+am afraid, is just."
+
+"I am sure it is just, or I would not have said it," replied Sir James
+Brooke. "For the foibles of the sex, I hope, I have as much indulgence
+as any man, and for the errors of passion as much pity; but I cannot
+repress the indignation, the abhorrence I feel against women cold
+and vain, who use their wit and their charms only to make others
+miserable."
+
+Lord Colambre recollected at this moment Lady Isabel's look and voice,
+when she declared that she would let her little finger be cut off to
+purchase the pleasure of inflicting on Lady De Cressy, for one hour,
+the torture of jealousy.
+
+"Perhaps," continued Sir James Brooke, "now that I am going to marry
+into an Irish family, I may feel, with peculiar energy, disapprobation
+of this mother and daughter on another account; but you, Lord
+Colambre, will do me the justice to recollect, that before I had any
+personal interest in the country, I expressed, as a general friend to
+Ireland, antipathy to those who return the hospitality they received
+from a warm-hearted people, by publicly setting the example of elegant
+sentimental hypocrisy, or daring disregard of decorum, by privately
+endeavouring to destroy the domestic peace of families, on which, at
+last, public as well as private virtue and happiness depend. I do
+rejoice, my dear Lord Colambre, to hear you say that I had any share
+in saving you from the siren; and now I will never speak of these
+ladies more. I am sorry you cannot stay in town to see--but why should
+I be sorry--we shall meet again, I trust, and I shall introduce you;
+and you, I hope, will introduce me to a very different charmer.
+Farewell!--you have my warm good wishes, wherever you go."
+
+Sir James turned off quickly to the street in which Lady Oranmore
+lived, and Lord Colambre had not time to tell him that he knew and
+admired his intended bride. Count O'Halloran promised to do this for
+him.
+
+"And now," said the good count, "I am to take leave of you; and I
+assure you I do it with so much reluctance, that nothing less than
+positive engagements to stay in town would prevent me from setting
+off with you to-morrow; but I shall be soon, very soon, at liberty to
+return to Ireland; and Clonbrony Castle, if you will give me leave, I
+will see before I see Halloran Castle."
+
+Lord Colambre joyfully thanked his friend for this promise.
+
+"Nay, it is to indulge myself. I long to see you happy--long to behold
+the choice of such a heart as yours. Pray do not steal a march upon
+me--let me know in time. I will leave every thing--even my friend the
+minister's secret expedition--for your wedding. But I trust I shall be
+in time."
+
+"Assuredly you will, my dear count; if ever that wedding--"
+
+"_If_," repeated the count.
+
+"_If_," repeated Lord Colambre. "Obstacles which, when we last parted,
+appeared to me invincible, prevented my having ever even attempted to
+make an impression on the heart of the woman I love: and if you knew
+her, count, as well as I do, you would know that her love could 'not
+unsought be won.'"
+
+"Of that I cannot doubt, or she would not be your choice; but when
+her love is sought, we have every reason to hope," said the count,
+smiling, "that it may, because it ought to be, won by tried honour and
+affection. I only require to be left in hope."
+
+"Well, I leave you hope," said Lord Colambre: "Miss Nugent--Miss
+Reynolds, I should say, has been in the habit of considering a union
+with me as impossible; my mother early instilled this idea into
+her mind. Miss Nugent thought that duty forbad her to think of me;
+she told me so: I have seen it in all her conduct and manners. The
+barriers of habit, the ideas of duty, cannot, ought not, to be thrown
+down, or suddenly changed, in a well-regulated female mind. And you,
+I am sure, know enough of the best female hearts, to be aware that
+time--"
+
+"Well, well, let this dear good charmer take her own time, provided
+there's none given to affectation, or prudery, or coquetry; and from
+all these, of course, she must be free; and of course I must be
+content. Adieu."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+As Lord Colambre was returning home, he was overtaken by Sir Terence
+O'Fay.
+
+"Well, my lord," cried Sir Terence, out of breath, "you have led me a
+pretty dance all over the town: here's a letter somewhere down in my
+safe pocket for you, which has cost me trouble enough. Phoo! where is
+it now?--it's from Miss Nugent," said he, holding up the letter. The
+direction to Grosvenor-square, London, had been scratched out; and it
+had been re-directed by Sir Terence to the Lord Viscount Colambre, at
+Sir James Brooke's, Bart., Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, or elsewhere,
+with speed, "But the more haste the worse speed; for away it went to
+Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, where I knew, if any where, you was to be
+found; but, as fate and the post would have it, there the letter went
+coursing after you, while you were running round, and _back_, and
+forwards, and every where, I understand, to Toddrington and Wrestham,
+and where not, through all them English places, where there's no
+cross-post: so I took it for granted that it found its way to the
+dead-letter office, or was sticking up across a pane in the d----d
+postmaster's window at Huntingdon, for the whole town to see, and it a
+love-letter, and some puppy to claim it, under false pretence; and you
+all the time without it, and it might breed a coolness betwixt you and
+Miss Nugent."
+
+"But, my dear Sir Terence, give me the letter now you have me."
+
+"Oh, my dear lord, if you knew what a race I have had, missing you
+here by five minutes, and there by five seconds--but I have you at
+last, and you have it--and I'm paid this minute for all I liquidated
+of my substance, by the pleasure I have in seeing you crack
+the seal and read it. But take care you don't tumble over the
+orange-woman--orange barrows are a great nuisance, when one's studying
+a letter in the streets of London, or the metropolis. But never heed;
+stick to my arm, and I'll guide you, like a blind man, safe through
+the thick of them."
+
+Miss Nugent's letter, which Lord Colambre read in spite of the
+jostling of passengers, and the incessant talking of Sir Terence, was
+as follows:--
+
+    "Let me not be the cause of banishing you from your home and your
+    country, where you would do so much good, and make so many happy.
+    Let me not be the cause of your breaking your promise to your
+    mother; of your disappointing my dear aunt so cruelly, who has
+    complied with all our wishes, and who sacrifices, to oblige us,
+    her favourite tastes. How could she be ever happy in Ireland--how
+    could Clonbrony Castle be a home to her without her son? If you
+    take away all she had of amusement and _pleasure_, as it is
+    called, are not you bound to give her, in their stead, that
+    domestic happiness, which she can enjoy only with you, and by your
+    means? If, instead of living with her, you go into the army, she
+    will be in daily, nightly anxiety and alarm about you; and her son
+    will, instead of being a comfort, be a source of torment to her.
+
+    "I will hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto
+    done, on every occasion where I have seen you act, what is right,
+    and just, and kind. Come here on the day you promised my aunt you
+    would; before that time I shall be in Cambridgeshire, with my
+    friend Lady Berryl; she is so good as to come to Buxton for me--I
+    shall remain with her, instead of returning to Ireland. I have
+    explained my reasons to my dear aunt--Could I have any concealment
+    from her, to whom, from my earliest childhood, I owe every thing
+    that kindness and affection could give? She is satisfied--she
+    consents to my living henceforward with Lady Berryl. Let me have
+    the pleasure of seeing by your conduct, that you approve of mine.
+
+    "Your affectionate cousin
+
+    "and friend,
+
+    "GRACE NUGENT."
+
+This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are capable
+of feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our hero exquisite
+pleasure. Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O'Fay enjoyed his lordship's
+delight; and forgot himself so completely, that he never even inquired
+whether Lord Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had spoken
+to him some time before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence's
+interest. The next morning, when the carriage was at the door, and
+Sir Terence was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and
+actually in tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he
+said there was none left now in London, or the wide world even, for
+him--Lord Colambre went up to him, and said, "Sir Terence, you have
+never inquired whether I have done your business."
+
+"Oh, my dear, I'm not thinking of that now--time enough by the post--I
+can write after you; but my thoughts won't turn for me to business
+now--no matter."
+
+"Your business is done," replied Lord Colambre.
+
+"Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you had upon your
+mind and heart. When any thing's upon my heart, good morning to my
+head, it's not worth a lemon. Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly,
+and all happiness attend you."
+
+"Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O'Fay," said Lord Clonbrony; "and, since
+it's so ordered, I must live without you."
+
+"Oh! you'll live better without me, my lord; I am not a good liver, I
+know, nor the best of all companions, for a nobleman, young or old;
+and now you'll be rich, and not put to your shifts and your wits, what
+would I have to do for you?--Sir Terence O'Fay, you know, was only
+_the poor nobleman's friend_, and you'll never want to call upon him
+again, thanks to your jewel, your Pitt's-diamond of a son there. So
+we part here, and depend upon it you're better without me--that's all
+my comfort, or my heart would break. The carriage is waiting this
+long time, and this young lover's aching to be off. God bless you
+both!--that's my last word."
+
+They called in Red Lion-square, punctual to the moment, on old Mr.
+Reynolds, but his window-shutters were shut; he had been seized in
+the night with a violent fit of the gout, which, as he said, held him
+fast by the leg. "But here," said he, giving Lord Colambre a letter,
+"here's what will do your business without me. Take this written
+acknowledgment I have penned for you, and give my grand-daughter her
+father's letter to read--it would touch a heart of stone--touched
+mine--wish I could drag the mother back out of her grave, to do her
+justice--all one now. You see, at last, I'm not a suspicious rascal,
+however, for I don't suspect you of palming a false grand-daughter
+upon me."
+
+"Will you," said Lord Colambre, "give your grand-daughter leave to
+come up to town to you, sir! You would satisfy yourself, at least, as
+to what resemblance she may bear to her father: Miss Reynolds will
+come instantly, and she will nurse you."
+
+"No, no; I won't have her come. If she comes, I won't see her--sha'n't
+begin by nursing me--not selfish. As soon as I get rid of this gout,
+I shall be my own man, and young again, and I'll soon be after you
+across the sea, that sha'n't stop me: I'll come to--what's the name
+of your place in Ireland?--and see what likeness I can find to her
+poor father in this grand-daughter of mine, that you puffed so finely
+yesterday. And let me see whether she will wheedle me as finely as
+Mrs. Petito would. Don't get ready your marriage settlements, do you
+hear? till you have seen my will, which I shall sign at--what's the
+name of your place? Write it down there; there's pen and ink; and
+leave me, for the twinge is coming, and I shall roar."
+
+"Will you permit me, sir, to leave my own servant with you to take
+care of you? I can answer for his attention and fidelity."
+
+"Let me see his face, and I'll tell you."
+
+Lord Colambre's servant was summoned.
+
+"Yes, I like his face. God bless you!--Leave me."
+
+Lord Colambre gave his servant a charge to bear with Mr. Reynolds'
+rough manner and temper, and to pay the poor old gentleman every
+possible attention. Then our hero proceeded with his father on his
+journey, and on this journey nothing happened worthy of note. On his
+first perusal of the letter from Grace, Lord Colambre had feared that
+she would have left Buxton with Lady Berryl before he could reach it;
+but, upon recollection, he hoped that the few lines he had written,
+addressed to his mother _and_ Miss Nugent, with the assurance that
+he should be with them on Wednesday, would be sufficient to show her
+that some great change had happened, and consequently sufficient to
+prevent her from quitting her aunt, till she could know whether such
+a separation would be necessary. He argued wisely, more wisely than
+Grace had reasoned; for, notwithstanding this note, she would have
+left Buxton before his arrival, but for Lady Berryl's strength of
+mind, and positive determination not to set out with her till Lord
+Colambre should arrive to explain. In the interval, poor Grace was,
+indeed, in an anxious state of suspense; and her uncertainty, whether
+she was doing right or wrong, by staying to see Lord Colambre,
+tormented her most.
+
+"My dear, you cannot help yourself: be quiet," said Lady Berryl: "I
+will take the whole upon my conscience; and I hope my conscience may
+never have any thing worse to answer for."
+
+Grace was the first person who, from her window, saw Lord Colambre,
+the instant the carriage drove to the door. She ran to her friend Lady
+Berryl's apartment. "He is come!--Now, take me away."
+
+"Not yet, my sweet friend! Lie down upon this sofa, if you please; and
+keep yourself tranquil, whilst I go and see what you ought to do; and
+depend upon me for a true friend, in whose mind, as in your own, duty
+is the first object."
+
+"I depend on you entirely," said Grace, sinking down on the sofa: "and
+you see I obey you!"
+
+"Many thanks to you for lying down, when you can't stand."
+
+Lady Berryl went to Lord Clonbrony's apartment; she was met by Sir
+Arthur. "Come, my love! come quick!--Lord Colambre is arrived."
+
+"I know it; and does he go to Ireland? Speak instantly, that I may
+tell Grace Nugent."
+
+"You can tell her nothing yet, my love; for we know nothing. Lord
+Colambre will not say a word till you come; but I know, by his
+countenance, that he has good and extraordinary news."
+
+They passed rapidly along the passage to Lady Clonbrony's room.
+
+"Oh, my dear, dear Lady Berryl, come! or I shall die with impatience,"
+cried Lady Clonbrony, in a voice and manner between laughing and
+crying. "There, now you have congratulated, are very happy, and very
+glad, and all that--now, for mercy's sake, sit down, Lord Clonbrony!
+for Heaven's sake, sit down--beside me here--or any where! Now,
+Colambre, begin; and tell us all at once!"
+
+But as nothing is so tedious as a twice told tale, Lord Colambre's
+narrative need not here be repeated. He began with Count O'Halloran's
+visit, immediately after Lady Clonbrony had left London; and went
+through the history of the discovery that Captain Reynolds was
+the husband of Miss St. Omar, and the father of Grace: the dying
+acknowledgment of his marriage; the packet delivered by Count
+O'Halloran to the careless ambassador--how recovered, by the
+assistance of his executor, Sir James Brooke; the travels from
+Wrestham to Toddrington, and thence to Red Lion-square; the interview
+with old Reynolds, and its final result: all was related as succinctly
+as the impatient curiosity of Lord Colambre's auditors could desire.
+
+"Oh, wonder upon wonder! and joy upon joy!" cried Lady Clonbrony. "So
+my darling Grace is as legitimate as I am, and an heiress after all.
+Where is she? where is she? In your room, Lady Berryl?--Oh, Colambre!
+why wouldn't you let her be by?--Lady Berryl, do you know, he would
+not let me send for her, though she was the person of all others most
+concerned!"
+
+"For that very reason, ma'am; and that Lord Colambre was quite right,
+I am sure you must be sensible, when you recollect, that Grace has no
+idea that she is not the daughter of Mr. Nugent: she has no suspicion
+that the breath of blame ever lighted upon her mother. This part of
+the story cannot be announced to her with too much caution; and,
+indeed, her mind has been so much harassed and agitated, and she is at
+present so far from strong, that great delicacy--."
+
+"True! very true, Lady Berryl," interrupted Lady Clonbrony; "and I'll
+be as delicate as you please about it afterwards: but, in the first
+and foremost place, I must tell her the best part of the story--that
+she's an heiress; that never killed any body!"
+
+So, darting through all opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her way into
+the room where Grace was lying--"Yes, get up! get up! my own Grace,
+and be surprised--well you may!--you are an heiress, after all."
+
+"Am I, my dear aunt?" said Grace.
+
+"True, as I'm Lady Clonbrony--and a very great heiress--and no more
+Colambre's cousin than Lady Berryl here. So now begin and love him as
+fast as you please--I give my consent--and here he is."
+
+Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared at the door.
+
+"Ob, mother! what have you done?"
+
+"What have I done?" cried Lady Clonbrony, following her son's
+eyes:--"Lord bless me!--Grace fainted dead--Lady Berryl! Oh, what have
+I done? My dear Lady Berryl, what shall we do?"
+
+Lady Berryl hastened to her friend's assistance.
+
+"There! her colour's coming again," said Lord Clonbrony; "come away,
+my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so will I--though I long
+to talk to the darling girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet."
+
+When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl leaning over
+her, and, raising herself a little, she said, "What has happened?--I
+don't know yet--I don't know whether I am happy or not.--Explain all
+this to me, my dear friend; for I am still as if I were in a dream."
+
+With all the delicacy which Lady Clonbrony deemed superfluous, Lady
+Berryl explained. Nothing could surpass the astonishment of Grace,
+on first learning that Mr. Nugent was not her father. When she was
+told of the stigma that had been cast on her birth; the suspicions,
+the disgrace, to which her mother had been subjected for so many
+years--that mother, whom she had so loved and respected; who had, with
+such care, instilled into the mind of her daughter the principles
+of virtue and religion; that mother whom Grace had always seen the
+example of every virtue she taught; on whom her daughter never
+suspected that the touch of blame, the breath of scandal, could
+rest--Grace could express her sensations only by repeating, in tones
+of astonishment, pathos, indignation--"My mother!--my mother!--my
+mother!"
+
+For some time she was incapable of attending to any other idea, or
+of feeling any other sensations. When her mind was able to admit the
+thought, her friend soothed her, by recalling the expressions of Lord
+Colambre's love--the struggle by which he had been agitated, when he
+fancied a union with her opposed by an invincible obstacle.
+
+Grace sighed, and acknowledged that, in prudence, it ought to have
+been an _invincible_ obstacle--she admired the firmness of his
+decision, the honour with which he had acted towards her. One moment
+she exclaimed, "Then, if I had been the daughter of a mother who had
+conducted herself ill, he never would have trusted me!" The next
+moment she recollected, with pleasure, the joy she had just seen in
+his eyes--the affection, the passion, that spoke in every word and
+look; then dwelt upon the sober certainty, that all obstacles were
+removed. "And no duty opposes my loving him!--And my aunt wishes it!
+my kind aunt! and my dear uncle! should not I go to him?--But he is
+not my uncle, she is not my aunt. I cannot bring myself to think that
+they are not my relations, and that I am nothing to them."
+
+"You may be every thing to them, my dear Grace," said Lady
+Berryl:--"whenever you please, you may be their daughter."
+
+Grace blushed, and smiled, and sighed, and was consoled. But then she
+recollected her new relation, Mr. Reynolds, her grandfather, whom she
+had never seen, who had for years disowned her--treated her mother
+with injustice. She could scarcely think of him with complacency: yet,
+when his age, his sufferings, his desolate state, were represented,
+she pitied him; and, faithful to her strong sense of duty, would
+have gone instantly to offer him every assistance and attention in
+her power. Lady Berryl assured her that Mr. Reynolds had positively
+forbidden her going to him; and that he had assured Lord Colambre he
+would not see her if she went to him. After such rapid and varied
+emotions, poor Grace desired repose, and her friend took care that it
+should be secured to her for the remainder of the day.
+
+In the mean time, Lord Clonbrony had kindly and judiciously employed
+his lady in a discussion about certain velvet furniture, which Grace
+had painted for the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle.
+
+In Lady Clonbrony's mind, as in some bad paintings, there was no
+_keeping_; all objects, great and small, were upon the same level.
+
+The moment her son entered the room, her ladyship exclaimed, "Every
+thing pleasant at once! Here's your father tells me, Grace's velvet
+furniture's all packed: really Soho's the best man in the world of his
+kind, and the cleverest--and so, after all, my dear Colambre, as I
+always hoped and prophesied, at last you will marry an heiress."
+
+"And Terry," said Lord Clonbrony, "will win his wager from Mordicai."
+
+"Terry!" repeated Lady Clonbrony, "that odious Terry!--I hope, my
+lord, that he is not to be one of my comforts in Ireland."
+
+"No, my dear mother; he is much better provided for than we could
+have expected. One of my father's first objects was to prevent him
+from being any encumbrance to you. We consulted him as to the means
+of making him happy; and the knight acknowledged that he had long
+been casting a sheep's eye at a little snug place, that will soon be
+open in his native country--the chair of assistant barrister at the
+sessions. Assistant barrister!' said my father; 'but, my dear Terry,
+you have been all your life evading the laws, and very frequently
+breaking the peace; do you think this has qualified you peculiarly for
+being a guardian of the laws?' Sir Terence replied, 'Yes, sure; set
+a thief to catch a thief is no bad maxim. And did not Mr. Colquhoun,
+the Scotchman, get himself made a great justice, by his making all the
+world as wise as himself, about thieves of all sorts, by land and by
+water, and in the air too, where he detected the mud-larks?--And is
+not Barrington chief-justice of Botany Bay?"
+
+"My father now began to be seriously alarmed, lest Sir Terence should
+insist upon his using his interest to make him an assistant barrister.
+He was not aware that five years' practice at the bar was a necessary
+accomplishment for this office; when, fortunately for all parties, my
+good friend, Count O'Halloran, helped us out of the difficulty, by
+starting an idea full of practical justice. A literary friend of the
+count's had been for some time promised a lucrative situation under
+government: but, unfortunately, he was a man of so much merit and
+ability, that they could not find employment for him at home, and they
+gave him a commission, I should rather say a contract abroad, for
+supplying the army with Hungarian horses. Now the gentleman had not
+the slightest skill in horse-flesh; and, as Sir Terence is a complete
+_jockey_, the count observed that he would be the best possible deputy
+for his literary friend. We warranted him to be a thorough going
+friend; and I do think the coalition will be well for both parties.
+The count has settled it all, and I left Sir Terence comfortably
+provided for, out of your way, my dear mother; and as happy as he
+could be, when parting from my father."
+
+Lord Colambre was assiduous in engaging his mother's attention upon
+any subject, which could for the present draw her thoughts away from
+her young friend; but at every pause in the conversation, her ladyship
+repeated, "So Grace is an heiress after all--so, after all, they know
+they are not cousins! Well, I prefer Grace, a thousand times over, to
+any other heiress in England. No obstacle, no objection. They have my
+consent. I always prophesied Colambre would marry an heiress; but why
+not marry directly?"
+
+Her ardour and impatience to hurry things forward seemed now likely to
+retard the accomplishment of her own wishes; and Lord Clonbrony, who
+understood rather more of the passion of love than his lady ever had
+felt or understood, saw the agony into which she threw her son, and
+felt for his darling Grace. With a degree of delicacy and address of
+which few would have supposed Lord Clonbrony capable, his lordship
+co-operated with his son in endeavouring to keep Lady Clonbrony
+quiet, and to suppress the hourly thanksgivings of Grace's _turning
+out an heiress_. On one point, however, she vowed she would not be
+overruled--she would have a splendid wedding at Clonbrony Castle, such
+as should become an heir and heiress; and the wedding, she hoped,
+would be immediately on their return to Ireland: she should announce
+the thing to her friends directly on her arrival at Clonbrony Castle.
+
+"My dear," said Lord Clonbrony, "we must wait, in the first place, the
+pleasure of old Mr. Reynolds' fit of the gout."
+
+"Why, that's true, because of his will," said her ladyship; "but a
+will's soon made, is not it? That can't be much delay."
+
+"And then there must be settlements," said Lord Clonbrony; "they take
+time. Lovers, like all the rest of mankind, must submit to the law's
+delay. In the mean time, my dear, as these Buxton baths agree with you
+so well, and as Grace does not seem to be over and above strong for
+travelling a long journey, and as there are many curious and beautiful
+scenes of nature here in Derbyshire--Matlock, and the wonders of the
+Peak, and so on--which the young people would be glad to see together,
+and may not have another opportunity soon--why not rest ourselves a
+little? For another reason, too," continued his lordship, bringing
+together as many arguments as he could--for he had often found,
+that though Lady Clonbrony was a match for any single argument, her
+understanding could be easily overpowered by a number, of whatever
+sort--"besides, my dear, here's Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl come to
+Buxton on purpose to meet us; and we owe them some compliment, and
+something more than compliment, I think: so I don't see why we should
+be in a hurry to leave them, or quit Buxton--a few weeks sooner or
+later can't signify--and Clonbrony Castle will be getting all the
+while into better order for us. Burke is gone down there; and if we
+stay here quietly, there will be time for the velvet furniture to get
+there before us, and to be unpacked, and up in the drawing-room."
+
+"That's true, my lord," said Lady Clonbrony; "and there is a great
+deal of reason in all you say--so I second that motion, as Colambre, I
+see, subscribes to it."
+
+They stayed some time in Derbyshire, and every day Lord Clonbrony
+proposed some pleasant excursion, and contrived that the young people
+should be left to themselves, as Mrs. Broadhurst used so strenuously
+to advise; the recollection of whose authoritative maxims fortunately
+still operated upon Lady Clonbrony, to the great ease and advantage of
+the lovers.
+
+Happy as a lover, a friend, a son; happy in the consciousness of
+having restored a father to respectability, and persuaded a mother
+to quit the feverish joys of fashion for the pleasures of domestic
+life; happy in the hope of winning the whole heart of the woman he
+loved, and whose esteem, he knew, he possessed and deserved; happy
+in developing every day, every hour, fresh charms in his destined
+bride--we leave our hero, returning to his native country.
+
+And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that he will support
+through life the promise of his early character; that his patriotic
+views will extend with his power to carry wishes into action; that his
+attachment to his warm-hearted countrymen will still increase upon
+further acquaintance; and that he will long diffuse happiness through
+the wide circle, which is peculiarly subject to the influence and
+example of a great resident Irish proprietor.
+
+    LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT MR. MORDICAI'S,
+    COACH MAKER, LONDON.
+
+    "MY DEAR BROTHER,
+
+    "Yours of the 16th, enclosing the five pound note for my father,
+    came safe to hand Monday last; and with his thanks and blessing
+    to you, he commends it to you herewith enclosed back again, on
+    account of his being in no immediate necessity, nor likelihood to
+    want in future, as you shall hear forthwith; but wants you over
+    with all speed, and the note will answer for travelling charges;
+    for we can't enjoy the luck it has pleased God to give us, without
+    _yees_; put the rest in your pocket, and read it when you've time.
+
+    "Old Nick's gone, and St. Dennis along with him, to the place he
+    come from--praise be to God! The _ould_ lord has found him out in
+    his tricks; and I helped him to that, through the young lord that
+    I driv, as I informed you in my last, when he was a Welshman,
+    which was the best turn ever I did, though I did not know it no
+    more than Adam that time. So _Ould_ Nick's turned out of the
+    agency clean and clear; and the day after it was known, there was
+    surprising great joy through the whole country; not surprising,
+    either, but just what you might, knowing him, rasonably expect.
+    He (that is, Old Nick and St. Dennis) would have been burnt that
+    night--I _mane_, in _effigy_, through the town of Clonbrony, but
+    that the new man, Mr. Burke, came down that day too soon to stop
+    it, and said, 'it was not becoming to trample on the fallen,' or
+    something that way, that put an end to it; and though it was a
+    great disappointment to many, and to me in particular, I could not
+    but like the jantleman the better for it any how. They say he is
+    a very good jantleman, and as unlike Old Nick or the saint as can
+    be; and takes no duty fowl, nor glove, nor sealing money; nor asks
+    duty work nor duty turf. Well, when I was disappointed of the
+    _effigy_, I comforted myself by making a bonfire of Old Nick's big
+    rick of duty turf, which, by great luck, was out in the road, away
+    from all dwelling-house, or thatch, or yards, to take fire: so no
+    danger in life, or objection. And such another blaze! I wished
+    you'd seed it--and all the men, women, and children, in the town
+    and country, far and near, gathered round it, shouting and dancing
+    like mad!--and it was light as day quite across the bog, as far as
+    Hartley Finnigan's house. And I heard after, they seen it from all
+    parts of the three counties, and they thought it was St. John's
+    Eve in a mistake--or couldn't make out what it was; but all took
+    it in good part, for a good sign, and were in great joy. As for
+    St. Dennis and _Ould_ Nick, an attorney had his foot upon 'em with
+    an habere, a latitat, and three executions hanging over 'em: and
+    there's the end of rogues! and a great example in the country.
+    And--no more about it; for I can't be wasting more ink upon them
+    that don't deserve it at my hands, when I want it for them that
+    do, as you shall see. So some weeks past, and there was great
+    cleaning at Clonbrony Castle, and in the town of Clonbrony; and
+    the new agent's smart and clever: and he had the glaziers, and
+    the painters, and the slaters, up and down in the town wherever
+    wanted; and you wouldn't know it again. Thinks I, this is no bad
+    sign! Now, cock up your ears, Pat! for the great news is coming,
+    and the good. The master's come home, long life to him! and family
+    come home yesterday, all entirely! The _ould_ lord and the young
+    lord, (ay, there's the man, Paddy!) and my lady, and Miss Nugent.
+    And I driv Miss Nugent's maid and another; so I had the luck to be
+    in it along _wid_ 'em, and see all, from first to last. And first,
+    I must tell you, my young Lord Colambre remembered and noticed me
+    the minute he lit at our inn, and condescended to beckon me out of
+    the yard to him, and axed me--' Friend Larry,' says he, 'did you
+    keep your promise?'--'My oath again the whiskey, is it?' says
+    I. 'My lord, I surely did,' said I; which was true, as all the
+    country knows I never tasted a drop since. 'And I'm proud to see
+    your honour, my lord, as good as your word, too, and back again
+    among us.' So then there was a call for the horses; and no more at
+    that time passed betwix' my young lord and me, but that he pointed
+    me out to the _ould_ one, as I went off. I noticed and thanked him
+    for it in my heart, though I did not know all the good was to come
+    of it. Well, no more of myself, for the present.
+
+    "Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to the great gate of
+    the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see;
+    with the sun shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies
+    noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in
+    the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about, and
+    kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were singing,
+    and I stopped whistling, that they might hear them; but sorrow
+    bit could they hear when they got to the park gate, for there was
+    such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see--and they had
+    the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew 'em home, with
+    blessings, through the park. And, God bless 'em! when they got
+    out, they didn't go shut themselves up in the great drawing-room,
+    but went straight out to the _tir_rass, to satisfy the eyes and
+    hearts that followed them. My lady _laning_ on my young lord, and
+    Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest angel that ever you
+    set eyes on, with the finest complexion, and sweetest of smiles,
+    _laning_ upon the _ould_ lord's arm, who had his hat off, bowing
+    to all, and noticing the old tenants as he passed by name. Oh,
+    there was great gladness and tears in the midst; for joy I could
+    scarce keep from myself.
+
+    "After a turn or two upon the _tir_rass, my Lord Colambre _quit_
+    his mother's arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the
+    slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some one.
+
+    "'Is it the Widow O'Neil, my lord?' says I; 'she's yonder, with
+    the white kerchief, betwixt her son and daughter, as usual.'
+
+    "Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the _tree_
+    would stir; and then he gave _tree_ beckons with his own finger,
+    and they all _tree_ came fast enough to the bottom of the slope
+    forenent my lord: and he went down and helped the widow up, (oh,
+    he's the true jantleman!) and brought 'em all _tree_ up on the
+    _tir_rass, to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close after,
+    that I might hear, which wasn't manners, but I couldn't help
+    it. So what he said I don't well know, for I could not get near
+    enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take the
+    Widow O'Neil by the hand, and then my Lord Colambre _'troduced_
+    Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the word _namesake_, and
+    something about a check curtain; but, whatever it was, they was
+    all greatly pleased: then my Lord Colambre turned and looked for
+    Brian, who had fell back, and took him, with some commendation, to
+    my lord his father. And my lord the master said, which I didn't
+    know till after, that they should have their house and farm at the
+    _ould_ rent; and at the surprise, the widow dropped down dead; and
+    there was a cry as for ten _berrings_. 'Be qui'te,' says I, 'she's
+    only kilt for joy;' and I went and lift her up, for her son had
+    no more strength that minute than the child new born; and Grace
+    trembled like a leaf, as white as the sheet, but not long, for the
+    mother came to, and was as well as ever when I brought some water,
+    which Miss Nugent handed to her with her own hand.
+
+    "'That was always pretty and good,' said the widow, laying her
+    hand upon Miss Nugent, 'and kind and good to me and mine.'
+
+    "That minute there was music from below. The blind harper, O'Neil,
+    with his harp, that struck up 'Gracey Nugent.'
+
+    "And that finished, and my Lord Colambre smiling, with the tears
+    standing in his eyes too, and the _ould_ lord quite wiping his, I
+    ran to the _tir_rass brink to bid O'Neil play it again; but as I
+    run, I thought I heard a voice call 'Larry!'
+
+    "'Who calls Larry?' says I.
+
+    "'My Lord Colambre calls you, Larry,' says all at once; and four
+    takes me by the shoulders and spins me round. 'There's my young
+    lord calling you, Larry--run for your life.'
+
+    "So I run back for my life, and walked respectful, with my hat in
+    my hand, when I got near.
+
+    "'Put on your hat, my father desires it,' says my Lord Colambre.
+    The _ould_ lord made a sign to that purpose, but was too full
+    to speak. 'Where's your father?' continues my young lord. 'He's
+    very _ould_, my lord,' says I.--' I didn't _ax_ you how _ould_ he
+    was,' says he; 'but where is he?'--'He's behind the crowd below,
+    on account of his infirmities; he couldn't walk so fast as the
+    rest, my lord,' says I; 'but his heart is with you, if not his
+    body.'--'I must have his body too: so bring him bodily before
+    us; and this shall be your warrant for so doing,' said my lord,
+    joking: for he knows the _natur_ of us, Paddy, and how we love a
+    joke in our hearts, as well as if he had lived all his life in
+    Ireland; and by the same token will, for that _rason_, do what he
+    pleases with us, and more may be than a man twice as good, that
+    never would smile on us.
+
+    "But I'm telling you of my father. 'I've a warrant for you,
+    father,' says I; 'and must have you bodily before the justice, and
+    my lord chief justice.' So he changed colour a bit at first; but
+    he saw me smile. 'And I've done no sin,' said he; 'and, Larry, you
+    may lead me now, as you led me all my life.'
+
+    "And up the slope he went with me as light as fifteen; and when we
+    got up, my Lord Clonbrony said, 'I am sorry an old tenant, and a
+    good old tenant, as I hear you were, should have been turned out
+    of your farm.'
+
+    "'Don't fret, it's no great matter, my lord,' said my father. 'I
+    shall be soon out of the way; but if you would be so kind to speak
+    a word for my boy here, and that I could afford, while the life is
+    in me, to bring my other boy back out of banishment.'
+
+    "'Then,' says my Lord Clonbrony, 'I'll give you and your sons
+    three lives, or thirty-one years, from this day, of your former
+    farm. Return to it when you please. And,' added my Lord Clonbrony,
+    'the flaggers, I hope, will be soon banished.' Oh, how could
+    I thank him--not a word could I proffer--but I know I clasped
+    my two hands, and prayed for him inwardly. And my father was
+    dropping down on his knees, but the master would not let him; and
+    _obsarved_ that posture should only be for his God. And, sure
+    enough, in that posture, when he was out of sight, we did pray for
+    him that night, and will all our days.
+
+    "But, before we quit his presence, he called me back, and bid me
+    write to my brother, and bring you back, if you've no objections,
+    to your own country.
+
+    "So come, my dear Pat, and make no delay, for joy's not joy
+    compl_a_te till you're in it--my father sends his blessing, and
+    Peggy her love. The family entirely is to settle for good in
+    Ireland, and there was in the castle yard last night a bonfire
+    made by my lord's orders of the _ould_ yellow damask furniture, to
+    plase my lady, my lord says. And the drawing-room, the butler was
+    telling me, is new hung; and the chairs with velvet as white as
+    snow, and shaded over with natural flowers by Miss Nugent. Oh! how
+    I hope what I guess will come true, and I've _rason_ to believe it
+    will, for I dreamt in my bed last night it did. But keep yourself
+    to yourself--that Miss Nugent (who is no more Miss Nugent, they
+    say, but Miss Reynolds, and has a new-found grandfather, and is a
+    big heiress, which she did not want in my eyes, nor in my young
+    lord's), I've a notion, will be sometime, and may be sooner
+    than is expected, my Lady Viscountess Colambre--so haste to the
+    wedding. And there's another thing: they say the rich _ould_
+    grandfather's coming over;--and another thing, Pat, you would not
+    be out of the fashion--and you see it's growing the fashion not to
+    be an Absentee.
+
+    "Your loving brother,
+
+    "LARRY BRADY."
+
+1812.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE FLEURY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+  "There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
+  The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall.
+  How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?"--POPE.
+
+
+"D'abord, madame, c'est impossible!--Madame ne descendra pas
+ici?[1]" said Francois, the footman of Mad. de Fleury, with a half
+expostulatory, half indignant look, as he let down the step of her
+carriage at the entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the
+most miserable-looking houses in Paris.
+
+[Footnote 1: In the first place, my lady, it is impossible! Surely my
+lady will not get out of her carriage here?]
+
+"But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this house?"
+said Mad. de Fleury.
+
+"'Tis only some child, who is crying," replied Francois: and he would
+have put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.
+
+"'Tis nothing in the world," continued he, with a look of appeal to
+the coachman, "it _can_ be nothing, but some children, who are locked
+up there above. The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at
+home, that's certain."
+
+"I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children,"
+said Mad. de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.
+
+Francois held his arm for his lady as she got out.
+
+"Bon!" cried he, with an air of vexation. "Si madame la veut
+absolument, a la bonne heure!--Mais madame sera abimee. Madame
+verra que j'ai raison. Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier.
+D'ailleurs c'est an cinquieme. Mais, madame, c'est impossible."[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: To be sure it must be as my lady pleases--but my lady
+will find it terribly dirty!--my Lady will find I was right--my lady
+will never get up that shocking staircase--it is impossible!]
+
+Notwithstanding the impossibility, Mad. de Fleury proceeded; and
+bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the
+dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every
+instant, till, as she reached the fifth story, she heard the shrieks
+of one in violent pain. She hastened to the door of the room from
+which the cries proceeded; the door was fastened, and the noise was
+so great, that though she knocked as loud as she was able, she could
+not immediately make herself heard. At last the voice of a child from
+within answered, "The door is locked--mamma has the key in her pocket,
+and won't be home till night; and here's Victoire has tumbled from the
+top of the big press, and it is she that is shrieking so."
+
+Mad. de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so
+much difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
+despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from
+some people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door
+of the room in which the children were confined.
+
+On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly that
+he did not hear the screams of the children. When his door was pushed
+open, and the bright vision of Mad. de Fleury appeared to him, his
+astonishment was so great that he seemed incapable of comprehending
+what she said. In a strong provincial accent he repeated,
+"_Plait-il?_" and stood aghast till she had explained herself three
+times: then suddenly exclaiming, "Ah! c'est ca!"--he collected his
+tools precipitately, and followed to obey her orders. The door of
+the room was at last forced half open, for a press that had been
+overturned prevented its opening entirely. The horrible smells that
+issued did not overcome Mad. de Fleury's humanity: she squeezed her
+way into the room, and behind the fallen press saw three little
+children: the youngest, almost an infant, ceased roaring, and ran
+to a corner: the eldest, a boy of about eight years old, whose face
+and clothes were covered with blood, held on his knee a girl younger
+than himself, whom he was trying to pacify, but who struggled most
+violently, and screamed incessantly, regardless of Mad. de Fleury, to
+whose questions she made no answer.
+
+"Where are you hurt, my dear?" repeated Mad. de Fleury in a soothing
+voice. "Only tell me where you feel pain?"
+
+The boy, showing his sister's arm, said, in a surly tone--"It is this
+that is hurt--but it was not I did it."
+
+"It was, it _was_," cried the girl as loud as she could vociferate:
+"it was Maurice threw me down from the top of the press."
+
+"No--it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you fell
+backwards.--Have done screeching, and show your arm to the lady."
+
+"I can't," said the girl.
+
+"She won't," said the boy.
+
+"She _cannot_," said Mad. de Fleury, kneeling down to examine it. "She
+cannot move it: I am afraid that it is broken."
+
+"Don't touch it! don't touch it!" cried the girl, screaming more
+violently.
+
+"Ma'am, she screams that way for nothing often," said the boy. "Her
+arm is no more broke than mine, I'm sure; she'll move it well enough
+when she's not cross."
+
+"I am afraid," said Mad. de Fleury, "that her arm is broken."
+
+"Is it indeed?" said the boy, with a look of terror.
+
+"Oh! don't touch it--you'll kill me, you are killing me," screamed the
+poor girl, whilst Mad. de Fleury with the greatest care endeavoured
+to join the bones in their proper place, and resolved to hold the arm
+till the arrival of the surgeon.
+
+From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have
+expected such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and
+graceful delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or
+affectation, which incapacitates from being useful in real distress.
+In most sudden accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female
+resolution and presence of mind are indispensably requisite: safety,
+health, and life, often depend upon the fortitude of women. Happy
+they, who, like Mad. de Fleury, possess strength of mind united with
+the utmost gentleness of manner and tenderness of disposition!
+
+Soothed by this lady's sweet voice, the child's rage subsided; and
+no longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly on her lap,
+sometimes writhing and moaning with pain.
+
+The surgeon at length arrived: her arm was set: and he said, "that she
+had probably been saved much future pain by Mad. de Fleury's presence
+of mind."
+
+"Sir,--will it soon be well?" said Maurice to the surgeon.
+
+"Oh, yes, very soon, I dare say," said the little girl. "To-morrow,
+perhaps; for now that it is tied up, it does not hurt me to
+signify--and after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not you threw me
+down."
+
+As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.--"That is
+right," said Mad. de Fleury; "there is a good sister."
+
+The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the boy
+turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the back of
+his hand.
+
+"I am not cross now: am I, Maurice?" said she.
+
+"No, Victoire, I was cross myself when I said _that_."
+
+As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet. Mad.
+de Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had cleared it of
+the things with which it was covered; and as they were spreading the
+ragged blanket over the little girl, she whispered a request to Mad.
+de Fleury, that she would "stay till her mamma came home, to beg
+Maurice off from being whipped, if mamma should be angry."
+
+Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the desolate
+condition of these children, Mad. de Fleury complied with Victoire's
+request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother for leaving them
+locked up in this manner. They did not know to what part of the town
+their mother was gone; they could tell only, "that she was to go to
+a great many different places to carry back work, and to bring home
+more; and that she expected to be in by five." It was now half after
+four.
+
+Whilst Mad. de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full
+account of the manner in which the accident had happened.
+
+"Why, ma'am," said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged
+handkerchief as he spoke, "the first beginning of all the mischief
+was, we had nothing to do; so we went to the ashes to make dirt pies:
+but Babet would go so close that she burnt her petticoat, and threw
+about all our ashes, and plagued us, and we whipped her: but all would
+not do, she would not be quiet; so to get out of her reach, we climbed
+up by this chair on the table to the top of the press, and there we
+were well enough for a little while, till somehow we began to quarrel
+about the old scissors, and we struggled hard for them till I got this
+cut."
+
+Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
+wound, which he had never mentioned before.
+
+"Then," continued he, "when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and she
+pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot slipped,
+and down she fell; and caught by the press-door, and pulled it and me
+after her, and that's all I know."
+
+"It is well that you were not both killed," said Mad. de Fleury. "Are
+you often left locked up in this manner by yourselves, and without any
+thing to do?"
+
+"Yes, always, when mamma is abroad--except sometimes we are let out
+upon the stairs, or in the street; but mamma says we get into mischief
+there."
+
+This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother. She came up
+stairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under her arm.
+
+"How now! Maurice, how comes my door open? What's all this?" cried
+she, in an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting upon her child's
+bed, she stopped short in great astonishment. Mad. de Fleury related
+what had happened, and averted her anger from Maurice, by gently
+expostulating upon the hardship and hazard of leaving her young
+children in this manner during so many hours of the day.
+
+"Why, my lady," replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead, "every
+hard-working woman in Paris does the same with her children; and what
+can I do else? I must earn bread for these helpless ones, and to do
+that I must be out backwards and forwards, and to the furthest parts
+of the town, often from morning till night, with those that employ me;
+and I cannot afford to send the children to school, or to keep any
+kind of a servant to look after them; and when I'm away, if I let
+them run about these stairs and entries, or go into the streets, they
+do get a little exercise and air to be sure, such as it is; on which
+account I do let them out sometimes; but then a deal of mischief comes
+of that, too--they learn all kinds of wickedness, and would grow up to
+be no better than pickpockets, if they were let often to consort with
+the little vagabonds they find in the streets. So what to do better
+for them I don't know."
+
+The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire,
+and wept bitterly. Mad. de Fleury was struck with compassion: but she
+did not satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort, or by the
+easy donation of some money--she resolved to do something more, and
+something better.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+  "Come often, then; for haply in my bow'r
+  Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may'st gain:
+  If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain."
+
+  BEATTIE.
+
+
+It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it may
+imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere instinct
+of pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils more
+pernicious to society than any which they partially remedy. "Warm
+Charity, the general friend," may become the general enemy, unless she
+consults her head as well as her heart. Whilst she pleases herself
+with the idea that she daily feeds hundreds of the poor, she is
+perhaps preparing want and famine for thousands. Whilst she delights
+herself with the anticipation of gratitude for her bounties, she is
+often exciting only unreasonable expectations, inducing habits of
+dependence, and submission to slavery.
+
+Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom they
+may receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and numbers can
+afford.
+
+Mad. de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition nor a
+large fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real service,
+without the constant exercise of her judgment. She had therefore
+listened with deference to the conversation of well-informed men upon
+those subjects on which ladies have not always the means or the wish
+to acquire extensive and accurate knowledge. Though a Parisian belle,
+she had read with attention some of those books which are generally
+thought too dry or too deep for her sex. Consequently her benevolence
+was neither wild in theory, nor precipitate nor ostentatious in
+practice.
+
+Touched with compassion for a little girl, whose arm had been
+accidentally broken, and shocked by the discovery of the confinement
+and the dangers to which numbers of children in Paris were doomed,
+she did not make a parade of her sensibility. She did not talk of her
+feelings in fine sentences to a circle of opulent admirers, nor did
+she project for the relief of the little sufferers some magnificent
+establishment, which she could not execute or superintend. She was
+contented with attempting only what she had reasonable hopes of
+accomplishing.
+
+The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than
+the gift of money to the poor; as it ensures the means both of
+future subsistence and happiness. But the application even of
+this incontrovertible principle requires caution and judgment. To
+crowd numbers of children into a place called a school, to abandon
+them to the management of any person called a schoolmaster or a
+schoolmistress, is not sufficient to secure the blessings of a good
+education. Mad. de Fleury was sensible that the greatest care is
+necessary in the choice of the person to whom young children are to
+be intrusted: she knew that only a certain number can be properly
+directed by one superintendent; and that by attempting to do too much,
+she might do nothing, or worse than nothing. Her school was formed,
+therefore, on a small scale, which she could enlarge to any extent,
+if it should be found to succeed. From some of the families of poor
+people, who in earning their bread are obliged to spend most of the
+day from home, she selected twelve little girls, of whom Victoire was
+the eldest, and she was between six and seven.
+
+The person under whose care Mad. de Fleury wished to place these
+children was a nun of the _Soeurs de la Charite_, with whose
+simplicity of character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper, she was
+thoroughly acquainted. Sister Frances was delighted with the plan. Any
+scheme that promised to be of service to her fellow-creatures was sure
+of meeting with her approbation; but this suited her taste peculiarly,
+because she was extremely fond of children. No young person had ever
+boarded six months at her convent without becoming attached to good
+Sister Frances.
+
+The period of which we are writing was some years before convents were
+abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many instances
+been considerably relaxed. Without much difficulty, permission was
+obtained from the abbess for our nun to devote her time during the day
+to the care of these poor children, upon condition that she should
+regularly return to her convent every night before evening prayers.
+The house which Mad. de Fleury chose for her little school was in an
+airy part of the town; it did not face the street, but was separated
+from other buildings at the back of a court, retired from noise and
+bustle. The two rooms intended for the occupation of the children
+were neat and clean, but perfectly simple, with whitewashed walls,
+furnished only with wooden stools and benches, and plain deal tables.
+The kitchen was well lighted (for light is essential to cleanliness),
+and it was provided with utensils; and for these appropriate places
+were allotted, to give the habit and the taste of order. The
+school-room opened into a garden larger than is usually seen in towns.
+The nun, who had been accustomed to purchase provisions for her
+convent, undertook to prepare daily for the children breakfast and
+dinner; they were to sup and sleep at their respective homes. Their
+parents were to take them to Sister Frances every morning, when they
+went out to work, and to call for them upon their return home every
+evening. By this arrangement, the natural ties of affection and
+intimacy between the children and their parents would not be loosened;
+they would be separate only at the time when their absence must be
+inevitable. Mad. de Fleury thought that any education which estranges
+children entirely from their parents must be fundamentally erroneous;
+that such a separation must tend to destroy that sense of filial
+affection and duty, and those principles of domestic subordination, on
+which so many of the interests, and much of the virtue and happiness,
+of society depend. The parents of these poor children were eager to
+trust them to her care, and they strenuously endeavoured to promote
+what they perceived to be entirely to their advantage. They promised
+to take their daughters to school punctually every morning--a promise
+which was likely to be kept, as a good breakfast was to be ready at a
+certain hour, and not to wait for any body. The parents looked forward
+with pleasure also to the idea of calling for their little girls at
+the end of their day's labour, and of taking them home to their family
+supper. During the intermediate hours, the children were constantly
+to be employed, or in exercise. It was difficult to provide suitable
+employments for their early age; but even the youngest of those
+admitted could be taught to wind balls of cotton, thread, and silk,
+for haberdashers; or they could shell peas and beans, &c. for a
+neighbouring _traiteur_; or they could weed in a garden. The next
+in age could learn knitting and plain-work, reading, writing, and
+arithmetic. As the girls should grow up, they were to be made useful
+in the care of the house. Sister Frances said she could teach them
+to wash and iron, and that she would make them as skilful in cookery
+as she was herself. This last was doubtless a rash promise; for in
+most of the mysteries of the culinary art, especially in the medical
+branches of it, in making savoury messes palatable to the sick, few
+could hope to equal the neat-handed Sister Frances. She had a variety
+of other accomplishments; but her humility and good sense forbade
+her, upon the present occasion, to mention these. She said nothing of
+embroidery, or of painting, or of cutting out paper, or of carving in
+ivory, though in all these she excelled: her cuttings-out in paper
+were exquisite as the finest lace; her embroidered housewives, and
+her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts, and her curiously wrought
+ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest reputation in the
+convent, amongst the best judges in the world. Those only who have
+philosophically studied and thoroughly understand the nature of fame
+and vanity can justly appreciate the self-denial, or magnanimity, of
+Sister Frances, in forbearing to enumerate or boast of these things.
+She alluded to them but once, and in the slightest and most humble
+manner.
+
+"These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching them
+any thing but plain-work at present; but if hereafter any of them
+should show a superior genius, we can cultivate it properly! Heaven
+has been pleased to endow me with the means--at least our convent says
+so."
+
+The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her words;
+for though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new dwelling with
+those specimens of her skill, which had long been the glory of her
+apartment in the convent, yet she resisted the impulse, and contented
+herself with hanging over the chimney-piece of her school-room a
+Madonna of her own painting.
+
+The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new
+habitation. When the children entered the room for the first time,
+they paid the Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration.
+Involuntarily the little crowd stopped short at the sight of
+the picture. Some dormant emotions of human vanity were now
+awakened--played for a moment about the heart of Sister Frances--and
+may be forgiven. Her vanity was innocent and transient, her
+benevolence permanent and useful. Repressing the vain-glory of an
+artist, as she fixed her eyes upon the Madonna, her thoughts rose to
+higher objects, and she seized this happy moment to impress upon the
+minds of her young pupils their first religious ideas and feelings.
+There was such unaffected piety in her manner, such goodness in her
+countenance, such persuasion in her voice, and simplicity in her
+words, that the impression she made was at once serious, pleasing,
+and not to be effaced. Much depends upon the moment and the manner in
+which the first notions of religion are communicated to children: if
+these ideas be connected with terror, and produced when the mind is
+sullen or in a state of dejection, the future religious feelings are
+sometimes of a gloomy, dispiriting sort; but if the first impression
+be made when the heart is expanded by hope or touched by affection,
+these emotions are happily and permanently associated with religion.
+This should be particularly attended to by those who undertake the
+instruction of the children of the poor, who must lead a life of
+labour, and can seldom have leisure or inclination when arrived at
+years of discretion, to re-examine the principles early infused into
+their minds. They cannot in their riper age conquer by reason those
+superstitious terrors, or bigoted prejudices, which render their
+victims miserable or perhaps criminal. To attempt to rectify any
+errors in the foundation after an edifice has been constructed, is
+dangerous: the foundation, therefore, should be laid with care. The
+religious opinions of Sister Frances were strictly united with just
+rules of morality, strongly enforcing, as the essential means of
+obtaining present and future happiness, the practice of the social
+virtues; so that no good or wise persons, however they might differ
+from her in modes of faith, could doubt the beneficial influence of
+her general principles, or disapprove of the manner in which they were
+inculcated.
+
+Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun
+devoted all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had
+undertaken the charge. She watched over them with unceasing vigilance,
+whilst diffidence of her own abilities was happily supported by her
+high opinion of Mad. de Fleury's judgment. This lady constantly
+visited her pupils every week; not in the hasty, negligent manner in
+which fine ladies sometimes visit charitable institutions, imagining
+that the honour of their presence is to work miracles, and that every
+thing will go on rightly when they have said, "_Let it be so_," or,
+"_I must have it so_." Mad. de Fleury's visits were not of this
+dictatorial or cursory nature. Not minutes, but hours, she devoted
+to these children--she who could charm by the grace of her manners,
+and delight by the elegance of her conversation, the most polished
+circles[1] and the best-informed societies of Paris, preferred to the
+glory of being admired the pleasure of being useful--
+
+  "Her life, as lovely as her face,
+  Each duty mark'd with every grace;
+  Her native sense improved by reading,
+  Her native sweetness by good-breeding."
+
+[Footnote 1: It was of this lady that Marmontel said--"She has the art
+of making the most common thoughts appear new, and the most uncommon
+simple, by the elegance and clearness of her expressions."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+  "Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
+  But if that pride it be, which thus inspires,
+  Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
+  Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."
+
+  SHENSTONE.
+
+
+By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute _reports_
+of Sister Frances, Mad. de Fleury soon became acquainted with the
+habits and temper of each individual in this little society. The most
+intelligent and the most amiable of these children was Victoire.
+Whence her superiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally
+more vivacious than those of her companions, or whether they had been
+more early developed by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to
+determine, lest we should involve ourselves in the intricate question
+respecting natural genius--a metaphysical point, which we shall
+not in this place stop to discuss. Till the world has an accurate
+philosophical dictionary (a work not to be expected in less than half
+a dozen centuries), this question will never be decided to general
+satisfaction. In the mean time, we may proceed with our story.
+
+Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness
+that Mad. de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and
+her gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic _fondness_
+of childhood. Whenever she spoke or heard of Mad. de Fleury, her
+countenance became interested, and animated, in a degree that would
+have astonished a cool English spectator. Every morning her first
+question to Sister Frances was--"Will _she_ come to-day?"--If Mad.
+de Fleury was expected, the hours and the minutes were counted, and
+the sand in the hourglass that stood on the school-room table was
+frequently shaken. The moment she appeared, Victoire ran to her, and
+was silent; satisfied with standing close beside her, holding her gown
+when unperceived, and watching, as she spoke and moved, every turn
+of her countenance. Delighted by these marks of sensibility, Sister
+Frances would have praised the child, but was warned by Mad. de Fleury
+to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lest she should teach her
+affectation.
+
+"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her," said
+Sister Frances.
+
+Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two
+months the poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not
+venture to play with her companions. At their hours of recreation, she
+used to sit on the school-room steps, looking down into the garden at
+the scene of merriment, in which she could not partake.
+
+For those who know how to find it, there is good in every thing.
+Sister Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her
+work, and sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite
+idle, listened with eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances
+read, or watched with interest the progress of her work: soon she
+longed to imitate what she saw done with so much pleasure, and begged
+to be taught to work and read. By degrees she learned her alphabet;
+and could soon, to the amazement of her schoolfellows, read the names
+of all the animals in Sister Frances' _picture-book_. No matter how
+trifling the thing done, or the knowledge acquired, a great point is
+gained by giving the desire for employment. Children frequently become
+industrious from impatience of the pains and penalties of idleness.
+Count Rumford showed that he understood childish nature perfectly
+well, when, in his House of Industry at Munich, he compelled the young
+children to sit for some time idle in a gallery round the hall, where
+others a little older than themselves were busied at work. During
+Victoire's state of idle convalescence, she acquired the desire to be
+employed, and she consequently soon became more industrious than her
+neighbours. Succeeding in her first efforts, she was praised--was
+pleased, and persevered till she became an example of activity to her
+companions. But Victoire, though now nearly seven years old, was not
+quite perfect. Naturally, or accidentally, she was very passionate,
+and not a little self-willed.
+
+One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the
+banister of the flight of stairs leading from the school-room to the
+garden, she called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring
+them to stand out of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom. At
+this moment Sister Frances came to the school-room door, and forbade
+the feat: but Victoire, regardless of all prohibition, slid down
+instantly, and moreover was going to repeat the glorious operation,
+when Sister Frances, catching hold of her arm, pointed to a heap
+of sharp stones that lay on the ground upon the other side of the
+banisters.
+
+"I am not afraid," said Victoire.
+
+"But if you fall there, you may break your arm again."
+
+"And if I do I can bear it," said Victoire. "Let me go, pray let me
+go: I must do it."
+
+"No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again!--Babet, and all
+the little ones, would follow your example, and perhaps break their
+necks."
+
+The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount:
+but she was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon
+compulsion. Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her
+might; she kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked; but at last
+her feet were taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one
+hand, with the other she brandished high the little whip.
+
+"What!" said the mild nun, "would you strike me with that _arm_?"
+
+The arm dropped instantly--Victoire recollected Mad. de Fleury's
+kindness the day when the arm was broken: dismounting immediately,
+she threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young
+spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances. For the rest of the
+day she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of
+her contrition were visible during the remainder of the week.
+
+Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience
+by touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse
+to this expedient in all perilous cases: but one day, when she was
+boasting of the infallible operation of her charm, Mad. de Fleury
+advised her to forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should
+wear out the sensibility she so much loved. In consequence of this
+counsel, Victoire's violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force,
+and sometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling
+of gratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle. The hope
+of reward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than the
+fear of punishment; and Mad. de Fleury devised rewards with as much
+ability as some legislators invent punishments.
+
+Victoire's brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own
+bread, had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who
+worked in the house where his mother lodged. This most ardent wish
+of his soul he had imparted to his sister: and she consulted her
+benefactress, whom she considered as all-powerful in this, as in every
+other affair.
+
+"Your brother's wish shall be gratified," replied Mad. de Fleury, "if
+you can keep your temper one month. If you are never in a passion
+for a whole month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound
+apprentice to his friend the smith. To your companions, to Sister
+Frances, and above all to yourself, I trust, to make me a just report
+this day month."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+  "You she preferr'd to all the gay resorts,
+  Where female vanity might wish to shine,
+  The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts."
+
+  LYTTELTON.
+
+
+At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
+herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
+deserved her reward. Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire's temper
+never relapsed into its former bad habits--so powerful is the effect
+of a well-chosen motive!--Perhaps the historian may be blamed for
+dwelling on such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to
+the conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened
+without disdain to these simple annals. Nothing appeared to her a
+trifle that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty,
+order, and industry;--habits which are to be early induced, not by
+solemn precepts, but by practical lessons. A few more examples of
+these shall be recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
+
+One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was
+coming to school, an old woman, sitting at a corner of the street,
+beside a large black brazier full of roasted chestnuts. Babet thought
+that the chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old woman was
+talking earnestly to some people, who were on her other side; Babet
+filled her work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and
+sister, who, having turned the corner of the street, had not seen what
+passed. When Babet came to the school-room, she opened her bag with
+triumph, displayed her treasure, and offered to divide it with her
+companions. "Here, Victoire," said she, "here is the largest chestnut
+for you."
+
+But Victoire would not take it; for she said that Babet had no
+money, and that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts.
+She spoke so forcibly upon this point, that even those who had the
+tempting morsel actually at their lips, forbore to bite; those who had
+bitten laid down their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands
+full of chestnuts, rolled them, back again towards the bag, Babet
+cried with vexation.
+
+"I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won't eat
+them!--And I must not eat them!" said she: then curbing her passion,
+she added, "But at any rate, I won't be a thief. I am sure I did not
+think it was being a thief just to, take a few chestnuts from an old
+woman, who had such heaps and heaps: but Victoire says it is wrong,
+and I would not be a thief for all the chestnuts in the world--I'll
+throw them all into the fire this minute!"
+
+"No; give them back again to the old woman," said Victoire.
+
+"But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them," said Babet;
+"or who knows but she might whip me?"
+
+"And if she did, could not you bear it?" said Victoire: "I am sure I
+would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief."
+
+"Twenty whippings! that's a great many," said Babet; "and I am so
+little, consider--and that woman has such a monstrous arm!--Now, if it
+was Sister Frances, it would be another thing. But come! if you will
+go with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave."
+
+"We will all go with you," said Victoire.
+
+"Yes, all!" said the children; "and Sister Frances, I dare say, would
+go, if you asked her."
+
+Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the
+little penitent to make restitution. The chestnut woman did not whip
+Babet, nor even scold her; but said she was sure, that since the child
+was so honest as to return what she had taken, she would never steal
+again. This was the most _glorious_ day of Babet's life, and the
+happiest. When the circumstance was told to Mad. de Fleury, she gave
+the little girl a bag of the best chestnuts the old woman could
+select, and Babet with great delight shared her reward with her
+companions.
+
+"But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted. Oh, if we could but roast
+them!" said the children.
+
+Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table, on which the
+chestnuts were spread, a small earthenware furnace--a delightful toy,
+commonly used by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.
+
+"This can be bought for sixpence," said she: "and if each of you
+twelve earn one halfpenny a-piece to-day, you can purchase it
+to-night, and I will put a little fire into it, and you will then he
+able to roast your chestnuts."
+
+The children ran eagerly to their work--some to wind worsted for a
+woman who paid them a _liard_ for each ball, others to shell peas
+for a neighbouring _traiteur_--all rejoicing that they were able to
+earn _something_. The elder girls, under the directions and with the
+assistance of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and ironing,
+half a dozen little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse. At the end
+of the day, when the sum of the produce of their labours was added
+together, they were surprised to find, that, instead of one, they
+could purchase two furnaces. They received and enjoyed the reward of
+their united industry. The success of their first efforts was fixed
+in their memory: for they were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and
+they were all (Sister Frances inclusive) unanimous in opinion that
+no chestnuts ever were so good, or so well roasted. Sister Frances
+always partook in their little innocent amusements; and it was her
+great delight to be the dispenser of rewards, which at once conferred
+present pleasure, and cherished future virtue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+  "To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
+  And bid the tear of emulation start."--ROGERS.
+
+
+Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of the
+amiable nun, became every day more dear to her. Far from having the
+selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public notice
+the good actions of her companions. "Stoop down your ear to me, Sister
+Frances," said she, "and I will tell you a secret--I will tell you why
+my friend Annette is growing so thin--I found it out this morning--she
+does not eat above half her soup everyday. Look, there's her porringer
+covered up in the corner--she carries it home to her mother, who is
+sick, and who has not bread to eat."
+
+Mad. de Fleury came in, whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down to
+hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered
+that a certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day
+to carry to her mother during her illness.
+
+"I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am sure
+it will never be forgotten. Here is an order for you upon my baker:
+run and show it to Annette. This is a pleasure you deserve; I am glad
+that you have chosen for your friend a girl who is so good a daughter.
+Good daughters make good friends."
+
+By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love
+and confidence of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest
+superiority. In their turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits;
+and, as Sister Frances and Mad. de Fleury administered justice with
+invariable impartiality, the hateful passions of envy and jealousy
+were never excited in this little society. No servile sycophant, no
+malicious detractor, could rob or defraud their little virtues of
+their due reward.
+
+"Whom shall I trust to take this to Mad. de Fleury?" said Sister
+Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were playing a
+pot of fine jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.--"These
+are the first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never
+beheld! Whom shall I trust to take them to Mad. de Fleury this
+evening?--It must be some one who will not stop to stare about on the
+way, but who will be very, very careful--some one in whom I can place
+perfect dependence."
+
+"It must be Victoire, then," cried every voice.
+
+"Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly," said Annette, eagerly;
+"because she was not angry with Babet, when she did what was enough to
+put any body in a passion. Sister Frances, you know this cherry-tree
+which you grafted for Victoire last year, and that was yesterday so
+full of blossoms--now you see, there is not a blossom left!--Babet
+plucked them all this morning to make a nosegay."
+
+"But she did not know," said Victoire, "that pulling off the blossoms
+would prevent my having any cherries."
+
+"Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish," said Babet; "Victoire did not
+even say a cross word to me."
+
+"Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries," pursued
+Annette, "because she intended to have given the first she had to Mad.
+de Fleury."
+
+"Victoire, take the jonquils--it is but just," said Sister Frances.
+"How I do love to hear them all praise her!--I knew what she would be
+from the first."
+
+With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry them
+with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way. She set out
+to Mad. de Fleury's hotel, which was in _La Place de Louis Quinze_.
+It was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting, and as Victoire
+crossed the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to look at the reflection
+of the lamps in the water, which appeared in succession, as they were
+lighted, spreading as if by magic along the river. While Victoire
+leaned over the battlements of the bridge, watching the rising of
+these stars of fire, a sudden push from the elbow of some rude
+passenger precipitated her pot of jonquils into the Seine. The sound
+it made in the water was thunder to the ear of Victoire; she stood
+for an instant vainly hoping it would rise again, but the waters had
+closed over it for ever.
+
+  "Dans cet etat affreux, que faire?
+  Mon devoir."
+
+Victoire courageously proceeded to Mad. de Fleury's, and desired to
+see her.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible--madame is dressing to go to a concert;"
+said Francois. "Cannot you leave your message?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Victoire; "it is of great consequence--I must see _her_
+myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur Francois, that I am
+sure you will not refuse."
+
+"Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which I
+dropped at your school-room door--one good turn deserves another.
+If it is possible, it shall be done--I will inquire of madame's
+woman."--"Follow me up stairs," said he, returning in a few minutes;
+"madame will see you."
+
+She followed him Up the large staircase, and through a suite of
+apartments sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.
+
+"Madame est dans son cabinet. Entrez--mais entrez done, entrez
+toujours."
+
+Mad. de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image was
+reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment
+Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the
+lady she wanted.
+
+"Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?"
+
+"Oh, it is her voice!--I know you now, madame, and I am not
+afraid--not afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been. Sister
+Frances trusted me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of
+jonquils, and she desired me not to stop on the way to stare; but
+I did stop to look at the lamps on the bridge, and I forgot the
+jonquils, and somebody brushed by me, and threw them into the
+river--and I am very sorry I was so foolish."
+
+"And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth, without
+attempting to make any paltry excuses. Go home to Sister Frances, and
+assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you such an honest
+girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils."
+
+Victoire's heart was so full that she could not speak--she kissed
+Mad. de Fleury's hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in
+contemplation of her bracelet.
+
+"Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier, if you
+had such bracelets as these?--Believe me, you are mistaken if you
+think so; many people are unhappy, who wear fine bracelets; so, my
+child, content yourself."
+
+"Myself! Oh, madam, I was not thinking of myself--I was not wishing
+for bracelets, I was only thinking that--"
+
+"That what?"
+
+"That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have every thing in this
+world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to _you_--all
+my life I shall never be able to do _you_ any good--and what,"
+said Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, "what signifies the
+gratitude of such a poor little creature as I am?"
+
+"Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?"
+
+"No, madam--never!"
+
+"Then I will tell it to you."
+
+Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation--Francois opened
+the door to announce that the Marquis de M---- and the Comte de S----
+were in the saloon; but Mad. de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire her
+fable--she would not lose the opportunity of making an impression upon
+this child's heart.
+
+It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be
+made. Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and the
+fate of a child. In this respect what advantages have the rich and
+great in educating the children of the poor! they have the power which
+their rank, and all its decorations, obtain over the imagination.
+Their smiles are favours; their words are listened to as oracular;
+they are looked up to as beings of a superior order. Their powers of
+working good are almost as great, though not quite so wonderful, as
+those formerly attributed to beneficent fairies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+  "Knowledge for them unlocks her _useful_ page,
+  And virtue blossoms for a better age."--BARBAULD.
+
+
+A few days after Mad. de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of the
+lion and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire
+had put the fable into verse. It was wonderfully well done for a child
+of nine years old, and Mad. de Fleury was tempted to praise the lines;
+but, checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered whether
+it would be advantageous to cultivate her pupil's talent for poetry.
+Excellence in the poetic art cannot be obtained without a degree of
+application for which a girl in her situation could not have leisure.
+To encourage her to become a mere rhyming scribbler, without any
+chance of obtaining celebrity or securing subsistence, would be folly
+and cruelty. Early prodigies, in the lower ranks of life, are seldom
+permanently successful; they are cried up one day, and cried down the
+next. Their productions rarely have that superiority which secures
+a fair preference in the great literary market. Their performances
+are, perhaps, said to be--_wonderful, all things considered_,
+&c. Charitable allowances are made; the books are purchased by
+associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons; a kind of
+forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and delusive.
+In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection, nothing but
+what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when it must be
+purchased. But granting that positive excellence is attained, there
+is always danger that for works of fancy the taste of the public may
+suddenly vary; there is a fashion in these things; and when the mode
+changes, the mere literary manufacturer is thrown out of employment;
+he is unable to turn his hand to another trade, or to any but his own
+peculiar branch of the business. The powers of the mind are often
+partially cultivated in these self-taught geniuses. We often see that
+one part of their understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the
+rest--the imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment:
+so that, whilst they have acquired talents for show, they have none
+for use. In the affairs of common life, they are utterly ignorant and
+imbecile--or worse than imbecile. Early called into public notice,
+probably before their moral habits are formed, they are extolled for
+some play of fancy or of wit, as Bacon calls it, some _juggler's trick
+of the intellect_; they immediately take an aversion to plodding
+labour, they feel raised above their situation; _possessed_ by the
+notion that genius exempts them, not only from labour, but from vulgar
+rules of prudence, they soon disgrace themselves by their conduct,
+are deserted by their patrons, and sink into despair, or plunge into
+profligacy.[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: To these observations there are honourable exceptions.]
+
+Convinced of these melancholy truths, Mad. de Fleury was determined
+not to add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons,
+who sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness
+of their favourites. Victoire's verses were not handed about in
+fashionable circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before a
+brilliant audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she
+was educated in private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good,
+useful, and happy member of society. Upon the same principles which
+decided Mad. de Fleury against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess,
+she refrained from giving any of her little pupils accomplishments
+unsuited to their situation. Some had a fine ear for music, others
+showed powers of dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor
+music--talents which in their station were more likely to be dangerous
+than serviceable. They were not intended for actresses or opera-girls,
+but for shop-girls, mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of
+different sorts; consequently they were instructed in things which
+would be most necessary and useful to young women in their rank of
+life. Before they were ten years old, they could do all kinds of plain
+needlework, they could read and write well, and they were mistresses
+of the common rules of arithmetic. After this age, they were practised
+by a writing-master in drawing out bills neatly, keeping accounts, and
+applying to every-day use their knowledge of arithmetic. Some were
+taught by a laundress to wash, and _get up_ fine linen and lace;
+others were instructed by a neighbouring _traiteur_ in those culinary
+mysteries with which Sister Frances was unacquainted. In sweetmeats
+and confectionaries she yielded to no one; and she made her pupils
+as expert as herself. Those who were intended for ladies' maids were
+taught mantua-making, and had lessons from Mad. de Fleury's own woman
+in hair-dressing.
+
+Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
+shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Mad. de Fleury
+had means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably and
+advantageously: of this both they and their parents were aware, so
+that there was a constant and great motive operating continually to
+induce them to exert themselves, and to behave well. This reasonable
+hope of reaping the fruits of their education, and of being
+immediately rewarded for their good conduct; this perception of the
+connexion between what they are taught and what they are to become,
+is necessary to make young people assiduous: for want of attending to
+these principles, many splendid establishments have failed to produce
+pupils answerable to the expectations which had been formed of them.
+
+During seven years that Mad. de Fleury persevered uniformly on the
+same plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of the
+name of Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike her in
+character.
+
+When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a
+rich lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow
+for her children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon
+excelled in these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a
+prodigy of talent. The lady of the house gave herself great credit for
+having discerned, and having _brought forward_, such talents. Manon's
+moral character was in the mean time neglected. In this house, where
+there was a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had
+frequent opportunities and temptations to be dishonest. For some time
+she was not detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness,
+and servile compliance with the humours of the children of the family
+secured their good-will. Encouraged by daily petty successes in
+the art of deceit, she became a complete hypocrite. With culpable
+negligence, her mistress trusted implicitly to appearances; and
+without examining whether she were really honest, she suffered her to
+have free access to unlocked drawers and valuable cabinets. Several
+articles of dress were missed from time to time; but Manon managed
+so artfully, that she averted from herself all suspicion. Emboldened
+by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted depredations of more
+importance. She purloined a valuable, snuff-box--was detected in
+disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker's, and was
+immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement
+expressions of remorse, she so far worked upon the weakness of the
+lady of the house, as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance
+that occasioned her dismissal. Some months afterwards Manon,
+pleading that she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady
+a recommendation to Mad. de Fleury's school. It is wonderful that
+people, who in other respects profess and practise integrity, can
+be so culpably weak as to give good characters to those who do not
+deserve them: this is really one of the worst species of forgery.
+Imposed upon by this treacherous recommendation, Mad. de Fleury
+received into the midst of her innocent young pupils one who might
+have corrupted their minds secretly and irrecoverably. Fortunately a
+discovery was made in time of Manon's real disposition. A mere trifle
+led to the detection of her habits of falsehood. As she could not do
+any kind of needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was
+negligent, and did not in the course of the week wind the same number
+of balls as her companions; and to conceal this, she pretended that
+she had delivered the proper number to the woman, who regularly called
+at the end of the week for the cotton. The woman persisted in her
+account; the children in theirs; and Manon would not retract her
+assertion. The poor woman gave up the point; but she declared that she
+would the next time send her brother to make up the account, because
+he was _sharper_ than herself, and would not be imposed upon so
+easily. The ensuing week the brother came, and he proved to be the
+very pawnbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he knew
+her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him, and
+to persuade him that she was not the same person. The man was clear
+and firm. Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard.
+Struck with horror, the children shrunk back from Manon, and stood
+in silence. Mad. de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had
+recommended this girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker's
+assertions. The lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not
+deny the facts, and could apologize for herself only by saying, that
+"she believed the girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped,
+under Mad. de Fleury's judicious care, she would become an amiable and
+respectable woman."
+
+Mad. de Fleury, however, wisely judged, that the hazard of corrupting
+all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of
+correcting one, whose had habits were of such long standing. Manon was
+expelled from this happy little community--even Sister Frances, the
+most mild of human beings, could never think of the danger to which
+they had been exposed without expressing indignation against the lady
+who recommended such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and
+beloved pupils.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+  "Alas! regardless of their doom,
+  The little victims play:
+  No sense have they of ills to come,
+  No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.
+
+
+Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the
+genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age, the
+taste for whatever is called _une fete_ pervades the whole French
+nation. Mad. de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful
+motive, and connected it with the feelings of affection more than with
+the passion for show. For instance, when any of her little people had
+done any thing particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to
+invite their parents to a _fete_ prepared for them by their children,
+assisted by the kindness of Sister Frances.
+
+One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all the
+children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.
+Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy
+fathers and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in
+their turn heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance
+of their daughter's improvement. Full of hope for the future, and of
+gratitude for the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst
+in imagination they saw their children all prosperously and usefully
+settled in the world. They blessed Mad. de Fleury in her absence, and
+they wished ardently for her presence.
+
+"The sun is setting, and Mad. de Fleury is not yet come," cried
+Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the
+matter?"
+
+"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she
+has forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."
+
+"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she loves
+so much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be
+something very extraordinary that detains her."
+
+Babet laughed at Victoire's fears: but presently even she began to
+grow impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every
+moment that Mad. de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared, but
+with a dejected countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's
+foreboding. When she saw this festive company, each child sitting
+between her parents, and all at her entrance looking up with
+affectionate pleasure, a faint smile enlivened her countenance for a
+moment; but she did not speak to them with her usual ease. Her mind
+seemed pre-occupied by some disagreeable business of importance. It
+appeared that it had some connexion with them; for as she walked round
+the table with Sister Frances, she said with a voice and look of great
+tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they are at this moment!--Heaven
+only knows how soon they may be rendered, or may render themselves,
+miserable!"
+
+None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
+guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs.
+About this time some of those discontents had broken out, which
+preceded the terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the
+common people, who were honestly employed in earning their own living,
+neither understood what was going on, nor foresaw what was to happen.
+Many of their superiors were not in such happy ignorance--they
+had information of the intrigues that were forming; and the more
+penetration they possessed, the more they feared the consequences of
+events which they could not control. At the house of a great man, with
+whom she had dined this day, Mad. de Fleury had heard alarming news.
+Dreadful public disturbances, she saw, were inevitable; and whilst she
+trembled for the fate of all who were dear to her, these poor children
+had a share in her anxiety. She foresaw the temptations, the dangers,
+to which they must be exposed, whether they abandoned, or whether they
+abided by, the principles their education had instilled. She feared
+that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in an instant, or that
+her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their virtues.
+
+Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to
+govern themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use
+those preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with
+politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere,
+the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be
+exerted with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the
+public, in conciliating the inferior classes of society, explaining to
+them their duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds
+of the children of the poor, sentiments of just subordination and
+honest independence. How happy would it have been for France, if
+women of fortune and abilities had always exerted their talents and
+activity in this manner, instead of wasting their powers in futile
+declamations, or in the intrigues of party!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+  "E'en now the devastation is begun,
+  And half the business of destruction done."
+
+  GOLDSMITH.
+
+
+Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils. When the public
+disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible
+actions they saw. Instead of being seduced by bad example, they
+only showed anxiety to avoid companions of their own age, who were
+dishonest, idle, or profligate. Victoire's cousin Manon ridiculed
+these _absurd_ principles, as she called them; and endeavoured to
+persuade Victoire that she would be much happier if she _followed the
+fashion_.
+
+"What! Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still going
+to school with your little sister, though you are but a year younger
+than I am, I believe!--thirteen last birthday, were not you?--Mon
+Dieu! Why, how long do you intend to be a child? and why don't you
+leave that old nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?--I assure you,
+nuns, and schoolmistresses, and schools, and all that sort of thing,
+are out of fashion now--we have abolished all that--we are to live a
+life of reason now--and all soon to be equal, I can tell you; let your
+Mad. de Fleury look to that, and look to it yourself; for with all
+your wisdom, you might find yourself in the wrong box by sticking to
+her, and that side of the question.--Disengage yourself from her, I
+advise you, as soon as you can.--My dear Victoire! believe me, you may
+spell very well--but you know nothing of the rights of man, or the
+rights of woman."
+
+"I do not pretend to know any thing of the rights of men, or the
+rights of women," cried Victoire; "but this I know, that I never can
+or will be ungrateful to Mad. de Fleury. Disengage myself from her! I
+am bound to her for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I
+breathe."
+
+"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion--I only speak as
+a friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go
+home, and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."
+
+"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"
+
+"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a
+_good citizen_. I and a party of us _denounced_ a milliner and a
+confectioner in our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and
+of their goods forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share,
+such delicious _marangles_, and charming ribands!--Oh, Victoire,
+believe me, you will never get such things by going to school, or
+saying your prayers either. You may look with as much scorn and
+indignation as you please, but I advise you to let it alone, for all
+that is out of fashion, and may moreover bring you into difficulties.
+Believe me, my dear Victoire, your head is not deep enough to
+understand these things--you know nothing of politics."
+
+"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics
+can never alter that, you know."
+
+"Never alter that!--there you are quite mistaken," said Manon: "I
+cannot stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you, that I know
+secrets that you don't suspect."
+
+"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire,
+proudly.
+
+"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you
+expect," exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's
+contempt, that she could not refrain from boasting of her political
+knowledge. "I can tell you, that your fine friends will in a few days
+not be able to protect you. The Abbe Tracassier is in love with a dear
+friend of mine, and I know all the secrets of state from her--and I
+know what I know. Be as incredulous, as you please, but you will
+see that, before this week is at end, Monsieur de Fleury will be
+guillotined, and then what will become of you? Good morning, my proud
+cousin."
+
+Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe
+that Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately
+and communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Mad. de
+Fleury. It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which alarmed
+this lady for the safety of her husband. A man of his abilities,
+integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to escape
+persecution. He was inclined to brave the danger; but his lady
+represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and folly, to
+sacrifice his life to the villany of others, without probability or
+possibility of serving his country by his fall.
+
+M. de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of
+Victoire's intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very next
+day _placards_ were put up in every street, offering a price for the
+head of Citoyen Fleury, _suspected of incivisme_.
+
+Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these _placards_,
+the children read them as they returned in the evening from school;
+and little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a
+lamplighter's ladder, and tore down one of the papers. This imprudent
+action did not pass unobserved: it was seen by one of the spies of
+Citoyen Tracassier, a man who, under the pretence of zeal _pour la
+chose publique_, gratified without scruple his private resentments
+and his malevolent passions. In his former character of an abbe, and
+a man of wit, he had gained admittance into Mad. de Fleury's society.
+There he attempted to dictate both as a literary and religious despot.
+Accidentally discovering that Mad. de Fleury had a little school for
+poor children, he thought proper to be offended, because he had not
+been consulted respecting the regulations, and because he was not
+permitted, as he said, to take the charge of this little flock. He
+made many objections to Sister Frances, as being an improper person
+to have the spiritual guidance of these young people: but as he
+was unable to give any just reason for his dislike, Mad. de Fleury
+persisted in her choice, and was at last obliged to assert, in
+opposition to the domineering abbe, her right to judge and decide
+in her own affairs. With seeming politeness, he begged ten thousand
+pardons for his conscientious interference. No more was said upon the
+subject; and as he did not totally withdraw from her society till the
+revolution broke out, she did not suspect that she had any thing to
+fear from his resentment. His manners and opinions changed suddenly
+with the times; the mask of religion was thrown off; and now, instead
+of objecting to Sister Frances as not being sufficiently strict and
+orthodox in her tenets, he boldly declared, that a nun was not a
+fit person to be intrusted with the education of any of the young
+citizens--they should all be _des eleves de la patrie_. The abbe,
+become a member of the Committee of Public Safety, denounced Mad. de
+Fleury, in the strange jargon of the day, as "_the fosterer of a swarm
+of bad citizens, who were nourished in the anticivic prejudices_ de
+l'ancien regime, _and fostered in the most detestable superstitions,
+in defiance of the law_." He further observed, that he had good reason
+to believe that some of these little _enemies to the constitution_ had
+contrived and abetted M. de Fleury's escape. Of their having rejoiced
+at it in a most indecent manner, he said he could produce irrefragable
+proof. The boy who saw Babet tear down the _placard_ was produced and
+solemnly examined; and the thoughtless action of this poor little girl
+was construed into a state crime of the most horrible nature. In a
+declamatory tone, Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens, that in the
+ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of which France
+ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned to
+death for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that
+had fallen from a public statue. The orator, for the reward of his
+eloquence, obtained an order to seize every thing in Mad. de Fleury's
+school-house, and to throw the nun into prison.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+  "Who now will guard bewilder'd youth
+  Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage?--
+  Such war can Virtue wage?"
+
+
+At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution,
+Mad. de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening to
+Babet, who was reading AEsop's fable of _The old man and his sons_.
+Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire collected a number of twigs
+from the garden: she had just tied them together; and was going,
+by Sister Frances' desire, to let her companions try if they could
+break the bundle, when the attention of the moral of the fable was
+interrupted by the entrance of an old woman, whose countenance
+expressed the utmost terror and haste, to tell what she had not breath
+to utter. To Mad. de Fleury she was a stranger; but the children
+immediately recollected her to be the _chestnut woman_, to whom Babet
+had some years ago restored certain purloined chestnuts. "Fly!" said
+she, the moment she had breath to speak: "Fly!--they are coming to
+seize every thing here--carry off what you can--make haste--make
+haste!--I came through a by-street. A man was eating chestnuts at my
+stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the order from Citoyen
+Tracassier. They'll be here in five minutes--quick!--quick!--You, in
+particular," continued she, turning to the nun, "else you'll be in
+prison." At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister
+Frances, loosed their hold, exclaiming, "Go! go quick: but where?
+where?--we will go with her." "No, no!" said Madame de Fleury, "she
+shall come home with me--my carriage is at the door." "Ma belle dame!"
+cried the chestnut woman, "your house is the worst place she can go
+to--let her come to my cellar--the poorest cellar in these days is
+safer than the grandest palace." So saying, she seized the nun with
+honest roughness, and hurried her away. As soon as she was gone, the
+children ran different ways, each to collect some favourite thing,
+which they thought they could not leave behind. Victoire alone stood
+motionless beside Mad. de Fleury; her whole thoughts absorbed by the
+fear that her benefactress would be imprisoned. "Oh, madame! dear,
+dear Madame de Fleury, don't stay! don't stay!"
+
+"Oh, children, never mind these things."
+
+"Don't stay, madame, don't stay! I will stay with them--I will
+stay--do you go."
+
+The children hearing these words, and recollecting Mad. de Fleury's
+danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed
+her orders to go home to their parents. Victoire at last saw Mad. de
+Fleury safe in her carriage. The coachman drove off at a great rate;
+and a few minutes afterwards Tracassier's myrmidons arrived at the
+school-house. Great was their surprise, when they found only the
+poor children's little books, unfinished samplers, and half-hemmed
+handkerchiefs. They ran into the garden to search for the nun. They
+were men of brutal habits; yet as they looked at every thing round
+them, which bespoke peace, innocence, and childish happiness, they
+could not help thinking it was a pity to destroy what _could do the
+nation no great harm after all_. They were even glad that the nun
+had made her escape, since they were not answerable for it; and they
+returned to their employer, satisfied for once without doing any
+mischief: but Citizen Tracassier was of too vindictive a temper to
+suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance. The next
+day Mad. de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal, and ordered to
+give up the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree of the
+law had been obtained.
+
+Mad. de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman: the gentle
+firmness of this lady's answers to a brutal interrogatory was termed
+insolence; she was pronounced a refractory aristocrat, dangerous to
+the state; and an order was made out to seal up her goods, and to keep
+her a prisoner in her own house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+  "Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car
+  The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,
+  While the fair captive, mark'd with many a scar,
+  In lone obscurity, oppress'd, forlorn,
+  Resigns to tears her angel form."--BEATTIE.
+
+
+A close prisoner in her own house, Mad. de Fleury was now guarded by
+men suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the people;
+men of brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more ferocious
+minds. They seemed to delight in the insolent, display of their
+newly-acquired power. One of these men had formerly been convicted of
+some horrible crime, and had been sent to the galleys by M. de Fleury.
+Revenge actuated this wretch under the mask of patriotism, and he
+rejoiced in seeing the wife of the man he hated a prisoner in his
+custody. Ignorant of the facts, his associates were ready to believe
+him in the right, and to join in the senseless cry against all
+who were their superiors in fortune, birth, and education. This
+unfortunate lady was forbidden all intercourse with her friends, and
+it was in vain she attempted to obtain from her jailers intelligence
+of what was passing in Paris.
+
+"Tu verras--Tout va bien--Ca ira," were the only answers they deigned
+to make: frequently they continued smoking their pipes in obdurate
+silence. She occupied the back rooms of her house, because her guards
+apprehended that she might from the front windows receive intelligence
+from her friends. One morning she was awakened by an unusual noise in
+the streets; and upon her inquiring the occasion of it, her guards
+told her she was welcome to go to the front windows, and satisfy her
+curiosity. She went, and saw an immense crowd of people surrounding a
+guillotine, that had been erected the preceding night. Mad. de Fleury
+started back with horror--her guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and
+asked whether her curiosity was satisfied. She would have left the
+room; but it was now their pleasure to detain her, and to force her to
+continue the whole day in this apartment. When the guillotine began
+its work, they had even the barbarity to drag her to the window,
+repeating, "It is there you ought to be!--It is there your husband
+ought to be!--You are too happy, that your husband is not there this
+moment. But he will be there--the law will overtake him--he will be
+there in time--and you too!"
+
+The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no
+impression upon these cruel men. When at night they saw her kneeling
+at her prayers, they taunted her with gross and impious mockery; and
+when she sunk to sleep, they would waken her by their loud and drunken
+orgies: if she remonstrated, they answered, "The enemies of the
+constitution should have no rest."
+
+Mad. de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic
+pleasures, or employed for the good of her fellow-creatures. Even
+in this hour of personal danger she thought of others more than of
+herself: she thought of her husband, an exile in a foreign country,
+who might be reduced to the utmost distress, now that she was deprived
+of all means of remitting him money. She thought of her friends, who,
+she knew, would exert themselves to obtain her liberty, and whose
+zeal in her cause might involve them and their families in distress.
+She thought of the good Sister Frances, who had been exposed by her
+means to the unrelenting persecution of the malignant and powerful
+Tracassier. She thought of her poor little pupils, now thrown upon the
+world without a protector. Whilst these ideas were revolving in her
+mind, one night, as she lay awake, she heard the door of her chamber
+open softly, and a soldier, one of her guards, with a light in his
+hand, entered: he came to the foot of her bed; and, as she started up,
+laid his finger upon his lips.
+
+"Don't make the least noise," said he in a whisper; "those without are
+drunk, and asleep. Don't you know me?--Don't you remember my face?"
+
+"Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice."
+
+The man took off the bonnet-rouge--still she could not guess who he
+was.--"You never saw me in an uniform before, nor without a black
+face."
+
+She looked again, and recollected the smith, to whom Maurice was bound
+apprentice, and remembered his _patois_ accent.
+
+"I remember you," said he, "at any rate; and your goodness to that
+poor girl the day her arm was broken, and all your goodness to
+Maurice--But I've no time for talking of that now--get up, wrap this
+great coat round you--don't be in a hurry, but make no noise, and
+follow me."
+
+She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels, opened
+a back door into the garden, hurried her, almost carried her, across
+the garden, to a door at the furthest end of it, which opened into
+Les Champs Elysees--"La voila!" cried he, pushing her through the
+half-opened door. "God be praised!" answered a voice, which Mad. de
+Fleury knew to be Victoire's, whose arms were thrown round her with a
+transport of joy.
+
+"Softly; she is not safe yet--wait till we get her home, Victoire,"
+said another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice. He produced
+a dark lantern, and guided Mad. de Fleury across the Champs Elysees,
+and across the bridge, and then through various by-streets, in perfect
+silence, till they arrived safely at the house where Victoire's mother
+lodged, and went up those very stairs which she had ascended in such
+different circumstances several years before. The mother, who was
+sitting up waiting most anxiously for the return of her children,
+clasped her hands in an ecstasy, when she saw them return with Mad. de
+Fleury.
+
+"Welcome, madame! Welcome, dear madame! but who would have thought of
+seeing you here, in such a way? Let her rest herself--let her rest;
+she is quite overcome. Here, madame, can you sleep on this poor bed?"
+
+"The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken," said
+Victoire.
+
+"Ay, Lord bless her!" said the mother; "and though it's seven good
+years ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw her sitting on that bed,
+beside my poor child, looking like an angel. But let her rest, let her
+rest--we'll not say a word more, only God bless her; thank Heaven,
+she's safe with us at last!"
+
+Mad. de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good people,
+lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most earnestly
+that she would remain with them without scruple.
+
+"Surely, madame," said the mother, "you must think that we have some
+remembrance of all you have done for us, and some touch of gratitude."
+
+"And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope," said Maurice.
+
+"And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for you. The
+lion was not too proud to be served by the poor little mouse," said
+Victoire. "As to danger for us," continued she, "there can be none;
+for Maurice and I have contrived a hiding-place for you, madame,
+that can never be found out--let them come spying here as often as
+they please, they will never find her out, will they, Maurice? Look,
+madame, into this lumber-room--you see it seems to be quite full of
+wood for firing; well, if you creep in behind, you can hide yourself
+quite snug in the loft above, and here's a trap-door into the loft
+that nobody ever would think of--for we have hung these old things
+from the top of it, and who could guess it was a trap-door? So, you
+see, dear madame, you may sleep in peace here, and never fear for us."
+
+Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the
+sense and prudence of a woman of thirty. Gratitude seemed at once to
+develope all the powers of her mind. It was she and Maurice who had
+prevailed upon the smith to effect Mad. de Fleury's escape from her
+own house. She had invented, she had foreseen, she had arranged every
+thing; she had scarcely rested night or day since the imprisonment of
+her benefactress; and now that her exertions had fully succeeded, her
+joy seemed to raise her above all feeling of fatigue; she looked as
+fresh and moved as briskly, her mother said, as if she were preparing
+to go to a ball.
+
+"Ah! my child," said she, "your cousin Manon, who goes to those balls
+every night, was never so happy as you are this minute."
+
+But Victoire's happiness was not of long continuance; for the next day
+they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged beyond
+measure at Mad. de Fleury's escape, that all his emissaries were at
+work to discover her present hiding-place, that the houses of all the
+parents and relations of her pupils were to be searched, and that the
+most severe denunciations were issued against all by whom she should
+be harboured. Manon was the person who gave this intelligence, but not
+with any benevolent design; she first came to Victoire, to display
+her own consequence; and to terrify her, she related all she knew
+from a soldier's wife, who was M. Tracassier's mistress. Victoire
+had sufficient command over herself to conceal from the inquisitive
+eyes of Manon the agitation of her heart; she had also the prudence
+not to let any one of her companions into her secret, though, when
+she saw their anxiety, she was much tempted to relieve them, by the
+assurance that Mad. de Fleury was in safety. All the day was passed
+in apprehension. Mad. de Fleury never stirred from her place of
+concealment: as the evening and the hour of the domiciliary visits
+approached, Victoire and Maurice were alarmed by an unforeseen
+difficulty. Their mother, whose health had been broken by hard work,
+in vain endeavoured to suppress her terror at the thoughts of this
+domiciliary visit; she repeated incessantly that she knew they should
+all be discovered, and that her children would be dragged to the
+guillotine before her face. She was in such a distracted state, that
+they dreaded she would, the moment she saw the soldiers, reveal all
+she knew.
+
+"If they question me, I shall not know what to answer," cried the
+terrified woman. "What can I say?--What can I do?"
+
+Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition to
+understand, or even to listen to, any thing that was said. In this
+situation they were, when the domiciliary visitors arrived--they heard
+the noise of the soldiers' feet on the stairs--the poor woman sprang
+from the arms of her children; but at the moment the door was opened,
+and she saw the glittering of the bayonets, she fell at full length
+in a swoon on the floor--fortunately before she had power to utter a
+syllable. The people of the house knew, and said, that she was subject
+to fits on any sudden alarm; so that her being affected in this manner
+did not appear surprising. They threw her on a bed, whilst they
+proceeded to search the house: her children stayed with her; and,
+wholly occupied in attending to her, they were not exposed to the
+danger of betraying their anxiety about Mad. de Fleury. They trembled,
+however, from head to foot, when they heard one of the soldiers swear
+that all the wood in the lumber-room must be pulled out, and that he
+would not leave the house till every stick was moved; the sound of
+each log, as it was thrown out, was heard by Victoire: her brother
+was now summoned to assist. How great was his terror, when one of the
+searchers looked up to the roof, as if expecting to find a trap-door!
+fortunately, however, he did not discover it. Maurice, who had seized
+the light, contrived to throw the shadows so as to deceive the eye.
+The soldiers at length retreated; and with inexpressible satisfaction
+Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw them fairly out of the
+house. For some minutes after they were in safety, the terrified
+mother, who had recovered her senses, could scarcely believe that
+the danger was over. She embraced her children by turns with wild
+transport; and with tears begged Mad. de Fleury to forgive her
+cowardice, and not to attribute it to ingratitude, or to suspect
+that she had a bad heart. She protested that she was now become so
+courageous, since she found that she had gone through this trial
+successfully, and since she was sure that the hiding-place was really
+so secure, that she should never be alarmed at any domiciliary visit
+in future. Mad. de Fleury, however, did not think it either just or
+expedient to put her resolution to the trial. She determined to leave
+Paris; and, if possible, to make her escape from France. The master of
+one of the Paris diligences was brother to Francois, her footman: he
+was ready to assist her at all hazards, and to convey her safely to
+Bourdeaux, if she could disguise herself properly; and if she could
+obtain a pass from any friend under a feigned name.
+
+Victoire--the indefatigable Victoire--recollected that her friend
+Annette had an aunt, who was nearly of Mad. de Fleury's size, and who
+had just obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit some of her
+relations. The pass was willingly given up to Mad. de Fleury; and upon
+reading it over it was found to answer tolerably well--the colour of
+the eyes and hair at least would do; though the words _un nez gros_
+were not precisely descriptive of this lady's. Annette's mother, who
+had always worn the provincial dress of Auvergne, furnished the high
+_cornette_, stiff stays, boddice, &c.; and equipped in these, Mad. de
+Fleury was so admirably well disguised, that even Victoire declared
+she should scarcely have known her. Money, that most necessary
+passport in all countries, was still wanting: as seals had been
+put upon all Mad. de Fleury's effects the day she had been first
+imprisoned in her own house, she could not save even her jewels. She
+had, however, one ring on her finger of some value. How to dispose
+of it without exciting suspicion was the difficulty. Babet, who was
+resolved to have her share in assisting her benefactress, proposed
+to carry the ring to a _colporteur_--a pedlar, or sort of travelling
+jeweller, who had come to lay in a stock of hardware at Paris: he was
+related to one of Mad. de Fleury's little pupils, and readily disposed
+of the ring for her: she obtained at least two-thirds of its value--a
+great deal in those times.
+
+The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude, which she received
+in these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in her
+prosperity, touched her generous heart so much, that she has often
+since declared she could not regret having been reduced to distress.
+Before she quitted Paris, she wrote letters to her friends,
+recommending her pupils to their protection; she left these letters in
+the care of Victoire, who to the last moment followed her with anxious
+affection. She would have followed her benefactress into exile, but
+that she was prevented by duty and affection from leaving her mother,
+who was in declining health.
+
+Mad. de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris. Some of the
+municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her
+road were as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinizing
+her passport. It seldom happened that more than one of these petty
+committees of public safety could read. One usually spelled out the
+passport as well as he could, whilst the others smoked their pipes,
+and from time to time held a light up to the lady's face to examine
+whether it agreed with the description.
+
+"Mais toi! tu n'as pas le nez gros!" said one of her judges to her.
+"Son nez est assez gros, et c'est moi qui le dit," said another. The
+question was put to the vote; and the man who had asserted what was
+contrary to the evidence of his senses was so vehement in supporting
+his opinion, that it was carried in spite of all that could be said
+against it. Mad. de Fleury was suffered to proceed on her journey.
+She reached Bourdeaux in safety. Her husband's friends--the good have
+always friends in adversity--her husband's friends exerted themselves
+for her with the most prudent zeal. She was soon provided with a sum
+of money sufficient for her support for some time in England; and she
+safely reached that free and happy country, which has been the refuge
+of so many illustrious exiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+  "Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende
+  Dalla rupe natia quand' esce fuora,
+  E a poco a poco lucido se rende
+  Sotto l'attenta che lo lavora."
+
+
+Mad. de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London; and they both
+lived in the most retired and frugal manner. They had too much of the
+pride of independence to become burthensome to their generous English
+friends. Notwithstanding the variety of difficulties they had to
+encounter, and the number of daily privations to which they were
+forced to submit, yet they were happy--in a tranquil conscience, in
+their mutual affection, and the attachment of many poor but grateful
+friends. A few months after she came to England, Mad. de Fleury
+received, by a private hand, a packet of letters from her little
+pupils. Each of them, even the youngest, who had but just begun to
+learn joining-hand, would write a few lines in this packet.
+
+In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon these
+simple words:
+
+    "MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,
+
+    "I love you--I wish you were here again--I will be _very very_
+    good whilst you are away. If you stay away ever so long, I shall
+    never forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you will soon be
+    able to come back, and this is what I pray for every night. Sister
+    Frances says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire
+    thinks so too."
+
+This was the substance of several of their little letters. Victoire's
+contained rather more information:--
+
+
+    "You will be glad to _learn_ that dear Sister Frances is safe, and
+    that the good chestnut woman, in whose cellar she took refuge, did
+    not get into any difficulty. After you were gone, M. T---- said
+    that he did not think it worth while to pursue her, as it was only
+    you he wanted to humble. Manon, who has, I do not know how, means
+    of knowing, told me this. Sister Frances is now with her abbess,
+    who, as well as every body else that knows her, is very fond of
+    her. What was a convent is no longer a convent: the nuns are
+    turned out of it. Sister Frances' health is not so good as it used
+    to be, though she never complains; I am sure she suffers much; she
+    has never been the same person since that day when we were driven
+    from our happy school-room. It is all destroyed--the garden and
+    every thing. It is now a dismal sight. Your absence also afflicts
+    Sister Frances much, and she is in great anxiety about all of
+    us. She has the six little ones with her every day, in her own
+    apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used to do. We six
+    eldest go to see her as often as we can. I should have begun, my
+    dear Mad. de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after you left
+    Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very kind to
+    write for us in the midst of your hurry. Your friends have been
+    exceedingly good to us, and have got places for us all. Rose is
+    with Mad. la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy
+    and more expert at cutting out than girls she has had these three
+    years. Marianne is in the service of Mad. de V----, who has lost
+    a great part of her large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her
+    former waiting-maid. Mad. de V---- is well pleased with Marianne,
+    and bids me tell you that she thanks you for her. Indeed,
+    Marianne, though she is only fourteen, can do every thing her lady
+    wants. Susanne is with a confectioner; she gave Sister Frances
+    a box of _bonbons_ of her own making this morning; and Sister
+    Frances, who is a judge, says they are excellent; she only wishes
+    you could taste them. Annette and I (thanks to your kindness!) are
+    in the same service, with Mad. Feuillot, the _brodeuse_, to whom
+    you recommended us: she is not discontented with our work, and
+    indeed sent a very civil message yesterday to Sister Frances on
+    this subject; but I believe it is too flattering for me to repeat
+    in this letter. We shall do our best to give her satisfaction. She
+    is glad to find that we can write tolerably, and that we can make
+    out bills and keep accounts; this being particularly convenient
+    to her at present, as the young man she had in the shop is become
+    an _orator_, and good for nothing but _la chose publique_: her
+    son, who could have supplied his place, is ill; and Mad. Feuillot
+    herself, not having had, as she says, the advantage of such a good
+    education as we have been blessed with, writes but badly, and
+    knows nothing of arithmetic. Dear Mad. de Fleury, how much, how
+    very much we are obliged to you! We feel it every day more and
+    more: in these times what would have become of us, if we could
+    do nothing useful? Who _would_, who _could_ be burdened with us?
+    Dear madame, we owe every thing to you--and we can do nothing, not
+    the least thing, for you!--My mother is still in bad health, and
+    I fear will never recover: Babet is with her always, and Sister
+    Frances is very good to her. My brother Maurice is now so good a
+    workman that he earns a louis a week. He is very steady to his
+    business, and never goes to the revolutionary meetings, though
+    once he had a great mind to be an orator of the people, but never
+    since the day that you explained to him that he knew nothing about
+    equality and the rights of men, &c. How could I forget to tell
+    you, that his master the smith, who was one of your guards, and
+    who assisted you to escape, has returned without suspicion to his
+    former trade? and he declares that he will never more meddle with
+    public affairs. I gave him the money you left with me for him. He
+    is very kind to my brother--yesterday Maurice mended for Annette's
+    mistress the lock of an English writing-desk, and he mended it so
+    astonishingly well, that an English gentleman, who saw it, could
+    not believe the work was done by a Frenchman; so my brother was
+    sent for, to prove it, and they were forced to believe it. To-day
+    he has more work than he can finish this twelvemonth--all this we
+    owe to you. I shall never forget the day when you promised that
+    you would grant my brother's wish to be apprenticed to the smith,
+    if I was not in a passion for a month--that cured me of being so
+    passionate.
+
+    "Dear Mad. de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter, and
+    not so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted
+    to tell you every thing at once, because, may be, I shall not for
+    a long time have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to
+    you.
+
+    "VICTOIRE."
+
+Several months elapsed before Mad. de Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire: it was short, and evidently written in great distress
+of mind. It contained an account of her mother's death. She was
+now left at the early age of sixteen an orphan. Mad. Feuillot, the
+_brodeuse_, with whom she lived, added a few lines to her letter,
+penned with difficulty and strangely spelled, but expressive of her
+being highly pleased with both the girls recommended to her by Mad. de
+Fleury, especially Victoire, who she said was such a treasure to her,
+that she would not part with her on any account, and should consider
+her as a daughter. "I tell her not to grieve so much; for though she
+has lost one mother, she has gained another for herself, who will
+always love her: and besides, she is so useful, and in so many ways,
+with her pen and her needle, in accounts, and every thing that is
+wanted in a family or a shop, she can never want employment or friends
+in the worst times; and none can be worse than these, especially for
+such pretty girls as she is, who have all their heads turned, and are
+taught to consider nothing a sin that used to be sins. Many gentlemen,
+who come to our shop, have found out that Victoire is very handsome,
+and tell her so; but she is so modest and prudent, that I am not
+afraid for her. I could tell you, madame, a good anecdote on this
+subject, but my paper will not allow, and besides, my writing is so
+difficult."
+
+Above a year elapsed before Mad. de Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire: this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant took charge:
+it contained a variety of little offerings from her pupils, instances
+of their ingenuity, their industry, and their affection: the last
+thing in the packet was a small purse labelled in this manner--
+
+"_Savings from our wages and earnings, for her who taught us all we
+know_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+  "Dans sa pompe elegante, admirez Chantilly,
+  De heros en heros, d'age en age, embelli."
+
+  DE LILLE.
+
+
+The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from
+the shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution,
+declined so rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that
+she was obliged to leave Paris, and she retired to a little village
+in the neighbourhood of Chantilly. She chose this situation, because
+here she was within a morning's walk of Mad. de Fleury's country-seat.
+The Chateau de Fleury had not yet been seized as national property,
+nor had it suffered from the attacks of the mob, though it was in
+a perilous situation, within view of the high road to Paris. The
+Parisian populace had not yet extended their outrages to this distance
+from the city; and the poor people who lived on the estate of Fleury,
+attached from habit, principle, and gratitude to their lord, were not
+disposed to take advantage of the disorder of the times, to injure the
+property of those from whom they had all their lives received favours
+and protection. A faithful old steward had the care of the castle and
+the grounds. Sister Frances was impatient to talk to him, and to visit
+the chateau, which she had never seen; but for some days after her
+arrival in the village, she was so much fatigued and so weak, that she
+could not attempt so long a walk. Victoire had obtained permission
+from her mistress to accompany the nun for a few days to the country,
+as Annette undertook to do all the business of the shop during the
+absence of her companion. Victoire was fully as eager as Sister
+Frances to see the faithful steward and the Chateau de Fleury, and the
+morning was now fixed for their walk: but in the middle of the night
+they were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who had just entered the
+village fresh from the destruction of a neighbouring castle. The nun
+and Victoire listened; but in the midst of the horrid yells of joy, no
+human voice, no intelligible word, could be distinguished: they looked
+through a chink in the window-shutter, and they saw the street
+below filled with a crowd of men, whose countenances were by turns
+illuminated by the glare of the torches which they brandished.
+
+"Good Heavens!" whispered the nun to Victoire: "I should know the face
+of that man who is loading his musket--the very man whom I nursed ten
+years ago, when he was ill with a jail fever!"
+
+This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head than
+the others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were disputing
+whether they should proceed further, spend the remainder of the night
+in the village alehouse, or return to Paris. Their leader ordered
+spirits to be distributed to his associates, and exhorted them in a
+loud voice to proceed in their glorious work. Tossing his firebrand
+over his head, he declared that he would never return to Paris till
+he had razed to the ground the Chateau de Fleury. At these words,
+Victoire, forgetful of all personal danger, ran out into the midst of
+the mob, pressed her way up to the leader of these ruffians, caught
+him by the arm, exclaiming, "You will not touch a stone in the Chateau
+de Fleury--I have my reasons--I say you will not suffer a stone in the
+Chateau de Fleury to be touched."
+
+"And why not?" cried the man, turning astonished; "and who are you,
+that I should listen to you?"
+
+"No matter who I am," said Victoire; "follow me, and I will show
+you one to whom you will not refuse to listen. Here!--here she is,"
+continued Victoire, pointing to the nun, who had followed her in
+amazement; "here is one to whom you will listen--yes, look at her
+well: hold the light to her face."
+
+The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless expectation.
+
+"Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy," cried
+Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man; "you
+will save the Chateau de Fleury, for her sake--who saved your life."
+
+"I will," cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired with sudden
+generosity. "By my faith you are a brave girl, and a fine girl, and
+know how to speak to the heart, and in the right moment. Friends,
+citizens! this nun, though she is a nun, is good for something. When
+I lay ill with a fever, and not a soul else to help me, she came and
+gave me medicines and food--in short, I owe my life to her. 'Tis ten
+years ago, but I remember it well; and now it is our turn to rule,
+and she shall be paid as she deserves. Not a stone of the Chateau de
+Fleury shall be touched!"
+
+With loud acclamations, the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm of
+the moment, and followed their leader peaceably out of the village.
+All this passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the impression
+of reality upon the mind. As soon as the sun rose in the morning,
+Victoire looked out for the turrets of the Chateau de Fleury, and
+she saw that they were safe--safe in the midst of the surrounding
+devastation. Nothing remained of the superb palace of Chantilly but
+the white arches of its foundation!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+  "When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest,
+  Thy meek submission to thy God express'd;
+  When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
+  A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
+  What to thy soul its glad assurance gave--
+  Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave?
+  The sweet remembrance of unblemish'd youth,
+  Th'inspiring voice of innocence and truth!"
+
+  ROGERS.
+
+
+The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the
+shock of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Chateau de
+Fleury. The gates were opened for them by the old steward and his son
+Basile, who welcomed them with all the eagerness with which people
+welcome friends in time of adversity. The old man showed them the
+place; and through every apartment of the castle went on, talking of
+former times, and with narrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear
+master and mistress. Here his lady used to sit and read--here was
+the table at which she wrote--this was the sofa on which she and
+the ladies sat the very last day she was at the castle, at the open
+windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and people of the village
+were dancing on the green.
+
+"Ay, those were happy times," said the old man; "but they will never
+return."
+
+"Never! Oh, do not say so," cried Victoire.
+
+"Never during my life, at least," said the nun in a low voice, and
+with a look of resignation.
+
+Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his
+arm against the chord of Mad. de Fleury's harp, and the sound echoed
+through the room.
+
+"Before this year is at an end," cried Victoire, "perhaps that harp
+will be struck again in this chateau by Mad. de Fleury herself. Last
+night we could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing this
+morning, and yet it is safe--not a stone touched! Oh, we shall all
+live, I hope, to see better times!"
+
+Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire's
+enthusiastic hope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt
+better this morning than she had felt for months, and Victoire was
+happier than she had been since Mad. de Fleury left France. But, alas!
+it was only a transient gleam. Sister Frances relapsed, and declined
+so rapidly, that even Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed
+to hope, despaired of her recovery. With placid resignation, or rather
+with mild confidence, this innocent and benevolent creature met the
+approach of death. She seemed attached to earth only by affection for
+those whom she was to leave in this world. Two of the youngest of the
+children which had formerly been placed under her care, and who were
+not yet able to earn their own subsistence, she kept with her, and in
+the last days of her life she continued her instructions to them with
+the fond solicitude of a parent. Her father confessor, an excellent
+man, who never even in these dangerous times shrunk from his duty,
+came to attend Sister Frances in her last moments, and relieved her
+mind from all anxiety, by promising to place the two little children
+with the lady who had been abbess of her convent, who would to the
+utmost of her power protect and provide for them suitably. Satisfied
+by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon Victoire, who
+stood beside her bed, and with that smile upon her countenance
+expired.--It was some time before the little children seemed to
+comprehend, or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they had
+never before seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die,
+and their first feeling was astonishment: they did not seem to
+understand why Victoire wept. But the next day when no Sister Frances
+spoke to them, when every hour they missed some accustomed kindness
+from her,--when presently they saw the preparations for her
+funeral,--when they heard that she was to be buried in the earth, and
+that they should never see her more,--they could neither play nor eat,
+but sat in a corner holding each other's hands, and watching every
+thing that was done for the dead by Victoire.
+
+In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would
+not have been permitted by the populace. It was therefore performed
+as secretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was
+carried to the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his
+son Basile, Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only
+persons present. It is necessary to mention this, because the facts
+were afterwards misrepresented.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+  "The character is lost!
+  Her head adorn'd with lappets, pinn'd aloft,
+  And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
+  Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand
+  For more than half the tresses it sustains."
+
+  COWPER.
+
+
+Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
+employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best
+remedies for sorrow.
+
+One day, as she was busy settling Mad. Feuillot's accounts, a servant
+came into the shop, and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he
+presented her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher.
+It was signed by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her
+hotel. "_Her hotel_!" repeated Victoire with astonishment. The servant
+assured her that one of the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his
+lady, and that he was commissioned to show her the way to it. Victoire
+found her cousin in a magnificent house, which had formerly belonged
+to the Prince de Salms. Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent
+extreme of the mode, was seated under a richly-fringed canopy. She
+burst into a loud laugh as Victoire entered.
+
+"You look just as much astonished as I expected," cried she. "Great
+changes have happened since I saw you last--I always told you,
+Victoire, I knew the world better than you did. What has come of
+all your schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude
+truly?--Your patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge in
+the shop of a _brodeuse_, who makes you work your fingers to the bone,
+no doubt.--Now you shall see the difference. Let me show you my house;
+you know it was formerly the hotel of the Prince de Salms, he that was
+guillotined the other day; but you know nothing, for you have been
+out of Paris this month, I understand. Then I must tell you, that my
+friend Villeneuf has acquired an immense fortune! by assignats, made
+in the course of a fortnight--I say an immense fortune! and has bought
+this fine house--Now do you begin to understand?"
+
+"I do not clearly know whom you mean by your friend Villeneuf," said
+Victoire.
+
+"The hairdresser, who lived in our street," said Manon; "he became a
+great patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence and
+his luck in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and mine."
+
+"And yours! then he is your husband!"
+
+"That does not follow--that is not necessary--but do not look so
+shocked--every body goes on the same way now; besides, I had no
+other resource--I must have starved--I could not earn my bread as
+you do. Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort--and
+besides--but come, let me show you my house--you have no idea how
+fine it is."
+
+With anxious ostentation, Manon displayed all her riches, to excite
+Victoire's envy.
+
+"Confess, Victoire," said she at last, "that you think me the happiest
+person you have ever known.--You do not answer; whom did you ever know
+that was happier?"
+
+"Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier,"
+said Victoire.
+
+"The poor nun!" said Manon, disdainfully. "Well, and whom do you think
+the next happiest?"
+
+"Madame de Fleury."
+
+"An exile and a beggar!--Oh, you are jesting now,
+Victoire--or--envious. With that sanctified face, citoyenne--perhaps
+I should say Mademoiselle Victoire, you would be delighted to change
+places with me this instant. Come, you shall stay with me a week, to
+try how you like it."
+
+"Excuse me," said Victoire, firmly; "I cannot stay with you,
+Manon--you have chosen one way of life, and I another--quite another.
+I do not repent my choice--may you never repent yours!--Farewell!"
+
+"Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks! Repent of my
+choice!--a likely thing, truly. Am not I at the top of the wheel?"
+
+"And may not the wheel turn?" said Victoire.
+
+"Perhaps it may," said Manon; "but till it does I will enjoy myself.
+Since you are of a different humour, return to Mad. Feuillot, and
+_figure_ upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills, and nurse old
+nuns, all the days of your life. You will never persuade me, however,
+that you would not change places with me if you could. Stay till you
+are tried, Mademoiselle Victoire. Who was ever in love with you, or
+your virtues?--Stay till you are tried."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+  "But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,
+  Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
+  Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye
+  To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit."
+
+  MILTON.
+
+
+The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected. Manon had
+scarcely pronounced the last words, when the ci-devant hairdresser
+burst into the room, accompanied by several of his political
+associates, who met to consult measures for the good of the nation.
+Among these patriots was the Abbe Tracassier.
+
+"Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?" whispered he; "a
+friend of yours, I hope?"
+
+Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate
+abbe had seen enough to make him wish to see more. The next day he
+went to Mad. Feuillot's, under pretence of buying some embroidered
+handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant
+compliments, which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and
+which appeared ridiculous to her plain good sense. She did not know
+who he was, nor did Mad. Feuillot; for though she had often heard
+of the abbe, yet she had never seen him. Several succeeding days he
+returned, and addressed himself to Victoire, each time with increasing
+freedom. Mad. Feuillot, who had the greatest confidence in her,
+left her entirely to her own discretion. Victoire begged her friend
+Annette to do the business of the shop, and stayed at work in the back
+parlour. Tracassier was much disappointed by her absence; but as he
+thought no great ceremony necessary in his proceedings, he made his
+name known in a haughty manner to Mad. de Feuillot, and desired that
+he might be admitted into the back parlour, as he had something of
+consequence to say to Mlle. Victoire in private. Our readers will
+not require to have a detailed account of this tete-a-tete; it is
+sufficient to say, that the disappointed and exasperated abbe left
+the house muttering imprecations. The next morning a note came to
+Victoire, apparently from Manon: it was directed by her, but the
+inside was written by an unknown hand, and contained these words:--
+
+    "You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl--since you do not
+    like compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery.
+    It is in the power of the person who dictates this, not only to
+    make you as rich and great as your cousin Manon, but also to
+    restore to fortune and to their country the friends for whom you
+    are most interested. Their fate as well as your own is in your
+    power: if you send a favourable answer to this note, the persons
+    alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the list of emigrants,
+    and reinstated in their former possessions. If your answer is
+    decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France will
+    be thenceforward impracticable, and their chateau, as well as
+    their house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold
+    without delay to the highest bidder. To you, who have as much
+    understanding as beauty, it is unnecessary to say more. Consult
+    your heart, charming Victoire! be happy, and make others happy.
+    This moment is decisive of your fate and of theirs, for you have
+    to answer a man of a most decided character."
+
+Victoire's answer was as follows:--
+
+    "My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or
+    consent to return to their country, upon the conditions proposed;
+    therefore I have no merit in rejecting them."
+
+Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain, steady,
+good sense, which goes straight to its object, without being
+dazzled or imposed upon by sophistry. She was unacquainted with the
+refinements of sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from wrong,
+and had sufficient resolution to abide by the right. Perhaps many
+romantic heroines might have thought it a generous self-devotion to
+have become in similar circumstances the mistress of Tracassier;
+and those who are skilled "to make the worst appear the better
+cause" might have made such an act of heroism the foundation of an
+interesting, or at least a fashionable novel. Poor Victoire had not
+received an education sufficiently refined to enable her to understand
+these mysteries of sentiment. She was even simple enough to flatter
+herself that this libertine patriot would not fulfil his threats,
+and that these had been made only with a view to terrify her into
+compliance. In this opinion, however, she found herself mistaken. M.
+Tracassier was indeed a man of the most decided character, if this
+term may properly be applied to those who act uniformly in consequence
+of their ruling passion. The Chateau de Fleury was seized as national
+property. Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward, who was
+turned out of the castle, along with his son, the very day after her
+rejection of the proposed conditions.
+
+"I could not have believed that any human creature could be so
+wicked!" exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but indignation
+gave way to sorrow.
+
+"And the Chateau de Fleury is really seized?--and you, good old
+man, are turned out of the place where you were born?--and you too,
+Basile?--and Mad. de Fleury will never come back again!--and perhaps
+she may be put into prison in a foreign country, and may die for
+want--and I might have prevented all this!"
+
+Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation,
+whilst Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole
+transaction. Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so
+transported with indignation, that he would have gone instantly with
+the note from Tracassier to _denounce_ him before the whole National
+Convention, if he had not been restrained by his more prudent father.
+The old steward represented to him, that as the note was neither
+signed nor written by the hand of Tracassier, no proof could be
+brought home to him, and the attempt to convict one of so powerful a
+party would only bring certain destruction upon the accusers. Besides,
+such was at this time the general depravity of manners, that numbers
+would keep the guilty in countenance. There was no crime which the
+mask of patriotism could not cover.
+
+"There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men can
+never have," said the old man; "when their downfall comes, and come it
+will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT. Victoire,
+look up! and do not give way to despair--all will yet be well."
+
+"At all events, you have done what is right--so do not reproach
+yourself," said Basile. "Every body--I mean every body who is good for
+any thing--must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+  "Ne mal cio che v'annoja,
+  Quello e vero gioire
+  Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."
+
+
+Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
+which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her
+conduct towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment;
+but he forbore to declare his affection, because he could not,
+consistently with prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of
+marrying, now that he was not able to maintain a wife and family. The
+honest earnings of many years of service had been wrested from the
+old steward at the time the Chateau de Fleury was seized, and he now
+depended on the industry of his son for the daily support of his age.
+His dependence was just, and not likely to be disappointed; for he had
+given his son an education suitable to his condition in life. Basile
+was an exact arithmetician, could write an excellent hand, and was a
+ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring these useful talents into
+action, and to find employment for them, with men by whom they would
+be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty--a difficulty which
+Victoire's brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation as a smith had
+introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman of worth and
+scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make models and
+plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of a good
+clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure. Maurice
+mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character, and
+upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and
+was accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his
+father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter
+himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then
+he might declare his attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding all his
+boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his passion
+to have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted
+observer: but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly
+occupied with a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her
+benefactress, who was now, as she feared, in want. All Mad. de
+Fleury's former pupils contributed their share to the common stock;
+and the mantua-maker, the confectioner, the servants of different
+sorts, who had been educated at her school, had laid by, during the
+years of her banishment, an annual portion of their wages and savings:
+with the sum which Victoire now added to the fund, it amounted to
+ten thousand livres. The person who undertook to carry this money to
+Mad. de Fleury, was Francois, her former footman, who had procured a
+pass to go to England as a hairdresser. The night before he set out
+was a happy night for Victoire, as all her companions met, by Mad.
+Feuillot's invitation, at her house; and after tea they had the
+pleasure of packing up the little box, in which each, besides the
+money, sent some token of their gratitude, and some proof of their
+ingenuity. They would with all their hearts have sent twice as many
+_souvenirs_ as Francois could carry.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was
+prepared for him to carry to England: but his good-nature was unable
+to resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, "which
+would take up no room."
+
+He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Mad. de Fleury, who
+was in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond. He delivered
+the money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the
+person to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not
+so punctual, or was more unlucky; for the letter never reached her,
+and she and her companions were long uncertain whether their little
+treasure had been received. They still continued, however, with
+indefatigable gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for
+their benefactress; and the pleasure they had in this perseverance
+made them more than amends for the loss of some little amusements,
+and for privations to which they submitted in consequence of their
+resolution.
+
+In the mean time Basile, going on steadily with his employments,
+advanced every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was
+increased in proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he
+thought he could now, without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his
+father, who approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the
+probability of his being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both
+his father and his friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself
+to Victoire, when he was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune.
+His father was taken up, by an emissary of Tracassier's, and brought
+before one of their revolutionary committees, where he was accused of
+various acts of incivisme. Among other things equally criminal, it was
+proved that one Sunday, when he went to see Le Petit Trianon, then a
+public-house, he exclaimed, "C'est ici que la canaille danse, et que
+les honnetes gens pleurent!"
+
+Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw him
+on the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given that
+he might save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the
+army out of France. Victoire was full in Basile's recollection--but
+there was no other means of saving his father. He enlisted, and in
+twenty-four hours left Paris.
+
+What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often
+prove ultimately the most advantageous. Indeed, those who have
+knowledge, activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks
+in the lottery of fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended to his
+commanding officer by the gentleman who had lately employed him as
+a clerk--his skill in drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of
+the country through which they passed, was extremely useful to his
+general; and his integrity made it safe to trust him as a secretary.
+His commanding officer, though a brave man, was illiterate, and a
+secretary was to him a necessary of life. Basile was not only useful,
+but agreeable; without any mean arts, or servile adulation, he
+pleased, by simply showing the desire to oblige, and the ability to
+serve.
+
+"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's plan
+of a town, which the army was besieging. "How comes it that you are
+able to do all these things? But you have a genius for this sort of
+work, apparently."
+
+"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me, when I was a
+child, by a good friend."
+
+"A good friend he was indeed! he did more for you than if he had
+given you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon
+taken from you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for
+yourself."
+
+This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is
+deserving of the serious consideration of those who have children
+of their own to educate, or who have the disposal of money for
+public charities. In these times, no sensible person will venture
+to pronounce that a change of fortune and station may not await
+the highest and the lowest; whether we rise or fall in the scale of
+society, personal qualities and knowledge will be valuable. Those who
+fall, cannot be destitute; and those who rise, cannot be ridiculous or
+contemptible, if they have been prepared for their fortune by proper
+education. In shipwreck, those who carry their all in their minds are
+the most secure.
+
+But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his general
+jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any
+officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
+understood.
+
+The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
+lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general,
+finding in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense,
+gradually acquired the habit of asking his opinion on every subject
+that came within his department. It happened that the general received
+orders from the Directory at Paris, to take a certain town, let
+it cost what it would, within a given time: in his perplexity, he
+exclaimed before Basile against the unreasonableness of these orders,
+and declared his belief that it was impossible he should succeed, and
+that this was only a scheme of his enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile
+had attended to the operations of the engineer who acted under the
+general, and perfectly recollected the model of the mines of this
+town, which he had seen when he was employed as draughtsman by his
+Parisian friend. He remembered, that there was formerly an old mine,
+that had been stopped up somewhere near the place where the engineer
+was at work; he mentioned _in private_ his suspicions to the general,
+who gave orders in consequence; the old mine was discovered, cleared
+out, and by these means the town was taken the day before the time
+appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the glory of this
+success--he kept his general's secret and his confidence. Upon their
+return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was more
+grateful than some others have been, perhaps because more room was
+given by Basile's prudence for the exercise of this virtue.
+
+"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service by
+your counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue. Speak now,
+and tell me freely, if there is any thing I can do for you. You
+see, as a victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these
+fellows--Tracassier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will at
+this moment he granted; speak freely, therefore."
+
+Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that M. and Mad. de
+Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their
+property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them.
+The general promised that this should be done. A warm contest
+ensued upon the subject between him and Tracassier; but the general
+stood firm; and Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and
+quarrelling irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his own,
+he and his adherents were driven from that station in which they had
+so long tyrannized. From being the rulers of France, they in a few
+hours became banished men, or, in the phrase of the times, _des
+deportes_.
+
+We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The man with
+whom she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid house
+she went upon the stage--did not succeed--sunk from one degree of
+profligacy to another; and at last died in an hospital.
+
+In the mean time, the order for the restoration of the Fleury
+property, and for permission for the Fleury family to return to
+France, was made out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the
+messenger of these good tidings:--he set out for England with the
+order.
+
+Victoire immediately went down to the Chateau de Fleury, to get every
+thing in readiness for the reception of the family.
+
+Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country.
+Victoire had but just time to complete her preparations, when M. and
+Mad. de Fleury arrived at Calais. Victoire had assembled all her
+companions, all Mad. de Fleury's former pupils; and the hour when she
+was expected home, they with the peasants of the neighbourhood were
+all in their holiday clothes, and according to the custom of the
+country singing and dancing. Without music and dancing there is
+no perfect joy in France. Never was _fete du village_ or _fete du
+Seigneur_ more joyful than this.
+
+The old steward opened the gate--the carriage drove in. Mad. de Fleury
+saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold; but
+all other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved
+pupils.
+
+"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got
+out of her carriage--"My dear _good_ children!"
+
+It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went
+into the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful
+excess of pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.
+
+Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
+appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke,
+and then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought
+their childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was
+changed the least, and at this she rejoiced.
+
+The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that
+Mad. de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of
+a day. She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction,
+repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her
+absence. She learned with delight how her restoration to her country
+and her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add,
+that Victoire consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably
+portioned, and, what is better still, that she was perfectly
+happy?--M. de Fleury rewarded the attachment and good conduct of
+Maurice, by taking him into his service; and making him his manager
+under the old steward at the Chateau de Fleury.
+
+On Victoire's wedding-day, Mad. de Fleury produced all the little
+offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her
+companions during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours,
+and she knew how to confer them both with grace and judgment.
+
+"No gratitude in human nature! No gratitude in the lower classes of
+the people!" cried she: "how much those are mistaken who think so!
+I wish they could know my history and the history of these _my
+children_, and they would acknowledge their error."
+
+_Edgeworthstown_, 1805.
+
+
+
+
+EMILIE DE COULANGES
+
+
+"I am young, I am in good health." said Emilie de Coulanges; "I am
+not to be pitied. But my poor mamma, who has been used all her life
+to such luxuries! And now to have only her Emilie to wait upon her!
+Her Emilie, who is but an awkward _femme de chambre_! But she will
+improve, it must be hoped; and as to the rest, things, which are now
+always changing, and which cannot change for the worse, must soon
+infallibly change for the better--and mamma will certainly recover
+all her property one of these days. In the mean time (if mamma is
+tolerably well), we shall be perfectly happy in England--that charming
+country, which, perhaps, we should never have seen but for this
+terrible revolution!--Here we shall assuredly find friends. The
+English are such good people!--Cold, indeed, at first--that's their
+misfortune: but then the English coldness is of manner, not of heart.
+Time immemorial, they have been famous for making the best friends in
+the world; and even to us, who are their _natural enemies_, they are
+generous in our distress. I have heard innumerable instances of their
+hospitality to our emigrants; and mamma will certainly not be the
+first exception. At her Hotel de Coulanges, she always received the
+English with distinguished attention; and though our hotel, with half
+Paris, has changed its name since those days, the English have too
+good memories to forget it, I am sure."
+
+By such speeches Emilie endeavoured to revive her mother's spirits.
+To a most affectionate disposition and a feeling heart she joined
+all the characteristic and constitutional gaiety of her nation; a
+gaiety which, under the pressure of misfortune, merits the name of
+philosophy, since it produces all the effects, and is not attended
+with any of the parade of stoicism.
+
+Emilie de Coulanges was a young French emigrant, of a noble family,
+and heiress to a large estate; but the property of her family had been
+confiscated during the revolution. She and her mother, la Comtesse
+de Coulanges, made their escape to England. Mad. de Coulanges was in
+feeble health, and much dispirited by the sudden loss of rank and
+fortune. Mlle. de Coulanges felt the change more for her mother than
+for herself; she always spoke of her mother's misfortunes, never of
+her own.
+
+Upon their arrival in London, Emilie, full of life and hope, went to
+present some of her mother's letters of recommendation. One of them
+was addressed to Mrs. Somers. Mlle. de Coulanges was particularly
+delighted by the manner in which she was received by this lady.
+
+"No English coldness!--no English reserve!--So warm in her expressions
+of kindness!--so eager in her offers of service!" Emilie could
+speak of nothing for the remainder of the day, but "cette charmante
+Mad. Somers!" The next day, and the next, and the next, she found
+increasing reasons to think her charming. Mrs. Somers exerted herself,
+indeed, with the most benevolent activity, to procure for Mad. de
+Coulanges every thing that could be convenient or agreeable. She
+prepared apartments in her own house for the mother and daughter,
+which she absolutely insisted upon their occupying immediately: she
+assured them that they should not be treated as visitors, but as
+inmates and friends of the family. She pressed her invitation with
+such earnestness, and so politely urged her absolute right to show her
+remembrance of the civilities which she had received at Paris, that
+there was no possibility of persisting in a refusal. The pride of high
+birth would have revolted at the idea of becoming dependent, but all
+such thoughts were precluded by the manner in which Mrs. Somers spoke;
+and the Comtesse de Coulanges accepted of the invitation, resolving,
+however, not to prolong her stay, if affairs in her own country should
+not take a favourable turn. She expected remittances from a Paris
+banker, with whom she had lodged a considerable sum--all that could be
+saved in ready money, in jewels, &c. from the wreck of her fortune:
+with this sum, if she should find all schemes of returning to France
+and recovering her property impracticable, she determined to live, in
+some retired part of England, in the most economical manner possible.
+But, in the mean time, as economy had never been either her theory or
+her practice, and as she considered retreat from _the world_ as the
+worst thing, next to death, that could befal a woman, she was glad to
+put off the evil hour. She acknowledged that ill health made her look
+some years older than she really was; but she could not think herself
+yet old enough to become _devout_; and, till that crisis arrived, she,
+of course, would not willingly be banished from _society_. So that,
+upon the whole, she was well satisfied to find herself established
+in Mrs. Somers's excellent house; where, but for the want of three
+antechambers, and of the Parisian quantity of looking-glass on every
+side of every apartment, la comtesse might have fancied herself at her
+own Hotel de Coulanges. Emilie would have been better contented to
+have been lodged and treated with less magnificence; but she rejoiced
+to see that her mother was pleased, and that she became freer from her
+_vapeurs noirs_[1]. Emilie began to love Mrs. Somers for making her
+mother well and happy--to love her with all the fearless enthusiasm of
+a young, generous mind, which accepts of obligation without any idea
+that gratitude may become burdensome. Mrs. Somers excited not only
+affection--she inspired admiration. Capable of the utmost exertion and
+of the most noble sacrifices for her friends, the indulgence of her
+generosity seemed not only to be the greatest pleasure of her soul,
+but absolutely necessary to her nature. To attempt to restrain her
+liberality was to provoke her indignation, or to incur her contempt.
+To refuse her benefits was to forfeit her friendship. She grew
+extremely fond of her present guests, because, without resistance,
+they permitted her to load them with favours. According to her custom,
+she found a thousand perfections in those whom she obliged. She had
+considered la Comtesse de Coulanges, when she knew her at Paris, as a
+very well-bred woman, but as nothing more; yet now she discovered that
+Mad. de Coulanges had a superior understanding and great strength
+of mind;--and Emilie, who had pleased her when a child, only by the
+ingenuous sweetness of her disposition and vivacity of her manners,
+was now become a complete angel--no angel had ever such a variety of
+accomplishments--none but an angel could possess such a combination of
+virtues. Mrs. Somers introduced her charming and noble emigrants to
+all her numerous and fashionable acquaintance; and she would certainly
+have quarrelled with any one who did not at least appear to sympathize
+in her sentiments. Fortunately there was no necessity for quarrelling;
+these foreigners were well received in every company, and Emilie
+pleased universally; or, as Mad. de Coulanges expressed it, "Elle
+avoit des grands _succes_ dans la societe." The French comtesse
+herself could hardly give more emphatic importance to the
+untranslateable word _succes_ than Mrs. Somers annexed to it upon
+this occasion. She was proud of producing Emilie as her protegee; and
+the approbation of others increased her own enthusiasm: much as she
+did for her favourite, she longed to do more.--An opportunity soon
+presented itself.
+
+[Footnote 1: _Vapeurs noirs_--vulgarly known by the name of _blue
+devils_.]
+
+One evening, after Mad. de Coulanges had actually tired herself with
+talking to the crowd, which her vivacity, grace, and volubility had
+attracted about her sofa, she ran to entrench herself in an arm-chair
+by the fireside, sprinkled the floor round her with _eau de senteur_,
+drew, with her pretty foot, a line of circumvallation, and then,
+shaking her tiny fan at the host of assailants, she forbade them,
+under pain of her sovereign displeasure, to venture within the magic
+circle, or to torment her by one more question or compliment. It was
+now absolutely necessary to be serious, and to study the politics of
+Europe. She called for the French newspapers, which Mrs. Somers had
+on purpose for her; and, provided with a pinch of snuff, from the
+ever-ready box of a French abbe, whose arm was permitted to cross
+the line of demarcation, Mad. de Coulanges began to study. Silence
+ensued--for novelty always produces silence in the first instant of
+surprise. An English gentleman wrote on the back of a letter an offer
+to his neighbour of a wager, that the silence would be first broken by
+the French countess, and that it could not last above two minutes. The
+wager was accepted, and watches were produced. Before the two minutes
+had expired, the pinch of snuff dropped from the countess's fingers,
+and, clasping her hands together, she exclaimed, "Ah! ciel!"--The
+surrounding gentlemen, who were full of their wager, and who had
+heard, from the lady, during the course of the evening, at least a
+dozen exclamations of nearly equal vehemence about the merest trifles,
+were more amused than alarmed at this instant: but Emilie, who knew
+her mother's countenance, and who saw the sudden change in it, pressed
+through the circle, and just caught her mother in her arms as she
+fainted. Mrs. Somers, much alarmed, hastened to her assistance. The
+countess was carried out of the room, and every body was full of
+pity and of curiosity. When Mad. de Coulanges recovered from her
+fainting-fit, she was seized with one of her nervous attacks; so that
+no explanation could be obtained. Emilie and Mrs. Somers looked over
+the French paper, but could not find any paragraph unusually alarming.
+At length, more composed, the countess apologized for the disturbance
+which she had occasioned; thanked Mrs. Somers repeatedly for her
+kindness; but spoke in a hurried manner, as if she did not well know
+what she said. She concluded by declaring that she was subject to
+these nervous attacks, that she should be quite well the next morning,
+and that she did not wish that any one should sit up with her during
+the night except Emilie, who was used to her ways. With that true
+politeness which understands quickly the feelings and wishes of
+others, Mrs. Somers forbore to make any ill-timed inquiries or
+officious offers of assistance; but immediately retired, and ordered
+the attendants to leave the room, that Mad. de Coulanges and her
+daughter might be at perfect liberty. Early in the morning Mrs. Somers
+heard somebody knock softly at her door. It was Emilie.
+
+"Mrs. Masham told me that you were awake, madam, or I should not--"
+
+"Come in, come in, my dearest Emilie--I am awake--wide awake. Is your
+mother better?"
+
+"Alas! no, madam!"
+
+"Sit down, my dear, and do not call me _madam_, so coldly.--I do not
+deserve it."
+
+"My dear friend! friend of mamma! my dearest friend!" cried Emilie,
+bursting into tears, and seizing Mrs. Somers' hand; "do not accuse
+me of coldness to you. I am always afraid that my French expressions
+should sound exaggerated to English ears, and that you should think I
+say too much to be sincere in expressing my gratitude."
+
+"My sweet Emilie, who could doubt your sincerity?--none but a brute or
+a fool: but do not talk to me of gratitude."
+
+"I must," said Emilie; "for I feel it."
+
+"Prove it to me, then, in the manner I like best--in the only manner
+I like--by putting it in my power to serve you. I do not intrude upon
+your mother's confidence--I make no inquiries; but do me the justice
+to tell me how I can be of use to her--or rather to you. From you I
+expect frankness. Command my fortune, my time, my credit, my utmost
+exertions--they are all, they ever have been, they ever shall be,
+whilst I have life, at the command of my friends. And are not you my
+friend?"
+
+"Generous lady!--You overpower me with your goodness."
+
+"No praises, no speeches!--Actions for me!--Tell me how I can serve
+you."
+
+"Alas! _you_, even you, can do us no good in this business."
+
+"That I will never believe, till I know the business."
+
+"The worst of it is," said Emilie, "that we must leave you."
+
+"Leave me! Impossible!" cried Mrs. Somers, starting up.--You shall not
+leave me, that I am determined upon. Why cannot you speak out at once,
+and tell me what is the matter, Emilie? How can I act, unless I am
+trusted? and who deserves to be trusted by you, if I do not?"
+
+"Assuredly nobody deserves it better; and if it were only my affair,
+dear Mrs. Somers, you should have known it as soon as I knew it
+myself; but it is mamma's, more than mine."
+
+"Madame la comtesse, then, does not think me worthy of her
+confidence," said Mrs. Somers, in a haughty tone, whilst displeasure
+clouded her whole countenance. "Is that what I am to understand from
+you, Mille. de Coulanges?"
+
+"No, no; that is not what you are to understand, dear madam--my dear
+friend, I should say," cried Emilie, alarmed. "Certainly I have
+explained myself ill, or you could not suspect mamma for a moment of
+such injustice. She knows you to be most worthy of her confidence; but
+on this occasion her reserve, believe me, proceeds solely from motives
+of delicacy, of which you could not but approve."
+
+"Motives of delicacy, my dear Emilie," said Mrs. Somers, softening her
+tone, but still with an air of dissatisfaction--"motives of delicacy,
+my dear Emilie, are mighty pretty sounding words; and at your age I
+used to think them mighty grand things; but I have long since found
+out that _motives of delicacy_ are usually the excuse of weak minds
+for not speaking the plain truth to their friends. People quit the
+straight path from motives of delicacy, may be, to a worm or a
+beetle--vulgar souls, observe, I rank only as worms and beetles; they
+cross our path every instant in life; and those who fear to give them
+offence must deviate and deviate, till they get into a labyrinth,
+from which they can never extricate themselves, or be extricated. My
+Emilie, I am sure, will always keep the straight road--I know her
+strength of mind. Indeed, I did expect strength of mind from her
+mother; but, like all who have lived a great deal in the world, she
+is, I find, a slave to motives of delicacy."
+
+"Mamma's delicacy is of a very different sort from what you describe,
+and what you dislike," said Emilie. "But, since persisting in her
+reserve would, as I see, offend one whom she would be most sorry to
+displease, permit me to go this moment and persuade her to let me tell
+you the simple truth."
+
+"Go--run, my dear. Now I know my Emilie again. Now I shall be able to
+do some good."
+
+By the time that Emilie returned, Mrs. Somers was dressed: she had
+dressed in the greatest hurry imaginable, that she might be ready for
+action--instantaneous action--if the service of her friends, as she
+hoped, required it. Emilie brought the newspaper in her hand, which
+her mother had been reading the preceding night.
+
+"Here is all the mystery," said she, pointing to a paragraph which
+announced the failure of a Paris banker. "Mamma lodged all the money
+she had left in this man's hands."
+
+"And is that all?--I really expected something much more terrible."
+
+"It is terrible to mamma; because, depending on this man's
+punctuality, she has bought in London clothes and trinkets--chiefly
+for me, indeed--and she has no immediate means of paying these debts;
+but, if she will only keep her mind tranquil, all will yet be well.
+You flatter me that I play tolerably on the piano-forte and the harp;
+you will recommend me, and I can endeavour to teach music. So that, if
+mamma will but be well, we shall not be in any great distress--except
+in leaving you; that is painful, but must be done. Yes, it absolutely
+must. Mamma knows what is proper, and so do I. We are not people to
+encroach upon the generosity of our friends. I need not say more;
+for I am sure that Mrs. Somers, who is herself so well-born and
+well-educated, must understand and approve of mamma's way of
+thinking."
+
+Mrs. Somers replied not one word, but rang her bell violently--ordered
+her carriage.
+
+"Do not you breakfast, madam, before you go out?" said the servant.
+
+"No--no."
+
+"Not a dish of chocolate, ma'am?"
+
+"My carriage, I tell you.--Emilie, you have been up all night: I
+insist upon your going to bed this minute, and upon your sleeping till
+I come back again. La comtesse always breakfasts in her own room; so I
+have no apologies to make for leaving her. I shall be at home before
+her toilette is finished, and hope she will then permit me to pay
+my respects to her--you will tell her so, my dear. I must be gone
+instantly.--Why will they not let me have this carriage?--Where are
+those gloves of mine?--and the key of my writing-desk?--Ring again for
+the coach."
+
+Between the acting of a generous thing and the first motion, all the
+interim was, with Mrs. Somers, a delicious phantasma; and her ideas of
+time and distance were as extravagant as those of a person in a dream.
+She very nearly ran over Emilie in her way down stairs, and then said,
+"Oh! I beg pardon a thousand times, my dear!--I thought you had been
+in bed an hour ago."
+
+The toilette of Mad. de Coulanges, this morning, went on at the usual
+rate. Whether in adversity or prosperity, this was to la comtesse an
+elaborate, but never a tedious work. Long as it had lasted, it was,
+however, finished; and she had full leisure for a fit and a half of
+the vapours, before Mrs. Somers returned--she came in with a face
+radiant with joy.
+
+"Fortunately, most fortunately," cried she, "I have it in my power to
+repair the loss occasioned by the failure of this good-for-nothing
+banker! Nay, positively, Mad. de Coulanges, I must not be refused,"
+continued she, in a peremptory manner. "You make an enemy, if you
+refuse a friend."
+
+She laid a pocket-book on the table, and left the room instantly. The
+pocket-book contained notes to a very considerable amount, surpassing
+the sum which Mad. de Coulanges had lost by her banker; and on a
+scrap of paper was written in pencil "Mad. de Coulanges must never
+return this sum, for it is utterly useless to Mrs. Somers; as
+the superfluities it was appropriated to purchase are now in the
+possession of one who will not sell them."
+
+Astonished equally at the magnitude and the manner of the gift, Mad.
+de Coulanges repeated, a million of times, that it was "noble! tres
+noble! une belle action!"--that she could not possibly accept of such
+an obligation--that she could not tell how to refuse it--that Mrs.
+Somers was the most generous woman upon earth--that Mrs. Somers had
+thrown her into a terrible embarrassment.
+
+Then la comtesse had recourse to her smelling-bottle, consulted
+Emilie's eyes, and answered them.
+
+"Child! I have no thoughts of accepting; but I only ask you how I can
+refuse, after what has been said, without making Mrs. Somers my enemy?
+You see her humour--English humours must not be trifled with--her
+humour, you see, is to give. It is a shocking thing for people of our
+birth to be reduced to receive, but we cannot avoid it without losing
+Mrs. Somers' friendship entirely; and that is what you would not wish
+to do, Emilie."
+
+"Oh, no, indeed!"
+
+"Now we must be under obligations to our milliner and jeweller, if we
+do not pay them immediately; for these sort of people call it a favour
+to give credit for a length of time: and I really think that it is
+much better to be indebted to Mrs. Somers than to absolute strangers
+and to rude tradespeople. It is always best to have to deal with
+polite persons."
+
+"And with generous persons!" cried Emilie; "and a more generous person
+than Mrs. Somers, I am sure, cannot exist."
+
+"And then," continued Mad. de Coulanges, "like all these rich English,
+she can afford to be generous. I am persuaded that this Mrs. Somers is
+as rich as a Russian princess; yes, as rich as the Russian princess
+with the superb diadem of diamonds. You remember her at Paris?"
+
+"No, mamma, I forget her," answered Emilie, with a look of absence of
+mind.
+
+"Bon Dieu! what can you be thinking of?" exclaimed Mad. de Coulanges.
+"You forget the Russian princess, with the diamond diadem, that was
+valued at 200,000 livres! She wore it at her presentation--it was the
+conversation of Paris for a week: you must recollect it, Emilie?"
+
+"Oh, yes: I recollect something about its cutting her forehead."
+
+"Not at all, my dear; how you exaggerate! The princess only
+complained, by way of something to say, that the weight of the
+diamonds made her head ache.
+
+"Was that all?"
+
+"That was all. But I will tell you what you are thinking of,
+Emilie--quite another thing--quite another person--broad Mad.
+Vanderbenbruggen: her diamonds were not worth looking at; and they
+were so horribly set, that she deserved all manner of misfortunes, and
+to be disgraced in public, as she was. For you know the bandeau slipt
+over her great forehead; and instead of turning to the gentlemen, and
+ordering some man of sense to arrange her head-dress, she kept holding
+her stiff neck stock still, like an idiot; she actually sat, with the
+patience of a martyr, two immense hours, till somebody cried, 'Ah!
+madame, here is the blood coming!' I see her before me this instant.
+Is it possible, my dear Emilie, that you do not remember the
+difference between this _buche_ of a Mad. Vanderbenbruggen, and our
+charming princess? but you are as dull as Mad. Vanderbenbruggen
+herself, this morning."
+
+The vivacious countess having once seized upon the ideas of Mad.
+Vanderbenbruggen, the charming princess, and the fine diamonds, it was
+some time before Emilie could recall her to the order of the day--to
+the recollection of her banker's failure, and of the necessity of
+giving an answer to generous Mrs. Somers. The decision of Mad. de
+Coulanges was probably at last influenced materially by the gay ideas
+of "stars and dukes, and all their sweeping train," associated with
+Mad. Vanderbenbruggen's image. The countess observed, that, after
+the style in which she had been used to live in the first company
+at Paris, it would be worse than death to be buried alive in some
+obscure country town in England; and that she would rather see Emilie
+guillotined at once, than condemned, with all her grace and talents,
+to work, like a galley slave, at a tambour frame for her bread all the
+days of her life.
+
+Emilie assured her mother that she should cheerfully submit to much
+greater evils than that of working at a tambour frame; and that, as
+far as her own feelings were concerned, she should infinitely prefer
+living by labour to becoming dependent. She therefore intreated that
+her mother might not, from any false tenderness for her Emilie, decide
+contrary to her own principles or wishes.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges, after looking in the glass, at length determined
+that it would be best to accept of Mrs. Somers' generous offer; and
+Emilie, who usually contrived to find something agreeable in all her
+mother's decisions, rejoiced that by this determination, Mrs. Somers
+at least would be pleased. Mrs. Somers, indeed, was highly gratified;
+and her expressions of satisfaction were so warm, that any body would
+have thought she was the person receiving, instead of conferring, a
+great favour. She thanked Emilie, in particular, for having vanquished
+her mother's false delicacy. Emilie blushed at hearing this undeserved
+praise; and assured Mrs. Somers that all the merit was her mother's.
+
+"What!" cried Mrs. Somers hastily, "was it contrary to your
+opinion?--Were you treacherous--were you my enemy--Mlle. de
+Coulanges?"
+
+Emilie replied that she had left the decision to her mother; that
+she confessed she had felt some reluctance to receive a pecuniary
+obligation, even from Mrs. Somers; but that she had rather be obliged
+to her than to any body in the world, except to her mamma.
+
+This explanation was not perfectly satisfactory to Mrs. Somers, and
+there was a marked coldness in her manner towards Emilie during the
+remainder of the day. Her affectionate and grateful disposition made
+her extremely sensible to this change; and, when she retired to her
+own room at night, she sat down beside her bed, and shed tears for the
+first time since she had been in England. Mrs. Somers happened to go
+into Emilie's room to leave some message for Mad. de Coulanges--she
+found Emilie in tears--inquired the cause--was touched and flattered
+by her sensibility--kissed her--blamed herself--confessed she had been
+extremely unreasonable--acknowledged that her temper was naturally too
+hasty and susceptible, especially with those she loved--but assured
+Emilie that this, which had been their first, should be their last
+quarrel;--a rash promise, considering the circumstances in which they
+were both placed. Those who receive and those who confer great favours
+are both in difficult situations; but the part of the benefactor is
+the most difficult to support with propriety. What a combination of
+rare qualities is essential for this purpose! Amongst others, sense,
+delicacy and temper. Mrs. Somers possessed all but the last; and,
+unluckily, she was not sensible of the importance of this deficiency.
+Confident and proud, that, upon all the grand occasions where
+the human heart is put to the trial, she could display superior
+generosity, she disdained attention to the minutiae of kindness.
+This was inconvenient to her friends; because occasion for a great
+sacrifice of the heart occurs, perhaps, but once in a life, whilst
+small sacrifices of temper are requisite every day, and every hour[1].
+
+[Footnote 1: Since this was written, the author has seen the same
+thoughts so much better expressed in the following lines that she
+cannot forbear to quote them:
+
+  "Since trifles make the sum of human things,
+  And half our mis'ry from our foibles springs;
+  Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease,
+  And few can save or serve, but all may please:
+  Oh! let th'ungentle spirit learn from hence,
+  A small unkindness is a great offence.
+  Large bounties to bestow we wish in vain;
+  But all may shun the guilt of giving pain."
+
+SENSIBILITY. _By Mrs. H. More._]
+
+Mrs. Somers had concealed from Mad. de Coulanges and from Emilie the
+full extent of their obligation: she told them, that the sum of money
+which she offered had become useless to her, because it had been
+destined to the purchase of some superfluities, which were now in
+the possession of another person. The fact was, that she had been in
+treaty for two fine pictures, a Guido and a Correggio; these pictures
+might have been hers, but that on the morning, when she heard of
+the failure of the banker of Mad. de Coulanges, she had hastened to
+prevent the money from being paid for them. She was extremely fond
+of paintings, and had long and earnestly desired to possess these
+celebrated pictures; so that she had really made a great sacrifice
+of her taste and of her vanity. For some time she was satisfied with
+her own self-complacent reflections: but presently she began to be
+displeased that Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie did not see the full
+extent of her sacrifice. She became provoked by their want of
+penetration in not discovering all that she studiously concealed; and
+her mind, going on rapidly from one step to another, decided that this
+want of penetration arose from a deficiency of sensibility.
+
+One day, some of her visitors, who were admiring the taste with
+which she had newly furnished a room, inquired for what those two
+compartments were intended, looking at the compartments which had been
+prepared for the famous pictures. Mrs. Somers replied that she had not
+yet determined what she should put there: she glanced her eye upon
+Mad. de Coulanges and upon Emilie, to observe whether they _felt as
+they ought to do_. Mad. de Coulanges, imagining that an appeal was
+made to her taste, decidedly answered, that nothing would have so fine
+an effect as handsome looking-glasses: "Such," added she, "as we
+have at Paris. No house is furnished without them--they are absolute
+necessaries of life. And, no doubt, these places were originally
+intended for mirrors."
+
+"No," said Mrs. Somers, dryly, and with a look of great displeasure:
+"No, madame la comtesse, those places were not originally intended for
+looking-glasses."
+
+The countess secretly despised Mrs. Somers for her want of taste; but,
+being too well bred to dispute the point, she confessed that she was
+no judge--that she knew nothing of the matter; and then immediately
+turned to her abbe, and asked him if he remembered the superb mirrors
+in Mad. de V----'s charming house on the Boulevards. "It is," said
+she, "in my opinion one of the very best houses in Paris. There you
+enter the principal apartments by an antechamber, such as you ought to
+see in a great house, with real ottomanes, covered with buff trimmed
+with black velvet; and then you pass through the spacious salle a
+manger and the delightful saloon, hung with blue silk, to the _bijou_
+of a boudoir, that looks out upon the garden, with the windows shaded
+by the most beautiful flowering shrubs in summer, and in winter
+adorned with exotics. Then you see, through the plate-glass door of
+the boudoir, into the gallery of paintings--I call it a gallery, but
+it is, in fact, a delightful room, not a gallery--where you are not to
+perish in cold, whilst you admire the magnificence of the place. Not
+at all: it is warmed by a large stove, and you may examine the fine
+pictures at your ease, or, as you English would say, in comfort. This
+gallery must have cost M. de V---- an immense sum. The connoisseurs
+say that it is really the best collection of Flemish pictures in the
+possession of any individual in France. By-the-bye, Mrs. Somers, there
+is, amongst others, an excellent Van Dyck, a portrait of your Charles
+the First, when a boy, which I wonder that none of you rich English
+have purchased."
+
+The countenance of Mrs. Somers had clouded over more and more during
+this speech; but the heedless countess went on, with her usual
+volubility.
+
+"Yet, no doubt, M. de V---- would not sell this Van Dyck: but he
+would, I am told, part with his superb collection of prints, which
+cost him 30,000 of your pounds. He must look for a purchaser amongst
+those Polish and Russian princes who have nothing to do with their
+riches--for instance, my friend Lewenhof, who complained that he was
+not able to spend half his income in Paris; that he could not contrive
+to give an entertainment that cost him money enough. What can he do
+better than commence amateur?--then he might throw away money as fast
+as his heart could wish. M. l'abbe, why do not you, or some man of
+letters, write directly, and advise him to this, for the good of his
+country? What a figure those prints would make in Petersburgh!--and
+how they would polish the Russians! But, as a good Frenchwoman, I
+ought to wish them to remain at Paris: they certainly cannot be better
+than where they are."
+
+"True," cried Emilie, "they cannot be better than where they are, in
+the possession of those generous friends. I used to love to see Mad.
+de V---- in the midst of all her fine things, of which she thought so
+little. Her very looks are enough to make one happy--all radiant with
+good-humoured benevolence. I am sure one might always salute Mad.
+de V---- with the Chinese compliment, 'Felicity is painted in your
+countenance.'"
+
+This was a compliment which could not be paid to Mrs. Somers at the
+present instant; for her countenance was as little expressive of
+felicity as could well be imagined. Emilie, who suddenly turned and
+saw it, was so much struck that she became immediately silent. There
+was a dead pause in the conversation. Mad. de Coulanges was the only
+unembarrassed person in company; she was very contentedly arranging
+her hair upon her forehead opposite to a looking-glass. Mrs. Somers
+broke the silence by observing, that, in her opinion, there was no
+occasion for more mirrors in this room; and she added, in a voice
+of suppressed anger, "I did originally intend to have filled those
+unfortunate blanks with something more to my taste."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges was too much occupied with her ringlets to hear or
+heed this speech. Mrs. Somers fixed her indignant eyes upon Emilie,
+who, perceiving that she was offended, yet not knowing by what, looked
+embarrassed, and simply answered, "Did you?"
+
+This reply, which seemed as neutral as words could make it, and which
+was uttered not only with a pacific, but with an intimidated tone,
+incensed Mrs. Somers beyond measure. It put the finishing stroke
+to the whole conversation. All that had been said about elegant
+houses--antechambers--mirrors--pictures--amateurs--throwing away
+money; and the generous Mad. de V----, _who was always good-humoured_,
+Mrs. Somers fancied was meant _for her_. She decided that it was
+absolutely impossible that Emilie could be so stupid as not to have
+perfectly understood that the compartments had been prepared for the
+Guido and Correggio, which she had so generously sacrificed; and the
+total want of feeling--of common civility--evinced by Emilie's reply,
+was astonishing, was incomprehensible.
+
+The more she reflected upon the words, the more of artifice, of
+duplicity, of ingratitude, of insult, of meanness she discovered in
+them. In her cold fits of ill-humour, this lady was prone to degrade,
+as monsters below the standard of humanity, those whom, in the warmth
+of her enthusiasm, she had exalted to the state of angelic perfection.
+Emilie, though aware that she had unwittingly offended, was not aware
+how low she had sunk in her friend's opinion: she endeavoured, by
+playful wit and caresses, to atone for her fault, and to reinstate
+herself in her favour. But playful wit and caresses were aggravating
+crimes; they were proofs of obstinacy in deceit, of a callous
+conscience, and of a heart that was not to be touched by the marked
+displeasure of a benefactress. Three days and three nights did the
+displeasure of Mrs. Somers continue in full force, and manifest itself
+by a variety of signs, which were lost upon Mad. de Coulanges, but
+which were all intelligible to poor Emilie. She made several attempts
+to bring on an explanation, by saying, "Are you not well?--Is any
+thing the matter, dear Mrs. Somers?" But these questions were always
+coldly answered by, "I am perfectly well, I thank you, Mlle. de
+Coulanges--why should you imagine that any thing is the matter with
+me?"
+
+At the end of the third day of reprobation, Emilie, who could no
+longer endure this state, resolved to take courage and to ask pardon
+for her unknown offence. That night she went, trembling like a real
+criminal, into Mrs. Somers' dressing-room, kissed her forehead, and
+said, "I hope you have not such a headache as I have?"
+
+"Have you the headache?--I am sorry for it," said Mrs. Somers; "but
+you should take something for it--what will you take?"
+
+"I will take nothing, except--your forgiveness."
+
+"My forgiveness!--you astonish me, Mlle. de Coulanges! I am sure that
+I ought to ask yours, if I have said a word that could possibly give
+you reason to imagine I am angry--I really am not conscious of any
+such thing; but if you will point it out to me--"
+
+"You cannot imagine that I come to accuse you, dear Mrs. Somers; I do
+not attempt even to justify myself: I am convinced that, if you are
+displeased, it cannot be without reason."
+
+"But still you do not tell me how I have shown this violent
+displeasure: I have not, to the best of my recollection, said an angry
+or a hasty word."
+
+"No; but when we love people, we know when they are offended, without
+their saying a hasty word--your manner has been so different towards
+me these three days past."
+
+"My manner is very unfortunate. It is impossible always to keep a
+guard over our manners: it is sufficient, I think, to guard our
+words."
+
+"Pray do not guard either with me," said Emilie; "for I would a
+thousand times rather that a friend should say or look the most angry
+things, than that she should conceal from me what she thought; for
+then, you know, I might displease her continually without knowing it,
+and perhaps lose her esteem and affection irretrievably, before I was
+aware of my danger--and with _you_--with you, to whom we owe so much!"
+
+Touched by the feeling manner in which Emilie spoke, and by the
+artless expression of her countenance, Mrs. Somers' anger vanished,
+and she exclaimed, "I have been to blame--I ask your pardon, Emilie--I
+have been much to blame--I have been very unjust--very ill-humoured--I
+see I was quite wrong--I see that I was quite mistaken in what I
+imagined."
+
+"And what did you imagine?" said Emilie.
+
+"_That_ you must excuse me from telling," said Mrs. Somers; "I am too
+much ashamed of it--too much ashamed of myself. Besides, it was a sort
+of thing that I could not well explain, if I were to set about it; in
+short, it was the silliest trifle in the world: but I assure you that
+if I had not loved you very much, I should not have been so foolishly
+angry. You must forgive these little infirmities of temper--you know
+my heart is as it should be."
+
+Emilie embraced Mrs. Somers affectionately; and, in her joy at this
+reconciliation, and in the delight she felt at being relieved from the
+uneasiness which she had suffered for three days, loved her friend the
+better for this quarrel: she quite forgot the pain in the pleasure of
+the reconciliation; and thought that, even if Mrs. Somers had been in
+the wrong, the candour with which she acknowledged it more than made
+amends for the error.
+
+"You must forgive these little infirmities of temper--you know my
+heart is as it should be."
+
+Emilie repeated these words, and said to herself, "Forgive them! yes,
+surely; I should be the most ungrateful of human beings if I did
+otherwise."
+
+Without being the most ungrateful of human beings, Emilie, however,
+found it very difficult to keep her resolution.
+
+Almost every day she felt the apprehension or the certainty of having
+offended her benefactress: and the causes by which she gave offence
+were sometimes so trifling as to elude her notice; so mysterious,
+that they could not be discovered; or so various and anomalous, that,
+even when she was told in what manner she had displeased, she could
+not form any rule, or draw any inference, for her future conduct.
+Sometimes she offended by differing, sometimes by agreeing, in taste
+or opinion with Mrs. Somers. Sometimes she perceived that she was
+thought positive; at other times, too complying. A word, a look,
+or even silence--passive silence--was sufficient to affront this
+susceptible lady. Then she would go on with a string of deductions, or
+rather of imaginations, to prove that there must be something wrong
+in Emilie's disposition; and she would insist upon it, that she knew
+better what was passing, or what would pass, in her mind, than Emilie
+could know herself. Nothing provoked Mrs. Somers more than the want
+of success in any of her active attempts to make others happy. She
+was continually angry with Emilie for not being sufficiently pleased
+or grateful for things which she had not the vanity to suspect were
+intended for her gratification, or which were not calculated to
+contribute to her amusement: this humility, or this difference of
+taste, was always considered as affectation or perversity. One day,
+Mrs. Somers was angry with Emilie because she did not thank her for
+inviting a celebrated singer to her concert; but Emilie had no idea
+that the singer was invited on her account: of this nothing could
+convince Mrs. Somers. Another day, she was excessively displeased
+because Emilie was not so much entertained as she had expected her to
+be at the installation of a knight of the garter.
+
+"Mad. de Coulanges expressed a wish to see the ceremony of the
+installation; and, though I hate such things myself, I took prodigious
+pains to procure tickets, and to have you well placed--"
+
+"Indeed, I was very sensible of it, dear madam."
+
+"May be so, my dear; but you did not look as if you were: you seemed
+tired to death, and said you were sleepy; and ten times repeated,
+'Ah! qu'il fait chaud!' But this is what I am used to--what I have
+experienced all my life. The more pains a person takes to please and
+oblige, the less they can succeed, and the less gratitude they are to
+expect."
+
+Emilie reproached herself, and resolved that, upon the next similar
+trial, she would not complain of being sleepy or tired; and that she
+would take particular care not to say--"Ah! qu'il fait chaud!" A short
+time afterwards she was in a crowded assembly, at the house of a
+friend of Mrs. Somers, a _rout_--a species of entertainment of which
+she had not seen examples in her own country (it appeared to her
+rather a barbarous mode of amusement, to meet in vast crowds, to
+squeeze or to be squeezed, without a possibility of enjoying any
+rational conversation). Emilie was fatigued, and almost fainting,
+from the heat, but she bore it all with a smiling countenance, and
+heroic gaiety; for this night she was determined not to displease
+Mrs. Somers. On their return home, she was rather surprised and
+disappointed to find this lady in a fit of extreme ill-humour.
+
+"I wanted to get away two hours ago," cried she; "but you would not
+understand any of my hints, Mlle. de Coulanges; and when I asked you
+whether you did not find it very hot, you persisted in saying, 'Not in
+the least--not in the least.'"
+
+Mrs. Somers was the more angry upon this occasion, because she
+recollected having formerly reproached Emilie, at the installation,
+for complaining of the heat; and she persuaded herself, that this was
+an instance of perversity in Emilie's temper, and a sly method of
+revenging herself for the past. Nothing could be more improbable, from
+a girl of such a frank, forgiving, sweet disposition; and no one would
+have been so ready to say so as Mrs. Somers in another mood; but the
+moment that she was irritated, she judged without common sense--never
+from general observations, but always from particular instances. It
+was in vain that Emilie disclaimed the motives attributed to her: she
+was obliged to wait the return of her friend's reason, and in the
+mean time to bear her reproaches--she did with infinite patience.
+Unfortunately this patience soon became the source of fresh evils.
+Because Emilie was so gentle, and so ready to acknowledge and to
+believe herself to be in the wrong, Mrs. Somers became convinced that
+she herself was in the right in all her complaints; and she fancied
+that she had great merit in passing over so many defects in one whom
+she had so much obliged, and who professed so much gratitude. Between
+the fits of her ill-humour, she would, however, waken to the full
+sense of Emilie's goodness, and would treat her with particular
+kindness, as if to make amends for the past. Then, if Emilie could
+not immediately resume that easy, gay familiarity of manner, which
+she used to have before experience had taught her the fear of
+offending, Mrs. Somers grew angry again and decided that Emilie had
+not sufficient elevation of soul to understand her character, or to
+forgive the _little infirmities_ of the best of friends. When she was
+under the influence of this suspicion, every thing that Emilie said or
+looked was confirmation strong. Mrs. Somers was apt in conversation to
+throw out general reflections that were meant to apply to particular
+persons; or to speak with one meaning obvious to all the company, and
+another to be understood only by some individual whom she wished to
+reproach. This art, which she had often successfully practised upon
+Emilie, she, for that reason, suspected that Emilie tried upon her.
+And then the utmost ingenuity was employed to torture words into
+strange meanings: she would misinterpret the plainest expressions, or
+attribute to them some double, mysterious signification.
+
+One evening Emilie had been reading a new novel, the merits of which
+were eagerly discussed by the company. Some said that the heroine
+was a fool: others, that she was a mad woman; some, that she was not
+either, but that she acted as if she were both; another party asserted
+that she was every thing that was great and good, and that it was
+impossible to paint in truer colours the passion of love. Mrs. Somers
+declared herself of this opinion; but Emilie, who happened not to be
+present when this declaration was made, on coming into the room and
+joining in the conversation, gave a diametrically opposite judgment:
+she said, that the author had painted the enthusiasm with which the
+heroine yielded to her passion, instead of the violence of the passion
+to which she yielded. The French abbe, to whom Emilie made this
+observation, repeated it triumphantly to Mrs. Somers, who immediately
+changed colour, and replied in a constrained voice, "Certainly that is
+a very apposite remark, and vastly well expressed; and I give Mlle. de
+Coulanges infinite credit for it."
+
+Emilie, who knew every inflection of Mrs. Somers' voice, and every
+turn of her countenance, perceived that these words of praise were
+accompanied with strong feelings of displeasure. She was much
+embarrassed, especially as her friend fixed her eyes upon her whilst
+she blushed; and this made her blush ten times more: she was afraid
+that the company, who were silent, should take notice of her distress;
+and therefore she went on talking very fast about the novel, though
+scarcely knowing what she said. She made sundry blunders in names and
+characters, which were eagerly corrected by the astonished Mad. de
+Coulanges, who could not conceive how any body could forget the
+dramatis personae of the novel of the day. Mrs. Somers, all the time,
+preserved silence, as if she dared not trust herself to speak; but
+her compressed lips showed sufficiently the constraint under which
+she laboured. Whilst every body else went on talking, and helping
+themselves to refreshments which the servants were handing about,
+Mrs. Somers continued leaning on the mantel-piece in a deep reverie,
+pulling her bracelet round and round upon her wrist, till she was
+roused by Mad. de Coulanges, who appealed for judgment upon her new
+method of preparing an orange.
+
+"C'est a la corbeille--Tenez!" cried she, holding it by a slender
+handle of orange-peel; "Tenez! c'est a la corbeille!"
+
+Mrs. Somers, with a forced smile admired the orange-basket; but said,
+that, for her part, her hands were not sufficiently dexterous to
+imitate this fashion: "I," said she, "can only do like the king of
+Prussia and _other people_--squeeze the orange, and throw the peel
+away. By-the-bye, how absurd it was of Voltaire to be angry with the
+king of Prussia for that witty and just apologue!"
+
+"_Just!_" repeated Emilie.
+
+"Just!" reiterated Mrs. Somers, in a harsh voice: "surely you think
+it so. For my part, I like the king the better for avowing his
+principles--all the world act as he did, though few avow it."
+
+"What!" said Emilie, in a low voice, "do not you believe in the
+reality of gratitude?"
+
+"Apparently," cried Mad. de Coulanges, who was still busy with her
+orange, "apparently, madame is a disciple of our Rochefoucault, and
+allows of no principle but self-love. In that case, I shall have as
+bitter quarrels with her as I have with you, mon cher abbe;--for
+Rochefoucault is a man I detest, or rather, I detest his maxims--the
+duke himself, they say, was the most amiable man of his day. Only
+conceive, that such a man should ascribe all our virtues to self-love
+and vanity!"
+
+"And, perhaps," said the abbe, "it was merely vanity that made him say
+so--he wished to write a witty satirical book; but I will lay a wager
+he did not think as ill of human nature as he speaks of it."
+
+"He could hardly speak or think too ill of it," said Mrs. Somers, "if
+he judged of human nature by such speeches as that of the king of
+Prussia about his friend and the orange."
+
+"But," said Emilie, in a timid voice, "would it not be doing poor
+human nature injustice to judge of it by such words as those? I am
+convinced, with M. l'abbe, that some men, for the sake of appearing
+witty, speak more malevolently than they feel; and, perhaps, this was
+the case with the king of Prussia."
+
+"And Mlle. de Coulanges thinks, then," said Mrs. Somers, "that it
+is quite allowable, for the sake of appearing witty, to speak
+malevolently?"
+
+"Dear madam! dear Mrs. Somers!--no!" cried Emilie; "you quite
+misunderstood me."
+
+"Pardon me, I thought you were justifying the king of Prussia,"
+continued Mrs. Somers; "and I do not well see how that can be done
+without allowing--what many people do in practice, though not in
+theory--that it is right, and becoming, and prudent, to sacrifice a
+friend for a bon-mot."
+
+The angry emphasis, and pointed manner, in which Mrs. Somers spoke
+these words, terrified and completely abashed Emilie, who saw that
+something more was meant than met the ear. In her confusion she ran
+over a variety of thoughts; but she could not recollect any thing
+that she had ever said, which merited the name of a bon-mot--and a
+malevolent bon-mot! "Surely what I said about that foolish novel
+cannot have offended Mrs. Somers?--How is it possible!--She cannot
+be so childish as to be angry with me merely for differing with her
+in opinion. What I said might be bad criticism, but it could not be
+malevolent; it referred only to the heroine of a novel. Perhaps the
+author may be a friend of hers, or some person who is in distress,
+and whom she has generously taken under her protection. Why did not I
+think of this before?--I was wrong to give my opinion so decidedly:
+but then my opinion is of so little consequence; assuredly it can
+neither do good nor harm to any author. When Mrs. Somers considers
+this, she will be pacified; and when she is once cool again, she will
+feel that I could not mean to say any thing ill-natured."
+
+The moment Mrs. Somers saw that Emilie was sensible of her
+displeasure, she exerted herself to assume, during the remainder of
+the evening, an extraordinary appearance of gaiety and good-humour.
+Every body shared her smiles and kindness, except the unfortunate
+object of her indignation: she behaved towards Mlle. de Coulanges with
+the most punctilious politeness; but "all the cruel language of the
+eye" was sufficiently expressive of her real feelings. Emilie bore
+with this infirmity of temper with resolute patience: she expected
+that the fit would last only till she could ask for an explanation;
+and she followed Mrs. Somers, as was her usual custom upon such
+occasions, to her room at night, in order to assert her innocence.
+Mrs. Somers walked into her room in a reverie, without perceiving that
+she was followed by Emilie--threw herself into a chair--and gave a
+deep sigh.
+
+"What is the matter, my dear friend?" Emilie began; but, on hearing
+the sound of her voice, Mrs. Somers started up with sudden anger;
+then, constraining herself, she said, "Pardon me, Mlle. de Coulanges,
+if I tell you that I really am tired to-night--body and mind--I wish
+to have rest for both if possible--would you be so very obliging as to
+pull that bell for Masham?--I wish you a very good night.--I hope Mad.
+de Coulanges will have her ass's milk at the proper hour to-morrow--I
+have given particular orders for that purpose."
+
+"Your kindness to mamma, dear Mrs. Somers," said Emilie, "has been
+invariable, and--"
+
+"Spare me, I beseech you, Mlle. de Coulanges, all these _grateful
+speeches_--I really am not prepared to hear them with temper to-night.
+Were you so good as to ring that bell--or will you give me leave to
+ring it myself?"
+
+"If you insist upon it," said Emilie, gently withholding the tassel
+of the bell; "but if you would grant me five minutes--one minute--you
+might perhaps save yourself and me a sleepless night."
+
+Mrs. Somers, incapable of longer commanding her passion, made no
+reply, but snatched the bell-rope, and rang violently--Emilie let go
+the tassel and withdrew. She heard Mrs. Somers say to herself, as
+she left the room--"This is too much--too much--really too
+much!--hypocrisy I cannot endure.--Any thing but hypocrisy!"
+
+These words hurt Emilie more than any thing Mrs. Somers had ever
+said: her own indignation was roused, and she was upon the point
+of returning to vindicate herself; but gratitude, if not prudence,
+conquered her resentment: she recollected her promise to bear with the
+temper of her benefactress; she recollected all Mrs. Somers' kindness
+to her mother; and quietly retired to her room, determining to wait
+till morning for a more favourable opportunity to speak.--After
+passing a restless night, and dreaming the common dream of falling
+down precipices, and the uncommon circumstance of dragging Mrs.
+Somers after her by a bell-rope, she wakened to the confused, painful
+remembrance of all that had passed the preceding evening. She was
+anxious to obtain admittance to Mrs. Somers as soon as she was
+dressed; but Masham informed her that her lady had given particular
+orders that she should "_not be disturbed_." When Mrs. Somers made her
+appearance late at breakfast, there was the same forced good-humour
+in her countenance towards the company in general, and the same
+punctilious politeness towards Emilie, which had before appeared. She
+studiously avoided all opportunity of explaining herself; and every
+attempt of Emilie's towards a reconciliation, either by submissive
+gentleness or friendly familiarity, was disregarded, or noticed with
+cold disdain. Yet all this was visible only to her; for every body
+else observed that Mrs. Somers was in remarkably good spirits, and
+in the most actively obliging humour imaginable. After breakfast she
+proposed and arranged various parties of pleasure: she went with Mad.
+de Coulanges to pay several visits; a large company dined with her;
+and at night she went to a concert. In the midst of these apparent
+amusements, Emilie was made as unhappy as the marked, yet mysterious,
+displeasure of a benefactress could render a person of real
+sensibility. As she did not wish to expose herself to a second
+repulse, she forbore to follow Mrs. Somers to her room at night; but
+she sent her this note by Mrs. Masham.
+
+    "I have done or said something to offend you, dear Mrs. Somers.
+    If you knew how much pain I have felt from your displeasure, I am
+    sure you would explain to me what it can be. Is it possible that
+    my differing in opinion from you about the heroine of the novel
+    can have offended you?--Perhaps the author of the book is a friend
+    of yours, or under your protection. Be assured, that if this be
+    the case, I did not in the least suspect it at the time I made the
+    criticism. Perhaps it was this to which you alluded when you said
+    that the King of Prussia was not the only person who would not
+    hesitate to sacrifice a friend for a bon-mot. What injustice you
+    do me by such an idea! I will not here say one word about my
+    gratitude or my affection, lest you should again reproach me with
+    hypocrisy--any thing else I am able to bear. Pray write, if you
+    will not speak to me.
+
+    "EMILIE."
+
+When Emilie was just falling asleep, Masham came into her room with a
+note in her hand.
+
+"Mademoiselle, I am sorry to waken you; but my mistress thought you
+would not sleep, unless you read this note to-night."
+
+Emilie started up in her bed, and read the following _note_ of four
+pages.
+
+    "Yes I will write, because I am ashamed to speak to you, my dear
+    Emilie. I beg your pardon for pulling the bell-cord so violently
+    from your hand last night--you must have thought me quite
+    ill-bred; and still more, I reproach myself for what I said about
+    _hypocracy_--You have certainly the sweetest and gentlest temper
+    imaginable--would to Heaven I had! But the strength of my feelings
+    absolutely runs away with me. It is the doom of persons of great
+    sensibility to be both unreasonable and unhappy; and often, alas!
+    to involve in their misery those for whom they have the most
+    enthusiastic affection. You see, my dear Emilie, the price you
+    must pay for being my friend; but you have strength of mind
+    joined to a feeling heart, and you will bear with my defects.
+    Dissimulation is not one of them. In spite of all my efforts, I
+    find it is impossible ever to conceal from you any of even my most
+    unreasonable fancies--your note, which is so characteristically
+    frank and artless, has opened my eyes to my own folly. I must show
+    you that, when I am in my senses, I do you justice. You deserve to
+    be treated with perfect openness; therefore, however humiliating
+    the explanation, I will confess to you the real cause of my
+    displeasure. When you spoke of the heroine of this foolish novel,
+    what you said was so applicable to some part of my own history
+    and character, that I could not help suspecting you had heard the
+    facts from a person with whom you spent some hours lately; and I
+    was much hurt by your alluding to them in such a severe and public
+    manner. You will ask me, how I could conceive you to be capable of
+    such unprovoked malevolence: and my answer is, 'I cannot tell;' I
+    can only say, such is the effect of the unfortunate susceptibility
+    of my heart, or, to speak more candidly, of my temper. I confess
+    I cannot, in these particulars, alter my nature. Blame me as much
+    as I blame myself; be as angry as you please, or as you can, my
+    gentle friend: but at last you must pity and forgive me.
+
+    "Now that all this affair is off my mind, I can sleep in peace:
+    and so, I hope, will you, my dear Emilie--Good night! If
+    friends never quarrelled, they would never taste the joys of
+    reconciliation. Believe me,
+
+    "Your ever sincere and affectionate
+
+    "A. SOMERS."
+
+No one tasted the joys of reconciliation more than Emilie; but, after
+reiterated experience, she was inclined to believe that they cannot
+balance the evils of quarrelling. Mrs. Somers was one of those, who
+"confess their faults, but never mend;" and who expect, for this
+gratuitous candour, more applause than others would claim for the real
+merit of reformation. So far did this lady carry her admiration of her
+own candour, that she was actually upon the point of quarrelling with
+Emilie again, the next morning, because she did not seem sufficiently
+sensible of the magnanimity with which she had confessed herself to be
+ill-tempered. These few specimens are sufficient to give an idea of
+this lady's powers of tormenting; but, to form an adequate notion of
+their effect upon Emilie's spirits, we must conceive the same sort
+of provocations to be repeated every day, for several months. Petty
+torments, incessantly repeated, exhaust the most determined patience.
+
+All this time, Mad. de Coulanges went on very smoothly with Mrs.
+Somers; for she had not Emilie's sensibility; and, notwithstanding her
+great quickness, a hundred things might pass, and did pass, before
+her eyes, without her seeing them. She examined no farther than the
+surface; and, provided that there was not any deficiency of those
+_little attentions_ to which she had been accustomed, it never
+occurred to her that a friend could be more or less pleased: she did
+not understand or study physiognomy; a smile of the lips was, to her,
+always a sufficient token of approbation; and, whether it were merely
+conventional, or whether it came from the heart, she never troubled
+herself to inquire. Provided that she saw at dinner the usual
+_couverts_, and that she had a sufficient number of people to converse
+with, or rather to talk to, she was satisfied that every thing was
+right. All the variations in Mrs. Somers' temper were unmarked by
+her, or went under the general head, _vapeurs noirs_. This species
+of ignorance, or confidence, produced the best effects; for as Mrs.
+Somers could not, without passing the obvious bounds of politeness,
+make Mad. de Coulanges sensible of her displeasure, and as she had the
+utmost respect for the countess's opinion of her good breeding, she
+was, to a certain degree, compelled to command her temper. Mad. de
+Coulanges often, without knowing it, tried it terribly, by differing
+from her in taste and judgment, and by supporting her own side of the
+question with all the enthusiastic volubility of the French language.
+Sometimes the English and French music were compared--sometimes the
+English and French painters; and every time the theatre was mentioned,
+Mad. de Coulanges pronounced an eulogium on her favourite French
+actors, and triumphed over the comparison between the elegance of the
+French, and the _grossierete_ of the English taste for comedy.
+
+"Good Heaven!" said she, "your fashionable comedies would be too
+absurd to make the lowest of our audiences at the Boulevards laugh;
+you have excluded sentiment and wit, and what have you in their place?
+Characters out of drawing and out of nature; grotesque figures, such
+as you see in a child's magic lantern. Then you talk of English
+humour--I wish I could understand it; but I cannot be diverted with
+seeing a tailor turned gentleman pricking his father with a needle, or
+a man making grimaces over a jug of sour beer."
+
+Mrs. Somers, piqued perhaps by the justice of some of these
+observations, would dryly answer, that it was impossible for a
+foreigner to comprehend English humour--that she believed the French,
+in particular, were destitute of taste for humour.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges insisted upon it, that the French have humour; and
+Moliere furnished her with many admirable illustrations.
+
+Emilie, in support of her mother, read a passage from that elegant
+writer, M. Suard[1], who has lately attacked, with much ability, the
+pretensions of the English to the exclusive possession of humour.
+
+[Footnote 1: "Il est tres-difficile de se faire une idee nette de ce
+que les Anglais entendent par ce mot; on a tente plusieurs fois sans
+succes d'en donner une definition precise. Congreve, qui assurement a
+mis beaucoup d'_humour_ dans ses comedies, dit, que c'est _une maniere
+singuliere et inevitable de faire ou de dire quelque chose, qui est
+naturelle et propre a un homme seul, et qui distingue ses discours et
+ses actions des discours et des actions de tout autre._
+
+"Cette definition, que nous traduisons litteralement, n'est pas
+lumineuse; elle conviendrait egalement a la maniere dont Alexandre
+parle et agit dans Plutarque, et a celle dont Sancho parle et agit
+dans Cervantes. II y a apparence que l'_humour_ est comme l'esprit, et
+que ceux qui en ont le plus ne savent pas trop bien ce que c'est.
+
+"Nous croyons que ce genre de plaisanterie consiste surtout dans des
+idees ou des tournures originales, qui tiennent plus au caractere qu'a
+l'esprit, et qui semblent echapper a celui qui les produit.
+
+"L'homme d'_humour_ est un plaisant serieux, qui dit des choses
+plaisantes sans avoir l'air de vouloir etre plaisant. Au reste, une
+scene de Vanbrugh ou une satire de Swift, feront mieux sentir ce que
+c'est, que toutes les definitions du monde. Quant a la pretention
+de quelques Anglais sur la possession exclusive de l'_humour_,
+nous pensons que si ce qu'ils entendent par ce mot est un genre de
+plaisanterie qu'on ne trouve ni dans Aristophane, dans Plaute, et
+dans Lucien, chez lea anciens; ni dans l'Arioste, le Berni, le Pulci,
+et tant d'autres, chez les Italiens; ni dans Cervantes, chez les
+Espagnols; ni dans Rabener, chez les Allemands; ni dans le Pantagruel,
+la satire Menippee, le Roman comique, les comedies de Moliere, de
+Dufreny, de Regnard etc., nous ne savons pas ce que c'est, et nous
+ne prendrons pas la peine de la chercher."--_Suard, Melanges de
+Litterature_, vol. iv. p. 366.]
+
+Mrs. Somers then changed her ground, and inveighed against French
+tragedy, and the unnatural tones and attitudes of the French tragic
+actors.
+
+"Your heroes on the French stage," said she, "always look over their
+right shoulders, to express magnanimous disdain; and a lover, whether
+he be Grecian or Roman, Turk, Israelite, or American, must regularly
+show his passion by the pompous emphasis with which he pronounces the
+word MADAME!--a word which must certainly have, for a French audience,
+some magical charm, incomprehensible to other nations."
+
+What was yet more incomprehensible to Mad. de Coulanges, was the
+enthusiasm of the English for that bloody-minded barbarian Shakspeare,
+who is never satisfied till he has strewn the stage with dead bodies;
+who treats his audience like children, that are to be frightened
+out of their wits by ghosts of all sorts and sizes in their winding
+sheets; or by a set of old beggarmen, dressed in women's clothes,
+armed with broomsticks, and dancing and howling out their nonsensical
+song round a black kettle.
+
+Mrs. Somers, smiling as in scorn, would only reply, "Madame la
+comtesse, yours is Voltaire's Shakspeare, not ours.--Have you read
+Mrs. Montagu's essay upon Shakspeare?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then positively you must read it before we say one word more upon the
+subject."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges, though unwilling to give up the pleasure of
+talking, took the book, which Mrs. Somers pressed upon her, with a
+promise to read it through some morning; but, unluckily, she chanced
+to open it towards the end, and happened to see some animadversions
+upon Racine, by which she was so astonished and disgusted that she
+could read no more. She threw down the book, defying _any good critic
+to point out a single bad line in Racine_. "This is a defiance I have
+heard made by men of letters of the highest reputation in Paris,"
+added la comtesse: "have not you, Mons. l'Abbe?"
+
+The abbe, who was madame's common voucher, acceded, with this slight
+emendation--that he had heard numbers defy any critic of good taste to
+point out a flat line in _Phaedre_.
+
+Mrs. Somers would, perhaps, have acknowledged the beauties of Phaedre,
+if she had not been piqued by this defiance; but exaggeration on one
+side produced injustice on the other: and these disputes about Racine
+and Shakspeare were continually renewed, and never ended to the
+satisfaction of either party. Those who will not make allowances for
+national prejudice, and who do not consider how much all our tastes
+are influenced by early education, example, and the accidental
+association of ideas, may dispute for ever without coming to
+any conclusion; especially, if they avoid stating any distinct
+proposition; if each of the combatants sets up a standard of his own,
+as the universal standard of taste; and if, instead of arguments,
+both parties have recourse to wit and ridicule. In these skirmishes,
+however, Mad. de Coulanges, though apparently the most eager for
+victory, never seriously lost her temper--her eagerness was more of
+manner than of mind; after pleading the cause of Racine, as if it were
+a matter of life and death, as if the fate of Europe or the universe
+depended upon it, she would turn to discuss the merits of a riband
+with equal vehemence, or coolly observe that she was hoarse, and that
+she would quit Racine for a better thing--_de l'eau sucre_. Mrs.
+Somers, on the contrary, took the cause of Shakspeare, or any other
+cause that she defended, seriously to heart. The wit or raillery of
+her adversary, if she affected not to be hurt by it at the moment,
+left a sting in her mind which rankled long and sorely. Though she
+often failed to refute the arguments brought against her, yet she
+always rose from the debate precisely of her first opinion; and even
+her silence, which Mad. de Coulanges sometimes mistook for assent or
+conviction, was only the symptom of contemptuous pity--the proof
+that she deemed the understanding of her opponent beneath all fair
+competition with her own. The understanding of Mad. de Coulanges had,
+indeed, in the space of a few months, sunk far below the point of
+mediocrity, in Mrs. Somers' estimation--she had begun by overvaluing,
+and she ended by underrating it. She at first had taken it for granted
+that Mad. de Coulanges possessed a "very superior understanding and
+great strength of mind;" then she discovered that la comtesse was
+"uncommonly superficial, even for a Frenchwoman;" and at last she
+decided, that "really Mad. de Coulanges was a very silly woman."
+
+Mrs. Somers now began to be seriously angry with Emilie for always
+being of her mother's opinion: "It is really, Mlle. de Coulanges,
+carrying your filial affection too far. We cold-hearted English can
+scarcely conceive this sort of fervid passion, which French children
+express about every thing, the merest trifle, that relates to
+_mamma!_--Well! it is an amiable national prejudice; and one cannot
+help wishing that it may never, like other amiable enthusiasms, fail
+in the moment of serious trial."
+
+Emilie, touched to the quick upon a subject nearest her heart, replied
+with a degree of dignity and spirit which surprised Mrs. Somers, who
+had never seen in her any thing but the most submissive gentleness.
+"The affection, whether enthusiastic or not, which we French children
+profess for our parents, has been of late years put to some strong
+trials, and has not been found to fail. In many instances it
+has proved superior to all earthly terrors--to imprisonment--to
+torture--to death--to Robespierre. Daughters have sacrificed
+themselves for their parents.--Oh! if _my_ life could have saved my
+father's!"
+
+Emilie clasped her hands, and looked up to heaven with the unaffected
+expression of filial piety in her countenance. Every body was silent.
+Mrs. Somers was struck with regret--with remorse--for the taunting
+manner in which she had spoken.
+
+"My dearest Emilie, forgive me!" cried she; "I am shocked at what I
+said."
+
+Emilie took Mrs. Somers' hand between hers, and endeavoured to smile.
+Mrs. Somers resolved that she would keep, henceforward, the strictest
+guard upon her own temper; and that she would never more be so
+ungenerous, so barbarous, as to insult one who was so gentle, so
+grateful, so much in her power, and so deserving of her affection.
+These good resolutions, formed in the moment of contrition, were,
+however, soon forgotten: strong emotions of the heart are transient in
+their power; habits of the temper permanent in their influence.--Like
+a child who promises to be always _good_, and forgets its promise
+in an hour, Mrs. Somers soon grew tired of keeping her temper in
+subjection. It did not, indeed, break out immediately towards
+Emilie; but, in her conversations with Mad. de Coulanges, the same
+feelings of irritation and contempt recurred; and Emilie, who was a
+clear-sighted bystander, suffered continual uneasiness upon these
+occasions--uneasiness, which appeared to Mad. de Coulanges perfectly
+causeless, and at which she frequently expressed her astonishment.
+Emilie's prescient kindness often, indeed, "felt the coming storm;"
+while her mother's careless eye saw not, even when the dark cloud
+was just ready to burst over her head. With all the innocent address
+of which she was mistress, Emilie tried to turn the course of the
+conversation whenever it tended towards _dangerous_ subjects of
+discussion; but her mother, far from shunning, would often dare and
+provoke the war; and she would combat long after both parties were
+in the dark, even till her adversary quitted the field of battle,
+exclaiming, "_Let us have peace on any terms, my dear countess!--I
+give up the point to you, Mad. de Coulanges._"
+
+This last phrase Emilie particularly dreaded, as the precursor of
+ill-humour for some succeeding hours. Mrs. Somers at length became so
+conscious of her own inability to conceal her contempt or to command
+her temper, that she was almost as desirous as Emilie could be to
+avoid these arguments; and, the moment the countess prepared for the
+attack, she would recede, with, "Excuse me, Mad. de Coulanges: we had
+better not talk upon these subjects--it is of no use--really of no
+manner of use: let us converse upon other topics--there are subjects
+enough, I hope, upon which we shall always agree."
+
+Emilie was at first rejoiced at this arrangement, but the constraint
+was insupportable to her mother: indeed, the circle of proper subjects
+for conversation contracted daily; for not only the declared offensive
+topics were to be avoided, but innumerable others, bordering on or
+allied to them, were to be shunned with equal care--a degree of
+caution of which the volatile countess was utterly incapable. One
+day, at dinner, she asked the gentleman opposite to her, "How long
+this intolerable rule--of talking only upon subjects where people are
+of the same opinion--had been the fashion, and what time it would
+probably last in England?--If it continue much longer, I must fly
+the country," said she. "I would almost as soon, at this rate, be a
+prisoner in Paris, as in your land of freedom. You value, above all
+things, your liberty of the press--now, to me, liberty of the tongue,
+which is evidently a part, if not the best part, of personal liberty,
+is infinitely more dear. Bon Dieu!--even in l'Abbaye one might talk of
+Racine!"
+
+Mad. de Coulanges spoke this half in jest, half in earnest; but Mrs.
+Somers took it wholly in earnest, and was most seriously offended.
+Her feelings upon the occasion were strongly expressed in a letter
+to a friend, to whom she had, from her infancy, been in the habit of
+confiding all her joys and sorrows--all the histories of her loves
+and hates--of her quarrels and reconciliations. This friend was an
+elderly lady, who, besides possessing superior mental endowments which
+inspired admiration, and a character which commanded high respect, was
+blessed with an uncommonly placid, benevolent temper. This enabled her
+to do what no other human being had ever accomplished--to continue
+in peace and amity, for upwards of thirty years, with Mrs. Somers.
+The following is one of many hundreds of epistolary complaints or
+invectives, which, during the course of that time, this "much enduring
+lady" was doomed to read and answer.
+
+    "TO LADY LITTLETON.
+
+    "For once, my dear friend, I am secure of your sympathizing in my
+    indignation--my long suppressed, just, virtuous indignation--yes,
+    virtuous; for I do hold indignation to be a part of virtue: it
+    is the natural, proper expression of a warm heart and a strong
+    character against the cold-blooded vices of meanness and
+    ingratitude. Would that those to whom I allude could feel it
+    as a punishment!--but no, this is not the sort of punishment
+    they are formed to feel. Nothing but what comes home to their
+    interests--their paltry interests!--their pleasures--their
+    selfish pleasures!--their amusements--their frivolous amusements!
+    can touch souls of such a sort. To this half-formed race of
+    _worldlings_, who are scarce endued with a moral sense, the
+    generous expression of indignation always appears something
+    incomprehensible--ridiculous; or, in their language, _outre!
+    inoui_! With such beings, therefore, I always am--as much as my
+    nature will allow me to be--upon my guard; I keep within what
+    they call the bounds of politeness--their dear politeness! What a
+    system of _simagree_ it is, after all! and how can honest human
+    nature bear to be penned up all its days by the Chinese paling of
+    ceremony, or that French filigree work, _politesse_? English human
+    nature cannot endure this, as _yet_; and I am glad of it--heartily
+    glad of it--Now to the point.
+
+    "You guess that I am going to speak of the Coulanges. Yes, my
+    dear friend, you were quite right in advising me, when I first
+    became acquainted with them, not to give way blindly to my
+    enthusiasm--not to be too generous, or to expect too much
+    gratitude. Gratitude! why should I ever expect to meet with
+    any?--Where I have most deserved, most hoped for it, I have
+    been always most disappointed. My life has been a life of
+    sacrifices!--thankless and fruitless sacrifices! There is not any
+    possible species of sacrifice of interest, pleasure, happiness,
+    which I have not been willing to make--which I have not made--for
+    my friends--for my enemies. Early in life, I gave up a lover I
+    adored to a friend, who afterwards deserted me. I married a man I
+    detested to oblige a mother, who at last refused to see me on her
+    death-bed. What exertions I made for years to win the affection of
+    the husband to whom I was only bound in duty! My generosity was
+    thrown away upon him--he died--I became ambitious--I had means
+    of gratifying my ambition--a splendid alliance was in my power.
+    Ambition is a strong passion as well as love--but I sacrificed
+    it without hesitation to my children--I devoted myself to the
+    education of my two sons, one of whom has never, in any instance,
+    since he became his own master, shown his mother tenderness or
+    affection; and who, on some occasions, has scarcely behaved
+    towards her with the common forms of respect and duty. Despairing,
+    utterly despairing of gratitude from my own family and natural
+    friends, I looked abroad, and endeavoured to form friendships with
+    strangers, in hopes of finding more congenial tempers. I spared
+    nothing to earn attachment--my time, my health, my money. I
+    lavished money so, as even, notwithstanding my large income, to
+    reduce myself frequently to the most straitened and embarrassing
+    circumstances. And by all I have done, by all I have suffered,
+    what have I gained?--not a single friend--except yourself. You, on
+    whom I have never conferred the slightest favour, you are at this
+    instant the only friend upon earth by whom I am really beloved. To
+    you, who know my whole history, I may speak of myself as I have
+    done, Heaven knows! not with vanity, but with deep humiliation and
+    bitterness of heart. The experience of my whole life leaves me
+    only the deplorable conviction that it is impossible to do good,
+    that it is vain to hope even for friendship from those whom we
+    oblige.
+
+    "My last disappointment has been cruel, in proportion to the fond
+    hopes I had formed. I cannot cure myself of this credulous folly.
+    I did form high expectations of happiness from the society and
+    gratitude of this Mad. and Mlle. de Coulanges; but the mother
+    turns out to be a mere frivolous French comtesse, ignorant,
+    vain, and positive--as all ignorant people are; full of national
+    prejudices, which she supports in the most absurd and petulant
+    manner. Possessed with the insanity, common to all Parisians, of
+    thinking that Paris is the whole world, and that nothing can be
+    good taste, or good sense, or good manners, but what is _a-la-mode
+    de Paris_; through all her boasted politeness, you see, even by
+    her mode of praising, that she has a most illiberal contempt for
+    all who are not Parisians--she considers the rest of the world
+    as barbarians. I could give you a thousand instances; but her
+    conversation is really so frivolous, that it is not worth
+    reciting. I bore with it day after day for several months with a
+    patience for which, I am sure, you would have given me credit;
+    and I let her go on eternally with absurd observations upon
+    Shakspeare, and extravagant nonsense about Racine. To avoid
+    disputing with her, I gave up every point--I acquiesced in all she
+    said--and only begged to have peace. Still she was not satisfied.
+    You know there are tempers which never can be contented, do what
+    you will to please them. Mad. de Coulanges actually quarrelled
+    with me for begging that we might have peace; and that we might
+    talk upon subjects where we should not be likely to disagree.
+    This will seem to you incredible; but it is the nature of French
+    caprice: and for this I ought to have been prepared. But, indeed,
+    I never could have prepared myself for the strange manner in which
+    this lady thought proper to manifest her anger this day at dinner,
+    before a large company. She spoke absolutely, notwithstanding all
+    her good-breeding, in the most brutally ungrateful manner; and,
+    after all I have done for her, she represented me as being as
+    great a tyrant as Robespierre, and spoke of my house as a more
+    intolerable prison than any in Paris!!! I only state the fact to
+    you, without making any comments--I never yet saw so thoroughly
+    selfish and unfeeling a human being.
+
+    "The daughter has as far too much as the mother has too little
+    sensibility. Emilie plagues me to death with her fine feelings
+    and her sentimentality, and all her French parade of affection,
+    and superfluity of endearing expressions, which mean nothing,
+    and disgust English ears. She is always fancying that I am angry
+    or displeased with her or with her mother; and then I am to have
+    tears, and explanations, and apologies: she has not a mind large
+    enough to understand my character: and if I were to explain to
+    eternity, she would be as much in the dark as ever. Yet, after
+    all, there is something so ingenuous and affectionate about this
+    girl that I cannot help loving her, and that is what provokes me;
+    for she does not, and never can, feel for me the affection that I
+    have for her. My little hastiness of temper she has not strength
+    of mind sufficient to bear--I see she is dreadfully afraid of
+    me, and more constrained in my company than in that of any other
+    person. Not a visitor comes, however insignificant, but Mlle. de
+    Coulanges seems more at her ease, and converses more with them
+    than with me--she talks to me only of gratitude, and such stuff.
+    She is one of those feeble persons who, wanting confidence in
+    themselves, are continually afraid that they shall not be grateful
+    enough; and so they reproach and torment themselves, and refine
+    and _sentimentalize_, till gratitude becomes burdensome (as it
+    always does to weak minds), and the very idea of a benefactor
+    odious. Mlle. de Coulanges was originally unwilling to accept of
+    any obligation from me: she knew her own character better than I
+    did. I do not deny that she has a heart; but she has no soul: I
+    hope you understand and feel the difference. I rejoice, my dear
+    Lady Littleton, that you are coming to town immediately. I am
+    harassed almost to death between want of feeling and fine feeling.
+    I really long to see you and to talk over all these things. Nobody
+    but you, my dear friend, ever understood me.--Farewell!
+
+    "Yours affectionately,
+
+    "A. SOMERS."
+
+To this long letter, Lady Littleton replied by the following short
+note.
+
+    "I hope to see you the day after to-morrow, my dear friend; in the
+    mean time, do not decide, irrevocably, that Mlle. de Coulanges has
+    no soul.
+
+    "Yours affectionately,
+
+    "L. LITTLETON."
+
+Mrs. Somers was rather disappointed by the calmness of this note; and
+she was most impatient to see Lady Littleton, that she might work up
+her mind to the proper pitch of indignation. She stationed a servant
+at her ladyship's house to give her notice the moment of her arrival
+in town. The instant that she was informed of it she ordered her
+carriage; and the whole of her conversation during this visit was an
+invective against Emilie and Mad. de Coulanges. The next day, Emilie,
+who had heard the most enthusiastic eulogiums upon Lady Littleton,
+expressed much satisfaction on finding that she was come to town; and
+requested Mrs. Somers' permission to accompany her on her next visit.
+The request was rather embarrassing; but Mrs. Somers granted it with
+a sort of constrained civility. It was fortunate for Emilie that she
+was so unsuspicious; for her manner was consequently frank, natural,
+and affectionate; and she appeared to the greatest advantage to Lady
+Littleton. Mrs. Somers threw herself back in the chair and sat silent,
+whilst Emilie, in hopes of pleasing her, conversed with the utmost
+freedom with her friend. The conversation, at last, was interrupted
+by an exclamation from Mrs. Somers, "Good Heavens! my dear Lady
+Littleton, how can you endure this smell of paint? It has made my head
+ache terribly--where does it come from?"
+
+"From my bedchamber," said Lady Littleton. "They have, unluckily,
+misunderstood my orders; and they have freshly painted every one in my
+house."
+
+"Then it is impossible that you should sleep here--I will not allow
+you--it will poison you--it will give you the palsy immediately--it
+is destruction--it is death. You must come home with me directly--I
+insist upon it--But, no," said she, checking herself, with a look of
+sudden disappointment, "no, my dearest friend! I cannot invite you;
+for I have not a bed to offer you."
+
+"Yes, mine--you forget mine--dear Mrs. Somers," cried Emilie; "you
+know I can sleep with mamma."
+
+"By no means, Mlle. de Coulanges; you cannot possibly imagine--"
+
+"I only imagine the truth," said Emilie, "that this arrangement would
+be infinitely more convenient to mamma; I know she likes to have me in
+the room with her. Pray, dear Mrs. Somers, let it be so."
+
+Mrs. Somers made many ceremonious speeches: but Lady Littleton seemed
+so well inclined to accept Emilie's offered room, that she was obliged
+to yield. She was vexed to perceive that Emilie's manners pleased
+Lady Littleton; and, after they returned home, the activity with
+which Emilie moved her books, her drawing-box, work, &c., furnished
+Mrs. Somers with fresh matter for displeasure. At night, when Lady
+Littleton went to take possession of her apartment, and when she
+observed how active and obliging Mlle. de Coulanges had been, Mrs.
+Somers shook her head, and replied, "All this is just a proof to
+me of what I asserted, Lady Littleton--and what I must irrevocably
+assert--that Mlle. de Coulanges has no soul. You are a new
+acquaintance, and I am an old friend. She exerts herself to please
+you; she does not care what I think or what I feel about the matter.
+Now this is just what I call having no soul."
+
+"My dear Mrs. Somers," said Lady Littleton, "be reasonable; and you
+must perceive that Emilie's eagerness to please me arises from her
+regard and gratitude to you: she has, I make no doubt, heard that I
+am your intimate friend, and your praises have disposed her to like
+me.--Is this a proof that she has no soul?"
+
+"My dear Lady Littleton, we will not dispute about it--I see you are
+fascinated, as I was at first. Manner is a prodigious advantage--but I
+own I prefer solid English sincerity. Stay a little: as soon as Mlle.
+de Coulanges thinks herself secure of you, she will completely abandon
+me. I make no doubt that she will complain to you of my bad temper and
+ill usage; and I dare say that she will succeed in prejudicing you
+against me."
+
+"She will succeed only in prejudicing me against herself, if she
+attempt to injure you," said Lady Littleton; "but, till I have some
+plain proof of it, I cannot believe that any person has such a base
+and ungrateful disposition."
+
+Mrs. Somers spent an hour and a quarter in explaining her causes of
+complaint against both mother and daughter; and she at last retired
+much dissatisfied, because her friend was not as angry as she was,
+but persisted in the resolution to see more before she decided.
+After passing a few days in the house with Mlle. de Coulanges, Lady
+Littleton frankly declared to Mrs. Somers that she thought her
+complaints of Emilie's temper quite unreasonable, and that she was
+a most amiable and affectionate girl. Respect for Lady Littleton
+restrained Mrs. Somers from showing the full extent of her vexation;
+she contented herself with repeating, "Mlle. de Coulanges is certainly
+a very amiable young woman--I would by no means prejudice you against
+her--but when you know her as well as I do, you will find that she has
+no soul."
+
+Mrs. Somers, in the course of four-and-twenty hours, found a multitude
+of proofs in support of her opinion; but they were none of them
+absolutely satisfactory to Lady Littleton's judgment. Whilst they were
+debating about her character, Emilie came into the room to show Mrs.
+Somers a _French_ translation, which she had been making, of a pretty
+little English poem, called "The Emigrant's Grave." It was impossible
+to be displeased with the translation, or with the motive from which
+it was attempted; for it was done at the particular request of Mrs.
+Somers. This lady's ingenuity, however, did not fail to discover some
+cause for dissatisfaction. Mlle. de Coulanges had adapted the words to
+a French, and not to an English air.
+
+"This is a favourite air of mamma's," said Emilie, "and I thought that
+she would be pleased by my choosing it."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Somers, in her constrained voice, "I remember
+that the Countess de Coulanges and her friend--or your friend--M. de
+Brisac, were charmed with this air, when you sang it the other night.
+I found fault with it, I believe--but then you had a majority against
+me; and with some people that is sufficient. Few ask themselves _what
+constitutes a majority_--numbers or sense. Judgments and tastes may
+differ in value; but one vote is always as good as another, in the
+opinion of those who are decided merely by numbers."
+
+"I hope that I shall never be one of those," said Emilie. "Upon
+the present occasion I assure you, my dear Mrs. Somers, that I was
+influenced by--"
+
+"Oh! my dear Mlle. de Coulanges," interrupted Mrs. Somers, "you need
+not give yourself the trouble to explain about such a trifle--the
+thing is perfectly clear. And nothing is more natural than that you
+should despise the taste of a friend when put in competition with that
+of a lover."
+
+"Of a lover!"
+
+"Yes, of a lover. Why should Mlle. de Coulanges think it necessary to
+look astonished? But young ladies imagine this sort of dissimulation
+is becoming; and can I hope to meet with an exception, or to find one
+superior to the _finesse_ of her sex?--I beg your pardon, Mlle. de
+Coulanges, I really forgot that Lady Littleton was present when this
+terrible word lover escaped--but I can assure you that frankness is
+not incompatible with _her_ ideas of delicacy."
+
+"You are mistaken, dear Mrs. Somers; indeed you are mistaken," said
+Emilie; "but you are displeased with me now, and I will take a more
+favourable moment to set you right. In the mean time, I will go and
+water the hydrangia, which I forgot, and which I reproached myself for
+forgetting yesterday."
+
+Emilie left the room.
+
+"Are you convinced now, my dear Lady Littleton," cried Mrs. Somers,
+"that this girl has no soul--and very little heart?"
+
+"I am convinced only that she has an excellent temper," said Lady
+Littleton. "I hope you do not think a good temper is incompatible with
+a heart or a soul."
+
+"I will tell you what I think, and what I am sure of," cried Mrs.
+Somers, raising her voice; "that Mlle. de Coulanges will be a constant
+cause of dispute and uneasiness between you and me, Lady Littleton--I
+foresee the end of this. As a return for all I have done for her and
+her mother, she will rob me of the affections of one whom I love and
+esteem, respect and admire--as she well knows--above all other human
+beings. She will rob me of the affections of one who has been my
+friend, my best, my only constant friend, for twenty years!--Oh! why
+am I doomed eternally to be the victim of ingratitude?"
+
+In spite of Lady Littleton's efforts to stop and calm her, Mrs. Somers
+burst out of the room in an agony of passion. She ran up a back
+staircase which led to her dressing-room, but suddenly stopped when
+she came to the landing-place, for she found Emilie watering her
+plants.
+
+"Look, dear Mrs. Somers, this hydrangia is just going to blow; though
+I was so careless as to forget to water it yesterday."
+
+"I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges, that you will not trouble yourself," said
+Mrs. Somers, haughtily. "Surely there are servants enough in this
+house whose business it is to remember these things."
+
+"Yes," said Emilie, "it is their business, but it is my pleasure. You
+must not, indeed you must not, take my watering-pot from me!"
+
+"Pardon me, I must, mademoiselle--you are very condescending and
+polite, and I am very blunt and rude, or whatever you please to think
+me. But the fact is, that I am not to be flattered by what the French
+call _des petites attentions_: they are suited to little minds, but
+not to me. You will never know my character, Mlle. de Coulanges--I am
+not to be pleased by such means."
+
+"Teach me then better means, my dear friend, and do not bid me despair
+of ever pleasing you," said Emilie, throwing her arms round Mrs.
+Somers to detain her.
+
+"Excuse me--I am an Englishwoman, and do not love _embrassades_, which
+mean nothing," said Mrs. Somers, struggling to disengage herself; and
+she rushed suddenly forward, without perceiving that Emilie's foot was
+entangled in her train. Emilie was thrown from the top of the stairs
+to the bottom. Mrs. Somers screamed--Lady Littleton came out of her
+room.
+
+"She is dead!--I have killed her!"--cried Mrs. Somers. Lady Littleton
+raised Emilie from the ground--she was quite stunned by the violence
+of the fall.
+
+"Oh! speak to me! dearest Emilie, speak once more!" said Mrs. Somers.
+
+As soon as Emilie could speak, she assured Mrs. Somers that she should
+be quite well in a few minutes. When she attempted, however, to
+walk, she found she was unable to move, for her ankle was violently
+sprained: she was carried into Lady Littleton's room, and placed upon
+a sofa. She exerted herself to bear the pain she felt, that she might
+not alarm or seem to reproach Mrs. Somers; and she repeatedly blamed
+herself for the awkwardness with which she had occasioned her own
+fall. Mrs. Somers, in the greatest bustle and confusion, called every
+servant in the house about her, sent them different ways for all the
+remedies she had ever heard of for a sprain; then was sure Emilie's
+skull was fractured--asked fifty times in five minutes whether she did
+not feel a certain sickness in her stomach, which was the infallible
+sign of "_something wrong_"--insisted upon her smelling at salts,
+vinegar, and various essences; and made her swallow, or at least
+taste, every variety of drops and cordials. By this time Mad. de
+Coulanges, who was at her toilet, had heard of the accident, and came
+running in half dressed; the hurry of Mrs. Somers' manner, the crowd
+of assistants, the quantity of remedies, the sight of Emilie stretched
+upon a sofa, and the sound of the word _fracture_, which caught her
+ear, had such an effect upon the countess, that she was instantly
+seized with one of her nervous attacks; and Mrs. Somers was astonished
+to see Emilie spring from the sofa to assist her mother. When Mad. de
+Coulanges recovered, Emilie used all her powers of persuasion to calm
+her spirits, laughed at the idea of her skull being fractured, and
+said, that she had only twisted her ankle, which would merely prevent
+her from dancing for a few days. The countess pitied herself for
+having such terribly weak nerves--congratulated herself upon her
+daughter's safety--declared that it was a miracle how she could
+have escaped, in falling down such a narrow staircase--observed,
+that, though the stairs in London were cleaner and better carpeted,
+the staircases of Paris were at least four times as broad, and,
+consequently, a hundred times as safe. She then reminded Emilie of an
+anecdote mentioned by Mad. de Genlis about a princess of France, who,
+when she retired to a convent, complained bitterly of the narrowness
+of the staircase, which, she said, she found a real misfortune to
+be obliged to descend. "Tell me, Emilie, what was the name of the
+princess?"
+
+"The Princess Louisa of France, I believe, mamma," replied Emilie.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges repeated, "Ay, the Princess Louisa of France;" and
+then, well satisfied, returned to finish her toilette.
+
+"You have an excellent memory, Mlle. de Coulanges," said Mrs. Somers,
+looking with an air of pique at Emilie. "I really am rejoiced to see
+you so much yourself again--I thought you were seriously hurt."
+
+"I told you that I was not," said Emilie, forcing a smile.
+
+"Yes, but I was such a fool as to be terrified out of my senses by
+seeing you lie down on the sofa. I might have saved myself and you a
+great deal of trouble. I must have appeared ridiculously officious. I
+saw indeed that I was troublesome; and I seem to be too much for you
+now. I will leave you with Lady Littleton, to explain to her how the
+accident happened. Pray tell the thing just as it was--do not spare
+me, I beg. I do not desire that Lady Littleton, or any friend I have
+upon earth, should think better of me than I deserve. Remember,
+you have my free leave, Mlle. de Coulanges, to speak of me as you
+think--so don't spare me!" cried Mrs. Somers, shutting the door with
+violence as she left the room.
+
+"Lean upon me, my dear," said Lady Littleton, who saw that Emilie
+turned exceedingly pale, and looked towards a chair, as if she wished
+to reach it, but could not.
+
+"I thought," said she, in a faint voice, "that this pain would go
+off, but it is grown more violent." Emilie could say no more; she had
+borne intense pain as long as she was able: and now, quite overcome,
+she leaned back, and fainted. Lady Littleton threw open the window,
+sprinkled water upon Emilie's face, and gave her assistance in the
+kindest manner, without calling any of the servants; she knew that
+the return of Mrs. Somers would do more harm than good. Emilie soon
+recovered her recollection; and, whilst Lady Littleton was rubbing the
+sprained ankle with ether, in hopes of lessening the pain, she asked
+how the accident had happened.--Emilie replied simply, that she had
+entangled her foot in Mrs. Somers' gown. "I understand, from what Mrs.
+Somers hinted when she left the room," said Lady Littleton, "that she
+was somehow in fault in this affair, and that you could blame her if
+you would; but I see that you will not; and I love you the better for
+justifying the good opinion that I had formed of you, Emilie.--But I
+will not talk sentiment to you now--you are in too much pain to relish
+it."
+
+"Not at all," said Emilie: "I feel more pleasure than pain at
+this moment; indeed my ankle does not hurt me now that I am quite
+still--the pleasant cold of the ether has relieved the pain. How kind
+you are to me, Lady Littleton, and how much I am obliged to you for
+judging so favourably of my character!"
+
+"You are not obliged to me, my dear, for I do you only justice."
+
+"Justice is sometimes felt as the greatest possible obligation,
+especially by those who have experienced the reverse.--But," said
+Emilie, checking herself, "let me not blame Mrs. Somers, or incline
+you to blame her. I should do very wrong, indeed, if I were, in return
+for all she has done for us, to cause any jealousies or quarrels
+between her and her best friend. Oh! that is what I most dread! To
+prevent it, I would--it is not polite to say so--but I would, my dear
+Lady Littleton, even withdraw myself from your society. This very day
+you return to your own house. You were so good as to ask me to go
+often to see you: forgive me if I do not avail myself of this kind
+permission. You will know my reasons; and I hope they are such as you
+will approve of."
+
+A servant came in, to say that her ladyship's carriage was at the
+door.
+
+"One word more before you go, my dear Lady Littleton," said Emilie,
+with a supplicating voice and countenance. "Tell me, I beseech
+you--for you have been her friend from her childhood, and must know
+better than any one living--tell me how I can please Mrs. Somers.
+I begin to be afraid that I shall at last be weary of my fruitless
+efforts, and I dread--above all things I dread--that my affection
+for her should be worn out. How painful it would be to sustain the
+continual weight of obligation without being able to feel the pleasure
+of gratitude!"
+
+Lady Littleton was going to reply, but she was prevented by the sudden
+entrance of Mrs. Somers with her face of wrath.
+
+"So, Lady Littleton, you are actually going, I find!--And I have not
+had one moment of your conversation. May I be allowed--if Mlle. de
+Coulanges has finished her mysteries--to say a few words to you?"
+
+"You will give me leave, I am sure, Emilie," said Lady Littleton, "to
+repeat to Mrs. Somers every word that you have said to me?"
+
+"Yes, every word," said Emilie, blushing, yet speaking with firmness.
+"I have no mysteries--I do not wish to conceal from Mrs. Somers any
+thing that I say or think."
+
+Mrs. Somers seized Lady Littleton's arm, and left the room; but when
+she had entire possession of her friend's ear, she had nothing to say,
+or nothing that she would say, except half sentences, reproaching her
+for not staying longer, and insinuating that Emilie would be the cause
+of their separating for ever.--"Now, as you have her permission, will
+you favour me with a repetition of her last conversation?"
+
+"Not in your present humour, my dear," said Lady Littleton: "this
+is not the happy moment to speak reason to you. Adieu! I give you
+four-and-twenty hours' grace before I declare you a bankrupt in
+temper. You shall hear from me to-morrow; for, on some subjects, I
+have always found it better to write than to speak to you."
+
+Mrs. Somers continued during the remainder of the day in a desperate
+state of ill-humour, which was increased by finding that Mlle. de
+Coulanges could neither stand nor walk. Mrs. Somers was persuaded that
+Emilie, if she would have exerted herself, could have done both, but
+that she preferred exciting the pity of the whole house; and this, all
+circumstances considered, was a proof of total want of generosity and
+gratitude. The next morning, however, she was alarmed by hearing from
+Mrs. Masham, whom she had sent to attend upon Mlle. de Coulanges, that
+her ankle was violently swelled and inflamed.--Just when the full
+tide of her affections was beginning to flow in Emilie's favour, Mrs.
+Somers received the following letter from Lady Littleton:--
+
+    "Enclosed, I have sent you, as well as I can recollect it, every
+    word of the conversation that passed yesterday between Mlle. de
+    Coulanges and me. If I were less anxious for your happiness,
+    and if I had not so high an opinion of the excellence of your
+    disposition, I should wish, my dear friend, to spare both you and
+    myself the pain of speaking and hearing the truth. But I know that
+    I have preserved your affection many years beyond the usual limits
+    of female friendship, by daring to speak to you with perfect
+    sincerity, and by trusting to the justice of your better self.
+    Perhaps you would rather have a compliment to your generosity than
+    to your justice; but in this I shall not indulge you, because I
+    think you already set too high a value upon generosity. It has
+    been the misfortune of your life, my dear friend, to believe that,
+    by making great sacrifices, and conferring great benefits, you
+    could ensure to yourself, in return, affection and gratitude. You
+    mistake both the nature of obligation and the effect which it
+    produces on the human mind. Obligations may command gratitude, but
+    can never ensure love. If the benefit be of a pecuniary nature, it
+    is necessarily attended with a certain sense of humiliation, which
+    destroys the equality of friendship. Of whatever description the
+    favour may be, it becomes burdensome, if gratitude be expected as
+    a tribute, instead of being accepted as the free-will offering
+    of the heart: 'still paying still to owe' is irksome, even to
+    those who have nothing Satanic in their natures. A person who has
+    received a favour is in a defenceless state with respect to a
+    benefactor; and the benefactor who makes an improper use of the
+    power which gratitude gives becomes an oppressor. I know your
+    generous spirit, and I am fully sensible that no one has a more
+    just idea than you have of the delicacy that ought to be used
+    towards those whom you have obliged; but you must permit me to
+    observe, that your practice is not always conformable to your
+    theory. Temper is doubly necessary to those who love, as you do,
+    to confer favours: it is the duty of a benefactress to command her
+    feelings, and to refrain absolutely from every species of direct
+    or indirect reproach; else her kindness becomes only a source
+    of misery; and even from the benevolence of her disposition she
+    derives the means of giving pain.
+
+    "I have said enough; and I know that you will not be offended. The
+    moment your understanding is convinced and your heart touched,
+    all paltry jealousies and petty irritations subside, and you
+    are always capable of acting in a manner worthy of yourself.
+    Adieu!--May you, my dear friend, preserve the affections of one
+    who feels for you, I am convinced, the most sincere gratitude! You
+    will reap a rich harvest, if you do not, with childish impatience,
+    disturb the seeds that you have sown, to examine whether they are
+    growing.
+
+    "Your faithful friend,
+
+    "L. LITTLETON."
+
+This letter had an immediate and strong effect upon the mind of Mrs.
+Somers: she went directly with it open in her hand to Emilie. "Here,"
+said she, "is the letter of a noble-minded woman, who dares to speak
+truth, painful truth, to her best friend. She does me justice in
+being convinced that I shall not be offended; she does me justice
+in believing that an appeal to my candour and generosity cannot be
+in vain, especially when it is made by her voice. Emilie, you shall
+see that I am worthy to have a sincere friend; you shall see that
+I can even command my temper, when I have what, to my own feelings
+and understanding, appears adequate motive. But, my dear, you are
+in pain--let me look at this ankle--I am absolutely afraid to see
+it!--Good Heavens! how it is swelled!--And I fancied, all yesterday,
+that you could have walked upon it!--And I thought you wanted only
+to excite pity!--My poor child!--I have used you barbarously--most
+barbarously!" cried Mrs. Somers, kneeling down beside the sofa. "And
+can you ever forgive me?--Yes! that sweet smile tells me that you
+can."
+
+"All I ask of you," said Emilie, embracing Mrs. Somers, "is to believe
+that I am grateful, and to continue to make me love you as long as I
+live. This must depend upon you more than upon myself."
+
+"I know it, my dear," said Mrs. Somers. "Be satisfied--I will not
+wear out your affections. You have dealt fairly with me. I love you
+for having the courage to speak as you think.--But now that it is all
+over, I must tell you what it was that displeased me--for I hate half
+reconciliations: I will tell you all that passed in my mind."
+
+"Pray do," said Emilie; "for then I shall know how to avoid
+displeasing you another time."
+
+"No danger of that, my dear. You will never make me angry again; for
+I am sure you will now be as frank towards me as I am towards you. It
+was not your adapting that little poem to a French rather than to an
+English air that displeased me--I am not quite so childish as to be
+offended by such a trifle; but I own I did not like your saying that
+you chose it merely to comply with your mother's taste.--And you will
+acknowledge, Emilie, there was a want of sincerity, a want of candour,
+in your affected look of astonishment, when I mentioned M. de Brisac.
+I do not claim your confidence as a right--God forbid!--But if the
+warmest desire for your happiness, the most affectionate sympathy, can
+merit confidence--But I will not say a word that can imply reproach.
+On the contrary, I will only assure you, that I have penetration
+sufficient always to know your wishes, and activity enough to serve
+you effectually, even without being your confidante. I shall this
+night see a friend who is in power--I will speak to him about M. de
+Brisac: I have hopes that his pension from our government may be
+doubled."
+
+"I wish it may, for his sake," said Emilie; "but certainly not for my
+own."
+
+"Oh! Mlle. de Coulanges!--But I have no right to extort confidence. I
+will not, as I said before, utter a syllable that can imply reproach.
+Let me go on with what I was telling you of my intentions. As soon as
+the pension is doubled, I will speak to Mad. de Coulanges about M. de
+Brisac."
+
+"For Heaven's sake, do not!" interrupted Emilie; "for you would do me
+the greatest possible injury. Mamma would then think it a suitable
+match, and she would wish me to marry him; and nothing could make me
+move unhappy than to be under the necessity of acting contrary to my
+duty--of disobeying and displeasing her for ever--or else of uniting
+myself to M. de Brisac, whom I can neither love nor esteem."
+
+"Is it possible," exclaimed Mrs. Somers, with joyful astonishment, "is
+it possible that I have been under a mistake all this time? My dearest
+Emilie! now you are every thing I first thought you! Indeed, I could
+not think with patience of your making such a match; for M. de Brisac
+is a mere nothing--worse than a mere nothing; a coxcomb, and a peevish
+coxcomb."
+
+"And how could you suspect me of loving such a man?" said Emilie.
+
+"I never thought you loved him, but I thought you would marry him.
+French marriages, you know, according to _l'ancien regime_, in which
+you were brought up, were never supposed to be affairs of the heart,
+but mere alliances of interest, pride, or convenience."
+
+"Yes--_des mariages de convenance_," said Emilie. "We have suffered
+terribly by the revolution; but I owe to it one blessing, which,
+putting what mamma has felt out of the question, I should say has
+overbalanced all our losses: I have escaped--what must have been my
+fate in the ancient order of things--_un mariage de convenance_.
+I must tell you how I escaped by a happy misfortune," continued
+Emilie, suddenly recovering her vivacity of manner. "The family of
+M. de Brisac had settled, with mine, that I was to be la Comtesse de
+Brisac--But we lost our property, and M. le comte his memory. Mamma
+was provoked and indignant--I rejoiced. When I saw how shabbily he
+behaved, could I do otherwise than rejoice at having escaped being
+his wife? M. le Comte de Brisac soon lost his hereditary honours and
+possessions--Heaven forgive me for not pitying him! I was only glad
+mamma now agreed with me that we had nothing to regret. I had hoped
+that we should never have heard more of him: but, lo! here he is again
+in my way with a commission in your English army and a pension from
+your generous king, which make him, amongst poor emigrants, a man of
+consequence. And he has taken it into his head to sigh for me, because
+I laugh at him; and he talks of his sentiments!--sentiments!--he who
+has no principles!--"
+
+"My noble-minded Emilie!" cried Mrs. Somers; "I cannot express to you
+the delight I feel at this explanation. How could I be such an idiot
+as not sooner to see the truth! But I was misled by the solicitude
+that Mad. de Coulanges showed about this M. de Brisac; and I foolishly
+concluded that you and your mother were one. On the contrary, no
+two people can be more different, thank Heaven!--I beg your pardon
+for that thanksgiving--I see it distresses you, my dear Emilie--and
+believe me, I never was less disposed to give you pain--I have made
+you suffer too much already, both in mind and body. This terrible
+ankle--"
+
+"It does not give me any pain," said Emilie, "except when I attempt to
+walk; and it is no great misfortune to be obliged to be quiet for a
+few days."
+
+Mrs. Somers' whole soul was now intent upon the means of making her
+young friend amends for all she had suffered: this last conversation
+had raised her to the highest point both of favour and esteem. Mrs.
+Somers was now revolving in her mind a scheme, which she had formed in
+the first moments of her partiality for Emilie--a scheme of marrying
+her to her son. She had often quarrelled with this son; but she
+persuaded herself that Emilie would make him every thing that was
+amiable and respectable, and that she would form an indissoluble bond
+of family union and felicity. "Then," said she to herself, "Emilie
+will certainly be established according to her mother's satisfaction.
+M. de Brisac cannot possibly stand in the way here; for my son has
+name and fortune, and every thing that Mad. de Coulanges can desire."
+
+Mrs. Somers wrote immediately to summon her son home. In the mean
+time, delighted with this new and grand project, and thinking herself
+sure of success, she neglected, according to her usual custom, the
+"little courtesies of life;" and all Lady Littleton's excellent
+observations upon the nature of gratitude, and the effect produced on
+the mind by obligations, were entirely obliterated from her memory.
+
+Emilie's sprained ankle confined her to the house for some weeks; both
+Mad. de Coulanges and Mrs. Somers began by offering in the most eager
+manner, in competition with each other, to stay at home every evening
+to keep her company; but she found that she could not accept of the
+offer of one without offending the other; she knew that her mother
+would have _les vapeurs noirs_, if she were not in _society_; and
+as she had reason to apprehend that Mrs. Somers could not, with the
+best intentions possible, remain three hours alone, with even a
+dear friend, without finding or making some subject of quarrel, she
+wisely declined all these kind offers. In fact, these were _trifling
+sacrifices_, which it would not have suited Mrs. Somers' temper to
+make: for there was no glory to be gained by them. She regularly came
+every evening, as soon as she was dressed, to pity Emilie--to repeat
+her wish that she might be allowed to stay at home--then to step into
+her carriage, and drive away to spend four hours in company which she
+professed to hate.
+
+Lady Littleton made no complimentary speeches, but every day she
+contrived to spend some time with Emilie; and, by a thousand small but
+kind instances of attention, which asked neither for admiration nor
+gratitude, she contributed to Emilie's daily happiness.
+
+This ready sympathy, and this promptitude to oblige in trifles, became
+extremely agreeable to Mlle. de Coulanges: perhaps from the contrast
+with Mrs. Somers' defects, Lady Littleton's manners pleased her
+peculiarly. She was under no fear of giving offence, so that she could
+speak her sentiments or express her feelings without constraint: and,
+in short, she enjoyed in this lady's society, a degree of tranquillity
+of mind and freedom to which she had long been a stranger. Lady
+Littleton had employed her excellent understanding in studying
+the minute circumstances which tend to make people, of different
+characters and tempers, agree and live happily together; and she
+understood and practised so successfully all the _honest_ arts of
+pleasing, that she rendered herself the centre of union to a large
+circle of relations, many of whom she had converted into friends. This
+she had accomplished without any violent effort, without making any
+splendid sacrifices, but with that calm, gentle, persevering kindness
+of temper, which, when united to good sense, forms the real happiness
+of domestic life, and the true perfection of the female character.
+Those who have not traced the causes of family quarrels would not
+readily guess from what slight circumstances they often originate:
+they arise more frequently from small defects in temper than from
+material faults of character. People who would perhaps sacrifice their
+fortunes or lives for each other cannot, at certain moments, give up
+their will, or command their humour in the slightest degree.
+
+Whilst Emilie was confined by her sprained ankle, she employed herself
+in embroidering and painting various trifles, which she intended
+to offer as _souvenirs_ to her English friends. Amongst these, the
+prettiest was one which she called _the watch of Flora_.[1] It
+was a dial plate for a pendule, on which the hours were marked
+by flowers--by those flowers which open or close their petals at
+particular times of the day. "Linnaeus has enumerated forty-six flowers
+which possess this kind of sensibility; and has marked," as he says,
+"their respective hours of rising and setting." From these forty-six
+Emilie wished to select the most beautiful: she had some difficulty in
+finding such as would suit her purpose, especially as the observations
+made in the botanic gardens of Upsal could not exactly agree with our
+climate. She sometimes applied to Mrs. Somers for assistance; but Mrs.
+Somers repeatedly forgot to borrow for her the botanical books which
+she wanted: this was too small a service for her to remember. She
+was provoked at last by Emilie's reiterated requests, and vexed by
+her own forgetfulness; so that Mlle. de Coulanges at last determined
+not to run the risk of offending, and she reluctantly laid aside her
+dial-plate.
+
+[Footnote 1: See Botanic Garden, canto 2.]
+
+Young people of vivacious and inventive tempers, who know what it is
+to be eagerly intent upon some favourite little project, will give
+Emilie due credit for her forbearance. Lady Littleton, though not a
+young person, could so far sympathize in the pursuits of youth, as to
+feel for Emilie's disappointment. "No," said she, "you must not lay
+aside your watch of Flora; perhaps I can help you to what you want."
+She was indefatigable in the search of books and flowers; and, by
+assisting her in the pursuit of this slight object, she not only
+enabled her to spend many happy hours, but was of the most essential
+service to Emilie. It happened, that one morning, when Lady Littleton
+went to Kew Gardens to search in the hot-houses for some of the
+flowers, and to ascertain their hours of closing, she met with a
+French botanist, who had just arrived from Paris, who came to examine
+the arrangement of Kew Gardens, and to compare it with that of
+the Jardin des Plantes. He paid some deserved compliments to the
+superiority of Kew Gardens; and, with the ease of a Frenchman, he
+entered into conversation with Lady Littleton. As he inquired for
+several French emigrants, she mentioned the name of Mad. de Coulanges,
+and asked whether he knew to whom the property of her family now
+belonged. He said, "that it was still in the possession of that
+_scelerat_ of a steward, who had, by his informations, brought his
+excellent master, le Comte de Coulanges, to the guillotine. But,"
+added the botanist, "if you, madam, are acquainted with any of the
+family, will you give them notice that this wretch is near his end;
+that he has, within a few weeks, had two strokes of apoplexy; and that
+his eldest son by no means resembles him; but is a worthy young man,
+who, to my certain knowledge, is shocked at his father's crimes, and
+who might be prevailed upon, by a reasonable consideration, to restore
+to the family, to whom it originally belonged, the property that
+has been seized. I have more than once, even in the most dangerous
+times, heard him (in confidence) express the strongest attachment to
+the descendant of the good master, who loaded him in his childhood
+with favours. These sentiments he has been, of course, obliged to
+dissemble, and to profess directly the contrary principles: it can
+only be by such means that he can gain possession of the estate, which
+he wishes to restore to the rightful owners. He passes for as great
+a scoundrel as his father: this is not the least of his merits. But,
+madam, you may depend upon the correctness of my information, and of
+my knowledge of his character. I was once, as a man of science, under
+obligation to the late Comte de Coulanges, who gave me the use of his
+library; and most happy should I think myself, if I could by any means
+be instrumental in restoring his descendants to the possession of that
+library."
+
+There was such an air of truth and frankness in the countenance and
+manner of this gentleman, that, notwithstanding the extraordinary
+nature of his information, and the still more extraordinary facility
+with which it was communicated, Lady Littleton could not help
+believing him. He gave her ladyship his address; told her that he
+should return to Paris in a few days; and that he should be happy
+if he could be made, in any manner, useful to Mad. de Coulanges.
+Impatient to impart all this good news to her friends, Lady Littleton
+hastened to Mrs. Somers'; but just as she put her hand on the lock of
+Emilie's door, she recollected Mrs. Somers, and determined to tell
+her the first, that she might have the pleasure of communicating the
+joyful tidings. From her knowledge of the temper of her friend, Lady
+Littleton thought that this would be peculiarly gratifying to her;
+but, contrary to all rational expectation, Mrs. Somers heard the news
+with an air of extreme mortification, which soon turned into anger.
+She got up and walked about the room, whilst Lady Littleton was
+speaking; and, as soon as she had finished her story, exclaimed, "Was
+there ever any thing so provoking!"
+
+She continued walking, deep in reverie, whilst Lady Littleton sat
+looking at her in amazement. Mrs. Somers having once formed the
+_generous_ scheme of enriching Emilie by a marriage with her son, was
+actually disappointed to find that there was a probability that Mlle.
+de Coulanges should recover a fortune which would make her more than a
+suitable match for Mr. Somers. There was another circumstance that was
+still more provoking--this property was likely to be recovered without
+the assistance of Mrs. Somers. There are people who would rather that
+their best friends should miss a piece of good fortune than that they
+should obtain it without their intervention. Mrs. Somers at length
+quieted her own mind by the idea that all Lady Littleton had heard
+might have no foundation in truth.
+
+"I am surprised, my dear friend, that a person of your excellent
+judgment can, for an instant, believe such a strange story as this,"
+said Mrs. Somers. "I assure you, I do not give the slightest credit to
+it; and, in my opinion, it would be much better not to say one word
+about the matter, either to Emilie or Mad. de Coulanges: it will only
+fill their minds with false and absurd hopes. Mad. de Coulanges will
+torment herself and me to death with conjectures and exclamations; and
+we shall hear of nothing but the Hotel de Coulanges, and the Chateau
+de Coulanges, from morning till night; and, after all, I am convinced
+she will never see either of them again."
+
+To this assertion, which Mrs. Somers could support only by
+repeating that it was her conviction--that it was her unalterable
+conviction--Lady Littleton simply replied, that it would be improper
+not to mention what had happened to Mad. de Coulanges, because this
+would deprive her of an opportunity of judging and acting for herself
+in her own affairs. "This French gentleman has offered to carry
+letters, or to do her any service in his power; and we should not be
+justifiable in concealing this: the information may be false, but of
+that Mad. de Coulanges should at least have an opportunity of judging;
+she should see this botanist, and she will recollect whether what he
+says of the count, and his allowing him the use of his library, be
+true or false: from these circumstances we may obtain some farther
+reason to believe or disbelieve him. I should be sorry to excite hopes
+which must end in disappointment; but the chance of good, in this
+case, appears to me far greater than the chance of evil."
+
+"Very well, my dear Lady Littleton," interrupted Mrs. Somers, "you
+will follow your judgment, and I must be allowed to follow mine,
+though I make no doubt that yours is superior. Manage this business as
+you please: I will have nothing to do with it. It is your opinion that
+Mad. de Coulanges and her daughter should hear this wonderfully fine
+story; therefore I beg you will be the relater--I must be excused--for
+my part, I can't give any credit to it--no, not the slightest. But
+your judgment is better than mine, Lady Littleton--you will act as you
+think proper, and manage the whole business yourself--I am sure I wish
+you success with all my heart."
+
+Lady Littleton, by a mixture of firmness and gentleness in her manner,
+so far worked upon the temper of Mrs. Somers, as to prevail upon her
+to believe that the management of the business was not her object; and
+she even persuaded Mrs. Somers to be present when the intelligence
+was communicated to Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie. She could not,
+however, forbear repeating, that she did not believe the story:--this
+incredulity afforded her a plausible pretext for not sympathizing in
+the general joy. Mad. de Coulanges was alternately in ecstasy and in
+despair, as she listened to Lady Littleton or to Mrs. Somers: her
+exclamations would have been much less frequent and violent, if Mrs.
+Somers had not provoked them, by mixing with her hopes a large portion
+of fear. The next day, when she saw the French gentleman, her hopes
+were predominant: for she recollected perfectly having seen this
+gentleman, in former times, at the Hotel de Coulanges; she knew that
+he was _un savant_; and that he had, before the revolution, the
+reputation of being a very worthy man. Mad. de Coulanges, by Lady
+Littleton's advice, determined, however, to be cautious in what she
+wrote to send to France by this gentleman. Emilie took the letters to
+Mrs. Somers, and requested her opinion; but she declined giving any.
+
+"I have nothing to do with the business, Mlle. de Coulanges," said
+she; "you will be guided by the opinion of my Lady Littleton."
+
+Emilie saw that it was in vain to expostulate; she retired in silence,
+much embarrassed as to the answer which she was to give to her mother,
+who was waiting to hear the opinion of Mrs. Somers. Mad. de Coulanges,
+impatient with Emilie, for bringing her only a reference to Lady
+Littleton's opinion, went herself, with what she thought the most
+amiable politeness, to solicit the advice of Mrs. Somers; but she was
+astonished, and absolutely shocked, by the coldness and want of good
+breeding with which this lady persisted in a refusal to have any thing
+to do with the business, or even to read the letters which waited
+for her judgment. The countess opened her large eyes to their utmost
+orbicular extent; and, after a moment's _silence_, the strongest
+possible expression that she could give of amazement, she also
+retired, and returned to Emilie, to demand from her an explanation of
+what she could not understand. The ill-humour of Mrs. Somers, now that
+Mad. de Coulanges was wakened to the perception of it, was not, as
+it had been to poor Emilie, a subject of continual anxiety and pain,
+but merely matter of astonishment and curiosity. She looked upon
+Mrs. Somers as an English _oddity_, as a _lusus naturae_; and she
+alternately asked Emilie to account for these strange appearances, or
+shrugged up her shoulders, and submitted to the impossibility of a
+Frenchwoman's ever understanding such _extravagances_.
+
+"Ah que c'est bizarre! Mais, mon enfant, expliquez moi done tout
+ca--Mais ca ne s'explique point--Certes c'est une Anglaise qui scait
+donner, mais qui ne scait pas vivre.--Voltaire s'y connaissait mieux
+que moi apparemment--et heureusement."
+
+Content with this easy method of settling things, Mad. de Coulanges
+sealed and despatched her letters, appealed no more to Mrs. Somers
+for advice, and, when she saw any extraordinary signs of displeasure,
+repeated to herself--"Ah que c'est bizarre!" And this phrase was
+for some time a quieting charm. But as the anxiety of the countess
+increased, at the time when she expected to receive the decisive
+answer from her steward's son, she talked with incessant and
+uncontrollable volubility of her hopes and fears--her conjectures
+and calculations--and of the Chateau and Hotel de Coulanges; and she
+could not endure to see that Mrs. Somers heard all this with affected
+coldness or real impatience.
+
+"How is this possible, Emilie?" said she. "Here is a woman who would
+give me half her fortune, and who yet seems to wish that I should not
+recover the whole of mine! Here is a woman who would move heaven and
+earth to serve me in her own way; but who, nevertheless, will not
+give me either a word of advice or a look of sympathy, in the most
+important affair and the most anxious moment of my life! But this is
+more than _bizarre_--this is intolerably provoking. For my part, I
+would rather a friend would deny me any thing than sympathy: without
+sympathy, there is no society--there is no living--there is no
+talking. I begin to feel my obligations a burden; and, positively,
+with the first money I receive from my estates, I will relieve
+myself from my pecuniary debt to this generous but incomprehensible
+Englishwoman."
+
+Every day Emilie dreaded the arrival of the post, when her mother
+asked, "Are there any letters from Paris?"--Constantly the answer
+was--"No."--Mrs. Somers' look was triumphant; and Mad. de Coulanges
+applied regularly to her smelling-bottle or her snuff-box to conceal
+her emotion, which Mrs. Somers increased by indirect reflections upon
+the absurdity of those who listen to idle reports, and build castles
+in the air. Having set her opinion in opposition to Lady Littleton's,
+she supported it with a degree of obstinacy, and even acrimony, which
+made her often transgress the bounds of that politeness which she had
+formerly maintained in all her differences with the comtesse.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges could no longer consider her humour as merely
+_bizarre_, she found it _insupportable_; and Mrs. Somers appeared to
+her totally changed, and absolutely odious, now that she was roused by
+her own sufferings to the perception of those evils which Emilie had
+long borne with all the firmness of principle, and all the philosophy
+of gratitude. Not a day passed without her complaining to Emilie of
+some _grossierete_ from Mrs. Somers. Mad. de Coulanges suffered so
+much from irritation and anxiety, that her _vapeurs noirs_ returned
+with tenfold violence. Emilie had loved Mrs. Somers, even when most
+unreasonable towards herself, as long as she behaved with kindness to
+her mother; but now that, instead of a source of pleasure, she became
+the hourly cause of pain to Mad. de Coulanges, Emilie's affection
+could no farther go; and she really began to dislike this lady--to
+dread to see her come into the room--and to tremble at hearing her
+voice. Emilie could judge only by what she saw; and she could not
+divine that Mrs. Somers was occupied, all this time, with the generous
+scheme of marrying her to her son and heir, and of settling upon her
+a large fortune; nor could she guess, that all the ill-humour in Mrs.
+Somers originated in the fear that her friends should be made either
+rich or happy without her assistance. Her son's delaying to return
+home, according to her mandate, had disappointed and vexed her
+extremely. Every day, when the post came in, she inquired for letters
+with almost as much eagerness as Mad. de Coulanges. At length a letter
+came from Mr. Somers, to inform his impatient mother that he should
+certainly be in town the beginning of the ensuing week. Delighted by
+this news, she could not refrain from the temptation of opening her
+whole mind to Emilie; though she had previously resolved not to give
+the slightest intimation of her scheme to any one, not even to Lady
+Littleton, till a definitive answer had been received from Paris,
+respecting the fortune of Mad. de Coulanges. Often, when Mrs.
+Somers was full of some magnanimous design, the merest trifle that
+interrupted the full display of her generosity threw her into a
+passion, even with those whom she was going to serve. So it happened
+in the present instance. She went, with her open letter in her hand,
+to the countess's apartment, where unluckily she found M. de Brisac,
+who was going to read the French newspapers to madame. Mrs. Somers sat
+down beside Emilie, who was painting the last flower of her watch of
+Flora. Mrs. Somers wrote on a slip of paper, "Don't ask M. de Brisac
+to read the papers, for I want to speak to you." She threw down the
+note before Emilie, who was so intent upon what she was about, that
+she did not immediately see it--Mrs. Somers touched her elbow--Emilie
+started, and let fall her brush, which made a blot upon her
+dial-plate.
+
+"Oh! what a pity!--Just as I had finished my work," cried Emilie, "I
+have spoiled it!"
+
+M. de Brisac laid down the newspaper to pour forth compliments of
+condolence.--Mrs. Somers tore the piece of paper as he approached
+the table, and said, with some asperity, "One would think this was a
+matter of life and death, by the terms in which it is deplored."
+
+M. de Brisac, who stood so that Mrs. Somers could not see him,
+shrugged his shoulders, and looked at Mad. de Coulanges, who answered
+him by another look, that plainly said, "This is English politeness!"
+
+Emilie, who saw that her mother was displeased, endeavoured to change
+the course of her thoughts, by begging M. de Brisac to go on with what
+he was reading from the French papers. This was a fresh provocation to
+Mrs. Somers, who forgot that Emilie had not read the words on the slip
+of paper which had been torn; and consequently could not know all Mrs.
+Somers' impatience for his departure. M. de Brisac read, in what this
+lady called his _unemphatic French tone_, paragraph after paragraph,
+and column after column, whilst her anxiety to have him go every
+moment increased. She moulded her son's letter into all manner of
+shapes as she sat in penance. To complete her misfortunes, something
+in the paper put Mad. de Coulanges in mind of former times; and she
+began a long history of the destruction of some fine old tapestry
+hangings in the Chateau de Coulanges, at the beginning of the
+Revolution: this led to endless melancholy reflections; and at length
+tears began to flow from the fine eyes of the countess.
+
+Just at this instant a butterfly flew into the room, and passed by
+Mad. de Coulanges, who was sitting near the open window. "Oh! the
+beautiful butterfly!" cried she, starting up to catch it. "Did you
+ever see such a charming creature? Catch it, M. de Brisac!--Catch it,
+Emilie!--Catch it, Mrs. Somers!"
+
+With the tears yet upon her cheeks, Mad. de Coulanges began the
+chase, and M. de Brisac followed, beating the air with his perfumed
+handkerchief, and the butterfly fluttered round the table at which
+Emilie was standing.
+
+"Eh! M. de Brisac, catch it!--Catch it, Emilie!" repeated her
+mother.--"Catch it, Mrs. Somers, for the love of Heaven!"
+
+"_For the love of Heaven_!" repeated Mrs. Somers, who, immovably
+grave, and sullenly indignant, kept aloof during this chase.
+
+"Ah! pour le coup, papillon, je te tiens!" cried la comtesse, and with
+eager joy she covered it with a glass, as it lighted on the table.
+
+"Mlle. de Coulanges," cried Mrs. Somers, "I acknowledge, now, that I
+was wrong in my criticism of Caroline de Lichteld. I blamed the author
+for representing Caroline, at fifteen, or just when she is going to be
+married, as running after butterflies. I said that, at that age, it
+was too frivolous--out of drawing--out of nature. But I should have
+said only, that it was out of _English nature_.--I stand corrected."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges and M. de Brisac again interchanged looks, which
+expressed "_Est-il possible_!" And la comtesse then, with an unusual
+degree of deliberation and dignity in her manner, walked out of the
+room. Emilie, who saw that her mother was extremely offended, was much
+embarrassed--she went on washing the blot out of her drawing. M. de
+Brisac stood silently looking over her, and Mrs. Somers opposite to
+him, wishing him fairly at the antipodes. M. de Brisac, to break the
+silence, which seemed to him as if it never would be broken, asked
+Mlle. de Coulanges if she had ever seen the stadtholder's fine
+collection of butterflies, and if she did not admire them extremely?
+No, she never had; but she said that she admired extremely the
+generosity the stadtholder had shown in sacrificing, not only his fine
+collection of butterflies, but his most valuable pictures, to save the
+lives of the poor French emigrants, who were under his protection.
+
+At the sound of the word generosity, Mrs. Somers became attentive; and
+Emilie was in hopes that she would recover her temper, and apologize
+to her mother: but at this moment a servant came to tell Mlle. de
+Coulanges that la comtesse wished to speak to her immediately. She
+found her mother in no humour to receive any apology, even if it had
+been offered: nothing could have hurt Mad. de Coulanges more than the
+imputation of being frivolous.
+
+"Frivole!--frivole!--moi frivole!" she repeated, as soon as Emilie
+entered the room. "My dear Emilie! I would not live with this
+Mrs. Somers for the rest of my days, were she to offer me the Pitt
+diamond, or the whole mines of Golconda!--Bon Dieu!--neither money
+nor diamonds, after all, can pay for the want of kindness and
+politeness!--There is Lady Littleton, who has never done us any
+favour, but that of showing us attention and sympathy; I protest I
+love her a million of times better than I can love Mrs. Somers, to
+whom we owe so much. It is in vain, Emilie, to remind me that she is
+our benefactress. I have said that over and over to myself, till I am
+tired, and till I have absolutely lost all sense of the meaning of the
+word. Bitterly do I repent having accepted of such obligations from
+this strange woman; for, as to the idea of regaining our estate, and
+paying my debt to her, I have given up all hopes of it. You see that
+we have no letters from France. I am quite tired out. I am convinced
+that we shall never have any good news from Paris. And I cannot, I
+will not, remain longer in this house. Would you have me submit to be
+treated with disrespect? Mrs. Somers has affronted me before M. de
+Brisac, in a manner that I cannot, that I ought not, to endure--that
+you, Emilie, ought not to wish me to endure. I positively will
+not live upon the bounty of Mrs. Somers. There is but one way of
+extricating ourselves. M. de Brisac--Why do you turn pale, child?--M.
+de Brisac has this morning made me a proposal for you, and the best
+thing we can possibly do is to accept of it."
+
+"The best!--Pray don't say the best!" cried Emilie. "Ah! dear mamma,
+for me the worst! Let me beseech you not to sacrifice my happiness for
+ever by such a marriage!"
+
+"And what other can you expect, Emilie, in your present
+circumstances?"
+
+"None," said Emilie.
+
+"And here is an establishment--at least an independence for you--and
+you call it sacrificing your happiness for ever to accept of it!"
+
+"Yes," said Emilie; "because it is offered to me by one whom I can
+neither love nor esteem. Dearest mamma! can you forget all his former
+meanness of conduct?"
+
+"His present behaviour makes amends for the past," said Mad. de
+Coulanges, "and entitles him to my esteem and to yours, and that is
+sufficient. As to love--well educated girls do not marry for love."
+
+"But they ought not to marry without feeling love, should they?" said
+Emilie.
+
+"Emilie! Emilie!" said her mother, "these are strange ideas that have
+come into the heads of young women since the Revolution. If you had
+remained safe in your convent, I should have heard none of this
+nonsense."
+
+"Perhaps not, mamma," said Emilie, with a deep sigh. "But should I
+have been happier?"
+
+"A fine question, truly!--How can I tell? But this I can ask you--How
+can any girl expect to be happy, who abandons the principles in which
+she was bred up, and forgets her duty to the mother by whom she has
+been educated--the mother, whose pride, whose delight, whose darling,
+she has ever been? Oh, Emilie! this is to me worse than all I have
+ever suffered!"
+
+Mad. de Coulanges burst into a passion of tears, and Emilie stood
+looking at her in silent despair.
+
+"Emilie, you cannot deceive me," cried her mother; "you cannot pretend
+that it is simply your want of esteem for M. de Brisac which renders
+you thus obstinately averse to the match. You are in love with another
+person."
+
+"Not in love," said Emilie, in a faltering voice.
+
+"You cannot deceive me, Emilie--remember all you said to me about the
+stranger who was our fellow prisoner at the Abbaye. You cannot deny
+this, Emilie."
+
+"Nor do I, dear mamma," said Emilie. "I _cannot_ deceive you, indeed
+I _would_ not; and the best proof that I do not wish to deceive
+you--that I never attempted it--is, that I told you all I thought and
+felt about that stranger. I told you that his honourable, brave,
+and generous conduct towards us, when we were in distress, made an
+impression upon my heart--that I preferred him to any person I had
+ever seen--and I told you, my dear mamma, that--"
+
+"You told me too much," interrupted Mad. de Coulanges; "more than
+I wished to hear--more than I will have repeated, Emilie. This is
+romance and nonsense. The man, whoever he was--and Heaven knows who
+he was!--behaved very well, and was a very agreeable person: but what
+then? are you ever likely to see him again? Do you even know his
+birth--his name--his country--or any thing about him, but that he
+was brave and generous?--So are fifty other men, five hundred, five
+thousand, five million, I hope. But is this any reason that you should
+refuse to marry M. de Brisac? Henry the Fourth was brave and generous
+two hundred years ago. That is as much to the purpose. You have as
+much chance of establishing yourself, if you wait for Henry the Fourth
+to come to life again, as if you wait for this nameless nobody of a
+hero--who is perhaps married, after all--who knows!--Really, Emilie,
+this is too absurd!"
+
+"But, dear mamma, I cannot marry one man and love another--love I
+did not quite mean to say. But whilst I prefer another, I cannot, in
+honour, marry M. de Brisac."
+
+"Honour!--Love!--But in France, in my time, who ever heard of a
+young lady's being in love before she was married? You astonish, you
+frighten, you shock me, child! Recollect yourself, Emilie! Misfortune
+may have deprived you of the vast possessions to which you are
+heiress; but do not, therefore, degrade yourself and me by forgetting
+your principles, and all that the representative of the house of
+Coulanges ought to remember. And as for myself--have I no claim upon
+your affections, Emilie?--have not I been a fond mother?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Emilie, melting into tears. "Of your kindness I
+think more than of any thing else!--more than of the whole house of
+Coulanges!"
+
+"Do not let me see you in tears, child!" said Mad. de Coulanges, moved
+by Emilie's grief. "Your tears hurt my nerves more even than Mrs.
+Somers' _grossierete_. You must blame Mrs. Somers, not me, for all
+this--her temper drives me to it--I cannot live with her. We have no
+alternative. Emilie, my sweet child! make me happy!--I am miserable in
+this house. Hitherto you have ever been the best of daughters, and you
+shall find me the most indulgent of mothers. One whole month I will
+give you to change your mind, and recollect your duty. At the end
+of that time, I must see you Mad. de Brisac, and in a house of your
+own.--In the house of Mrs. Somers I will not, I cannot longer remain."
+
+Poor Emilie was glad of the reprieve of one month. She retired from
+her mother's presence in silent anguish, and hastened to her own
+apartment, that she might give way to her grief. There she found Mrs.
+Somers waiting for her, seated in an arm-chair, with an open letter in
+her hand.
+
+"Why do you start, Emilie? You look as if you were sorry to find me
+here," cried Mrs. Somers--"IF THAT be the case, Mlle. de Coulanges--"
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Somers! do not begin to quarrel with me at this moment, for
+I shall not be able to bear it--I am sufficiently unhappy already!"
+said Emilie.
+
+"I am extremely sorry that any thing should make you unhappy, Emilie,"
+said Mrs. Somers; "but I think that you had never less reason than at
+this moment to suspect me of an intention of quarrelling with you--I
+came here with a very different design. May I know the cause of your
+distress?"
+
+Emilie hesitated, for she did not know how to explain the cause
+without imputing blame either to Mrs. Somers or to her mother--she
+could only say--"_M. de Brisac_--"
+
+"What!" cried Mrs. Somers, "your mother wants you to marry him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Immediately?"
+
+"In one month."
+
+"And you have consented?"
+
+"No--But--"
+
+"_But_--Good Heavens! Emilie, what weakness of mind there is in that
+_but_--"
+
+"Is it weakness of mind to fear to disobey my mother--to dread to
+offend her for ever--to render her unhappy--and to deprive her,
+perhaps, even of the means of subsistence?"
+
+"_The means of subsistence_! my dear. This phrase, you know, can only
+be a figure of rhetoric," said Mrs. Somers. "Your refusing M. de
+Brisac cannot deprive your mother of the means of subsistence. In the
+first place, she expects to recover her property in France."
+
+"No," said Emilie; "she has given up these hopes--you have persuaded
+her that they are vain."
+
+"Indeed I think them so. But still you must know, my dear, that your
+mother can never be in want of the means of subsistence, nor any
+of the conveniences, and, I may add, luxuries of life, whilst I am
+alive."
+
+Emilie sighed; and when Mrs. Somers urged her more closely, she said,
+"Mamma has not, till lately, been accustomed to live on the bounty of
+others; the sense of dependence produces many painful feelings, and
+renders people more susceptible than perhaps they would be, were they
+on terms of equality."
+
+"To what does all this tend, my dear?" interrupted Mrs. Somers. "Is
+Mad. de Coulanges offended with me?--Is she tired of living with
+me?--Does she wish to quit my house?--And where does she intend to
+go?--Oh! that is a question that I need not ask!--Yes, yes--I have
+long foreseen it--you have arranged it admirably--you go to Lady
+Littleton, I presume?"
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"To M. de Brisac?"
+
+"Mamma wishes to go--"
+
+"Then to M. de Brisac, for Heaven's sake, let her go," cried Mrs.
+Somers, bursting into a fit of laughter, which astonished Emilie
+beyond measure. "To M. de Brisac let her go--'tis the best thing she
+can possibly do, my dear; and seriously to tell you the truth, I have
+always thought it would be an excellent match. Since she is so much
+prepossessed in his favour, can she do better than marry him? and, as
+he is so much attached to the house of Coulanges, when he cannot have
+the daughter, can he do better than marry the mother?--Your mother
+does not look too old for him, when she is well rouged; and I am sure,
+if she heard me say so, she would forgive me all the rest--butterfly,
+frivolity, and all inclusive. Permit me, Emilie, to laugh."
+
+"I cannot permit any body to laugh at mamma," said Emilie; "and Mrs.
+Somers is the last person whom I should have supposed would have been
+inclined to laugh, when I told her that I was really unhappy."
+
+"My dear Emilie, I forgive you for being angry, because I never saw
+you angry before; and that is more than you can say for me. You do me
+justice, however, by supposing that I should be the last person to
+laugh when you are in woe, unless I thought--unless I was sure--that I
+could remove the cause, and make you completely happy."
+
+"That, I fear, is impossible," said Emilie: "for mamma's pride and her
+feelings have been so much hurt, that I do not think any apology would
+now calm her mind."
+
+"Apology!--I am not in the least inclined to make any. Can I tell Mad.
+de Coulanges that I do not think her frivolous?--Impossible, indeed,
+my dear! I will do any thing else to oblige you. But I have as much
+pride, and as much feeling, in my own way, as any of the house of
+Coulanges: and if, after all I have done, madame can quarrel with
+me about a butterfly, I must say, not only that she is the most
+frivolous, but the most ungrateful woman upon earth; and, as she
+desires to quit my house, far from attempting to detain her, I can
+only wish that she may accomplish her purpose as soon as possible--as
+soon as it may suit her own convenience. As for you, Emilie, I do not
+suspect you of the ingratitude of wishing to leave me--I can make
+distinctions, even when I have most reason to be angry. I do not blame
+you, my dear--I do not ever ask you to blame your mother. I respect
+your filial piety--I am sure you must think her to blame, but I do not
+desire you to say so. Could any thing be more barbarously selfish than
+the plan of marrying _you_ to this M. de Brisac, that _she_ might have
+an establishment more to her taste than my house has been able to
+afford?"
+
+Emilie attempted, but in vain, to say a few words for her mother. Mrs.
+Somers ran on with her own thoughts.
+
+"And at what a time, at what a cruel time for me, did Mad. de
+Coulanges choose to express her desire to leave my house--at the
+moment when my whole soul was intent upon a scheme for the happiness
+of her daughter! Yes, Emilie, for your happiness!--and, my dear, your
+mother's conduct shall change nothing in my views. You I have always
+found uniformly kind, gentle, grateful--I will say no more--I have
+found in you, Emilie, real magnanimity. I have tried your temper
+much--sometimes too much--but I have always found you proof against
+these petty trials. Your character is suited to mine. I love you, as
+if you were my daughter, and I wish you to be my daughter.--Now you
+know my whole mind, Emilie. My son--my _eldest_ son, I should with
+emphasis say, if I were speaking to Mad. de Coulanges--will be here in
+a few days: read this letter. How happy I shall be if you find him--or
+if you will make him--such as you can entirely approve and love! You
+will have power over him--your influence will do what his mother's
+never could accomplish. But whatever reasons I may have to complain of
+him, this is not the time to state them--you will connect him with me.
+At all events, he is a man of honour and a gentleman; and as he is
+not, thank Heaven! under the debasing necessity of considering fortune
+in the choice of a wife, he is, at least in this respect, worthy of my
+dear and high-minded Emilie."
+
+Mrs. Somers paused, and fixed her eyes eagerly on Emilie, impatient
+for her answer, and already half provoked by not seeing the sudden
+transition of countenance which she had pictured in her imagination.
+With a mixture of dignity and affectionate gratitude in her manner,
+Emilie was beginning to thank Mrs. Somers for the generous kindness
+of her intention; but this susceptible lady interrupted her, and
+exclaimed, "Spare me your thanks, Mlle. de Coulanges, and tell me at
+once what is passing in your mind; for something very extraordinary is
+certainly passing there, which I cannot comprehend. Surely you cannot
+for a moment imagine that your mother will insist upon your now
+accepting of M. de Brisac; or, if she does, surely you would not have
+the weakness to yield. I must have some proof of strength of mind from
+my friends. You must judge for yourself, Emilie, or you are not the
+person I take you for. You will have full opportunity of judging in
+a few days. Will you promise me that you will decide entirely for
+yourself, and that you will keep your mind unbiassed? Will you promise
+me this? And will you speak, at all events, my dear, that I may
+understand you?"
+
+Emilie, who saw that even before she spoke Mrs. Somers was on the
+brink of anger, trembled at the idea of confessing the truth--that her
+heart was already biassed in favour of another: she had, however, the
+courage to explain to her all that passed in her mind. Mrs. Somers
+heard her with inexpressible disappointment. She was silent for some
+minutes. At last she said, in a voice of constrained passion, "Mlle.
+de Coulanges, I have only one question to ask of you--you will reflect
+before you answer it, because on your reply depends the continuance
+or utter dissolution of our friendship--do you, or do you not, think
+proper to refuse my son before you have seen him?"
+
+"Before I have seen Mr. Somers, it surely can be no affront to you
+or to him," said Emilie, "to decline an offer that I cannot accept,
+especially when I give as my reason, that my mind is prepossessed in
+favour of another. With that prepossession, I cannot unite myself to
+your son: I can only express to you my gratitude--my most sincere
+gratitude--for your kind and generous intentions, and my hopes that he
+will find, amongst his own countrywomen, one more suited to him than I
+can be. His fortune is far above--"
+
+"Say no more, I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges--I asked only for a simple
+answer to a plain question. You refuse my son--you refuse to be my
+daughter. I am satisfied--perfectly satisfied. I suppose you have
+arranged to go to Lady Littleton's. I heartily hope that she may be
+able to make her house more agreeable to you than I could render mine.
+Shake hands, Mlle. de Coulanges. You have my best wishes for your
+health and happiness--Here we part."
+
+"Oh! do not let us part in anger!" said Emilie.
+
+"In anger!--not in the least--I never was cooler in my life. You have
+completely cooled me--you have shown me the folly of that warmth of
+friendship which can meet with no return."
+
+"Would it be a suitable return for your warm friendship to deceive
+your son?" said Emilie.
+
+"To deceive me, I think still less suitable!" cried Mrs. Somers.
+
+"And how have I deceived you?"
+
+"You know best. Why was I kept in ignorance till the last moment? Why
+did you never confide your thoughts to me, Emilie? Why did you never
+till now say one word to me of this strange attachment?"
+
+"There was no necessity for speaking till now," said Emilie. "It is a
+subject I never named to any one except to mamma--a subject on which I
+did not think it right to speak to any one but to a parent."
+
+"Your notions of right and wrong, ma'am, differ widely from mine--we
+are not fit to live together. I have no idea of a friend's
+concealing any thing from me: without entire confidence, there is no
+friendship--at least no friendship with me. Pray no tears. I am not
+fond of _scenes_. Nobody ever is that feels much.--Adieu!--Adieu!"
+
+Mrs. Somers hurried out of the room, repeating, "I'll write
+directly--this instant--to Lady Littleton. Mad. de Coulanges shall not
+be kept prisoner in _my_ house." Emilie stood motionless.
+
+In a few minutes Mrs. Somers returned with an unfolded letter, which
+she put into Emilie's passive hand. "Read it, ma'am, I beg--read it. I
+do every thing openly--every thing handsomely, I hope--whatever may be
+my faults."
+
+The letter was written with a rapid hand, which was scarcely legible,
+especially to a foreigner. Emilie, with her eyes full of tears, had no
+chance of deciphering it.
+
+"Do not hurry yourself, ma'am," said Mrs. Somers. "I will leave you my
+letter to show to madame la comtesse, and then you will be so good as
+to despatch it.--Mlle. de Coulanges," cried Mrs. Somers, "you will be
+so obliging as to refrain from mentioning to the countess the foolish
+offer that I made you in my son's name this morning. There is no
+necessity for mortifying my pride any farther--a refusal from you is
+quite decisive--so pray let there be no consultations. As to the rest,
+the blame of our disagreement will of course be thrown upon me."
+
+As Emilie moved towards the door, Mrs. Somers said, "Mlle. de
+Coulanges, I beg pardon for calling you back: but should you ever
+think of this business or of me, hereafter, you will do me the justice
+to remember that I made the proposal to you at a time when I was under
+the firm belief that you would never recover an inch of your estates
+in France."
+
+"And you, dear Mrs. Somers, if you should ever think of me hereafter,"
+said Emilie, "will, I hope, remember that my answer was given under
+the same belief."
+
+With a look which seemed to refuse assent, Mrs. Somers continued, "I
+am as well aware, ma'am, as you, or Mad. de Coulanges, can be, that if
+you should recover your hereditary property, the heiress of the house
+of Coulanges would be a person to whom my son should not presume to
+aspire."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Somers! Is not this cruel mockery--undeserved by
+me--unworthy of you?"
+
+"Mockery!--Ma'am, it is not three days since your mother was so
+positive in her expectations of being in the Hotel de Coulanges before
+next winter, that she was almost in fits because I ventured to differ
+on this point from her and Lady Littleton--Lady Littleton's judgment
+is much better than mine, and has, of course, had its weight--very
+justly--But I insist upon your understanding clearly that it had no
+weight with me in this affair. Whatever you may imagine, I never
+thought of the Coulanges estate."
+
+"Believe me, I never could have imagined that you did. If _I_ could
+suspect Mrs. Somers of interested motives," said Emilie, with emotion
+so great that she could scarcely articulate the words, "I must be an
+unfeeling--an ungrateful idiot!"
+
+"No, not an idiot, Mlle. de Coulanges--nobody can mistake you for an
+idiot: but, as I was going to say, if you inquire, Lady Littleton can
+tell you that I was absolutely provoked when I first heard you had a
+chance of recovering your property--you may smile, ma'am, but it is
+perfectly true. I own I might have been more prudent; but prudence,
+in affairs of the heart, is not one of my virtues: I own, however,
+it would have been more prudent to have refrained from making this
+proposal, till you had received a positive answer from France."
+
+"And why?" said Emilie. "Whatever that answer might have been, surely
+you must be certain that it would not have made any alteration in
+my conduct.--You are silent, Mrs. Somers!--You wound me to the
+heart!--Oh! do me justice!--Justice is all I ask."
+
+"I think that I do you justice--full justice--Mlle. de Coulanges; and
+if it wounds you to the heart, I am sorry for it; but that is not my
+fault."
+
+Emilie's countenance suddenly changed from the expression of
+supplicating tenderness to haughty indignation. "You doubt my
+integrity!" she exclaimed: "then, indeed, Mrs. Somers, it is best that
+we should part!"
+
+Mlle. de Coulanges disappeared, and Mrs. Somers shut herself up in her
+room, where she walked backwards and forwards for above an hour, then
+threw herself upon a sofa, and remained nearly another hour, till Mrs.
+Masham came to say that it was time to dress for dinner. She then
+started up, saying aloud, "I will think no more of these ungrateful
+people."
+
+"They are gone, ma'am," said Mrs. Masham--"gone, and gave no
+vails!--which I don't think _on_, upon my own account, God knows! for
+if millions were offered me, in pocket-pieces, I would not touch one
+from any soul that comes to the house, having enough, and more than
+enough, from my own generous lady, who is the only person I stoop to
+receive from with pleasure. But there are others in the house who
+are accustomed to vails, and, after staying so long, it was a little
+ungenteel to go without so much as offering any one any thing--and to
+go in such a hurry and huff--taking only a French leave, after all!
+I must acknowledge with you, ma'am, that they are the ungratefullest
+people that ever were seen in England. Why, ma'am, I went backwards
+and forwards often enough into their apartments, to try to make out
+the cause of the packings and messages to the washer-woman, that I
+might inform you, but nothing transpired; yet I am certain, in their
+hearts, they are more black and ungrateful than any that ever were
+born; for there!--at the last moment, when even, for old acquaintance
+sake, the tears stood in my eyes, there was Miss Emilie, sitting as
+composedly as a judge, painting a butterfly's wing on some of her
+Frenchifications! Her eyes were red, to do her justice; but whether
+with painting or crying, I can't pretend to be certain. But as to Mad.
+de Coulanges, I can answer for her that the sole thing in nature
+she thought of, in leaving this house, was the bad step of the
+hackney-coach."
+
+"Hackney-coach!" cried Mrs. Somers, with surprise. "Did they go away
+in a hackney-coach?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, much against the countess' stomach, I am sure: I only
+wish you had seen the face she made when the glass would not come up."
+
+"But why did not they take my carriage, or wait for Lady Littleton's?
+They were, it seems, in a violent hurry to be gone," said Mrs. Somers.
+
+"So it seems, indeed, ma'am--no better proof of their being the most
+ungratefullest people in the universe: but so it is, by all accounts,
+with all of their nation--the French having no constant hearts for any
+thing but singing, and dancing, and dressing, and making merry-andrews
+of themselves. Indeed, I own, till to-day, I thought Miss Emilie had
+less of the merry-andrew nature than any of her country; but the
+butterfly has satisfied me that there is no striving against climate
+and natural character, which conquer gratitude and every thing else."
+
+Mrs. Somers sighed, and told Masham that she had said enough upon
+this disagreeable subject. At dinner the subject was renewed by many
+visitors, who, as soon as they found that Mad. and Mlle. de Coulanges
+had left Mrs. Somers, began to find innumerable faults with the French
+in general, and with the countess and her daughter in particular. On
+the chapter of gratitude they were most severe; and Mrs. Somers was
+universally pitied for having so much generosity, and blamed for
+having had so much patience. Every body declared that they foresaw
+how she would be treated; and the exclamations of wonder at Lady
+Littleton's inviting to her house those who had behaved so ill to
+her friend were unceasing. Mrs. Somers all the time denied that she
+had any cause of complaint against either Mad. de Coulanges or her
+daughter; but the company judiciously trusted more to her looks than
+her words. Every thing was said or hinted that could exasperate her
+against her former favourites: for Mad. de Coulanges had made many
+enemies by engrossing an unreasonable share in the conversation; and
+Emilie by attracting too great a portion of attention by her beauty
+and engaging manners. Malice often overshoots the mark: Mrs. Somers
+was at first glad to hear the objects of her indignation abused; but
+at last she began to think the profusion of blame greater than was
+merited, and when she retired to rest at night, and when Masham began
+with "Oh, ma'am! do you know that Mlle. de Coulanges--" Mrs. Somers
+interrupted her, and said, "Masham, I desire to hear nothing more
+about Mlle. de Coulanges: I have heard her and her mother abused,
+without ceasing, these two hours, and that is enough."
+
+"Lord! ma'am, I was not going to abuse them--God forbid! I was just
+going to tell you," cried Masham, "that never was any thing so
+mistaken as all I said before dinner. Just now, ma'am, when I went
+into the little dressing-room, within Mad. de Coulanges' room, and
+happened to open the wardrobe, I was quite struck back with shame at
+my own unjustice: there, ma'am, poor Miss Emilie left something--and
+out of her best things!--to every maid-servant in the house; all
+directed in her own hand, and with a good word for each; and this ring
+for me, which she is kind enough to say is of no value but to put me
+in mind of all the attentions I have shown her and her mother--which,
+I am sure, were scarcely worth noticing, especially at such a time
+when she had enough to do, and her heart full, no doubt, poor
+soul!--There are her little paintings and embroideries, and pretty
+things, that she did when she was confined with her sprain, all laid
+out in order--'tis my astonishment how she found time!--and directed
+to her friends in London, as keep-sakes:--and the very butterfly that
+I was so angry with her for staying to finish, is on something for
+you, ma'am; and here's a packet that was with it, and that nobody saw
+till this minute."
+
+"Give it me!" cried Mrs. Somers. She tore it open, and found, in the
+first place, the pocketbook, full of bank notes, which she had given
+Mad. de Coulanges, with a few polite but haughty lines from the
+countess, saying that only twenty guineas had been used, which she
+hoped, at some future period, to be able to repay. Then came a note
+from Emilie, in which Mrs. Somers found her own letter to Lady
+Littleton. Emilie expressed herself as follows.
+
+    "Many thanks for the enclosed, but we have determined not to go to
+    Lady Littleton's: at least we will take care not to be the cause
+    of quarrel between friends to whom we are so much obliged.--No,
+    dear Mrs. Somers! we do not part in anger. Excuse me, if the last
+    words I said to you were hasty--they were forced from me by a
+    moment of passion--but it is past: all your generosity, all your
+    kindness, the recollection of all that you have done, all that you
+    have wished for my happiness, rush upon my mind; and every other
+    thought, and every other feeling, is forgotten. Would to Heaven
+    that I could express to you my gratitude by actions!--but words,
+    alas! are all that I have in my power--and where shall I find
+    words that can reach your heart? I had better be silent, and trust
+    to time and to you. I know your generous temper--you will soon
+    blame yourself for having judged too severely of Emilie. But
+    do not reproach yourself--do not let this give you a moment's
+    uneasiness: the clouds pass away, and the blue sky remains. Think
+    only--as I ever shall--of your goodness to mamma and to me. Adieu!
+
+    "EMILIE DE COULANGES."
+
+Mrs. Somers was much affected by this letter, and by the information
+that Emilie and her mother had declined taking refuge with Lady
+Littleton, lest they should occasion jealousies between her and her
+friend. Generous people are, of all others, the most touched by
+generosity of sentiment or of action. Mrs. Somers went to bed, enraged
+against herself--but it was now too late.
+
+In the mean time, Emilie and her mother were in an obscure lodging, at
+a haberdasher's near Golden Square. The pride of Mad. de Coulanges,
+at first, supported her even beyond her daughter's expectations; she
+uttered no complaints, but frequently repeated, "Mais nous sommes
+bien ici, tres bien--we cannot expect to have things as well as at
+the Hotel de Coulanges." In a short time she was threatened with fits
+of her _vapeurs noirs_; but Emilie, with the assistance of her whole
+store of French songs, a bird-organ, a lap-dog, and a squirrel,
+belonging to the girl of the house, contrived to avert the danger for
+the present--as to the future, she trembled to think of it. M. de
+Brisac seemed to be continually in her mother's thoughts; and whatever
+occurred, or whatever was the subject of conversation, Mad. de
+Coulanges always found means to end with "_a propos de M. de Brisac_."
+Faithful to her promise, however, which Emilie, with the utmost
+delicacy, recalled to her mind, she declared that she would not give
+M. de Brisac an answer till the end of the month, which she had
+allowed her daughter for reflection, and that, till that period,
+she would not even let him know where they were to be found. Emilie
+thought that the time went very fast, and her mother evidently
+rejoiced at the idea that the month would soon be at an end. Emilie
+endeavoured, with all her skill, to demonstrate to her mother that
+it would be possible to support themselves, by her industry and
+ingenuity, without this marriage; and to this, Mad. de Coulanges at
+first replied, "Try, and you will soon be tired, child." Emilie's
+spirits rose on receiving this permission: she began by copying music
+for a music-shop in the neighbourhood; and her mother saw, with
+astonishment, that she persevered in her design, and that no fatigue
+or discouraging circumstances could vanquish her resolution.
+
+"Good Heavens! my child," said she, "you will wear yourself to a
+skeleton with copying music, and with painting, and embroidery,
+besides stooping so many hours over that tambour frame. My dear, how
+can you bear all this?"
+
+"How!--Oh! dear mamma!" said Emilie, "there is no great difficulty in
+all this to me--the difficulty, the impossibility would be, to live
+happily with a man I despise."
+
+"I wish," cried Mad. de Coulanges, "I wish to all the saints, that
+that hero of yours, that fellow-prisoner of ours at the Abbaye, with
+his humanity, and his generosity, and his courage, and all his fine
+qualities, had kept out of your way, Emilie: I wish he were fairly at
+the bottom of the Black Sea."
+
+"But you forget that he was the means of obtaining your liberty,
+mamma."
+
+"I wish I could forget it--I am always doomed to be obliged to those
+whom I cannot love. But, after all, you might as well think of the
+khan of Tartary as of this man, whom we shall never hear of more.
+Marry M. de Brisac, like a reasonable creature, and do not let me see
+you bending, as you do, for ever, over a tambour frame, wasting your
+fine eyes and spoiling your charming shape."
+
+"But, mamma," said Emilie, "would it not be much worse to marry one
+man, and like another?"
+
+"For mercy's sake! say something new to me, Emilie; at all events, I
+have heard this a hundred times."
+
+"The simple truth, alas!" said Emilie, "must always be the same: I
+wish I could put it in any new light that would please you, dear
+mamma."
+
+"It never can please me, child," cried Mad. de Coulanges, angrily;
+"nor can you please me, either, as you are going on. Fine heroism,
+truly!--you will sacrifice your duty and your mother to your obstinacy
+in an idle fancy. But, remember, the last days of the month are at
+hand--longer I will not listen to such provoking nonsense--it has half
+killed me already."
+
+Neither lap-dog, squirrel, bird-organ, nor Emilie's whole stock of
+French songs, could longer support the vivacity of Mad. de Coulanges;
+for some days she had passed the time in watching and listening to the
+London cries, as she sat at her window: the figures and sounds in this
+busy part of the town were quite new to her; and, whilst the novelty
+lasted, she was, like a child, good-humoured and full of exclamations.
+The want of some one to listen to these exclamations was an
+insupportable evil; she complained terribly of her daughter's silence,
+whilst she was attending to her different employments. This want of
+conversation, and of all the luxuries she enjoyed at the house of Mrs.
+Somers, her anger against that lady, her loss of all hope of hearing
+from France, and her fear that Emilie would at last absolutely refuse
+to obey and marry M. de Brisac, all together operated so powerfully
+upon Mad. de Coulanges, that she really felt sick, and kept her bed.
+Emilie now confined herself to her mother's room, and attended her
+with the most affectionate care, and with a degree of anxiety, which
+those only can comprehend who have believed themselves to be the cause
+of the illness of a friend--of a parent. Mad. de Coulanges would
+sometimes reply, when her daughter asked her if such or such a thing
+had done her good, "No, my child, nothing will do me good but your
+obedience, which you refuse me--perhaps on my deathbed."
+
+Though Emilie did not apprehend that her mother was in any immediate
+danger, yet these continual fits of low spirits and nervous attacks
+excited much alarm. Emilie's reflections on her own helpless situation
+contributed to magnify her fears: she considered that she was a
+stranger, a foreigner, without friends, without credit, almost without
+money, and deprived, by the necessary attendance on her sick mother,
+of all power to earn any by her own exertions. The bodily fatigue
+that she endured, even without any mental anxiety, would have been
+sufficient to wear out the spirits of a more robust person than
+Emilie. She had no human being to assist her but a young girl, a
+servant-maid belonging to the house, who, fortunately, was active and
+good-natured; but her mistress was excessively cross, vulgar, and
+avaricious; avarice, indeed, often seemed to conquer in her the common
+feelings of humanity. Once, whilst Mad. de Coulanges was extremely
+ill, she forced her way into her bedchamber, to insist upon changing
+the counterpane upon the bed, which she said was too good to be
+stained with coffee: another day, when she was angry with Mlle. de
+Coulanges, for having cracked a basin by heating some soup for her
+mother, she declared, in the least ceremonious terms possible, that
+she hated to have any of the French _refugees_ and emigrants in the
+house, for that she was not accustomed to let her lodgings to folk
+that nobody ever came near to visit, and that lived only upon soups
+and salads, and such low stuff; "and who, when they were ill, never so
+much as called in a physician, or even a nurse, but must take up the
+time of people that were not bound to wait upon them."
+
+Mlle. de Coulanges bore all this patiently rather than run the
+hazard of removing to other lodgings whilst her mother was so ill.
+The countess had a prejudice against English physicians, as she
+affirmed that it was impossible that they could understand French
+constitutions, especially hers, which was different from that of any
+other human being, and which, as she said, only one medical man in
+France rightly understood. At last, however, she yielded to the
+persuasions of her daughter, and permitted Emilie to send for a
+physician. When she inquired what he thought of her mother, he said,
+that she was in a nervous fever, and that unless her mind was kept
+free from anxiety he could not answer for her recovery. Mad. de
+Coulanges looked full at her daughter, who was standing at the foot
+of her bed; a mist came before Emilie's eyes, a cold dew covered
+her forehead, and she was forced to hold by the bed-post to support
+herself.
+
+At this instant the door opened, and Lady Littleton appeared. Emilie
+sprang forward, and threw herself into her arms--Mad. de Coulanges
+started up in her bed, exclaiming "Ah Ciel!" and then all were
+silent--except the mistress of the house, who went on making apologies
+about the dirt of her stairs, and its being Friday night. But as she
+at length perceived that not a soul in the room knew a word she was
+saying, she retreated. The physician took leave--and, when they were
+thus left at liberty, Lady Littleton seated herself in the broken
+arm-chair beside the bed, and told Mad. de Coulanges that Mrs. Somers
+had been very unhappy, in consequence of their quarrel; and that she
+had been indefatigable in her inquiries and endeavours to find out the
+place of their retreat; that she had at last given up the search in
+despair. "But," continued Lady Littleton, "it has been my good fortune
+to discover you by means of this flower of Emilie's painting"--(she
+produced a little hand-screen, which Emilie had lately made, and which
+she had sent to be disposed of at the Repository for Ingenious Works).
+"I knew it to be yours, my dear, because it is an exact resemblance
+of one upon your watch of Flora, which was drawn from the flower I
+brought you from Kew Gardens. Now you must not be angry with me for
+finding you out, nor for begging of you to be reconciled to poor Mrs.
+Somers, who has suffered much in your absence--much from the idea of
+what you would endure--and more from her self-reproaches. She has,
+indeed, an unfortunate susceptibility of temper, which makes her
+sometimes forget both politeness and justice: but, as you well know,
+her heart is excellent. Come, you must promise me to meet her at my
+house, as soon as you are able to go out, my dear Mad. de Coulanges."
+
+"I do not know when that will be," replied Mad. de Coulanges, in a
+sick voice: "I was never so ill in my life--and so the physician says.
+But I am revived by seeing Lady Littleton--she is, and ever has been,
+all goodness and politeness to us. I am ashamed that she should see us
+in such a miserable place. Emilie, give me my other night-riband, and
+the wretched little looking-glass."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges sat up and arranged her head-dress. At this moment,
+Lady Littleton took Emilie aside, and put into her hand a letter from
+France!--"I would not speak of it suddenly to your mother, my dear,"
+said she; "but you will find the proper time. I hope it contains good
+news--at present I will have patience. You shall see me again soon;
+and you must, at all events, let me take you from this miserable
+place. Mrs. Somers has been punished enough.--Adieu!--I long to know
+the news from France."
+
+The news from France was such as made the looking-glass drop from the
+hand of Mad. de Coulanges. It was a letter from the son of her old
+steward, to tell her that his father was dead--that he was now in
+possession of all the family fortune, which he was impatient to
+restore to the wife and daughter of his former master and friend.
+
+"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed Mad. de Coulanges, in an ecstasy of
+joy--"Heaven be praised! we shall once more see dear Paris, and the
+Hotel de Coulanges!"
+
+"Heaven be praised!" cried Emilie, "I shall never more see M. de
+Brisac. My mother, I am sure, will no longer wish me to marry him."
+
+"No, in truth," said the countess, "it would now be a most unequal
+match, and one to which he is by no means entitled. How fortunate it
+is that I had not given him my promise!--After all, your aversion to
+him, child, was quite providential. Now you may form the most splendid
+alliance that your heart can desire."
+
+"My heart," said Emilie, sighing, "desires no splendid alliance. But
+had you not better lie down, dear mamma?--You will certainly catch
+cold--and remember, your mind must be kept quiet."
+
+It was impossible to keep her mind quiet; she ran on from one subject
+to another with extravagant volubility; and Emilie was afraid that she
+would, the next day, be quite exhausted; but, on the contrary, after
+talking above half the night, she fell into a sound sleep; and when
+she wakened, after having slept fourteen hours, she declared that she
+would no longer be kept a prisoner in bed. The renovating effects of
+joy and the influence of the imagination were never more strongly
+displayed. "Le malheur passe n'est bon qu'a etre oublie," was la
+comtesse's favourite maxim--and to do her justice, she was as ready to
+forget past quarrels as past misfortunes. She readily complied with
+Emilie's request that she would, as soon as she was able to go out,
+accompany her to Lady Littleton's, that they might meet and be
+reconciled to Mrs. Somers.
+
+"She has the most tormenting temper imaginable," said the countess;
+"and I would not live with her for the universe--Mais d'ailleurs c'est
+la meilleure femme du monde."
+
+If, instead of being the best woman in the world, Mrs. Somers had been
+the worst, and if, instead of being a benefactress, she had been an
+enemy, it would have been all the same thing to the countess; for,
+in this moment, she was, as usual, like a child, a _friend_ to every
+creature of every kind.
+
+Her volubility was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Littleton, who
+came to carry Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie to her house, where, as
+her ladyship said, Mrs. Somers was impatiently waiting for them. Lady
+Littleton had prevented her from coming to this poor lodging-house,
+because she knew that the being seen there would mortify the pride of
+some of the house of Coulanges.
+
+Mrs. Somers was indeed waiting for them with inexpressible impatience.
+The moment she heard their voices in the hall at Lady Littleton's, she
+ran down stairs to meet them; and as she embraced Emilie she could not
+refrain from bursting into tears.
+
+"Tears of joy, these must be," cried Mad. de Coulanges: "we are
+all happy now--perfectly happy--Are not we?--Embrace me, Mrs.
+Somers--Emilie shall not have all your heart--I have some gratitude
+as well as my daughter; and I should have none if I did not love
+you--especially at this moment."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges was, by this time, at the head of the stairs; a
+servant opened the drawing-room door; but something was amiss with the
+strings of her sandals--she would stay to adjust them--and said to
+Emilie, "Allez, allez--entrez."
+
+Emilie obeyed. An instant afterwards Mad. de Coulanges thought she
+heard a sudden cry, either of joy or grief, from Emilie--she hurried
+into the drawing-room.
+
+"Bon Dieu! c'est notre homme de l'Abbaye!" cried she, starting back at
+the sight of a gentleman who had been kneeling at Emilie's feet, and
+who arose as she entered.
+
+"My son!" said Mrs. Somers, eagerly presenting him to Mad. de
+Coulanges--"my son! whom it is in your power to make the happiest or
+the most miserable of men!"
+
+"In my power!--in Emilie's, you mean, I suppose," said the countess,
+smiling. "She is so good a girl that I cannot make her miserable;
+and as for you, Mrs. Somers, the honour of your alliance--and our
+obligations--But then I shall be miserable myself if she does not go
+back with me to the Hotel de Coulanges--Ah! Ciel!--And then poor M.
+de Brisac, he will be miserable, unless, to comfort him, I marry him
+myself."--Half laughing, half crying, Mad. de Coulanges scarcely knew
+what she said or did.
+
+It was some time before she was sufficiently composed to understand
+clearly what was said to her by any person in the room, though she
+asked, half a dozen times, at least, from every one present, an
+explanation of all that had happened.
+
+Lady Littleton was the only person who could give an explanation. She
+had contrived this meeting, and even Mrs. Somers had not foreseen the
+event--she never suspected that her own son was the very person to
+whom Emilie was attached, and that it was for Emilie's sake her son
+had hitherto refused to comply with her earnest desire that he should
+marry and settle in the world. He had no hopes that she would consent
+to his marrying a French girl without fortune, because she formerly
+quarrelled with him for refusing to marry a rich lady of quality, who
+happened to be, at that time, high in her favour. Upon the summons
+home that he received from her, he was alarmed by the apprehension
+that she had some new alliance in view for him, and he resolved,
+before he saw his mother, to trust his secret to Lady Littleton, who
+had always been a mediatrix and peace-maker. He declined telling the
+name of the object of his affections; but, from his description, and
+from many concomitant dates and circumstances, Lady Littleton was led
+to suspect that it might be Emilie de Coulanges. She consequently
+contrived an interview, which she knew must be decisive.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges, whose imagination was now at Paris, felt rather
+disappointed at the idea of her daughter's marrying an Englishman, who
+was neither a count, a marquis, nor even a baron; but Lady Littleton
+at length obtained that consent which she knew would be necessary to
+render Emilie happy, even in following the dictates of her heart, or
+her reason.
+
+Some conversation passed between Lady Littleton and Mrs. Somers about
+a dormant title in the Somers' family, which might be revived. This
+made a wonderful impression on the countess. She yielded, as she did
+every thing else, with a good grace.
+
+History does not say, whether she did or did not console M. de Brisac:
+we are only informed that, immediately after her daughter's marriage,
+she returned to Paris, and gave a splendid ball at her Hotel de
+Coulanges. We are further assured that Mrs. Somers never quarrelled
+with Emilie from the day of her marriage till the day of her
+death--but that is incredible.
+
+1803.
+
+
+
+
+THE MODERN GRISELDA.
+
+A TALE.
+
+
+  "And since in man right reason bears the sway,
+  Let that frail thing, weak woman, have her way."
+
+POPE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+  "Blest as th'immortal gods is he,
+  The youth who fondly sits by thee,
+  Who sees and hears thee all the while,
+  Softly speak and sweetly smile."
+
+
+"Is not this ode set to music, my dear Griselda?" said the happy
+bridegroom to his bride.
+
+"Yes, surely, my dear: did you never hear it?"
+
+"Never; and I am glad of it, for I shall have the pleasure of hearing
+it for the first time from you, my love: will you be so kind as to
+play it for me?"
+
+"Most willingly," said Griselda, with an enchanting smile; "but I am
+afraid that I shall not be able to do it justice," added she, as she
+sat down to her harp, and threw her white arm across the chords.
+
+"Charming! Thank you, my love," said the bridegroom, who had listened
+with enthusiastic devotion.--"Will you let me hear it once more?"
+
+The complaisant bride repeated the strain.
+
+"Thank you, my dear love," repeated her husband. This time he omitted
+the word "_charming_"--she missed it, and, pouting prettily, said,
+
+"I never can play any thing so well the second time as the
+first."--She paused: but as no compliment ensued, she continued, in a
+more pettish tone, "And for that reason, I do hate to be made to play
+any thing twice over."
+
+"I did not know that, my dearest love, or I would not have asked you
+to do it; but I am the more obliged to you for your ready compliance."
+
+"Obliged!--Oh, my dear, I am sure you could not be the least obliged
+to me, for I know I played it horridly: I hate flattery."
+
+"I am convinced of that, my dear, and therefore I never flatter: you
+know I did not say that you played as well the last time as the first,
+did I?"
+
+"No, I did not say you did," cried Griselda, and her colour rose as
+she spoke: she tuned her harp with some precipitation--"This harp is
+terribly out of tune."
+
+"Is it? I did not perceive it."
+
+"Did not you, indeed? I am sorry for that."
+
+"Why so, my dear?"
+
+"Because, my dear, I own that I would rather have had the blame thrown
+on my harp than upon myself."
+
+"Blame? my love!--But I threw no blame either on you or your harp. I
+cannot recollect saying even a syllable that implied blame."
+
+"No, my dear, you did not say a syllable; but in some cases the
+silence of those we love is the worst, the most mortifying species of
+blame."
+
+The tears came into Griselda's beautiful eyes.
+
+"My sweet love," said he, "how can you let such a trifle affect you so
+much?"
+
+"Nothing is a trifle to me which concerns those I love," said
+Griselda.--Her husband kissed away the pearly drops which rolled over
+her vermeil-tinctured cheeks. "My love," said he, "this is having too
+much sensibility."
+
+"Yes, I own I have too much sensibility," said she, "too much--a great
+deal too much, for my own happiness.--Nothing ever can be a trifle to
+me which marks the decline of the affection of those who are most dear
+to me."
+
+The tenderest protestations of undiminished and unalterable affection
+could not for some time reassure this timid sensibility: but at length
+the lady suffered herself to be comforted, and with a languid smile
+said, that she hoped she was mistaken--that her fears were perhaps
+unreasonable--that she prayed to Heaven they might in future prove
+groundless.
+
+A few weeks afterwards her husband unexpectedly met with Mr. Granby,
+a friend, of whose company he was particularly fond: he invited him
+home to dinner, and was talking over past times in all the gaiety
+and innocence of his heart, when suddenly his wife rose and left the
+room.--As her absence appeared to him long, and as he had begged his
+friend to postpone _an excellent story_ till her return, he went to
+her apartment and called "Griselda!--Griselda, my love!"--No Griselda
+answered.--He searched for her in vain in every room in the house:
+at last, in an alcove in the garden, he found the fair dissolved in
+tears.
+
+"Good Heavens! my dear Griselda, what can be the matter?"
+
+A melancholy, not to say sullen, silence was maintained by his dear
+Griselda, till this question had been reiterated in all the possible
+tones of fond solicitude and alarm: at last, in broken sentences, she
+replied that she saw he did not love her--never had loved her; that
+she had now but too much reason to be convinced that all her fears
+were real, not imaginary; that her presentiments, alas! never deceived
+her; that she was the most miserable woman on earth.
+
+Her husband's unfeigned astonishment she seemed to consider as an
+aggravation of her woes, and it was an additional insult to plead
+ignorance of his offence.
+
+If he did not understand her feelings, it was impossible, it was
+needless, to explain them. He must have lost all sympathy with her,
+all tenderness for her, if he did not know what had passed in her
+mind.
+
+The man stood in stupid innocence. Provoked to speak more plainly, the
+lady exclaimed, "Unfeeling, cruel, barbarous man!--Have not you this
+whole day been trying your utmost skill to torment me to death? and,
+proud of your success, now you come to enjoy your triumph."
+
+"Success!--triumph!"
+
+"Yes, triumph!--I see it in your eyes--it is in vain to deny it. All
+this I owe to your friend Mr. Granby. Why he should be my enemy!--I
+who never injured him, or any body living, in thought, word, or
+deed--why he should be my enemy!"--
+
+"Enemy!--My love, this is the strangest fancy! Why should you imagine
+that he is your enemy?"
+
+"He _is_ my enemy--nobody shall ever convince me of the contrary;
+he has wounded me in the tenderest point, and in the basest manner:
+has not he done his utmost, in the most artful, insidious way,--even
+before my face,--to persuade you that you were a thousand times
+happier when you were a bachelor than you are now--than you ever have
+been since you married me?"
+
+"Oh, my dear Griselda, you totally misunderstand him: such a thought
+never entered his mind."
+
+"Pardon me, I know him better than you do."
+
+"But I have known him ever since I was a child."
+
+"That is the very reason you cannot judge of him as well as I can: how
+could you judge of character when you were a child?"
+
+"But now that I am a man--"
+
+"Now that you are a man you are prejudiced in his favour by all the
+associations of your childhood--all those associations," continued the
+fair one, renewing her tears, "all those early associations, which are
+stronger than every other species of affection--all those associations
+which I never _can_ have in your mind, which ever must act against me,
+and which no merit--if I had any merit--no tenderness, no fidelity, no
+fondness of mine, can ever hope to balance in the heart of the man I
+love."
+
+"My dearest Griselda! be reasonable, and do not torment yourself and
+me for no earthly purpose about these associations: really it is
+ridiculous. Come, dry these useless tears, let me beseech you, my
+love. You do not know how much pain they give me, unreasonable as they
+are."
+
+At these words they flowed more bitterly.
+
+"Nay, my love, I conjure you to compose yourself, and return to the
+company: you do not know how long you have been away, and I too. We
+shall be missed; we shall make ourselves ridiculous."
+
+"If it be ridiculous to love, I shall be ridiculous all my life. I am
+sorry you think me so; I knew it would come to this; I must bear it if
+I can," said Griselda; "only be so kind to excuse me from returning
+to the company to-night--indeed I am not fit, I am not able: say that
+I am not well; indeed, my love, you may say so with truth.--Tell
+your friend that I have a terrible head-ache, and that I am gone
+to bed--but not to rest," added she, in a lower and more plaintive
+tone, as she drew her hand from her husband's, and in spite of all
+his entreaties retired to her room with an air of heart-broken
+resignation.
+
+Whoever has had the felicity to be beloved by such a wife as our
+Griselda, must have felt how much the charms of beauty are heightened
+by the anguish of sensibility. Even in the moment when a husband is
+most tormented by her caprices, he feels that there is something so
+amiable, so flattering to his vanity in their source, that he cannot
+complain of the killing pleasure. On the contrary, he grows fonder of
+his dear tormentor; he folds closer to him this pleasing bosom ill.
+
+Griselda perceived the effects, and felt the whole extent of the power
+of sensibility; she had too much prudence, however, at once to wear
+out the excitability of a husband's heart; she knew that the influence
+of tears, potent as it is, might in time cease to be irresistible,
+unless aided by the magic of smiles; she knew the power of contrast
+even in charms; she believed the poets, who certainly understand these
+things, and who assure us that the very existence of love depends on
+this blest vicissitude. Convinced, or seemingly convinced, of the
+folly of that fond melancholy in which she persisted for a week, she
+next appeared all radiant with joy; and she had reason to be delighted
+by the effect which this produced. Her husband, who had not yet been
+long enough her husband to cease to be her lover, had suffered much
+from the obstinacy of her sorrow; his spirits had sunk, he had become
+silent, he had been even seen to stand motionless with his arms
+folded; he was in this attitude when she approached and smiled upon
+him in all her glory. He breathed, he lived, he moved, he spoke.--Not
+the influence of the sun on the statue of Memnon was ever more
+exhilarating.
+
+Let any candid female say, or, if she will not say, imagine, what she
+should have felt at that moment in Griselda's place.--How intoxicating
+to human vanity, to be possessed of such powers of enchantment!--How
+difficult to refrain from their exercise!--How impossible to believe
+in their finite duration!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+  "_Some_ hope a lover by their faults to win,
+  As spots on ermine beautify the skin."
+
+
+When Griselda thought that her husband had long enough enjoyed his new
+existence, and that there was danger of his forgetting the taste of
+sorrow, she changed her tone.--One day, when he had not returned home
+exactly at the appointed minute, she received him with a frown,--such
+as would have made even Mars himself recoil, if Mars could have beheld
+such a frown upon the brow of his Venus.
+
+"Dinner has been kept waiting for you this hour, my dear."
+
+"I am very sorry for it; but why did you wait, my dear? I am really
+very sorry I am so late, but (looking at his watch) it is only half
+past six by me."
+
+"It is seven by me."
+
+They presented their watches to each other; he, in an apologetical,
+she, in a reproachful attitude.
+
+"I rather think you are too fast, my dear," said the gentleman.
+
+"I am very sure you are too slow, my dear," said the lady.
+
+"My watch never loses a minute in the four-and-twenty hours," said he.
+
+"Nor mine a second," said she.
+
+"I have reason to believe I am right, my love," said the husband,
+mildly.
+
+"Reason!" exclaimed the wife, astonished; "what reason can you
+possibly have to believe you are right, when I tell you I am morally
+certain you are wrong, my love?"
+
+"My only reason is, that I set my watch by the sun to-day."
+
+"The sun must be wrong, then," cried the lady, hastily.--"You need not
+laugh; for I know what I am saying--the variation, the declination,
+must be allowed for in computing it with the clock. Now you know
+perfectly well what I mean, though you will not explain it for me,
+because you are conscious I am in the right."
+
+"Well, my dear, if _you_ are conscious of it, that is sufficient. We
+will not dispute any more about such a trifle.--Are they bringing up
+dinner?"
+
+"If they know that you are come in; but I am sure I cannot tell
+whether they do or not.--Pray, my dear Mrs. Nettleby," cried the
+lady, turning to a female friend, and still holding her watch in her
+hand, "what o'clock is it by you? There is nobody in the world hates
+disputing about trifles as much as I do; but I own I do love to
+convince people that I am in the right."
+
+Mrs. Nettleby's watch had stopped. How provoking!--Vexed at having no
+immediate means of convincing people that she was in the right, our
+heroine consoled herself by proceeding to criminate her husband, not
+in this particular instance, where he pleaded guilty, but upon the
+general charge of being always late for dinner, which he strenuously
+denied.
+
+There is something in the species of reproach, which advances thus
+triumphantly from particulars to generals, peculiarly offensive to
+every reasonable and susceptible mind: and there is something in the
+general charge of being always late for dinner, which the punctuality
+of man's nature cannot easily endure, especially if he be hungry.
+We should humbly advise our female friends to forbear exposing a
+husband's patience to this trial, or at least to temper it with much
+fondness, else mischief will infallibly ensue. For the first time
+Griselda saw her husband angry; but she recovered him by saying, in
+a softened tone, "My love, you must be sensible that I can have but
+one reason for being so impatient for your return home.--If I liked
+your company less, I should not complain so much of your want of
+punctuality."
+
+Finding that this speech had the desired effect, it was afterwards
+repeated with variations whenever her husband stayed from home to
+enjoy any species of amusement, or to gratify any of his friends.
+When he betrayed symptoms of impatience under this constraint, the
+expostulations became more urgent, if not more forcible.
+
+"Indeed, my dear, I take it rather unkindly of you that you pay so
+little attention to my feelings--"
+
+"I see I am of no consequence to you _now_; I find every body's
+society is preferred to mine: it was not always so.--Well! it is what
+I might have expected--"
+
+"Heigho!--Heigho!--"
+
+Griselda's sighs were still persuasive, and her husband,
+notwithstanding that he felt the restraints which daily multiplied
+upon his time and upon his personal liberty becoming irksome, had not
+the barbarity to give pain to the woman by whom he was so tenderly
+beloved. He did not consider that in this case, as well as in many
+others, apparent mercy is real cruelty. The more this monopolizing
+humour of his wife's was indulged, the more insatiable it became.
+Every person, every thing but herself, was to be excluded from his
+heart; and when this sole patent for pleasure was granted to her, she
+became rather careless in its exercise, as those are apt to be who
+fear no competitors. In proportion as her endeavours to please abated,
+her expectations of being adored increased: the slightest word of
+blame, the most remote hint that any thing in her conduct, manners, or
+even dress, could be altered for the better, was the signal for battle
+or for tears.
+
+One night she wept for an hour, and debated for two, about an
+alteration in her head-dress, which her husband unluckily happened to
+say made it more becoming. _More becoming_! implied that it was before
+unbecoming. She recollected the time when every thing she wore was
+becoming in his eyes--but that time, alas! was completely past; and
+she only wished that she could forget that it had ever been.
+
+"To have been happy is additional misery."
+
+This misery may appear comic to some people, but it certainly was
+not so to our heroine's unfortunate husband. It was in vain that, in
+mitigation of his offence, he pleaded total want of knowledge in the
+arcana of the toilette, absolute inferiority of taste, and a willing
+submission to the decrees of fashion.
+
+This submission was called indifference--this calmness construed into
+contempt. He stood convicted of having said that the lady's dress was
+unbecoming--she was certain that he thought more than he said, and
+that every thing about her was grown disagreeable to him.
+
+It was in vain he represented that his affection had not been created,
+and could not be annihilated, by such trifles; that it rested on the
+solid basis of esteem.
+
+"Esteem!" cried his wife--"that is the unkindest stroke of all! When a
+man begins to talk of esteem, there is an end of love."
+
+To illustrate this position, the fair one, as well as the disorder of
+her mind would permit, entered into a refined disquisition, full of
+all the metaphysics of gallantry, which proved that love--genuine
+love--is an aethereal essence, a union of souls, regulated by none of
+those formal principles, and founded upon none of those vulgar moral
+qualities on which friendship, and the other connexions of society,
+depend. Far, far above the jurisdiction of reason, true love creates
+perfect sympathy in taste, and an absolute identity of opinion upon
+all subjects, physical, metaphysical, moral, political, and economic.
+After having thus established her theory, her practice was wonderfully
+consistent, and she reasonably expected from her husband the most
+exact conformity to her principles--of course, his five senses and
+his understanding were to be identified with hers. If he saw, heard,
+felt, or understood differently from her, he did not, could not, love
+her. Once she was offended by his liking white better than black; at
+another time she was angry with him for loving the taste of mushrooms.
+One winter she quarrelled with him for not admiring the touch of
+satin, and one summer she was jealous of him for listening to the song
+of a blackbird. Then because he could not prefer to all other odours
+the smell of jessamine, she was ready "to die of a rose in aromatic
+pain." The domain of taste, in the more enlarged sense of the
+word, became a glorious field of battle, and afforded subjects of
+inextinguishable war. Our heroine was accomplished, and knew how to
+make all her accomplishments and her knowledge of use. As she was
+mistress not only of the pencil, but of all "the cant of criticism,"
+had infinite advantages in the wordy war. From the _beau ideal_ to
+the choice of a snuffer-dish, all came within her province, and was
+to be submitted, without appeal, to her instinctive sense of moral
+order.--Happy fruits of knowledge!--Happy those who can thus enlarge
+their intellectual dominion, and can vary eternally the dear delight
+of giving pain. The range of opinion was still more ample than the
+province of taste, affording scope for all the joys of assertion
+and declamation--for the opposing of learned and unlearned
+authorities--for the quoting the opinions of friends--counting voices
+instead of arguments--wondering at the absurdity of those who can be
+of a different way of thinking--appealing to the judgment of the whole
+world--or resting perfectly satisfied with her own. Sometimes the most
+important, sometimes the most trivial, and seemingly uninteresting
+subjects, gave exercise to Griselda's powers; and in all cases being
+entirely of her opinion was the only satisfactory proof of love.
+
+Our heroine knew how, with able generalship, to take advantage of
+time and situation.--Just before the birth of their child, which,
+by-the-bye, was born dead, a dispute arose between the husband
+and wife concerning public and private education, which, from its
+vehemence, alarmed the gentleman into a perfect conviction that he was
+in the wrong. Scarcely had Griselda gained this point, when a question
+arose at the tea-table respecting the Chinese method of making tea. It
+was doubted by some of the company whether it was made in a tea-pot or
+a tea-cup. Griselda gave her opinion loudly for the tea-pot--her lord
+and master inclined to the tea-cup; and as neither of them had been
+in China, they could debate without fear of coming to a conclusion.
+The subject seemed at first insignificant; but the lady's method of
+managing it supplied all deficiencies, and roused all the passions
+of human nature on the one side or the other. Victory hung doubtful;
+but our heroine won the day by taking time into the account.--Her
+adversary was in a hurry to go to meet some person on business, and
+quitted the field of battle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+  "Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
+  Strong sovereign Will, and some desire to chide."
+
+
+"There are," says Dr. Johnson, "a thousand familiar disputes which
+reason can never decide; questions that elude investigation, and make
+logic ridiculous--cases where something must be done, and where
+little can be said.--Wretched would be the pair above all names of
+wretchedness who should be doomed to adjust by reason every morning
+all the detail of a domestic day."
+
+Our heroine made a double advantage of this passage: for she regularly
+reasoned where logic was ridiculous, and could not be prevailed upon
+to listen to reason when it might have been useful.--She substituted
+her _will_ most frequently for arguments, and often opposed it to her
+husband's, in order to give him the merit of sacrificing his wishes.
+When he wanted to read, she suddenly wished to walk; when he wished
+to walk, she was immersed in her studies. When he was busy, she was
+talkative; when he was eager to hear her converse, she was inclined
+to be silent. The company that he liked, she disliked; the public
+amusements that she most frequented were those of which he least
+approved. This species of wilfulness was the strongest proof of her
+solicitude about his good opinion.--She could not bear, she said, that
+he should consider her as a child, who was not able to govern herself.
+She could not believe that a man had confidence in her unless he
+proved it by leaving her at liberty to decide and act for herself.
+
+Sometimes she receded, sometimes she advanced in her claims; but
+without marking the daily ebbs and flows of her humour, it is
+sufficient to observe, that it continually encroached upon her
+husband's indulgence. She soon insisted upon being _consulted_, that
+is, obeyed, in affairs which did not immediately come under the
+cognizance of her sex--politics inclusive. This apparently exorbitant
+love of power was veiled under the most affectionate humility.
+
+"Oh, my love! I know you despise my abilities; you think these things
+above the comprehension of poor women. I know I am but your plaything
+after all: you cannot consider me for a moment as your equal or your
+friend--I see that!--You talk of these things to your friend Mr.
+Granby--I am not worthy to hear them.--Well, I am sure I have no
+ambition, except to possess the confidence of the man I love."
+
+The lady forgot that she had, upon a former occasion, considered
+a profession of esteem from her husband as an insult, and that,
+according to her definition of true love, esteem was incompatible with
+its existence.
+
+Tacitus remarks, that it is common with princes to will
+contradictories; in this characteristic they have the honour to
+resemble some of the fair sex, as well as all spoiled children. Having
+every feasible wish gratified, they are obliged to wish for what
+is impossible, for want of something to desire or to do: they are
+compelled to cry for the moon, or for new worlds to conquer.--Our
+heroine having now attained the summit of human glory and happiness,
+and feeling almost as much ennui as was expressed by the conqueror
+of the world, yawned one morning, as she sat tete-a-tete with her
+husband, and said--
+
+"I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning.--Why do you
+keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear?"
+
+"Here it is for you, my dear: I have finished it."
+
+"I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it--I
+hate stale news.--Is there any thing in the paper? for I cannot be at
+the trouble of hunting it."
+
+"Yes, my dear, there are the marriages of two of our friends--"
+
+"Who? Who?"
+
+"Your friend the Widow Nettleby, to her cousin John Nettleby."
+
+"Mrs. Nettleby! Lord! but why did you tell me?"
+
+"Because you asked me, my dear."
+
+"Oh! but it is a hundred times pleasanter to read the paragraph one's
+self: one loses all the pleasure of the surprise by being told.--Well!
+whose was the other marriage?"
+
+"Oh! my dear, I will not tell you--I will leave you the pleasure of
+the surprise."
+
+"But you see I cannot guess it.--How provoking you are, my dear! Do
+pray tell it me."
+
+"Our friend Mr. Granby."
+
+"Mr. Granby!--Dear! Why did not you make me guess? I should have
+guessed him directly: but why do you call him our friend? I am sure he
+is no friend of mine, nor ever was; I took an aversion to him, as you
+may remember, the very first day I saw him: I am sure he is no friend
+of mine."
+
+"I am sorry for it, my dear; but I hope you will go and see Mrs.
+Granby?"
+
+"Not I, indeed, my dear.--Who was she?"
+
+"Miss Cooke."
+
+"Cooke!--but there are so many Cookes.--Can't you distinguish her any
+way?--Has she no Christian name?"
+
+"Emma, I think--yes, Emma."
+
+"Emma Cooke!--No; it cannot be my friend Emma Cooke--for I am sure she
+was cut out for an old maid."
+
+"This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good wife."
+
+"May be so--I am sure I'll never go to see her--Pray, my dear, how
+came you to see so much of her?"
+
+"I have seen very little of her, my dear: I only saw her two or three
+times before she was married."
+
+"Then, my dear, how could you decide that she is cut out for a good
+wife?--I am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only two or
+three times, and before she was married."
+
+"Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation."
+
+"I understand that compliment perfectly, and thank you for it, my
+dear.--I must own I can bear any thing better than irony."
+
+"Irony! my dear; I was perfectly in earnest."
+
+"Yes, yes; in earnest--so I perceive--I may naturally be dull of
+apprehension, but my feelings are quick enough: I comprehend you too
+well. Yes--it is impossible to judge of a woman before marriage, or
+to guess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from
+experience; you have been disappointed yourself, and repent your
+choice."
+
+"My dear, what did I say that was like this? Upon my word I meant no
+such thing; I really was not thinking of you in the least."
+
+"No--you never think of me now: I can easily believe that you were not
+thinking of me in the least."
+
+"But I said that only to prove to you that I could not be thinking ill
+of you, my dear."
+
+"But I would rather that you thought ill of me than that you did not
+think of me at all."
+
+"Well, my dear," said her husband, laughing, "I will even think ill of
+you, if that will please you."
+
+"Do you laugh at me?" cried she, bursting into tears. "When it comes
+to this, I am wretched indeed! Never man laughed at the woman he
+loved! As long as you had the slightest remains of love for me,
+you could not make me an object of derision: ridicule and love are
+incompatible, absolutely incompatible. Well, I have done my best, my
+very best, to make you happy, but in vain. I see I am not _cut out_ to
+be a good wife. Happy, happy Mrs. Granby!"
+
+"Happy I hope sincerely that she will be with my friend; but my
+happiness must depend on you, my love; so, for my sake, if not for
+your own, be composed, and do not torment yourself with such fancies."
+
+"I do wonder," cried our heroine, starting from her seat, "whether
+this Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I'll go and see her
+directly; see her I must."
+
+"I am heartily glad of it, my dear; for I am sure a visit to his wife
+will give my friend Granby real pleasure."
+
+"I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give him pleasure, or you
+either; but to satisfy my own--_curiosity_."
+
+The rudeness of this speech would have been intolerable to her husband
+if it had not been for a certain hesitation in the emphasis with which
+she pronounced the word curiosity, which left him in doubt as to her
+real motive.
+
+Jealousy is sometimes thought to be a proof of love; and, in
+this point of view, must not all its caprices, absurdities, and
+extravagances, be graceful, amiable, and gratifying?
+
+A few days after Griselda had satisfied her curiosity, she thus, in
+the presence of her husband, began to vent her spleen:
+
+"For Heaven's sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby," cried she, addressing herself
+to the new-married widow, who came to return her wedding visit--"for
+pity's sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby, can you or any body else tell me what
+possessed Mr. Granby to marry Emma Cooke?"
+
+"I am sure I cannot tell, for I have not seen her yet."
+
+"You will be less able to tell after you have seen her, and still less
+after you have heard her."
+
+"What, then, she is neither a wit nor a beauty! I'm quite surprised at
+that; for I thought, to be sure, Mr. Granby, who is such a judge and
+such a critic, and so nice about female manners, would not have been
+content without something very extraordinary."
+
+"Nothing can be more ordinary."
+
+"Astonishing! but I am quite tired of being astonished at marriages!
+One sees such strange matches every day, I am resolved never to be
+surprised at any thing: who _can_, that lives in the world? But really
+now I am surprised at Mr. Granby. What! is she nothing?"
+
+"Nothing--absolutely nothing; a cipher; a nonentity."
+
+"Now really? you do not tell me so," said Mrs. Nettleby. "Well, I am
+so disappointed; for I always resolved to take example by Mr. Granby's
+wife."
+
+"I would rather that she should take warning by me," said Griselda,
+laughing. "But to be candid, I must tell you that to some people's
+taste she is a pattern wife--a perfect Grizzle. She and I should have
+changed names--or characters. Which, my dear?" cried she, appealing to
+her husband.
+
+"Not names, my dear," answered he.
+
+The conversation might here have ended happily, but unluckily our
+heroine could not be easily satisfied before Mrs. Nettleby, to whom
+she was proud of showing her conjugal ascendancy.
+
+"My dear," said she to her husband, "a-propos to pattern wives: you
+have read Chaucer's Tales. Do you seriously like or dislike the real,
+original, old Griselda?"
+
+"It is so long since I have seen her that I cannot tell," replied he.
+
+"Then, my dear, you must read the story over again, and tell me
+without evasion."
+
+"And if he could read it before Mrs. Granby and me, what a compliment
+that would be to one bride," added the malicious Mrs. Nettleby, "and
+what a lesson for another!"
+
+"Oh, it must be so! it must be so!" cried Griselda. "I will ask her
+here on purpose to a reading party; and you, my dear Mrs. Nettleby,
+will come for your lesson. You, my love, who read so well--and who,
+I am sure, will be delighted to pay a compliment to your favourite,
+Mrs. Granby--you will read, and I will--weep. On what day shall it be?
+Let me see: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday,
+Sunday, I'm engaged: but Sunday is only a party at home; I can put
+that off:--then Sunday let it be."
+
+"Sunday, I am unluckily engaged, my dear," said her husband.
+
+"Engaged? Oh, nonsense! You have no engagements of any consequence:
+and when I put off _my_ party on purpose to have the pleasure of
+hearing you read, oblige me, my love, for once."
+
+"My love, to oblige you, I will do any thing."
+
+Griselda cast a triumphant glance at Mrs. Nettleby, which said as
+plainly as a look could say, "You see how I rule him!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+  "Feels every vanity in fondness lost,
+  And asks no power but that of pleasing most."
+
+
+On Sunday evening a large company assembled at our heroine's summons.
+They were all seated in due form: the reader with his book open, and
+waiting for the arrival of the bride, for whom a conspicuous place was
+destined, where the spectators, and especially Mrs. Nettleby and our
+Griselda, could enjoy a full view of her countenance.
+
+"Lord bless me! it is getting late: I am afraid--I am really afraid
+Mrs. Granby will not come."
+
+The ladies had time to discuss who and what she was: as she had lived
+in the country, few of them had seen, or could tell any thing about
+her; but our heroine circulated her opinion in whispers, and every
+one was prepared to laugh at _the pattern wife, the original Griselda
+revived_, as Mrs. Nettleby sarcastically called her.
+
+Mrs. Granby was announced. The buzz was hushed and the titter
+suppressed; affected gravity appeared in every countenance, and
+all eyes turned with malicious curiosity upon the bride as she
+entered.--The timidity of Emma's first appearance was so free both
+from awkwardness and affectation, that it interested at least every
+gentleman present in her favour. Surrounded by strangers, but quite
+unsuspicious that they were prepared to consider her as an object of
+ridicule or satire, she won her way to the lady of the house, to whom
+she addressed herself as to a friend.
+
+"Is not she quite a different person from what you had expected?"
+whispered one of the ladies to her neighbour, as Emma passed. Her
+manner seemed to solicit indulgence rather than to provoke envy. She
+was very sorry to find that the company had been waiting for her; she
+had been detained by the sudden illness of Mr. Granby's mother.
+
+Whilst Emma was making this apology, some of the audience observed
+that she had a remarkably sweet voice; others discovered that there
+was something extremely feminine in her person. A gentleman, who saw
+that she was distressed at the idea of being seated in the conspicuous
+place to which she was destined by the lady of the house, got up, and
+offered his seat, which she most thankfully accepted.
+
+"Oh, my dear Mrs. Granby, I cannot possibly allow you to sit there,"
+cried the lady of the house. "You must have the honours of the day,"
+added she, seizing Emma's hand to conduct her to the _place of
+honour_.
+
+"Pray excuse me," said Mrs. Granby, "honours are so little suited to
+me: I am perfectly well here."
+
+"But with that window _at your back_, my dear madam!" said Mrs.
+Nettleby.
+
+"I do not feel the slightest breath of air. But perhaps I crowd these
+ladies."
+
+"Not in the least, not in the least," said the ladies, who were on
+each side of her: they were won by the irresistible gentleness of
+Emma's manner. Our heroine was vexed to be obliged to give up her
+point; and relinquishing Mrs. Granby's hand, returned to her own seat,
+and said in a harsh tone to her husband,
+
+"Well! my dear, if we are to have any reading to-night, you had better
+begin."
+
+The reading began; and Emma was so completely absorbed, that she did
+not perceive that most of the audience were intent upon her. Those who
+act any part may be ridiculous in the playing it, but those are safe
+from the utmost malignity of criticism who are perfectly unconscious
+that they have any part to perform. Emma had been abashed at her first
+appearance in an assembly of strangers, and concerned by the idea that
+she had kept them waiting; but as soon as this embarrassment passed
+over, her manners resumed their natural ease--a degree of ease which
+surprised her judges, and which arose from the persuasion that she
+was not of sufficient consequence to attract attention. Our heroine
+was provoked by the sight of this insolent tranquillity, and was
+determined that it should not long continue. The reader came to the
+promise which Gualtherus exacts from his bride:--
+
+  "Swear that with ready will, and honest heart,
+  Like or dislike, without regret or art,
+  In presence or alone, by night or day,
+  All that I will, you fail not to obey;
+  All I intend to forward, that you seek,
+  Nor ever once object to what I speak.
+  Nor yet in part alone my wish fulfil;
+  Nor though you do it, do it with ill-will;
+  Nor with a forced compliance half refuse;
+  And acting duty, all the merit lose.
+  To strict obedience add a willing grace,
+  And let your soul be painted in your face;
+  No reasons given, and no pretences sought,
+  To swerve in deed or word, in look or thought."
+
+"Well, ladies!" cried the modern Griselda, "what do you think of
+this?"
+
+Shrill exclamations of various vehemence expressed with one accord the
+sentiments, or rather feelings, of almost all the married ladies who
+were present.
+
+"Abominable! Intolerable! Insufferable! Horrible! I would rather have
+seen the man perish at my feet; I would rather have died: I would have
+remained unmarried all my life rather than have submitted to such
+terms."
+
+A few young unmarried ladies who had not spoken, or who had not
+been heard to speak in the din of tongues, were appealed to by the
+gentlemen next them. They could not be prevailed upon to pronounce any
+distinct opinion: they qualified, and hesitated, and softened, and
+equivocated, and "were not positively able to judge, for really they
+had never thought upon the subject."
+
+Upon the whole, however, it was evident that they did not betray that
+natural horror which pervaded the more experienced matrons. All agreed
+that the terms were "hard terms," and ill expressed: some added, that
+only love could persuade a woman to submit to them: and some still
+more sentimental maidens, in a lower voice, were understood to say,
+that as nothing is impossible to Cupid, they might be induced to
+such submission; but that it must be by a degree of love which they
+solemnly declared they had never felt or could imagine as yet.
+
+"For my part," cried the modern Griselda, "I would sooner have lived
+an old maid to the days of Methusalem than have been so mean as to
+have married any man on earth upon such terms. But I know there are
+people who can never think 'marriage dear-bought.' My dear Mrs.
+Granby, we have not yet heard your opinion, and we should have had
+yours first, as bride."
+
+"I forgot that I was bride," said Emma.
+
+"Forgot! Is it possible?" cried Mrs. Nettleby: "now this is an excess
+of modesty of which I have no notion."
+
+"But for which Mr. Granby," continued our heroine, turning to Mr.
+Granby, who at this moment entered the room, "ought to make his best
+bow. Here is your lady, sir, who has just assured us that she forgot
+she was a bride: bow to this exquisite humility."
+
+"Exquisite vanity!" cried Mr. Granby; "she knows
+
+  "'How much the wife is dearer than the bride.'"
+
+"She will be a singularly happy woman if she knows _that_ this time
+twelvemonth," replied our heroine, darting a reproachful look at her
+silent husband. "In the mean time, do let us hear Mrs. Granby speak
+for herself; I must have her opinion of Griselda's promise to obey her
+lord, right or wrong, in all things, no reasons given, to submit in
+deed, and word, and look, and thought. If Mrs. Granby tells us that is
+her theory, we must all reform our practice."
+
+Every eye was fixed upon Emma, and every ear was impatient for her
+answer.
+
+"I should never have imagined," said she, smiling, "that any person's
+practice could be influenced by my theory, especially as I have no
+theory."
+
+"No more humility, my dear; if you have no theory, you have an opinion
+of your own, I hope, and we must have a distinct answer to this simple
+question: Would you have made the promise that was required from
+Griselda?"
+
+"No," answered Emma; "distinctly no; for I could never have loved or
+esteemed the man who required such a promise."
+
+Disconcerted by this answer, which was the very reverse of what she
+expected; amazed at the modest self-possession with which the timid
+Emma spoke, and vexed by the symptoms of approbation which Emma's
+words and voice excited, our heroine called upon her husband, in a
+more than usually authoritative tone, and bid him--read on.
+
+He obeyed. Emma became again absorbed in the story, and her
+countenance showed how much she felt all its beauties, and all its
+pathos. Emma did all she could to repress her feelings; and our
+heroine all she could to make her and them ridiculous. But in this
+attempt she was unsuccessful; for many of the spectators, who at her
+instigation began by watching Emma's countenance to find subject for
+ridicule, ended by sympathizing with her unaffected sensibility.
+
+When the tale was ended, the modern Griselda, who was determined
+to oppose as strongly as possible the charms of spirit to those of
+sensibility, burst furiously forth into an invective against the
+meanness of her namesake, and the tyranny of the odious Gualtherus.
+
+"_Could_ you have forgiven him, Mrs. Granby? could you have forgiven
+the monster?"
+
+"He repented," said Emma; "and does not a penitent cease to be a
+monster?"
+
+"Oh, I never, never would have forgiven him, penitent or not penitent;
+I would not have forgiven him such sins."
+
+"I would not have put it into his power to commit them," said Emma.
+
+"I confess the story never touched me in the least," cried our
+heroine.
+
+"Perhaps for the same reason that Petrarch's friend said that he read
+it unmoved," replied Mrs. Granby: "because he could not believe that
+such a woman as Griselda ever existed."
+
+"No, no, not for that reason: I believe many such poor, meek,
+mean-spirited creatures exist."
+
+Emma was at length wakened to the perception of her friend's envy and
+jealousy; but--
+
+  "She mild forgave the failing of her sex."
+
+"I cannot admire the original Griselda, or any of her imitators,"
+continued our heroine.
+
+"There is no great danger of her finding imitators in these days,"
+said Mr. Granby. "Had Chaucer lived in our enlightened times, he would
+doubtless have drawn a very different character."
+
+The modern Griselda looked "fierce as ten furies." Emma softened her
+husband's observation by adding, "that allowance should certainly be
+made for poor Chaucer, if we consider the times in which he wrote.
+The situation and understandings of women have been so much improved
+since his days. Women were then slaves, now they are free. My dear,"
+whispered she to her husband, "your mother is not well; shall we go
+home?"
+
+Emma left the room; and even Mrs. Nettleby, after she was gone, said,
+"Really she is not ugly when she blushes."
+
+"No woman is ugly when she blushes," replied our heroine; "but,
+unluckily, a woman cannot _always_ blush."
+
+Finding that her attempt to make Emma ridiculous had failed, and that
+it had really placed Mrs. Granby's understanding, manners, and temper
+in a most advantageous and amiable light, Griselda was mortified
+beyond measure. She could scarcely bear to hear Emma's name mentioned.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+  "She that can please, is certain to persuade,
+  To-day is lov'd, to-morrow is obey'd."
+
+
+A few days after the reading party, Griselda was invited to spend an
+evening at Mrs. Granby's.
+
+"I shall not go," said she, throwing down the card with an air of
+disdain.
+
+"I shall go," said her husband, calmly.
+
+"You will go, my dear!" cried she, amazed. "You will go without _me_?"
+
+"Not without you, if you will be so kind as to go with me, my love,"
+said he.
+
+"It is quite out of my power," said she: "I am engaged to my friend,
+Mrs. Nettleby."
+
+"Very well, my dear," said he; "do as you please."
+
+"Certainly I shall. And I am surprised, my dear, that you do not go to
+see Mr. John Nettleby."
+
+"I have no desire to see him, my dear. He is, as I have often heard
+you say, an obstinate fool. He is a man I dislike particularly."
+
+"Very possibly; but you ought to go to see him notwithstanding."
+
+"Why so, my dear?"
+
+"Because he is married to a woman I like. If you had any regard for
+me, your own feelings would have saved you the trouble of asking that
+question."
+
+"But, my dear, should not your regard for me also suggest to you the
+propriety of keeping up an acquaintance with Mrs. Granby, who is
+married to a man I like, and who is not herself an obstinate fool?"
+
+"I shall not enter into any discussion upon the subject," replied our
+heroine; for this was one of the cases where she made it a rule never
+to reason. "I can only say that I have my own opinion, and that I beg
+to be excused from keeping up any acquaintance whatever with Mrs.
+Granby."
+
+"And I beg to be excused from keeping up any acquaintance whatever
+with Mr. Nettleby," replied her husband.
+
+"Good Heavens!" cried she, raising herself upon the sofa, on which
+she had been reclining, and fixing her eyes upon her husband, with
+unfeigned astonishment: "I do not know you this morning, my dear."
+
+"Possibly not, my dear," replied he; "for hitherto you have seen only
+your lover; now you see your husband."
+
+Never did metamorphosis excite more astonishment. The lady was utterly
+unconscious that she had had any part in producing it--that she had
+herself dissolved the spell. She raged, she raved, she reasoned, in
+vain. Her point she could not compass. Her cruel husband persisted
+in his determination not to go to see Mr. John Nettleby. Absolutely
+astounded, she was silent. There was a truce for some hours. She
+renewed the attack in the evening, and ceased not hostilities for
+three succeeding days and nights, in reasonable hopes of wearying the
+enemy, still without success.
+
+The morning rose, the great, the important day, which was to decide
+the fate of the visit. The contending parties met as usual at
+breakfast; they seemed mutually afraid of each other, and stood at
+bay. There was a forced calm in the gentleman's demeanour--treacherous
+smiles played upon the lady's countenance. He seemed cautious to
+prolong the suspension of hostilities--she fond to anticipate the
+victory. The name of Mrs. Granby, or of Mr. John Nettleby, was not
+uttered by either party, nor did either inquire where the other was
+to spend the evening. At dinner they met again, and preserved on this
+delicate subject a truly diplomatic silence; whilst on the topics
+foreign to their thoughts, they talked with admirable fluency:
+actuated by as sincere desire as ever was felt by negotiating
+politicians to establish peace on the broadest basis, they were,
+_with the most perfect consideration_, each other's devoted, and most
+obedient humble servants. Candour, however, obliges us to confess,
+that though the deference on the part of the gentleman was the most
+unqualified and praiseworthy, the lady was superior in her inimitable
+air of frank cordiality. The _volto sciolto_ was in her favour, the
+_pensieri stretti_ in his. Any one but an ambassador would have been
+deceived by the husband; any one but a woman would have been duped by
+the wife.
+
+So stood affairs when, after dinner, the high and mighty powers
+separated. The lady retired to her toilette. The gentleman remained
+with his bottle. He drank a glass of wine extraordinary. She stayed
+half an hour more than usual at her mirror. Arrayed for battle, our
+heroine repaired to the drawing-room, which she expected to find
+unoccupied;--the enemy had taken the field.
+
+"Dressed, my dear?" said he.
+
+"Ready, my love!" said she.
+
+"Shall I ring the bell for your carriage, my dear?" said the husband.
+
+"If you please. You go with me, my dear?" said the wife.
+
+"I do not know where you are going, my love."
+
+"To Mrs. Nettleby's of course,--and you?"
+
+"To Mrs. Granby's."
+
+The lightning flashed from Griselda's eyes, ere he had half pronounced
+the words. The lightning flashed without effect.
+
+"To Mrs. Granby's!" cried she, in a thundering tone. "To Mrs.
+Granby's!" echoed he. She fell back on the sofa, and a shower of tears
+ensued. Her husband walked up and down the room, rang again for the
+carriage, ordered it in the tone of a master. Then hummed a tune. The
+fair one sobbed: he continued to sing, but was out in the time. The
+lady's sobs grew alarming, and threatened hysterics. He threw open
+the window, and approached the sofa on which she lay. She, half
+recovering, unclasped one bracelet; in haste to get the other off, he
+broke it. The footman came in to announce that the carriage was at the
+door. She relapsed, and seemed in danger of suffocation from her pearl
+necklace, which she made a faint effort to loosen from her neck.
+
+"Send your lady's woman instantly," cried Griselda's husband to the
+footman.
+
+Our heroine made another attempt to untie her necklace, and looked
+up towards her husband with supplicating eyes. His hands trembled;
+he entangled the strings. It would have been all over with him if
+the maid had not at this instant come to his assistance. To her he
+resigned his perilous post; retreated precipitately; and before the
+enemy's forces could rally, gained his carriage, and carried his
+point.
+
+"To Mr. Granby's!" cried he, triumphantly. Arrived there, he hurried
+to Mr. Granby's room.
+
+"Another such victory," cried he, throwing himself into an arm-chair,
+"another such victory, and I am undone."
+
+He related all that had just passed between him and his wife.
+
+"Another such combat," said his friend, "and you are at peace for
+life."
+
+We hope that our readers will not, from this speech, be induced to
+consider Mr. Granby as an instigator of quarrels between man and wife;
+or, according to the plebeian but expressive apophthegm, one who would
+come between the bark and the tree. On the contrary, he was most
+desirous to secure his friend's domestic happiness; and, if possible,
+to prevent the bad effects which were likely to ensue from excessive
+indulgence, and inordinate love of dominion. He had a high respect for
+our heroine's powers, and thought that they wanted only to be well
+managed. The same force which, ill-directed, bursts the engine, and
+scatters destruction, obedient to the master-hand, answers a thousand
+useful purposes, and works with easy, smooth, and graceful regularity.
+Griselda's husband, or, as he now deserves to have his name mentioned,
+Mr. Bolingbroke, roused by his friend's representations, and perhaps
+by a sense of approaching danger, resolved to assume the guidance of
+his wife, or at least--of himself. In opposition to his sovereign
+lady's will, he actually spent this evening as he pleased.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+  "E sol quei giorni io mi vidi contenta,
+  Ch'averla compiaciuto mi trovai."
+
+
+"You are a great deal more courageous than I am, my dear," said Emma
+to her husband, after Mr. Bolingbroke had left them. "I should be very
+much afraid of interfering between your friend and his wife."
+
+"What is friendship," said Mr. Granby, "if it will run no risks? I
+must run the hazard of being called a mischief-maker."
+
+"That is not the danger of which I was thinking," said Emma; "though I
+confess that I should be weak enough to fear that a little: but what I
+meant to express was an apprehension of our doing harm where we most
+wish to do good."
+
+"Do you, my dear Emma, think Griselda incorrigible?"
+
+"No, indeed," cried Emma, with anxious emphasis; "far from it. But
+without thinking a person incorrigible, may we not dislike the idea
+of inflicting correction? I should be very sorry to be the means of
+giving Griselda any pain; she was my friend when we were children; I
+have a real regard for her, and if she does not now seem disposed to
+love me, that must be my fault, not hers: or if it is not my fault,
+call it my misfortune. At all events, I have no right to force myself
+upon her acquaintance. She prefers Mrs. Nettleby; I have not the false
+humility to say, that I think Mrs. Nettleby will prove as safe or as
+good a friend as I hope I should he. But of this Mrs. Bolingbroke has
+a right to judge. And I am sure, far from resenting her resolution to
+avoid my acquaintance, my only feeling about it, at this instant, is
+the dread that it should continue to be a matter of dispute between
+her and her husband."
+
+"If Mr. Bolingbroke insisted, or if I advised him to insist upon his
+wife's coming here, when she does not like it," said Mr. Granby,
+"I should act absurdly, and he would act unjustly; but all that he
+requires is equality of rights, and the liberty of going where _he_
+pleases. She refuses to come to see you: he refuses to go to see Mr.
+John Nettleby. Which has the best of the battle?"
+
+Emma thought it would be best if there were no battle; and observed,
+that refusals and reprisals would only irritate the parties, whose
+interest and happiness it was to be pacified and to agree. She said,
+that if Mr. Bolingbroke, instead of opposing his will to that of his
+wife, which, in fact, was only conquering force by force, would speak
+reasonably to her, probably she might be induced to yield, or to
+command her temper. Mrs. Granby suggested, that a compromise, founded
+on an offer of mutual sacrifice and mutual compliance, might be
+obtained. That Mr. Bolingbroke might promise to give up some of his
+time to the man he disliked, upon condition that Griselda should
+submit to the society of a woman to whom she had an aversion.
+
+"If she consented to this," said Emma, "I would do my best to make her
+like me; or at least to make her time pass agreeably at our house: her
+liking me is a matter of no manner of consequence."
+
+Emma was capable of putting herself entirely out of the question,
+when the interest of others was at stake; her whole desire was to
+conciliate, and all her thoughts were intent upon making her friends
+happy. She seemed to live in them more than in herself, and from
+sympathy arose the greatest pleasure and pain of her existence. Her
+sympathy was not of that useless kind which is called forth only by
+the elegant fictitious sorrows of a heroine of romance; hers was ready
+for all the occasions of real life; nor was it to be easily checked
+by the imperfections of those to whom she could be of service. At
+this moment, when she perceived that her husband was disgusted by
+Griselda's caprice, she said all she could think of in her favour: she
+recollected every anecdote of Griselda's childhood, which showed an
+amiable disposition; and argued, that it was not probable her temper
+should have entirely changed in a few years. Emma's quick-sighted
+good-nature could discern the least portion of merit, where others
+could find only faults; as certain experienced eyes can discover
+grains of gold in the sands, which the ignorant have searched, and
+abandoned as useless. In consequence of Emma's advice--for who would
+reject good advice, offered with so much gentleness?--Mr. Granby wrote
+a note to Mr. Bolingbroke, to recommend the compromise which she had
+suggested. Upon his return home, Mr. Bolingbroke was informed that
+his lady had gone to bed much indisposed; he spent a restless night,
+notwithstanding all his newly-acquired magnanimity. He was much
+relieved in the morning by his friend's note, and blessed Emma for
+proposing the compromise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+  "Each widow to her secret friend alone
+  Whisper'd;--thus treated, he had had his own."
+
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke waited with impatience for Griselda's appearance the
+next morning; but he waited in vain: the lady breakfasted in her own
+apartment, and for two hours afterwards remained in close consultation
+with Mrs. Nettleby, whom she had summoned the preceding night by the
+following note:
+
+    "I have been prevented from spending this evening with you, my
+    dearest Mrs. Nettleby, by the strangest conduct imaginable: am
+    sure you will not believe it when I tell it to you. Come to me, I
+    conjure you, as early to-morrow as you possibly can, that I may
+    explain to you all that has passed, and consult as to the future.
+    My dearest friend, I never was so much in want of an adviser. Ever
+    yours,
+
+    "GRISELDA."
+
+At this consultation, Mrs. Nettleby expressed the utmost astonishment
+at Mr. Bolingbroke's strange conduct, and assured Griselda, that if
+she did not exert herself, all was lost, and she must give up the hope
+of ever having her own way again as long as she lived.
+
+"My dear," said she, "I have had some experience in these things; a
+wife must be either a tyrant or a slave: make your choice; now is your
+time."
+
+"But I never knew him say or do any thing unkind before," said
+Griselda.
+
+"Then the first offence should be properly resented. If he finds you
+forgiving, he will become encroaching; 'tis the nature of man, depend
+upon it."
+
+"He always yielded to me till now," said Griselda; "but even when I
+was ready to go into fits, he left me, and what could I do then?"
+
+"You astonish me beyond expression! you who have every
+advantage--youth, wit, accomplishments, beauty! My dear, if _you_
+cannot keep a husband's heart, who can ever hope to succeed?"
+
+"Oh! as to his heart, I have no doubts of his heart, to do him
+justice," said Griselda; "I know he loves me--passionately loves me."
+
+"And yet you cannot manage him! And you expect me to pity you? Bless
+me, if I had half your advantages, what I would make of them! But if
+you like to be a tame wife, my dear--if you are resolved upon it, tell
+me so at once, and I will hold my tongue."
+
+"I do not know well what I am resolved upon," said Griselda, leaning
+her head in a melancholy posture upon her hand: "I am vexed, out of
+spirits, and out of sorts."
+
+"Out of sorts! I am not surprised at that: but out of spirits! My dear
+creature, you who have every thing to put you in spirits. I am never
+so much _myself_ as when I have a quarrel to fight out."
+
+"I cannot say that is the case with me, unless where I am sure of the
+victory."
+
+"And it is your own fault if you are not always sure of it."
+
+"I thought so till last night; but I assure you last night he showed
+such a spirit!"
+
+"Break that spirit, my dear, break it, or else it will break your
+heart."
+
+"The alternative is terrible," said Griselda, "and more terrible
+perhaps than you could imagine, or I either till now: for would you
+believe it, I never loved him in my life half so well as I did last
+night in the midst of my anger, and when he was doing every thing to
+provoke me?"
+
+"Very natural, my dear; because you saw him behave with spirit, and
+you love spirit; so does every woman; so does every body; show him
+that you have spirit too, and he will be as angry as you were, and
+love you as well in the midst of his anger, whilst you are doing every
+thing to provoke him."
+
+Griselda appeared determined to take this good advice one moment, and
+the next hesitated.
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Nettleby, did you always find this succeed
+yourself?"
+
+"Yes, always."
+
+This lady had the reputation indeed of having broken the heart of her
+first husband; how she would manage her second was yet to be seen,
+as her honeymoon was but just over. The pure love of mischief was
+not her only motive in the advice which she gave to our heroine; she
+had, like most people, mixed motives for her conduct. She disliked
+Mr. Bolingbroke, because he disliked her; yet she wished that an
+acquaintance should be kept up between him and her husband, because
+Mr. Bolingbroke was a man of fortune and fashion.
+
+Griselda promised that she would behave with that proper spirit,
+which was to make her at once amiable and victorious; and the friends
+parted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+  "With patient, meek, submissive mind,
+  To her hard fate resign'd."
+
+POTTER'S AESCHYLUS
+
+
+Left to her own good genius, Griselda reflected that novelty has the
+most powerful effect upon the heart of man. In all the variations of
+her humour, her husband had never yet seen her in the sullen mood; and
+in this she now sat prepared to receive him. He came with an earnest
+desire to speak to her in the kindest and most reasonable manner. He
+began by saying how much it had cost him to give her one moment's
+uneasiness:--his voice, his look, were those of truth and love.
+
+Unmoved, Griselda, without raising her leaden eyes, answered in a cold
+voice, "I am very sorry that you should have felt _any_ concern upon
+my account."
+
+"_Any_! my love; you do not know how _much_ I have felt this night."
+
+She looked upon him with civil disbelief; and replied, "that she was
+sure she ought to be much obliged to him."
+
+This frigid politeness repressed his affection: he was silent for some
+moments.
+
+"My dear Griselda," said he, "this is not the way in which we should
+live together; we who have every thing that can make us contented: do
+not let us throw away our happiness for trifles not worth thinking
+of."
+
+"If we are not happy, it is not my fault," said Griselda.
+
+"We will not inquire whose fault it is, my dear; let the blame rest
+upon me: let the past be forgotten; let us look towards the future. In
+future, let us avoid childish altercations, and live like reasonable
+creatures. I have the highest opinion of your sex in general, and of
+you in particular; I wish to live with my wife as my equal, my friend;
+I do not desire that my will should govern: where our inclinations
+differ, let reason decide between us; or where it is a matter not
+worth reasoning about, let us alternately yield to one another." He
+paused.
+
+"I do not desire or expect that you should ever henceforward yield to
+my wishes either in trifles or in matters of consequence," replied
+Griselda, with provoking meekness; "you have taught me my duty: the
+duty of a wife is to submit; and submit I hope I shall in future,
+without reply or reasoning, to your sovereign will and pleasure."
+
+"Nay, my dear," said he, "do not treat me as a brutal tyrant, when I
+wish to do every thing in my power to make you happy. Use your own
+excellent understanding, and I shall always, I hope, be inclined to
+yield to your reasons."
+
+"I shall never trouble you with my reasons; I shall never use my own
+understanding in the least: I know that men cannot bear understanding
+in women; I shall always, as it is my duty, submit to your better
+judgment."
+
+"But, my love, I do not require duty from you; this sort of blind
+submission would be mortifying, instead of gratifying to me, from a
+wife."
+
+"I do not know what a wife can do to satisfy a husband, if submitting
+in every thing be not sufficient."
+
+"I say it would be too much for me, my dearest love!"
+
+"I can do nothing but submit," repeated the perverse Griselda, with a
+most provoking immoveable aspect of humility.
+
+"Why _will_ you not understand me, my dear?" cried her husband.
+
+"It is not my fault if I cannot understand you, my dear: I do not
+pretend to have your understanding," said the fair politician,
+affecting weakness to gain her point; like those artful candidates for
+papal dominion, who used to affect decrepitude and imbecility, till
+they secured at once absolute power and infallibility.
+
+"I know my abilities are quite inferior to yours, my dear," said
+Griselda; "but I thought it was sufficient for a woman to know how to
+obey; I can do no more."
+
+Fretted beyond his patience, her husband walked up and down the room
+greatly agitated, whilst she sat content and secure in tranquil
+obstinacy.
+
+"You are enough to provoke the patience of Job, my dear," cried her
+husband; "you'll break my heart."
+
+"I am sorry for it, my dear; but if you will only tell me what I can
+do more to please you, I will do it."
+
+"Then, my love," cried he, taking hold of her white hand, which hung
+in a lifeless attitude over the arm of the couch, "be happy, I conjure
+you! all I ask of you is to be happy."
+
+"That is out of my power," said she, mildly, suffering her husband to
+keep her hand, as if it was an act of duty to submit to his caresses.
+He resigned her hand; her countenance never varied; if she had been
+slave to the most despotic sultan of the East, she could not have
+shown more utter submission than she displayed to this most indulgent
+European "husband lover."
+
+Unable to command his temper, or to conceal how much he was hurt, he
+rose and said, "I will leave you for the present, my dear; some time
+when you are better disposed to converse with me, I will return."
+
+"Whenever you please, sir; all times are alike to me: whenever you are
+at leisure, I can have no choice."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+  "And acting duty all the merit lose."
+
+
+Some hours afterwards, hoping to find his sultana in a better humour,
+Mr. Bolingbroke returned; but no sooner did he approach the sofa on
+which she was still seated, than she again seemed to turn into stone,
+like the Princess Rhezzia, in the Persian Tales; who was blooming and
+charming, except when her husband entered the room. The unfortunate
+Princess Rhezzia loved her husband tenderly, but was doomed to this
+fate by a vile enchanter. If she was more to be pitied for being
+subject to involuntary metamorphosis, our heroine is surely more to
+be admired, for the constancy with which she endured a self-inflicted
+penance; a penance calculated to render her odious in the eyes of her
+husband.
+
+"My dear," said this most patient of men, "I am sorry to renew any
+ideas that will be disagreeable to you; I will mention the subject but
+once more, and then let it be forgotten for ever--our foolish dispute
+about Mr. Nettleby. Let us compromise the matter. I will bear Mr. John
+Nettleby for your sake, if you will bear Mrs. Granby for mine. I will
+go to see Mr. Nettleby to-morrow, if you will come the day afterwards
+with me to Mr. Granby's. Where husband and wife do not agree in their
+wishes, it is reasonable that each should yield a little of their will
+to the other. I hope this compromise will satisfy you, my dear."
+
+"It does not become a wife to enter into any compromise with her
+husband; she has nothing to do but to obey, as soon as he signifies
+his pleasure. I shall go to Mr. Granby's on Tuesday, as you command."
+
+"Command! my love."
+
+"As you--whatever you please to call it."
+
+"But are you satisfied with this arrangement, my dear?"
+
+"It is no manner of consequence whether I am or not."
+
+"To me, you know, it is of the greatest: you must be sensible that
+my sincere wish is to make you happy: I give you some proof of it
+by consenting to keep up an acquaintance with a man whose company I
+dislike."
+
+"I am much obliged to you, my dear; but as to your going to see Mr.
+John Nettleby, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me; I only
+just mentioned it as a thing of course; I beg you will not do it on my
+account: I hope you will do whatever you think best and what pleases
+yourself, upon this and every other occasion. I shall never more
+presume to offer my advice."
+
+Nothing more could be obtained from the submissive wife; she went to
+Mr. Granby's; she was all duty, for she knew the show of it was the
+most provoking thing upon earth to a husband, at least to such a
+husband as hers. She therefore persisted in this line of conduct, till
+she made her victim at last exclaim--
+
+  "I love thee and hate thee, but if I can tell
+    The cause of my love and my hate, may I die.
+  I can feel it, alas! I can feel it too well,
+    That I love thee and hate thee, but cannot tell why."
+
+His fair one was much flattered by this confession; she triumphed in
+having excited "this contrariety of feelings;" nor did she foresee
+the possibility of her husband's recollecting that stanza which the
+school-boy, more philosophical than the poet, applies to his tyrant.
+
+Whilst our heroine was thus acting to perfection the part of a dutiful
+wife, Mrs. Nettleby was seconding her to the best of her abilities,
+and announcing her amongst all their acquaintance, in the interesting
+character of--"a woman that is very much to be pitied."
+
+"Poor Mrs. Bolingbroke!--Don't you think, ma'am, she is very much
+changed since her marriage?--Quite fallen away!--and all her fine
+spirits, what are become of them?--It really grieves my heart to see
+her.--Oh, she is a very unhappy woman!! really to be pitied, if you
+knew but all."
+
+Then a significant nod, or a melancholy mysterious look, set the
+imagination of the company at work; or, if this did not succeed, a
+whisper in plain terms pronounced Mr. Bolingbroke "a sad sort of
+husband, a very odd-tempered man, and, in short, a terrible tyrant;
+though nobody would guess it, who only saw him in company: but men are
+such deceivers!"
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke soon found that all his wishes were thwarted, and all
+his hopes of happiness crossed, by the straws which this evil-minded
+dame contrived to throw in his way. Her influence over his wife he saw
+increased every hour: though they visited each other every day, these
+ladies could never meet without having some important secrets to
+impart, and conspiracies were to be performed in private, at which a
+husband could not be permitted to assist. Then notes without number
+were to pass continually, and these were to be thrown hastily into
+the fire at the approach of the enemy. Mr. Bolingbroke determined to
+break this league, which seemed to be more a league of hatred than
+of amity.--The London winter was now over, and, taking advantage of
+the continuance of his wife's perverse fit of duty and unqualified
+submission, he one day requested her to accompany him into the
+country, to spend a few weeks with his friend Mr. Granby, at his
+charming place in Devonshire. The part of a wife was to obey, and
+Griselda was bound to support her character. She resolved, however, to
+make her obedience cost her lord as dear as possible, and she promised
+herself that this party of pleasure should become a party of pain. She
+and her lord were to travel in the same carriage with Mr. and Mrs.
+Granby. Griselda had only time, before she set off, to write a hasty
+billet to Mrs. Nettleby, to inform her of these intentions, and to bid
+her adieu till better times. Mrs. Nettleby sincerely regretted this
+interruption of their hourly correspondence; for she was deprived not
+only of the pleasure of hearing, but of making matrimonial complaints.
+She had now been married two months; and her fool began to grow
+restive; no animal on earth is more restive than a fool: but,
+confident that Mrs. Nettleby will hold the bridle with a strong hand,
+we leave her to pull against his hard mouth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+  "Playzir ne l'est qu'autant qu'on le partage."
+
+
+We pass over the infinite variety of petty torments, which our heroine
+contrived to inflict upon her fellow-travellers during her journey
+down to Devonshire. Inns, food, beds, carriage, horses, baggage,
+roads, prospect, hill, dale, sun, wind, dust, rain, earth, air, fire,
+and water, all afforded her matter of complaint. It was astonishing
+that Emma discovered none of these inconveniences; but, as fast as
+they were complained of, she amused herself in trying to obviate them.
+
+Lord Kames has observed, that a power to recall at will pleasing
+objects would be a more valuable gift to any mortal than ever was
+bestowed in a fairy tale. With this power Emma was endowed in the
+highest perfection; and as fast as our heroine recollected some evil
+that had happened, or was likely to happen, Emma raised the opposite
+idea of some good, past, present, or future; so that it was scarcely
+possible even for the spirit of contradiction personified to resist
+the magic of her good-humour.
+
+No sooner did she arrive at her own house, than she contrived a
+variety of ways of showing attention and kindness to her guest; and
+when all this was received with sullen indifference, or merely
+as tributes due to superiority, Emma was not discouraged in her
+benevolence, but, instead of being offended, seemed to pity her friend
+for "having had her temper so unhappily spoiled."
+
+"Griselda is so handsome," said Mrs. Granby one day, in her defence,
+"she has such talents--she has been so much admired, worshipped, and
+indulged--that it would be wonderful if she were not a little spoiled.
+I dare say that, if I had been in her place, my brain would never
+have stood the intoxication. Who can measure their strength, or their
+weakness, till they are tried? Another thing should be considered;
+Griselda excites envy, and though she may not have more faults than
+her neighbours, they are more noticed, because they are in the full
+light of prosperity. What a number of motes swarm in a single ray of
+light, coming through the shutter of a darkened room! There are not
+more motes in that spot than in any other part of the room, but the
+sun-beams show them more distinctly. The dust that lives in snug
+obscurity should consider this, and have mercy upon its fellow dust."
+
+In Emma's kindness there was none of the parade of goodness; she
+seemed to follow her natural disposition; and, as Griselda once said
+of her, to be good because she could not help it. She required neither
+praise nor thanks for any thing that she did; and, provided her
+friends were happy, she was satisfied, without ever wishing to be
+admired as the cause of that happiness. Her powers of pleasing were
+chiefly remarkable for lasting longer than others, and the secret of
+their permanence was not easily guessed, because it was so simple.
+It depended merely on the equability of her humour. It is said, that
+there is nothing marvellous in the colours of those Egyptian monuments
+which have been the admiration of ages; the secret of their duration
+is supposed to depend simply on the fineness of the climate and
+invariability of the temperature.--But
+
+  "Griselda will admit no wandering muse."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke was by this time tired of continuing in one mood,
+even though it was the sullen; and her genius was cramped by the
+constraint of affected submission. She recovered her charming spirits
+soon after she came into the country, and for a short time no mortal
+mixture of earth's mould could be more agreeable. She called forth
+every charm; she was all gaiety, wit, and smiles; she poured light and
+life upon conversation.
+
+As the Marquis de Chastellux said of some fascinating fair one--"She
+had no expression without grace, and no grace without expression."
+It was delightful to our heroine to hear it said, "How charming Mrs.
+Bolingbroke can be when she pleases; when she wishes to captivate, how
+irresistible!--Who can equal Mrs. Bolingbroke when she is in one of
+her _good days_?"
+
+The triumph of eclipsing Mrs. Granby would have been delightful, but
+that Emma seemed to feel no mortification from being thrown into the
+shade; she seemed to enjoy her friend's success so sincerely, that
+it was impossible to consider her as a rival. She had so carefully
+avoided noticing any little disagreement or coolness between Mr. and
+Mrs. Bolingbroke, that it might have been doubted whether she attended
+to their mutual conduct; but the obvious delight she took in seeing
+them again on good terms with each other proved that she was not
+deficient in penetration. She appeared to see only what others desired
+that she should see, upon these delicate occasions, where voluntary
+blindness is not artifice, but prudence. Mr. Bolingbroke was now
+enchanted with Griselda, and ready to exclaim every instant, "Be ever
+thus!"
+
+Her husband thought he had found a mine of happiness; he began
+to breathe, and to bless his kind stars. He had indeed lighted
+unexpectedly upon a rich vein, but it was soon exhausted, and all
+his farther progress was impeded by certain vapours, dangerous to
+approach. Fatal sweets! which lure the ignorant to destruction, but
+from which the more experienced fly with precipitation.--Our heroine
+was now fully prepared to kill her husband with kindness; she was
+afraid, if he rode, that his horse would throw him; if he walked, that
+he would tire himself; if he sat still, that he must want exercise; if
+he went out, that he would catch cold; if he stayed at home, that he
+was kept a prisoner; if he did not eat, that he was sick; if he did
+eat, that he would be sick;--&c. &c. &c. &c. There was no end to these
+fond fears: he felt that there was something ridiculous in submitting
+to them; and yet to resist in the least was deemed the height
+of unkindness and ingratitude. One night she fell into a fit of
+melancholy, upon his laughing at her fears, that he should kill
+himself, by standing for an instant at an open window, on a fine
+night, to look at a beautiful rising moon. When he endeavoured to
+recover her from her melancholy, it was suddenly converted into
+anger, and, after tears, came a storm of reproaches. Her husband,
+in consideration of the kindness of her original intention, passed
+over her anger, and even for some days refrained from objecting to
+any regimen she prescribed for his health and happiness. But his
+forbearance failed him at length, and he presumed to eat some salad,
+which his wife "knew would disagree with him." She was provoked
+afterwards, because she could not make him allow that it had made him
+ill. She termed this extreme obstinacy; he pleaded that it was simple
+truth. Truth upon some occasions is the most offensive thing that
+can be spoken: the lady was enraged, and, after saying every thing
+provoking that matrimonial spleen could suggest, when he in his turn
+grew warm, she cooled, and said, "You must be sensible, my dear, that
+all I say and do arises from affection."
+
+"Oh! my love," said he, recovering his good-humour, "this
+never-failing opiate soothes my vanity, and lulls my anger; then you
+may govern me as you please. Torment me to death,--I cannot oppose
+you."
+
+"I suppose," said she, "you think me like the vampire-bat, who fans
+his victim to sleep with its wings, whilst she sucks its life-blood."
+
+"Yes, exactly," said he, smiling: "thank you for the apt allusion."
+
+"Very apt, indeed," said she; and a thick gloom overspread her
+countenance. She persisted in taking his assent in sober earnest.
+"Yes," said she, "I find you think all my kindness is treacherous. I
+will show you no more, and then you cannot accuse me of treachery."
+
+It was in vain that he protested he had been only in jest; she was
+convinced that he was in earnest; she was suddenly afflicted with an
+absolute incapacity of distinguishing jest from earnest. She recurred
+to the idea of the vampire-bat, whenever it was convenient to her to
+suppose that her husband thought strange things of her, which never
+entered his brain. This bat proved to him a bird of ill omen, which
+preceded a train of misfortunes, that no mortal foresight could reach,
+and no human prudence avert. His goddess was not to be appeased by any
+propitiatory or expiatory sacrifice.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+  "Short is the period of insulting power,
+  Offended Cupid finds his vengeful hour."
+
+
+Finding it impossible to regain his fair one's favour, Mr. Bolingbroke
+absented himself from her presence. He amused himself for some days
+with his friend Mr. Granby, in attending to a plantation which he was
+laying out in his grounds. Griselda was vexed to perceive that her
+husband could find any amusement independent of her; and she never
+failed, upon his return, to mark her displeasure.
+
+One morning the gentlemen had been so much occupied with their
+plantation, that they did not attend the breakfast-table precisely
+in due time: the contrast in the looks of the two ladies when their
+husbands entered the room was striking. Griselda was provoked with
+Mrs. Granby for being so good-humoured.
+
+"Lord bless me! Mrs. Granby, how you spoil these men," cried she.
+
+All the time the gentlemen were at breakfast, Mrs. Bolingbroke played
+with her tea-spoon, and did not deign to utter a syllable; and
+when the gentlemen left the breakfast-table, and returned to their
+business, Griselda, who was, as our readers may have observed, one
+of the fashionable lollers by profession, established herself upon a
+couch, and began an attack upon Emma, for spoiling her husband in such
+a sad manner. Emma defended herself in a playful way, by answering
+that she could not venture to give unnecessary pain, because she was
+not so sure as some of her friends might be of their power of giving
+pleasure. Mrs. Bolingbroke proceeded to descant upon the difference
+between friendship and love: with some vanity, and some malice, she
+touched upon the difference between the _sorts of sentiments_ which
+different women excited. Passion, she argued, could be kept alive
+only by a certain happy mixture of caprice and grace, coldness and
+ill-humour. She confessed that, for her part, she never could be
+content with the friendship of a husband. Emma, without claiming or
+disclaiming her pretensions to love, quoted the saying of a French
+gentleman:
+
+  "L'Amitie est l'Amour sans ailes."
+
+  "Friendship is Love deprived of his wings."
+
+Griselda had no apprehension that love could ever fly from her, and
+she declared she could not endure him without his wings.
+
+Our heroine did not imagine that any of the little vexations which
+she habitually inflicted upon her husband could really diminish his
+regard. She, never had calculated the prodigious effects which can
+be produced by petty causes constantly acting. Indeed this is a
+consideration, to which the pride or short-sightedness of human nature
+is not prone.
+
+Who in contemplating one of Raphael's finest pictures, fresh from
+the master's hand, ever bestowed a thought upon the wretched little
+worm which works its destruction? Who that beholds the gilded vessel
+gliding in gallant trim--"youth at the prow, and pleasure at the
+helm;" ever at that instant thought of--barnacles? The imagination is
+disgusted by the anti-climax; and of all species of the bathos, the
+sinking from visionary happiness to sober reality is that from which
+human nature is most averse. The wings of the imagination, accustomed
+to ascend, resist the downward flight.
+
+Confident of her charms, heedless of danger, accustomed to think her
+empire absolute and eternal; our heroine, to amuse herself, and to
+display her power to Emma, persisted in her practice of tormenting.
+The ingenuity with which she varied her tortures was certainly
+admirable. After exhausting old ones, she invented new; and when
+the new lost their efficacy, she recurred to the old. She had often
+observed, that the blunt method of contradicting, which some bosom
+friends practise in conversation, is of sovereign power to provoke;
+and this consequently, though unpolite, she disdained not to imitate.
+It had the greater effect, as it was in diametrical opposition to the
+style of Mrs. Granby's conversation; who, in discussions with her
+husband, or her intimate friends, was peculiarly and habitually
+attentive to politeness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+  "Ella biasmandol sempre, e dispregiando
+  Se gli venia piu sempre inimicando."
+
+
+By her judicious and kind interposition, Emma often prevented the
+disagreeable consequences that threatened to ensue from Griselda's
+disputatious habits; but one night it was past her utmost skill to
+avert a violent storm, which arose about the pronunciation of a word.
+It began about eleven o'clock. Just as the family were sitting down
+to supper, seemingly in perfect harmony of spirits, Mr. Bolingbroke
+chanced to say, "I think the wind is rising." (He pronounced the word
+_wi*nd, short_.)
+
+[Transcriber's note: What is printed in the original text as an "i"
+with a breve is rendered here as "i*".]
+
+"_Wi*nd_! my dear," cried his wife, echoing his pronunciation; "do,
+for heaven's sake, call it wi*nd."
+
+The lady sounded this word long.
+
+"Wind! my love," repeated he after her: "I doubt whether that be the
+right pronunciation."
+
+"I am surprised you can doubt it," said she, "for I never heard any
+body call it _wi*nd_ but yourself."
+
+"Did not you, my love? that is very extraordinary: many people, I
+believe, call it _wi*nd_."
+
+"Vulgarians, perhaps!"
+
+"Vulgarians! No, indeed, my dear; very polite, well-informed people."
+
+Griselda, with a look of unutterable contempt, reiterated the word
+_polite_.
+
+"Yes, my dear, _polite_," persisted Mr. Bolingbroke, who was now come
+to such a pass, that he would defend his opinion in opposition to
+hers, stoutly and warmly. "Yes, _polite_, my dear, I maintain it; the
+most _polite_ people pronounce it as I do."
+
+"You may maintain what you please, my dear," said the lady, coolly;
+"but I maintain the contrary."
+
+"Assertion is no proof on either side, I acknowledge," said Mr.
+Bolingbroke, recollecting himself.
+
+"No, in truth," said Mrs. Bolingbroke, "especially such an absurd
+assertion as yours, my dear. Now I will go no farther than Mrs.
+Granby:--Mrs. Granby, did you ever hear any person, who knew how to
+speak, pronounce wi*nd--_wi*nd_?"
+
+"Mrs. Granby, have not you heard it called _wi*nd_ in good company?"
+
+The disputants eagerly approached her at the same instant, and looked
+as if their fortunes or lives depended upon the decision.
+
+"I think I have heard the word pronounced both ways, by well-bred and
+well-informed people," said Mrs. Granby.
+
+"That is saying nothing, my dear," said Mrs. Bolingbroke, pettishly.
+
+"This is saying all I want," said Mr. Bolingbroke, satisfied.
+
+"I would lay any wager, however, that Mr. ----, if he were here,
+would give it in my favour; and I suppose you will not dispute his
+authority."
+
+"I will not dispute the authority of Sheridan's Dictionary," cried Mr.
+Bolingbroke, taking it down from the book-case, and turning over the
+leaves hastily.--"Sheridan gives it for me, my dear," said he, with
+exultation.
+
+"You need not speak with such triumph, my dear, for I do not submit to
+Sheridan."
+
+"No! Will you submit to Kenrick, then?"
+
+"Let us see what he says, and I will then tell you," said the lady.
+"No--Kenrick was not of her opinion, and he was no authority." Walker
+was produced; and this battle of the pronouncing dictionaries seemed
+likely to have no end. Mrs. Granby, when she could be heard, remarked
+that it was difficult to settle any dispute about pronunciation,
+because in fact no reasons could be produced, and no standard appealed
+to but custom, which is perpetually changing; and, as Johnson says,
+"whilst our language is variable with the caprice of all who use it,
+words can no more be ascertained in a dictionary, than a grove in the
+agitation of a storm can be accurately delineated from its picture in
+the water."
+
+The combatants would scarcely allow Emma time to finish this allusion,
+and certainly did not give themselves time to understand it; but
+continued to fight about the word custom, the only word that they had
+heard.
+
+"Yes, custom! custom!" cried they at once, "custom must decide, to
+be sure." Then came _my_ custom and _your_ custom; the custom of the
+stage, the custom of the best company, the custom of the best poets;
+and all these were opposed to one another with increasing rapidity.
+"Good heavens, my dear! did you ever hear Kemble say, 'Rage on, ye
+_wi*nds_!'--Ridiculous!"
+
+"I grant you on the stage it may be winds; but in common conversation
+it is allowable to pronounce it as I do, my dear."
+
+"I appeal to the best poets, Mr. Bolingbroke: nothing can be more
+absurd than your way of--"
+
+"Listen, lively lordlings all!" interrupted Emma, pressing with
+playful vehemence between the disputants; "I must be heard, for I have
+not spoken this half hour, and thus I pronounce--You both are right,
+and both are wrong.
+
+"And now, my good friends, had not we better go to rest?" said she;
+"for it is past midnight."
+
+As they took their candles, and went up stairs, the parties continued
+the battle: Mrs. Bolingbroke brought quotations innumerable to her
+aid, and in a shrill tone repeated,
+
+  "'He might not let even the winds of heaven
+  Visit her face too roughly.'
+
+  ----"'pass by me as the idle wind,
+  Which I respect not.'
+
+  "'And let her down the wind to prey at fortune.'
+
+  "'Blow, thou winter's wind,
+  Thou art not so unkind.'
+
+  "'Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow.'"
+
+Her voice was raised to the highest pitch: it was in vain that her
+husband repeated that he acknowledged the word should be called as
+she pronounced it in poetry; she reiterated her quotations and her
+assertions till at last she knew not what she said; her sense failed
+the more her anger increased. At length Mr. Bolingbroke yielded. Noise
+conquers sometimes where art fails.
+
+"Thus," said he, "the hawk that could not be hoodwinked, was at last
+tamed, by being exposed to the din of a blacksmith's hammer."
+
+Griselda was incensed by this remark, and still more by the allusion,
+which she called the second edition of the vampire-bat. Both husband
+and wife went to sleep mutually displeased, and more disgusted with
+each other than they had ever been since their marriage: and all this
+for the pronunciation of a word!
+
+Early in the morning they were wakened by a messenger, who brought an
+express, informing Mr. Bolingbroke that his uncle was not expected to
+live, and that he wished to see him immediately. Mr. Bolingbroke rose
+instantly; all the time that he was dressing, and preparing in the
+greatest hurry for his journey, Griselda tormented him by disputing
+about the propriety of his going, and ended with, "Promise me to write
+every post, my dear; positively you must."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+  "He sighs for freedom, she for power."
+
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke did not comply with his wife's request, or rather with
+her injunction, to write _every post_: and when he did write, Griselda
+always found some fault with his letters. They were too short, too
+stiff, or too cold, and "very different indeed," she said, "from what
+he used to write before he was married." This was certainly true; and
+absence was not at the present crisis the most advantageous thing
+possible to our heroine. Absence is said to extinguish a weak flame,
+and to increase a strong one. Mr. Bolingbroke's passion for his
+Griselda had, by some means, been of late diminished. He parted from
+her with the disagreeable impression of a dispute upon his mind. As
+he went farther from her he perceived that instead of dragging a
+lengthened chain, his chain grew lighter. His uncle recovered: he
+found agreeable society in the neighbourhood; he was persuaded to
+prolong his stay: his mind, which had been continually harassed, now
+enjoyed some tranquillity. On an unlucky evening, he recollected
+Martial's famous epigram and his wife, in one and the same instant:
+
+  "My mind still hovering round about you,
+  I thought I could not live without you;
+  But now we have lived three weeks asunder,
+  How I lived with you is the wonder."
+
+In the mean time, our heroine's chief amusement, in her husband's
+absence, was writing to complain of him to Mrs. Nettleby. This lady's
+answers were now filled with a reciprocity of conjugal abuse; she had
+found, to her cost, that it is the most desperate imprudence to marry
+a fool, in the hopes of governing him. All her powers of tormenting
+were lost upon her blessed helpmate. He was not to be moved by wit or
+sarcasm, eloquence or noise, tears or caresses, reason, jealousy, or
+the opinion of the world.
+
+What did he care what the world thought, he would do as he pleased
+himself; he would be master in his own house: it did not signify
+talking or crying, or being in the right; right or wrong, he would be
+obeyed; a wife should never govern him; he had no notion of letting a
+woman rule, for his part; women were born to obey, and promised it
+in church. As to jealousy, let his wife look to that; if she did not
+choose to behave properly, he knew his remedy, and would as soon be
+divorced as not: "Rule a wife and have a wife," was the burden of his
+song.
+
+It was in vain to goad his insensible nature, in hopes of obtaining
+any good: vain as the art said to be possessed by Linnaeus, of
+producing pearls by pricking oysters. Mrs. Nettleby, the witty, the
+spirited Widow Nettleby, was now in the most hopeless and abject
+condition; tyrannized over by a dunce,--and who could pity her? not
+even her dear Griselda.
+
+One day Mrs. Bolingbroke received an epistle of seven pages from
+_poor_ Mrs. Nettleby, giving a full and true account of Mr. Nettleby's
+extraordinary obstinacy about "the awning of a pleasure-boat, which
+he would not suffer to be made according to her directions, and which
+consequently caused the oversetting of the boat, and _very nearly_
+the deaths of all the party." Tired with the long history, and with
+the notes upon the history of this adventure, in Mrs. Nettleby's
+declamatory style, our heroine walked out to refresh herself. She
+followed a pleasant path in a field near the house, and came to a
+shady lane, where she heard Mr. and Mrs. Granby's voices. She went
+towards the place. There was a turn in the lane, and a thick hedge
+of hawthorn prevented them from being immediately seen. As she
+approached, she heard Mr. Granby saying to Emma, in the fondest tone
+of affection, "My dear Emma, pray let it be done the way that you like
+best."
+
+They were looking at a cottage which they were building. The masons
+had, by mistake, followed the plan which Mr. Granby proposed, instead
+of that which Emma had suggested. The wall was half built; but Mr.
+Granby desired that it might be pulled down and altered to suit Emma's
+taste.
+
+"Bless me!" cried Griselda, with great surprise, "are you really going
+to have it pulled down, Mr. Granby?"
+
+"Certainly," replied he; "and what is more, I am going to help to pull
+it down."
+
+He ran to assist the masons, and worked with a degree of zeal, which
+increased Mrs. Bolingbroke's astonishment.
+
+"Good Heavens!--He could not do more for you if you were his
+mistress."
+
+"He never did so much for me, till I was his wife," said Emma.
+
+"That's strange!--Very unlike other men. But, my dear," said Mrs.
+Bolingbroke, taking Mrs. Granby's arm, and drawing her aside, "how did
+you acquire such surprising power over your husband?"
+
+"By not desiring it, I believe," replied Emma, smiling; "I have never
+used any other art."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+  "Et cependant avec toute sa diablerie,
+  Il faut que je l'appelle et mon coeur et ma mie."
+
+
+Our heroine was still meditating upon the extraordinary method by
+which Emma had acquired power over her husband, when a carriage drove
+down the lane, and Mr. Bolingbroke's head appeared looking out of the
+chaise window. His face did not express so much joy as she thought it
+ought to display at the sight of her, after three weeks' absence. She
+was vexed, and received him coldly. He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Granby,
+and was not miserable. Griselda did not speak one word during their
+walk home; still her husband continued in good spirits: she was more
+and more out of humour, and took no pains to conceal her displeasure.
+He bore it well, but then he seemed to feel it so little, that she
+was exasperated beyond measure; she seized the first convenient
+opportunity, when she found him alone, of beginning a direct attack.
+
+"This is not the way in which you _used_ to meet me, after an absence
+ever so short." He replied, that he was really very glad to see her,
+but that she, on the contrary, seemed sorry to see him.
+
+"Because you are quite altered now," continued she, in a querulous
+tone. "I always prophesied, that you would cease to love me."
+
+"Take care, my dear," said he, smiling; "some prophecies are the cause
+of their own accomplishment,--the sole cause. Come, my Griselda,"
+continued he, in a serious tone, "do not let us begin to quarrel
+the moment we meet." He offered to embrace her, but she drew back
+haughtily. "What! do you confess that you no longer love me?" cried
+she.
+
+"Far from it: but it is in your own power," said he, hesitating, "to
+diminish or increase my love."
+
+"Then it is no love, if it can be either increased or diminished,"
+cried she; "it is no love worth having. I remember the day when
+you swore to me, that your affection could not be increased or
+diminished."
+
+"I was _in_ love in those days, my dear, and did not know what I
+swore," said Mr. Bolingbroke, endeavouring to turn the conversation:
+"never reproach a man, when he is sober, with what he said when he was
+drunk."
+
+"Then you are sober now, are you?" cried she angrily.
+
+"It is to be hoped I am," said he, laughing.
+
+"Cruel, barbarous man!" cried she.
+
+"For being sober?" said he: "have not you been doing all you could to
+sober me these eighteen months, my dear? and now do not be angry if
+you have in some degree succeeded."
+
+"Succeeded!--Oh, wretched woman! this is thy lot!" exclaimed Griselda,
+clasping her hands in an agony of passion. "Oh, that my whole
+unfortunate sex could _see_ me,--could _hear_ you at this instant!
+Never, never did the love of man endure one twelvemonth after
+marriage. False, treacherous, callous, perjured tyrant! leave me!
+leave me!"
+
+He obeyed; she called him back, with a voice half suffocated with
+rage, but he returned not.
+
+Never was departing love recalled by the voice of reproach. It is
+not, as the poet fables, at the sight of human ties, that Cupid
+is frightened, for he is blind; but he has the most delicate ears
+imaginable: scared at the sound of female objurgation, Love claps his
+wings and urges his irrevocable flight.
+
+Griselda remained for some time in her apartment to indulge her
+ill-humour; she had leisure for this indulgence; she was not now, as
+formerly, disturbed by the fond interruptions of a husband. Longer had
+her angry fit lasted, but for a circumstance, which may to many of our
+readers appear unnatural: our heroine became hungry. The passions are
+more under the control of the hours of meals[1] than any one, who has
+not observed human life out of novels, can easily believe. Dinner-time
+came, and Mrs. Bolingbroke appeared at dinner as usual. In the
+presence of Mr. and Mrs. Granby pride compelled Griselda to command
+herself, and no one could guess what had passed between her and her
+husband: but no sooner was she again tete-a-tete with him, than her
+reproaches recommenced with fresh violence.--"Will you only do me the
+justice to tell me, Mr. Bolingbroke," cried she, "what reason you have
+to love me less?"
+
+[Footnote 1: De Retz' Memoirs.]
+
+"Reason, my dear," said he; "you know love is independent of reason,
+according to your own definition: love is involuntary, you cannot
+therefore blame me for its caprices."
+
+"Insulting casuistry!" said she, weeping; "sophistical nonsense! Have
+you any rational complaint to make against me, Bolingbroke?"
+
+"I make no complaints, rational or irrational, my dear; they are all
+on your side."
+
+"And well they may be," cried Griselda, "when you treat me in such a
+barbarous manner: but I do not complain; the world shall be my judge;
+the world will do me justice, if you will not. I appeal to every body
+who knows me, have I ever given you the slightest cause for ill-usage?
+Can you accuse me of any extravagance, of any imprudence, sir?"
+
+"I accuse you of neither, Mrs. Bolingbroke."
+
+"No, because you cannot, sir; my character, my fidelity is
+unimpeached, unimpeachable: the world will do me justice."
+
+Griselda contrived to make even her virtues causes of torment. Upon
+the strength of this unimpeachable fidelity, she thought she might be
+as ill-humoured as she pleased; she seemed now to think that she had
+acquired an indefeasible right to reproach her husband, since she had
+extorted from him the confession that he loved her less, and that he
+had no crime to lay to her charge. Ten days passed on in this manner;
+the lady becoming every hour more irritable, the gentleman every hour
+more indifferent.
+
+To have revived or killed affection _secundem artem_, the fair
+practitioner should now have thrown in a little jealousy: but,
+unluckily, she was so situated that this was impossible. No object any
+way fit for the purpose was at hand; nothing was to be found within
+ten miles of her but honest country squires; and,
+
+  "With all the powers of nature and of art,
+  She could not break one stubborn country heart."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+  "To whom the virgin majesty of Eve,
+  As one who loves and some unkindness meets,
+  With sweet austere composure thus replies."
+
+
+Many privileges are, and ought to be, allowed to the virgin majesty
+of the sex; and even when the modern fair one does not reply with all
+the sweet austere composure of Eve, her anger may have charms for a
+lover. There is a certain susceptibility of temper, that sometimes
+accompanies the pride of virtue, which indicates a quick sense of
+shame, and warm feelings of affection; in whatsoever manner this may
+be shown, it appears amiable and graceful. And if this sensibility
+degenerate into irritability, a lover pardons it in his mistress; it
+is her prerogative to be haughty; and if he be dexterous to seize
+"the moment of returning love," it is often his interest to promote
+quarrels, for the sake of the pleasures of reconciliation. The jealous
+doubts, the alternate hopes and fears, attendant on the passion of
+love, are dear to the lover whilst his passion lasts; but when that
+subsides--as subside it must--his taste for altercation ceases. The
+proverb which favours the quarrels of lovers may prove fatal to the
+happiness of husbands; and woe be to the wife who puts her faith in
+it! There are, however, people who would extend that dangerous maxim
+even to the commerce of friendship; and it must be allowed (for
+morality, neither in small matters nor great, can gain any thing by
+suppressing the truth), it must be allowed that in the commencement
+of an intimacy the quarrels of friends may tend to increase their
+mutual regard, by affording to one or both of them opportunities of
+displaying qualities superior even to good humour; such as truth,
+fidelity, honour, or generosity. But whatever may be the sum total
+of their merit, when upon long acquaintance it comes to be fully
+known and justly appreciated, the most splendid virtues or talents
+can seldom compensate in domestic life for the want of temper. The
+fallacy of a maxim, like the absurdity of an argument, is sometimes
+best proved by pushing it as far as it can go, by observing all its
+consequences. Our heroine, in the present instance, illustrates this
+truth to admiration: her life and her husband's had now become a
+perpetual scene of disputes and reproaches; every day the quarrels
+grew more bitter, and the reconciliations less sweet.
+
+One morning, Griselda and her husband were present whilst Emma was
+busy showing some poor children how to plait straw for hats.
+
+"Next summer, my dear, when we are settled at home, I hope you will
+encourage some manufacture of this kind amongst the children of our
+tenants," said Mr. Bolingbroke to his lady.
+
+"I have no genius for teaching manufactures of this sort," replied
+Mrs. Bolingbroke, scornfully.
+
+Her husband urged the matter no farther. A few minutes afterwards, he
+drew out a straw from a bundle, which one of the children held.
+
+"This is a fine straw!" said he, carelessly.
+
+"Fine straw!" cried Mrs. Bolingbroke: "no--that is very coarse. This,"
+continued she, pulling one from another bundle; "this is a fine straw,
+if you please."
+
+"I think mine is the finest," said Mr. Bolingbroke.
+
+"Then you must be blind, Mr. Bolingbroke," cried the lady, eagerly
+comparing them.
+
+"Well, my dear," said he, laughing, "we will not dispute about
+straws."
+
+"No, indeed," said she; "but I observe whenever you know you are in
+the wrong, Mr. Bolingbroke, you say, _we will not dispute, my dear_:
+now pray look at these straws, Mrs. Granby, you that have eyes--which
+is the finest?"
+
+"I will draw lots," said Emma, taking one playfully from Mrs.
+Bolingbroke; "for it seems to me, that there is little or no
+difference between them."
+
+"No difference? Oh, my dear Emma!" said Mrs. Bolingbroke.
+
+"My dear Griselda," cried her husband, taking the other straw from her
+and blowing it away; "indeed it is not worth disputing about: this is
+too childish."
+
+"Childish!" repeated she, looking after the straw, as it floated down
+the wind; "I see nothing childish in being in the right: your raising
+your voice in that manner never convinces me. Jupiter is always in the
+wrong, you know, when he has recourse to his thunder."
+
+"Thunder, my dear Griselda, about a straw! Well, when women are
+determined to dispute, it is wonderful how ingenious they are in
+finding subjects. I give you joy, my dear, of having attained the
+perfection of the art: you can now literally dispute about straws."
+
+Emma insisted at this instant upon having an opinion about the shape
+of a hat, which she had just tied under the chin of a rosy little
+girl of six years old; upon whose smiling countenance she fixed the
+attention of the angry lady.
+
+All might now have been well; but Griselda had a pernicious habit of
+recurring to any slight words of blame which had been used by her
+friends. Her husband had congratulated her upon having attained the
+perfection of the art of disputing, since she could cavil about
+straws. This reproach rankled in her mind. There are certain diseased
+states of the body, in which the slightest wound festers, and becomes
+incurable. It is the same with the mind; and our heroine's was in this
+dangerous predicament.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+  "Que suis je?--qu'ai je fait? Que dois-je faire encore?
+  Quel transport me saisit? Quel chagrin me devore?"
+
+
+Some hours after the quarrel about the straws, when her husband
+had entirely forgotten it, and was sitting very quietly in his
+own apartment writing a letter, Griselda entered the room with a
+countenance prepared for great exploits.
+
+"Mr. Bolingbroke," she began in an awful tone of voice, "if you are at
+leisure to attend to me, I wish to speak to you upon a subject of some
+importance."
+
+"I am quite at leisure, my dear; pray sit down: what is the matter?
+you really alarm me!"
+
+"It is not my intention to alarm you, Mr. Bolingbroke," continued she
+in a still more solemn tone; "the time is past when what I have to say
+could have alarmed: I am persuaded that you will now hear it without
+emotion, or with an emotion of pleasure."
+
+She paused; he laid down his pen, and looked all expectation.
+
+"I am come to announce to you a fixed, unalterable resolution--To part
+from you, Mr. Bolingbroke."
+
+"Are you serious, my dear?"
+
+"Perfectly serious, sir."
+
+These words did not produce the revolution in her husband's
+countenance which Griselda had expected. She trembled with a mixed
+indescribable emotion of grief and rage when she heard him calmly
+reply, "Let us part, then, Griselda, if that be your wish; but let me
+be sure that it is your wish: I must have it repeated from your lips
+when you are perfectly calm."
+
+With a voice inarticulate from passion, Griselda began to assure him
+that she was perfectly calm; but he stopped her, and mildly said,
+"Take four-and-twenty hours to consider of what you are about,
+Griselda; I will be here at this time to-morrow to learn your final
+determination."
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke left the room.
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke was incapable of thinking: she could only feel.
+Conflicting passions assailed her heart. All the woman rushed upon
+her soul; she loved her husband more at this instant than she had
+ever loved him before. His firmness excited at once her anger and
+her admiration. She could not believe that she had heard his _words
+rightly_. She sat down to recall minutely every circumstance of what
+had just passed, every word, every look; she finished by persuading
+herself, that his calmness was affected, that the best method she
+could possibly take was by a show of resistance to bully him out of
+his indifference. She little knew what she hazarded; when the danger
+of losing her husband's love was imaginary, and solely of her own
+creating, it affected her in the most violent manner; but now that the
+peril was real and imminent, she was insensible to its existence.
+
+A celebrated traveller in the Alps advises people to imagine
+themselves walking amidst precipices, when they are safe upon smooth
+ground; and he assures them that by this practice they may inure
+themselves so to the idea of danger, as to prevent all sense of it in
+the most perilous situations.
+
+The four-and-twenty hours passed; and at the appointed moment our
+heroine and her husband met. As she entered the room, she observed
+that he held a book in his hand, but was not reading: he put it down,
+rose deliberately, and placed a chair for her, in silence.
+
+"I thank you, I would rather stand," said she: he put aside the chair,
+and walked to a door at the other end of the room, to examine whether
+there was any one in the adjoining apartment.
+
+"It is not necessary that what we have to say should be overheard by
+servants," said he.
+
+"I have no objection to being overheard," said Griselda: "I have
+nothing to say of which I am ashamed; and all the world must know it
+soon."
+
+As Mr. Bolingbroke returned towards her, she examined his countenance
+with an inquisitive eye. It was expressive of concern; grave, but
+calm.
+
+Whoever has seen a balloon--the reader, however impatient, must listen
+to this allusion--whoever has seen a balloon, may have observed that
+in its flaccid state it can be folded and unfolded with the greatest
+ease, and it is manageable even by a child; but when once filled, the
+force of multitudes cannot restrain, nor the art of man direct its
+course. Such is the human mind--so tractable before, so ungovernable
+after it fills with passion. By slow degrees, unnoticed by our
+heroine, the balloon had been filling. It was full; but yet it was
+held down by strong cords: it remained with her to cut or not to cut
+them.
+
+"Reflect before you speak, my dear Griselda," said her husband;
+"consider that on the words which you are going to pronounce depend
+your fate and mine."
+
+"I have reflected sufficiently," said she, "and decide, Mr.
+Bolingbroke--to part."
+
+"Be it so!" cried he; fire flashed from his eyes; he grew red and pale
+in an instant. "Be it so," repeated he, in an irrevocable voice--"We
+part for ever!"
+
+He vanished before Griselda could speak or think. She was breathless;
+her limbs trembled; she could not support herself; she sunk she knew
+not where. She certainly loved her husband better than any thing upon
+earth, except power. When she came to her senses, and perceived that
+she was alone, she felt as if she was abandoned by all the world. The
+dreadful words "for ever," still sounded in her ears. She was tempted
+to yield her humour to her affection. It was but a momentary struggle;
+the love of sway prevailed. When she came more fully to herself, she
+recurred to the belief that her husband could not be in earnest, or at
+least that he would never persist, if she had but the courage to dare
+him to the utmost.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+  "L'ai-je vu se troubler, et me plaindre un moment?
+  En ai-je pu tirer un seul gemissement?"
+
+
+Ashamed of her late weakness, our heroine rallied all her spirits, and
+resolved to meet her husband at supper with an undaunted countenance.
+Her provoking composure was admirably prepared: but it was thrown
+away, for Mr. Bolingbroke did not appear at supper. When Griselda
+retired to rest, she found a note from him on her dressing-table; she
+tore it open with a triumphant hand, certain that it came to offer
+terms of reconciliation.
+
+    "You will appoint whatever friend you think proper to settle
+    the terms of our separation. The time I desire to be as soon as
+    possible. I have not mentioned what has passed to Mr. or Mrs.
+    Granby; you will mention it to them or not, as you think fit. On
+    this point, as on all others, you will henceforward follow your
+    own discretion.
+
+    "T. BOLINGBROKE."
+
+    "Twelve o'clock;
+
+    "Saturday, Aug. 10th."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke read and re-read this note, weighed every word,
+examined every letter, and at last exclaimed aloud, "He will not,
+cannot, part from me."
+
+"He cannot be in earnest," thought she. "Either he is acting a part or
+he is in a passion. Perhaps he is instigated by Mr. Granby: no, that
+cannot be, because he says he has not mentioned it to Mr. or Mrs.
+Granby, and he always speaks the truth. If Emma had known it, she
+would have prevented him from writing such a harsh note, for she is
+such a good creature. I have a great mind to consult her; she is so
+indulgent, so soothing. But what does Mr. Bolingbroke say about her?
+He leaves me to my own discretion, to mention what has passed or not.
+That means, mention it, speak to Mrs. Granby, that she may advise you
+to submit. I will not say a word to her; I will out-general him yet.
+He cannot leave me when it comes to the trial."
+
+She sat down, and wrote instantly this answer to her husband's note:
+
+    "I agree with you entirely, that the sooner we part the better.
+    I shall write to-morrow to my friend Mrs. Nettleby, with whom I
+    choose to reside. Mr. John Nettleby is the person I fix upon to
+    settle the terms of our separation. In three days I shall have
+    Mrs. Nettleby's answer. This is Saturday: on Tuesday, then, we
+    part--for ever.
+
+    "GRISELDA BOLINGBROKE."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke summoned her maid. "Deliver this note," said she,
+"with your own hand; do not send Le Grand with it to his master."
+
+Griselda waited impatiently for her maid's return.
+
+"No answer, madam."
+
+"No answer! are you certain?"
+
+"Certain, ma'am: my master only said, 'Very well.'"
+
+"And why did not you ask him if there was any answer?"
+
+"I did, ma'am. I said, 'Is there no answer for my lady?' 'No answer,'
+said he."
+
+"Was he up?"
+
+"No, ma'am: he was in bed."
+
+"Was he asleep when you went in?"
+
+"I cannot say positively, ma'am: he undrew the curtain as I went in,
+and asked, 'Who's there?'"
+
+"Did you go in on tiptoe?"
+
+"I forget, really, ma'am."
+
+"You forget really! Idiot!"
+
+"But, ma'am, I recollect he turned his head to go to sleep as I closed
+the curtain."
+
+"You need not wait," said Mrs. Bolingbroke.
+
+Provoked beyond the power of sleep, Mrs. Bolingbroke gave free
+expression to her feelings, in an eloquent letter to Mrs. Nettleby;
+but even after this relief, Griselda could not rest; so much was she
+disturbed by the repose that her husband enjoyed, or was reputed to
+enjoy. In the morning she placed her letter in full view upon the
+mantel-piece in the drawing-room, in hopes that it would strike terror
+into the heart of her husband. To her great mortification, she saw Mr.
+Bolingbroke, with an unchanged countenance, give it to the servant,
+who came to ask for "letters for the post." She had now three days of
+grace, before Mrs. Nettleby's answer could arrive; but of these she
+disdained to take advantage: she never mentioned what had passed to
+Mrs. Granby, but persisted in the same haughty conduct towards her
+husband, persuaded that she should conquer at last.
+
+The third day came, and brought an answer from Mrs. Nettleby. After
+a prodigious parade of professions, a decent display of astonishment
+at Mr. Bolingbroke's strange conduct, and pity for her dear Griselda,
+Mrs. Nettleby came to the point, and was sorry to say, that Mr.
+Nettleby was in one of his obstinate fits, and could not be brought
+to listen to the scheme so near her heart: "He would have nothing to
+do, he said, with settling the terms of Mr. and Mrs. Bolingbroke's
+separation, not he!--He absolutely refuses to meddle between man and
+wife; and calls it meddling," continued Mrs. Nettleby, "to receive
+you as an inmate, after you have parted from your husband. Mr.
+Bolingbroke, he says, has always been very civil to him, and came to
+see him in town; therefore he will not encourage Mrs. Bolingbroke in
+her tantarums. I represented to him, that Mr. B. desires the thing,
+and leaves the choice of a residence to yourself: but Mr. Nettleby
+replied, in his brutal way, that you might choose a residence where
+you would, except in his house; that his house was his castle, and
+should never be turned into an asylum for runagate wives; that he
+would not set such an example to his own wife, &c. But," continued
+Mrs. Nettleby, "you can imagine all the foolish things he said, and I
+need not repeat them, to vex you and myself. I know that he refuses to
+receive you, my dear Mrs. Bolingbroke, on purpose to provoke me. But
+what can one do or say to such a man?--Adieu, my dear. Pray write when
+you are at leisure, and tell me how things are settled, or rather what
+is settled upon you; which, to be sure, is now the only thing that you
+have to consider.
+
+"Ever yours, affectionately,
+
+"R. H. NETTLEBY.
+
+"P.S. Before you leave Devonshire, do, my dear, get me some of the
+fine Devonshire lace; three or four dozen yards will do. I trust
+implicitly to your taste. You know I do not mind the price; only let
+it be broad, for narrow lace is my aversion."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+
+  "Lost is the dear delight of giving pain!"
+
+
+Mortified by her dear friend's affectionate letter and postscript,
+Griselda was the more determined to persist in her resolution to defy
+her husband to the utmost. The catastrophe, she thought, would always
+be in her own power; she recollected various separation scenes in
+novels and plays where the lady, after having tormented her husband or
+lover by every species of ill conduct, reforms in an instant, and a
+reconciliation is effected by some miraculous means. Our heroine had
+seen Lady Townley admirably well acted, and doubted not that she could
+now perform her part victoriously. With this hope, or rather in this
+confidence, she went in search of Mr. Bolingbroke. He was not in the
+house; he had gone out to take a solitary walk. Griselda hoped that
+she was the object of his reflections, during his lonely ramble.
+
+"Yes," said she to herself, "my power is not exhausted: I shall make
+his heart ache yet; and when he yields, how I will revenge myself!"
+
+She rang for her woman, and gave orders to have every thing
+immediately prepared for her departure. "As soon as the trunks are
+packed, let them be corded, and placed in the great hall," said she.
+
+Our heroine, who had a happy memory, full well recollected the effect
+which the sight of the corded trunks produced in the "Simple Story,"
+and she thought the stroke so good that it would bear repetition. With
+malice prepense, she therefore prepared the blow, which she flattered
+herself could not fail to astound her victim. Her pride still revolted
+from the idea of consulting Mrs. Granby; but some apology was
+requisite for thus abruptly quitting her house. Mrs. Bolingbroke began
+in a tone that seemed intended to preclude all discussion.
+
+"Mrs. Granby, do you know that Mr. Bolingbroke and I have come to a
+resolution to be happy the rest of our lives; and, for this purpose,
+we find it expedient to separate. Do not start or look so shocked,
+my dear. This word separation may sound terrible to some people,
+but I have, thank Heaven! sufficient strength of mind to hear it
+with perfect composure. When a couple who are chained together pull
+different ways, the sooner they break their chain the better. I shall
+set out immediately for Weymouth. You will excuse me, my dear Mrs.
+Granby; you see the necessity of the case."
+
+Mrs. Granby, with the most delicate kindness, began to expostulate;
+but Griselda declared that she was incapable of using a friend so
+ill as to pretend to listen to advice, when her mind was determined
+irrevocably. Emma had no intention, she said, of obtruding her advice,
+but she wished that Mrs. Bolingbroke would give her own excellent
+understanding time to act, and that she would not throw away the
+happiness of her life in a fit of passion. Mrs. Bolingbroke protested
+that she never was freer from passion of every sort than she was at
+this moment. With an unusually placid countenance, she turned from
+Mrs. Granby and sat down to the piano-forte. "We shall not agree if
+I talk any more upon this subject," continued she, "therefore I had
+better sing. I believe my music is better than my logic: at all events
+I prefer music."
+
+In a fine _bravura_ style Griselda then began to sing--
+
+  "What have I to do with thee,
+  Dull, unjoyous constancy?" &c.
+
+And afterwards she played all her gayest airs to convince Mrs. Granby
+that her heart was quite at ease. She continued playing for an
+unconscionable time, with the most provoking perseverance.
+
+Emma stood at the window, watching for Mr. Bolingbroke's return.
+"Here comes Mr. Bolingbroke!--How melancholy he looks!--Oh, my dear
+Griselda," cried she, stopping Mrs. Bolingbroke's hand as it ran gaily
+over the keys, "this is no time for mirth or bravado: let me conjure
+you--"
+
+"I hate to be conjured," interrupted Griselda, breaking from her; "I
+am not a child, to be coaxed and kissed and sugar-plummed into being
+good, and behaving prettily. Do me the favour to let Mr. Bolingbroke
+know that I am in the study, and desire to speak to him for one
+minute."
+
+No power could detain the peremptory lady: she took her way to the
+study, and rejoiced as she crossed the hall, to see the trunks placed
+as she had ordered. It was impossible that her husband could
+avoid seeing them the moment he should enter the house.--What a
+satisfaction!--Griselda seated herself at ease in an arm-chair in
+the study, and took up a book which lay open on the table. Mr.
+Bolingbroke's pencil-case was in it, and the following passage was
+marked:
+
+"Il y a un lieu sur la terre ou les joies pures sont inconnues; d'ou
+la politesse est exilee et fait place a l'egoisme, a la contradiction,
+aux injures a demivoilees; le remords et l'inquietude, furies
+infatigables, y tourmentent les habitans. Ce lieu est la maison de
+deux epoux qui ne peuvent ni s'estimer, ni s'aimer.
+
+"Il y a un lieu sur la terre ou le vice ne s'introduit pas, ou les
+passions tristes n'ont jamais d'empire, ou le plaisir et l'innocence
+habitent toujours ensemble, ou les soins sont chers, ou les travaux
+sont doux, ou les peines s'oublient dans les entretiens, ou l'on jouit
+du passe, du present, de l'avenir; et c'est la maison de deux epoux
+qui s'aiment."[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: M. de Saint Lambert, Oeuvres Philosophiques, tome ii.]
+
+A pang of remorse seized Griselda, as she read these words; they
+seemed to have been written on purpose for her. Struck with the sense
+of her own folly, she paused--she doubted;--but then she thought that
+she had gone too far to recede. Her pride could not bear the idea of
+acknowledging that she had been wrong, or of seeking reconcilement.
+
+"I could live very happily with this man; but then to yield the
+victory to him!--and to reform!--No, no--all reformed heroines are
+stupid and odious."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+
+  "And, vanquish'd, quit victoriously the field."
+
+
+Griselda flung the book from her as her husband entered the room.
+
+"You have had an answer, madam, from your friend, Mrs. Nettleby, I
+perceive," said he, calmly.
+
+"I have, sir. Family reasons prevent her from receiving me at present;
+therefore I have determined upon going to Weymouth; where, indeed, I
+always wished to spend this summer."
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke evinced no surprise, and made not the slightest
+opposition. Mrs. Bolingbroke was so much vexed, that she could
+scarcely command her countenance: she bit her lip violently.
+
+"With respect to any arrangements that are to be made, I am to
+understand that you wish me to address myself to Mr. J. Nettleby,"
+said her husband.
+
+"No, to myself, if you please; I am prepared to listen, sir, to
+whatever you may have to propose."
+
+"These things are always settled best in writing," replied Mr.
+Bolingbroke. "Be so obliging as to leave me your direction, and you
+shall hear from me, or from Mrs. Granby, in a few days."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke hastily wrote a direction upon a card, and put it
+into her husband's hand, with as much unconcern as she could maintain.
+Mr. Bolingbroke continued, precisely in the same tone: "If you have
+any thing to suggest, that may contribute to your future convenience,
+madam, you will be so good as to leave a memorandum with me, to which
+I shall attend."
+
+He placed a sheet of paper before Mrs. Bolingbroke, and put a pen into
+her hand. She made an effort to write, but her hand trembled so that
+she could not form a letter. Her husband took up Saint Lambert, and
+read, or seemed to read.--"Open the window, Mr. Bolingbroke," said
+she. He obeyed, but did not, as formerly, "hang over her enamoured."
+He had been so often duped by her fainting-fits and hysterics, that
+now, when she suffered in earnest, he suspected her of artifice. He
+took up his book again, and marked a page with his pencil. She wrote
+a line with a hurried hand, then starting up, flung her pen from her,
+and exclaimed--"I need not, will not write; I have no request to make
+to you, Mr. Bolingbroke; do what you will; I have no wishes, no wish
+upon earth--but to leave you."
+
+"That wish will be soon accomplished, madam," replied he, unmoved.
+
+She pulled the bell till it broke.--A servant appeared.
+
+"My carriage to the door directly, if you please, sir," cried she.
+
+A pause ensued. Griselda sat swelling with unutterable
+rage.--"Heavens! have you no feeling left?" exclaimed she, snatching
+the book from his hand; "have you no feeling left, Mr. Bolingbroke,
+for any thing?"
+
+"You have left me none for some things, Mrs. Bolingbroke, and I thank
+you. All this would have broken my heart six months ago."
+
+"You have no heart to break," cried she.--The carriage drove to the
+door.
+
+"One word more, before I leave you for ever, Mr. Bolingbroke,"
+continued she.--"Blame yourself, not me, for all this.--When we were
+first married, you humoured, you spoiled me; no temper could bear
+it.--Take the consequences of your own weak indulgence.--Farewell."
+
+He made no effort to retain her, and she left the room.
+
+  ----"Thus it shall befall
+  Him who to worth in woman overtrusting
+  Lets tier will rule: restraint she will not brook;
+  And left to herself, if evil thence ensue,
+  She first his _weak indulgence_ will accuse."
+
+A confused recollection of this warning of Adam's was in Mr.
+Bolingbroke's head at this moment.
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke's carriage drove by the window, and she kissed her
+hand to him as she passed. He had not sufficient presence of mind
+to return the compliment. Our heroine enjoyed this last triumph of
+superior temper.
+
+Whether the victory was worth the winning, whether the modern Griselda
+persisted in her spirited sacrifice of happiness, whether she was
+ever reconciled to her husband, or whether the fear of "reforming
+and growing stupid" prevailed, are questions which we leave to the
+sagacity or the curiosity of her fair contemporaries.
+
+  "He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
+  Let him now speak, 'tis charity to shew."
+
+
+END OF VOLUME VI
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES AND NOVELS, VOL. 6 ***
+
+This file should be named 7tal610.txt or 7tal610.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7tal611.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7tal610a.txt
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext05 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext05
+
+Or /etext04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92,
+91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+ PROJECT GUTENBERG LITERARY ARCHIVE FOUNDATION
+ 809 North 1500 West
+ Salt Lake City, UT 84116
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/7tal610.zip b/old/7tal610.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ff6379
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/7tal610.zip
diff --git a/old/8tal610.txt b/old/8tal610.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4d5b2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/8tal610.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,19969 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales and Novels, Vol. 6, by Maria Edgeworth
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Tales and Novels, Vol. 6
+
+Author: Maria Edgeworth
+
+Release Date: January, 2006  [EBook #9620]
+[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES AND NOVELS, VOL. 6 ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TALES AND NOVELS
+
+VOL. 6
+
+BY
+
+MARIA EDGEWORTH
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ABSENTEE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"Are you to be at Lady Clonbrony's gala next week?" said Lady Langdale
+to Mrs. Dareville, whilst they were waiting for their carriages in the
+crush-room of the opera-house.
+
+"Oh, yes! every body's to be there, I hear," replied Mrs. Dareville.
+"Your ladyship, of course?"
+
+"Why, I don't know; if I possibly can. Lady Clonbrony makes it such
+a point with me, that I believe I must look in upon her for a few
+minutes. They are going to a prodigious expense on this occasion. Soho
+tells me the reception rooms are all to be new furnished, and in the
+most magnificent style."
+
+"At what a famous rate those Clonbronies are dashing on," said colonel
+Heathcock. "Up to any thing."
+
+"Who are they?--these Clonbronies, that one hears of so much of
+late?" said her grace of Torcaster. "Irish absentees, I know. But
+how do they support all this enormous expense?" "The son _will_ have
+a prodigiously fine estate when some Mr. Quin dies," said Mrs.
+Dareville.
+
+"Yes, every body who comes from Ireland _will_ have a fine estate when
+somebody dies," said her grace. "But what have they at present?"
+
+"Twenty thousand a year, they say," replied Mrs. Dareville.
+
+"Ten thousand, I believe," cried Lady Langdale.
+
+"Ten thousand, have they?--possibly," said her grace. "I know nothing
+about them--have no acquaintance among the Irish. Torcaster knows
+something of Lady Clonbrony; she has fastened herself by some means
+upon him; but I charge him not to _commit_ me. Positively, I could not
+for any body, and much less for that sort of person, extend the circle
+of my acquaintance."
+
+"Now that is so cruel of your grace," said Mrs. Dareville, laughing,
+"when poor Lady Clonbrony works so hard, and pays so high to get into
+certain circles."
+
+"If you knew all she endures, to look, speak, move, breathe, like an
+Englishwoman, you would pity her," said Lady Langdale.
+
+"Yes, and you _cawnt_ conceive the _peens_ she _teekes_ to talk of the
+_teebles_ and _cheers_, and to thank Q, and with so much _teeste_ to
+speak pure English," said Mrs. Dareville.
+
+"Pure cockney, you mean," said Lady Langdale.
+
+"But does Lady Clonbrony expect to pass for English?" said the
+duchess.
+
+"Oh, yes! because she is not quite Irish _bred and born_--only bred,
+not born," said Mrs. Dareville. "And she could not be five minutes
+in your grace's company, before she would tell you that she was
+_Henglish_, born in _Hoxfordshire_."
+
+"She must be a vastly amusing personage--I should like to meet her
+if one could see and hear her incog.," said the duchess. "And Lord
+Clonbrony, what is he?"
+
+"Nothing, nobody," said Mrs. Dareville: "one never even hears of him."
+
+"A tribe of daughters, too, I suppose?"
+
+"No, no," said Lady Langdale; "daughters would be past all endurance."
+
+"There's a cousin, though, a Miss Nugent," said Mrs. Dareville, "that
+Lady Clonbrony has with her."
+
+"Best part of her, too," said Colonel Heathcock--"d----d fine
+girl!--never saw her look better than at the opera to-night!"
+
+"Fine _complexion_! as Lady Clonbrony says, when she means a high
+colour," said Lady Langdale.
+
+"Miss Nugent is not a lady's beauty," said Mrs. Dareville. "Has she
+any fortune, colonel?"
+
+"'Pon honour, don't know," said the colonel.
+
+"There's a son, somewhere, is not there?" said Lady Langdale.
+
+"Don't know, 'pon honour," replied the colonel.
+
+"Yes--at Cambridge--not of age yet," said Mrs. Dareville. "Bless me!
+here is Lady Clonbrony come back. I thought she was gone half an hour
+ago!"
+
+"Mamma," whispered one of Lady Langdale's daughters, leaning between
+her mother and Mrs. Dareville, "who is that gentleman that passed us
+just now?"
+
+"Which way?"
+
+"Towards the door.--There now, mamma, you can see him. He is speaking
+to Lady Clonbrony--to Miss Nugent--now Lady Clonbrony is introducing
+him to Miss Broadhurst."
+
+"I see him now," said Lady Langdale, examining him through her glass;
+"a very gentlemanlike looking young man indeed."
+
+"Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner," said her grace.
+
+"Heathcock!" said Lady Langdale, "who is Miss Broadhurst talking to?"
+
+"Eh! now really--'pon honour--don't know," replied Heathcock.
+
+"And yet he certainly looks like somebody one should know," pursued
+Lady Langdale, "though I don't recollect seeing him any where before."
+
+"Really now!" was all the satisfaction she could gain from the
+insensible, immovable colonel. However, her ladyship, after sending
+a whisper along the line, gained the desired information, that the
+young gentleman was Lord Colambre, son, only son, of Lord and Lady
+Clonbrony--that he was just come from Cambridge--that he was not yet
+of age--that he would be of age within a year; that he would then,
+after the death of somebody, come into possession of a fine estate
+by the mother's side; "and therefore, Cat'rine, my dear," said she,
+turning round to the daughter who had first pointed him out, "you
+understand we should never talk about other people's affairs."
+
+"No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma, Lord Colambre did not
+hear what you and Mrs. Dareville were saying!"
+
+"How could he, child?--He was quite at the other end of the world."
+
+"I beg your pardon, ma'am--he was at my elbow, close behind us; but I
+never thought about him till I heard somebody say 'my lord--'"
+
+"Good heavens!--I hope he didn't hear."
+
+"But, for my part, I said nothing," cried Lady Langdale.
+
+"And for my part, I said nothing but what every body knows," cried
+Mrs. Dareville.
+
+"And for my part, I am guilty only of hearing," said the duchess. "Do,
+pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the goodness to see what my people are
+about, and what chance we have of getting away to-night."
+
+"The Duchess of Torcaster's carriage stops the way!"--a joyful sound
+to Colonel Heathcock and to her grace, and not less agreeable, at this
+instant, to Lady Langdale, who, the moment she was disembarrassed
+of the duchess, pressed through the crowd to Lady Clonbrony, and
+addressing her with smiles and complacency, was charmed to have a
+little moment to speak to her--could _not_ sooner get through the
+crowd--would certainly do herself the honour to be at her ladyship's
+gala. While Lady Langdale spoke, she never seemed to see or think of
+any body but Lady Clonbrony, though, all the time, she was intent upon
+every motion of Lord Colambre; and whilst she was obliged to listen
+with a face of sympathy to a long complaint of Lady Clonbrony's,
+about Mr. Soho's want of taste in ottomans, she was vexed to perceive
+that his lordship showed no desire to be introduced to her or to
+her daughters; but, on the contrary, was standing talking to Miss
+Nugent. His mother, at the end of her speech, looked round for
+"Colambre"--called him twice before he heard--introduced him to Lady
+Langdale, and to Lady Cat'rine, and Lady Anne ----, and to Mrs.
+Dareville; to all of whom he bowed with an air of proud coldness,
+which gave them reason to regret that their remarks upon his mother
+and his family had not been made _sotto voce_.
+
+"Lady Langdale's carriage stops the way!" Lord Colambre made no offer
+of his services, notwithstanding a look from his mother. Incapable of
+the meanness of voluntarily listening to a conversation not intended
+for him to hear, he had, however, been compelled, by the pressure
+of the crowd, to remain a few minutes stationary, where he could not
+avoid hearing the remarks of the fashionable friends: disdaining
+dissimulation, he made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. Perhaps
+his vexation was increased by his consciousness that there was some
+mixture of truth in their sarcasms. He was sensible that his mother,
+in some points--her manners, for instance--was obvious to ridicule and
+satire. In Lady Clonbrony's address there was a mixture of constraint,
+affectation, and indecision, unusual in a person of her birth, rank,
+and knowledge of the world. A natural and unnatural manner seemed
+struggling in all her gestures, and in every syllable that she
+articulated--a naturally free, familiar, good-natured, precipitate,
+Irish manner, had been schooled, and schooled late in life, into a
+sober, cold, still, stiff deportment, which she mistook for English.
+A strong Hibernian accent she had, with infinite difficulty, changed
+into an English tone. Mistaking reverse of wrong for right, she
+caricatured the English pronunciation; and the extraordinary precision
+of her London phraseology betrayed her not to be a Londoner, as the
+man who strove to pass for an Athenian was detected by his Attic
+dialect. Not aware of her real danger, Lady Clonbrony was, on the
+opposite side, in continual apprehension every time she opened her
+lips, lest some treacherous _a_ or _e_, some strong _r_, some puzzling
+aspirate or non-aspirate, some unguarded note, interrogative, or
+expostulatory, should betray her to be an Irishwoman. Mrs. Dareville
+had, in her mimicry, perhaps, a little exaggerated, as to the
+_teebles_ and _cheers_, but still the general likeness of the
+representation of Lady Clonbrony was strong enough to strike and vex
+her son. He had now, for the first time, an opportunity of judging of
+the estimation in which his mother and his family were held by certain
+leaders of the ton, of whom, in her letters, she had spoken so much,
+and into whose society, or rather into whose parties, she had been
+admitted. He saw that the renegado cowardice with which she denied,
+abjured, and reviled her own country, gained nothing but ridicule and
+contempt. He loved his mother; and, whilst he endeavoured to conceal
+her faults and foibles as much as possible from his own heart, he
+could not endure those who dragged them to light and ridicule. The
+next morning, the first thing that occurred to Lord Colambre's
+remembrance, when he awoke, was the sound of the contemptuous emphasis
+which had been laid on the words IRISH ABSENTEES!--This led to
+recollections of his native country, to comparisons of past and
+present scenes, to future plans of life. Young and careless as he
+seemed, Lord Colambre was capable of serious reflection. Of naturally
+quick and strong capacity, ardent affections, impetuous temper, the
+early years of his childhood passed at his father's castle in Ireland,
+where, from the lowest servant to the well-dressed dependent of the
+family, every body had conspired to wait upon, to fondle, to flatter,
+to worship, this darling of their lord. Yet he was not spoiled--not
+rendered selfish; for in the midst of this flattery and servility,
+some strokes of genuine generous affection had gone home to his little
+heart: and though unqualified submission had increased the natural
+impetuosity of his temper, and though visions of his future grandeur
+had touched his infant thought, yet, fortunately, before he acquired
+any fixed habits of insolence or tyranny, he was carried far away
+from all that were bound or willing to submit to his commands, far
+away from all signs of hereditary grandeur--plunged into one of our
+great public schools--into a new world. Forced to struggle, mind and
+body, with his equals, his rivals, the little lord became a spirited
+school-boy, and in time, a man. Fortunately for him, science and
+literature happened to be the fashion among a set of clever young
+men with whom he was at Cambridge. His ambition for intellectual
+superiority was raised, his views were enlarged, his tastes and
+his manners formed. The sobriety of English good sense mixed most
+advantageously with Irish vivacity: English prudence governed, but did
+not extinguish, his Irish enthusiasm. But, in fact, English and Irish
+had not been invidiously contrasted in his mind: he had been so long
+resident in England, and so intimately connected with Englishmen, that
+he was not obvious to any of the commonplace ridicule thrown upon
+Hibernians; and he had lived with men who were too well informed and
+liberal to misjudge or depreciate a sister country. He had found, from
+experience, that, however reserved the English may be in manner, they
+are warm at heart; that, however averse they may be from forming new
+acquaintance, their esteem and confidence once gained, they make the
+most solid friends. He had formed friendships in England; he was fully
+sensible of the superior comforts, refinement, and information, of
+English society; but his own country was endeared to him by early
+association, and a sense of duty and patriotism attached him to
+Ireland.--"And shall I too be an absentee?" was a question which
+resulted from these reflections--a question which he was not yet
+prepared to answer decidedly.
+
+In the mean time, the first business of the morning was to execute
+a commission for a Cambridge friend. Mr. Berryl had bought from Mr.
+Mordicai, a famous London coachmaker, a curricle, _warranted sound_,
+for which he had paid a sound price, upon express condition that Mr.
+Mordicai should be answerable for all repairs of the curricle for six
+months. In three, both the carriage and body were found to be good for
+nothing--the curricle had been returned to Mordicai--nothing had since
+been heard of it, or from him; and Lord Colambre had undertaken to pay
+him and it a visit, and to make all proper inquiries. Accordingly,
+he went to the coachmaker's; and, obtaining no satisfaction from the
+underlings, desired to see the head of the house. He was answered
+that Mr. Mordicai was not at home. His lordship had never seen Mr.
+Mordicai; but just then he saw, walking across the yard, a man who
+looked something like a Bond-street coxcomb, but not the least like a
+gentleman, who called, in the tone of a master, for "Mr. Mordicai's
+barouche!"--It appeared; and he was stepping into it, when Lord
+Colambre took the liberty of stopping him; and, pointing to the wreck
+of Mr. Berryl's curricle, now standing in the yard, began a statement
+of his friend's grievances, and an appeal to common justice and
+conscience, which he, unknowing the nature of the man with whom he had
+to deal, imagined must be irresistible. Mr. Mordicai stood without
+moving a muscle of his dark wooden face--indeed, in his face there
+appeared to be no muscles, or none which could move; so that, though
+he had what are generally called handsome features, there was,
+altogether, something unnatural and shocking in his countenance. When,
+at last, his eyes turned and his lips opened, this seemed to be done
+by machinery, and not by the will of a living creature, or from the
+impulse of a rational soul. Lord Colambre was so much struck with
+this strange physiognomy, that he actually forgot much he had to say
+of springs and wheels--But it was no matter--Whatever he had said, it
+would have come to the same thing; and Mordicai would have answered
+as he now did; "Sir, it was my partner made that bargain, not myself;
+and I don't hold myself bound by it, for he is the sleeping partner
+only, and not empowered to act in the way of business. Had Mr. Berryl
+bargained with me, I should have told him that he should have looked
+to these things before his carriage went out of our yard."
+
+The indignation of Lord Colambre kindled at these words--but in vain:
+to all that indignation could by word or look urge against Mordicai,
+he replied, "May be so, sir: the law is open to your friend--the law
+is open to all men, who can pay for it."
+
+Lord Colambre turned in despair from the callous coachmaker, and
+listened to one of his more compassionate-looking workmen, who was
+reviewing the disabled curricle; and, whilst he was waiting to know
+the sum of his friend's misfortune, a fat, jolly, Falstaff-looking
+personage came into the yard, and accosted Mordicai with a degree of
+familiarity which, from a gentleman, appeared to Lord Colambre to be
+almost impossible.
+
+"How are you, Mordicai, my good fellow?" cried he, speaking with a
+strong Irish accent.
+
+"Who is this?" whispered Lord Colambre to the foreman, who was
+examining the curricle.
+
+"Sir Terence O'Fay, sir--There must be entire new wheels."
+
+"Now tell me, my tight fellow," continued Sir Terence, holding
+Mordicai fast, "when, in the name of all the saints, good or bad, in
+the calendar, do you reckon to let us sport the _suicide_?"
+
+"Will you be so good, sir, to finish making out this estimate for me?"
+interrupted Lord Colambre.
+
+Mordicai forcibly drew his mouth into what he meant for a smile, and
+answered, "As soon as possible, Sir Terence." Sir Terence, in a tone
+of jocose, wheedling expostulation, entreated him to have the carriage
+finished _out of hand_: "Ah, now! Mordy, my precious! let us have it
+by the birthday, and come and dine with us o' Monday at the Hibernian
+Hotel--there's a rare one--will you?"
+
+Mordicai accepted the invitation, and promised faithfully that the
+_suicide_ should be finished by the birthday. Sir Terence shook hands
+upon this promise, and, after telling a good story, which made one of
+the workmen in the yard--an Irishman--grin with delight, walked off.
+Mordicai, first waiting till the knight was out of hearing, called
+aloud, "You grinning rascal! mind, at your peril, and don't let that
+there carriage be touched, d'ye see, till farther orders."
+
+One of Mr. Mordicai's clerks, with a huge long feathered pen behind
+his ear, observed that Mr. Mordicai was right in that caution, for
+that, to the best of his comprehension, Sir Terence O'Fay, and his
+principal too, were over head and ears in debt.
+
+Mordicai coolly answered, that he was well aware of that, but that the
+estate could afford to dip farther; that, for his part, he was under
+no apprehension; he knew how to look sharp, and to bite before he was
+bit: that he knew Sir Terence and his principal were leagued together
+to give the creditors _the go by_; but that, clever as they were both
+at that work, he trusted he was their match.
+
+"Immediately, sir--Sixty-nine pound four, and the perch--Let us
+see--Mr. Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy, about Sir Terence," said the
+foreman, pointing back over his shoulder to the Irish workman, who
+was at this moment pretending to be wondrous hard at work. However,
+when Mr. Mordicai defied him to tell him any thing he did not know,
+Paddy, parting with an untasted bit of tobacco, began and recounted
+some of Sir Terence O'Fay's exploits in evading duns, replevying
+cattle, fighting sheriffs, bribing _subs_, managing cants, tricking
+_custodees_, in language so strange, and with a countenance and
+gestures so full of enjoyment of the jest, that, whilst Mordicai
+stood for a moment aghast with astonishment, Lord Colambre could
+not help laughing, partly at, and partly with, his countryman. All
+the yard were in a roar of laughter, though they did not understand
+half of what they heard; but their risible muscles were acted upon
+mechanically, or maliciously, merely by the sound of the Irish brogue.
+
+Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed, that "the
+law is executed in another guess sort of way in England from what it
+is in Ireland;" therefore, for his part, he desired nothing better
+than to set his wits fairly against such _sharks_--that there was a
+pleasure in doing up a debtor, which none but a creditor could know.
+
+"In a moment, sir; if you'll have a moment's patience, sir, if you
+please," said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre; "I must go down the
+pounds once more, and then I'll let you have it."
+
+"I'll tell you what, Smithfield," continued Mr. Mordicai, coming close
+beside his foreman, and speaking very low, but with a voice trembling
+with anger, for he was piqued by his foreman's doubts of his capacity
+to cope with Sir Terence O'Fay; "I'll tell you what, Smithfield, I'll
+be cursed if I don't get every inch of them into my power--you know
+how."
+
+"You are the best judge, sir," replied the foreman; "but I would not
+undertake Sir Terence; and the question is, whether the estate will
+answer the _tote_ of the debts, and whether you know them all for
+certain--"
+
+"I do, sir, I tell you: there's Green--there's Blancham--there's
+Gray--there's Soho"--naming several more--"and, to my knowledge, Lord
+Clonbrony--"
+
+"Stop, sir," cried Lord Colambre, in a voice which made Mordicai and
+every body present start;--"I am his son--"
+
+"The devil!" said Mordicai.
+
+"God bless every bone in his body, then, he's an Irishman!" cried
+Paddy; "and there was the _ra_son my heart warmed to him from the
+first minute he come into the yard, though I did not know it till
+now."
+
+"What, sir! are you my Lord Colambre?" said Mr. Mordicai, recovering,
+but not clearly recovering, his intellects: "I beg pardon, but I did
+not know you _was_ Lord Colambre--I thought you told me you was the
+friend of Mr. Berryl."
+
+"I do not see the incompatibility of the assertion, sir," replied Lord
+Colambre, taking from the bewildered foreman's unresisting hand the
+account which he had been so long _furnishing_.
+
+"Give me leave, my lord," said Mordicai--"I beg your pardon, my lord;
+perhaps we can compromise that business for your friend Mr. Berryl;
+since he is your lordship's friend, perhaps we can contrive to
+_compromise_ and _split the difference_."
+
+_To compromise_, and _split the difference_, Mordicai thought were
+favourite phrases, and approved Hibernian modes of doing business,
+which would conciliate this young Irish nobleman, and dissipate the
+proud tempest, which had gathered, and now swelled in his breast.
+
+"No, sir, no!" cried Lord Colambre, holding firm the paper: "I want no
+favour from you. I will accept of none for my friend or for myself."
+
+"Favour! No, my lord, I should not presume to offer--But I should
+wish, if you'll allow me, to do your friend justice."
+
+Lord Colambre, recollecting that he had no right, in his pride, to
+fling away his friend's money, let Mr. Mordicai look at the account;
+and his impetuous temper in a few moments recovered by good sense, he
+considered, that, as his person was utterly unknown to Mr. Mordicai,
+no offence could have been intended to him, and that, perhaps, in what
+had been said of his father's debts and distress, there might be more
+truth than he was aware of. Prudently, therefore, controlling his
+feelings, and commanding himself, he suffered Mr. Mordicai to show him
+into a parlour to _settle_ his friend's business. In a few minutes the
+account was reduced to a reasonable form, and, in consideration of the
+partner's having made the bargain, by which Mr. Mordicai felt himself
+influenced in honour, though not bound in law, he undertook to have
+the curricle made better than new again, for Mr. Berryl, for twenty
+guineas. Then came awkward apologies to Lord Colambre, which he ill
+endured. "Between ourselves, my lord," continued Mordicai--
+
+But the familiarity of the phrase. "Between ourselves"--this
+implication of equality--Lord Colambre could not admit: he moved
+hastily towards the door, and departed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Full of what he had heard, and impatient to obtain farther information
+respecting the state of his father's affairs, Lord Colambre hastened
+home; but his father was out, and his mother was engaged with Mr.
+Soho, directing, or rather being directed, how her apartments should
+be fitted up for her gala. As Lord Colambre entered the room, he saw
+his mother, Miss Nugent, and Mr. Soho, standing at a large table,
+which was covered with rolls of paper, patterns, and drawings of
+furniture: Mr. Soho was speaking in a conceited, dictatorial tone,
+asserting that there was no "colour in nature for that room equal to
+_the belly-o'-the fawn_;" which _belly-o'-the fawn_ he so pronounced,
+that Lady Clonbrony understood it to be _la belle uniforme_, and,
+under this mistake, repeated and assented to the assertion, till it
+was set to rights, with condescending superiority, by the upholsterer.
+This first architectural upholsterer of the age, as he styled himself,
+and was universally admitted to be by all the world of fashion, then,
+with full powers given to him, spoke _en maître_. The whole face of
+things must be changed. There must be new hangings, new draperies, new
+cornices, new candelabras, new every thing!--
+
+  "The upholsterer's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
+  Glances from ceiling to floor, from floor to ceiling;
+  And, as imagination bodies forth
+  The form of things unknown, the upholsterer's pencil
+  Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
+  A local habitation and a NAME."
+
+Of the value of a NAME no one could be more sensible than Mr. Soho.
+
+"Your la'ship sees--this is merely a scratch of my pencil. Your
+la'ship's sensible--just to give you an idea of the shape, the form
+of the thing. You fill up your angles here with _encoinières_--round
+your walls with the _Turkish tent drapery_--a fancy of my own--in
+apricot cloth, or crimson velvet, suppose, or, _en flute_, in
+crimson satin draperies, fanned and riched with gold fringes, _en
+suite_--intermediate spaces, Apollo's head with gold rays--and here,
+ma'am, you place four _chancelières_, with chimeras at the corners,
+covered with blue silk and silver fringe, elegantly fanciful--with
+my STATIRA CANOPY here--light blue silk draperies--aërial tint, with
+silver balls--and for seats here, the SERAGLIO OTTOMANS, superfine
+scarlet--your paws--griffin--golden--and golden tripods, here, with
+antique cranes--and oriental alabaster tables here and there--quite
+appropriate, your la'ship feels.
+
+"And let me reflect. For the next apartment, it strikes me--as your
+la'ship don't value expense--the _Alhambra hangings_--my own thought
+entirely--Now, before I unrol them, Lady Clonbrony, I must beg you'll
+not mention I've shown them. I give you my sacred honour, not a
+soul has set eye upon the Alhambra hangings except Mrs. Dareville,
+who stole a peep; I refused, absolutely refused, the Duchess of
+Torcaster--but I can't refuse your la'ship--So see, ma'am--
+(unrolling them)--scagliola porphyry columns supporting the grand
+dome--entablature, silvered and decorated with imitative bronze
+ornaments: under the entablature, a _valence in pelmets_, of puffed
+scarlet silk, would have an unparalleled grand effect, seen through
+the arches--with the TREBISOND TRELLICE PAPER, Would make a _tout
+ensemble_, novel beyond example. On that trebisond trellice paper, I
+confess, ladies, I do pique myself.
+
+"Then, for the little room, I recommend turning it temporarily into a
+Chinese pagoda, with this _Chinese pagoda paper_, with the _porcelain
+border_, and josses, and jars, and beakers, to match; and I can
+venture to promise one vase of pre-eminent size and beauty.--Oh,
+indubitably! if your la'ship prefers it, you can have the _Egyptian
+hieroglyphic paper_, with the _ibis border_ to match!--The only
+objection is, one sees it every where--quite antediluvian--gone to
+the hotels even; but, to be sure, if your la'ship has a fancy--at
+all events, I humbly recommend, what her grace of Torcaster longs to
+patronise, my MOON CURTAINS, with candlelight draperies. A demi-saison
+elegance this--I hit off yesterday--and--True, your la'ship's quite
+correct--out of the common completely. And, of course, you'd have
+the _sphynx candelabras_, and the phoenix argands--Oh! nothing else
+lights now, ma'am!--Expense!--Expense of the whole!--Impossible to
+calculate here on the spot!--but nothing at all worth your ladyship's
+consideration!"
+
+At another moment, Lord Colambre might have been amused with all this
+rhodomontade, and with the airs and voluble conceit of the orator;
+but, after what he had heard at Mr. Mordicai's, this whole scene
+struck him more with melancholy than with mirth. He was alarmed by the
+prospect of new and unbounded expense; provoked, almost past enduring,
+by the jargon and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and
+vexed to the heart, to see his mother the dupe, the sport of such a
+coxcomb.
+
+"Prince of puppies!--Insufferable!--My own mother!" Lord Colambre
+repeated to himself, as he walked hastily up and down the room.
+
+"Colambre, won't you let us have your judgment--your _teeste_?" said
+his mother.
+
+"Excuse me, ma'am--I have no taste, no judgment in these things."
+
+He sometimes paused, and looked at Mr. Soho, with a strong inclination
+to--. But knowing that he should say too much if he said any thing, he
+was silent; never dared to approach the council table--but continued
+walking up and down the room, till he heard a voice which at once
+arrested his attention and soothed his ire. He approached the table
+instantly, and listened, whilst Miss Nugent said every thing he wished
+to have said, and with all the propriety and delicacy with which he
+thought he could not have spoken. He leaned on the table, and fixed
+his eyes upon her--years ago he had seen his cousin--last night he had
+thought her handsome, pleasing, graceful--but now he saw a new person,
+or he saw her in a new light. He marked the superior intelligence,
+the animation, the eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst
+alternately, with arch raillery, or grave humour, she played off Mr.
+Soho, and made him magnify the ridicule, till it was apparent even
+to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the anxiety lest his mother should
+expose her own foibles; he was touched by the respectful, earnest
+kindness--the soft tones of persuasion with which she addressed
+her--the care not to presume upon her own influence--the good sense,
+the taste, she showed, yet not displaying her superiority--the
+address, temper, and patience, with which she at last accomplished
+her purpose, and prevented Lady Clonbrony from doing any thing
+preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.
+
+Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was ended--when Mr.
+Soho departed--for Miss Nugent was then silent; and it was necessary
+to remove his eyes from that countenance on which he had gazed
+unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her
+charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her without her
+perceiving it--she seemed so intent upon others as totally to forget
+herself. The whole train of Lord Colambre's thoughts was so completely
+deranged, that, although he was sensible there was something of
+importance he had to say to his mother, yet when Mr. Soho's departure
+left him opportunity to speak, he stood silent, unable to recollect
+any thing but--Grace Nugent.
+
+When Miss Nugent left the room, after some minutes' silence, and some
+effort, Lord Colambre said to his mother, "Pray, madam, do you know
+any thing of Sir Terence O'Fay?"
+
+"I!" said Lady Clonbrony, drawing up her head proudly; "I know he is a
+person I cannot endure. He is no friend of mine, I can assure you--nor
+any such sort of person."
+
+"I thought it was impossible!" cried Lord Colambre, with exultation.
+
+"I only wish your father, Colambre, could say as much," added Lady
+Clonbrony.
+
+Lord Colambre's countenance fell again; and again he was silent for
+some time.
+
+"Does my father dine at home, ma'am?"
+
+"I suppose not; he seldom dines at home."
+
+"Perhaps, ma'am, my father may have some cause to be uneasy about--"
+
+"About?" said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone, and with a look of curiosity,
+which convinced her son that she knew nothing of his debts or
+distresses, if he had any. "About what?" repeated her ladyship.
+
+Here was no receding, and Lord Colambre never had recourse to
+artifice.
+
+"About his affairs, I was going to say, madam. But, since you know
+nothing of any difficulties or embarrassments, I am persuaded that
+none exist."
+
+"Nay, I _cawnt_ tell you that, Colambre. There are difficulties for
+ready money, I confess, when I ask for it, which surprise me often. I
+know nothing of affairs--ladies of a certain rank seldom do, you know.
+But, considering your father's estate, and the fortune I brought him,"
+added her ladyship, proudly, "I _cawnt_ conceive it at all. Grace
+Nugent, indeed, often talks to me of embarrassments and economy; but
+that, poor thing! is very natural for her, because her fortune is not
+particularly large, and she has left it all, or almost all, in her
+uncle and guardian's hands. I know she's often distressed for odd
+money to lend me, and that makes her anxious."
+
+"Is not Miss Nugent very much admired, ma'am, in London?"
+
+"Of course--in the company she is in, you know, she has every
+advantage. And she has a natural family air of fashion--Not but what
+she would have _got on_ much better, if, when she first appeared
+in Lon'on, she had taken my advice, and wrote herself on her cards
+Miss de Nogent, which would have taken off the prejudice against the
+_Iricism_ of Nugent, you know; and there is a Count de Nogent."
+
+"I did not know there was any such prejudice, ma'am. There may be
+among a certain set; but, I should think, not among well-informed,
+well-bred people."
+
+"I _big_ your _pawdon_, Colambre; surely I, that was born in England,
+an Henglishwoman _bawn_, must be well _infawmed_ on this _pint_, any
+way."
+
+Lord Colambre was respectfully silent.
+
+"Mother," resumed he, "I wonder that Miss Nugent is not married."
+
+"That is her own fau't entirely; she has refused very good
+offers--establishments that I own I think, as Lady Langdale says,
+I was to blame to allow her to let pass: but young _ledies_, till
+they are twenty, always think they can do better. Mr. Martingale,
+of Martingale, proposed for her, but she objected to him on account
+of _he'es_ being on the turf; and Mr. St. Albans' 7000_l._ a-year,
+because--I _reelly_ forget what--I believe only because she did
+not like him--and something about principles. Now there is Colonel
+Heathcock, one of the most fashionable young men you see, always with
+the Duchess of Torcaster and that set--Heathcock takes a vast deal of
+notice of her, for him; and yet, I'm persuaded, she would not have him
+to-morrow if he came to the _pint_, and for no reason, _reelly_ now,
+that she can give me, but because she says he's a coxcomb. Grace has
+a tincture of Irish pride. But, for my part, I rejoice that she is so
+difficult; for I don't know what I should do without her."
+
+"Miss Nugent is indeed--very much attached to you, mother, I am
+convinced," said Lord Colambre, beginning his sentence with great
+enthusiasm, and ending it with great sobriety.
+
+"Indeed, then, she's a sweet girl, and I am very partial to her,
+there's the truth," cried Lady Clonbrony, in an undisguised Irish
+accent, and with her natural warm manner. But, a moment afterwards,
+her features and whole form resumed their constrained stillness and
+stiffness, and in her English accent she continued, "Before you put my
+_idears_ out of my head, Colambre, I had something to say to you--Oh!
+I know what it was--we were talking of embarrassments--and I wish
+to do your father the justice to mention to you, that he has been
+_uncommon liberal_ to me about this gala, and has _reelly_ given me
+carte blanche; and I've a notion--indeed I know,--that it is you,
+Colambre, I am to thank for this."
+
+"Me, ma'am!"
+
+"Yes: did not your father give you any hint?"
+
+"No, ma'am; I have seen my father but for half an hour since I came to
+town, and in that time he said nothing to me--of his affairs."
+
+"But what I allude to is more your affair."
+
+"He did not speak to me of any affairs, ma'am--he spoke only of my
+horses."
+
+"Then I suppose my lord leaves it to me to open the matter to you. I
+have the pleasure to tell you, that we have in view for you--and, I
+think I may say, with more than the approbation of all her family--an
+alliance--"
+
+"Oh, my dear mother! you cannot be serious," cried Lord Colambre;
+"you know I am not of years of discretion yet--I shall not think of
+marrying these ten years, at least."
+
+"Why not? Nay, my dear Colambre, don't go, I beg--I am serious, I
+assure you--and, to convince you of it, I shall tell you candidly, at
+once, all your father told me: that now you've done with Cambridge,
+and are come to Lon'on, he agrees with me in wishing that you should
+make the figure you ought to make, Colambre, as sole heir apparent to
+the Clonbrony estate, and all that sort of thing; but, on the other
+hand, living in Lon'on, and making you the handsome allowance you
+ought to have, are, both together, more than your father can afford,
+without inconvenience, he tells me."
+
+"I assure you, mother, I shall be content--"
+
+"No, no; you must not be content, child, and you must hear me: you
+must live in a becoming style, and make a proper appearance. I
+could not present you to my friends here, nor be happy, if you did
+not, Colambre. Now the way is clear before you: you have birth and
+title, here is fortune ready made--you will have a noble estate of
+your own when old Quin dies, and you will not be any encumbrance
+or inconvenience to your father or any body. Marrying an heiress
+accomplishes all this at once--and the young lady is every thing we
+could wish besides--you will meet again at the gala. Indeed, between
+ourselves, she is the grand object of the gala--all her friends will
+come _en masse_, and one should wish that they should see things in
+proper style. You have seen the young lady in question, Colambre--Miss
+Broadhurst--Don't you recollect the young lady I introduced you to
+last night after the opera?"
+
+"The little plain girl, covered with diamonds, who was standing beside
+Miss Nugent?"
+
+"In di'monds, yes--But you won't think her plain when you see more of
+her--that wears off--I thought her plain, at first--I hope--"
+
+"I hope," said Lord Colambre, "that you will not take it unkindly of
+me, my dear mother, if I tell you, at once, that I have no thoughts of
+marrying at present--and that I never will marry for money: marrying
+an heiress is not even a new way of paying old debts--at all events,
+it is one to which no distress could persuade me to have recourse; and
+as I must, if I outlive old Mr. Quin, have an independent fortune,
+_there is no_ occasion to purchase one by marriage."
+
+"There is no distress that I know of in the case," cried Lady
+Clonbrony. "Where is your imagination running, Colambre? But merely
+for your establishment, your independence."
+
+"Establishment, I want none--independence I do desire, and will
+preserve. Assure my father, my _dear mother_, that I will not be
+an expense to him--I will live within the allowance he made me at
+Cambridge--I will give up half of it--I will do any thing for his
+convenience--but marry for money, that I cannot do."
+
+"Then, Colambre, you are very disobliging," said Lady Clonbrony, with
+an expression of disappointment and displeasure; "for your father says
+if you don't marry Miss Broadhurst, we can't live in Lon'on another
+winter."
+
+This said--which had she been at the moment mistress of herself, she
+would not have betrayed--Lady Clonbrony abruptly quitted the room.
+Her son stood motionless, saying to himself, "Is this my mother?--How
+altered!"
+
+The next morning he seized an opportunity of speaking to his father,
+whom he caught with difficulty just when he was going out, as usual,
+for the day. Lord Colambre, with all the respect due to his father,
+and with that affectionate manner by which he always knew how
+to soften the strength of his expressions, made nearly the same
+declarations of his resolution, by which his mother had been so much
+surprised and offended. Lord Clonbrony seemed more embarrassed, but
+not so much displeased. When Lord Colambre adverted, as delicately
+as he could, to the selfishness of desiring from him the sacrifice
+of liberty for life, to say nothing of his affections, merely to
+enable his family to make a splendid figure in London, Lord Clonbrony
+exclaimed, "That's all nonsense!--cursed nonsense! That's the way we
+are obliged to state the thing to your mother, my dear boy, because I
+might talk her deaf before she would understand or listen to any thing
+else; but, for my own share, I don't care a rush if London was sunk in
+the salt sea. Little Dublin for my money, as Sir Terence O'Fay says."
+
+"Who is Sir Terence O'Fay, may I ask, sir?"
+
+"Why, don't you know Terry?--Ay, you've been so long at Cambridge--I
+forgot. And did you never see Terry?"
+
+"I have seen him, sir.--I met him yesterday at Mr. Mordicai's, the
+coachmaker's."
+
+"Mordicai's!" exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden blush, which he
+endeavoured to hide, by taking snuff. "He is a damned rascal, that
+Mordicai! I hope you didn't believe a word he said--nobody does that
+knows him."
+
+"I am glad, sir, that you seem to know him so well, and to be upon
+your guard against him," replied Lord Colambre; "for, from what I
+heard of his conversation, when he was not aware who I was, I am
+convinced he would do you any injury in his power."
+
+"He shall never have me in his power, I promise him. We shall take
+care of that--But what did he say?"
+
+Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai had said, and
+Lord Clonbrony reiterated, "Damned rascal!--damned rascal!--I'll get
+out of his hands--I'll have no more to do with him." But, as he spoke,
+he exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness, moving continually, and
+shifting from leg to leg, like a foundered horse.
+
+He could not bring himself positively to deny that he had debts and
+difficulties; but he would by no means open the state of his affairs
+to his son: "No father is called upon to do that," said he to himself;
+"none but a fool would do it."
+
+Lord Colambre, perceiving his father's embarrassment, withdrew his
+eyes, respectfully refrained from all further inquiries, and simply
+repeated the assurance he had made to his mother, that he would put
+his family to no additional expense; and that, if it was necessary, he
+would willingly give up half his allowance.
+
+"Not at all, not at all, my dear boy," said his father: "I would
+rather cramp myself than that you should be cramped, a thousand times
+over. But it is all my Lady Clonbrony's nonsense. If people would but,
+as they ought, stay in their own country, live on their own estates,
+and kill their own mutton, money need never be wanting."
+
+For killing their own mutton, Lord Colambre did not see the
+indispensable necessity; but he rejoiced to hear his father assert
+that people should reside in their own country.
+
+"Ay," cried Lord Clonbrony, to strengthen his assertion, as he
+always thought it necessary to do, by quoting some other person's
+opinion--"so Sir Terence O'Fay always says, and that's the reason your
+mother can't endure poor Terry--You don't know Terry? No, you have
+only seen him; but, indeed, to see him is to know him; for he is the
+most off-hand, good fellow in Europe."
+
+"I don't pretend to know him yet," said Lord Colambre. "I am not so
+presumptuous as to form my opinion at first sight."
+
+"Oh, curse your modesty!" interrupted Lord Clonbrony; "you mean, you
+don't pretend to like him yet; but Terry will make you like him. I
+defy you not--I'll introduce you to him--him to you, I mean--most
+warm-hearted, generous dog upon earth--convivial--jovial--with wit and
+humour enough, in his own way, to split you--split me if he has not.
+You need not cast down your eyes, Colambre. What's your objection?"
+
+"I have made none, sir--but, if you urge me, I can only say, that, if
+he has all these good qualities, it is to be regretted that he does
+not look and speak a little more like a gentleman."
+
+"A gentleman!--he is as much a gentleman as any of your formal
+prigs--not the exact Cambridge cut, may be--Curse your English
+education! 'twas none of my advice--I suppose you mean to take after
+your mother in the notion, that nothing can be good or genteel but
+what's English."
+
+"Far from it, sir; I assure you I am as warm a friend to Ireland as
+your heart could wish. You will have no reason, in that respect, at
+least, nor, I hope, in any other, to curse my English education--and,
+if my gratitude and affection can avail, you shall never regret the
+kindness and liberality with which you have, I fear, distressed
+yourself to afford me the means of becoming all that a British
+nobleman ought to be."
+
+"Gad! you distress me now," said Lord Clonbrony, "and I didn't expect
+it, or I wouldn't make a fool of myself this way," added he, ashamed
+of his emotion, and whiffling it off. "You have an Irish heart, that I
+see, which no education can spoil. But you must like Terry--I'll
+give you time, as he said to me, when first he taught me to like
+usquebaugh--Good morning to you."
+
+Whilst Lady Clonbrony, in consequence of her residence in London, had
+become more of a fine lady, Lord Clonbrony, since he left Ireland,
+had become less of a gentleman. Lady Clonbrony, born an Englishwoman,
+disclaiming and disencumbering herself of all the Irish in town, had,
+by giving splendid entertainments, at an enormous expense, made her
+way into a certain set of fashionable company. But Lord Clonbrony,
+who was somebody in Ireland, who was a great person in Dublin, found
+himself nobody in England, a mere cipher in London. Looked down upon
+by the fine people with whom his lady associated, and heartily weary
+of them, he retreated from them altogether, and sought entertainment
+and self-complacency in society beneath him, indeed, both in rank and
+education, but in which he had the satisfaction of feeling himself
+the first person in company. Of these associates, the first in
+talents, and in jovial profligacy, was Sir Terence O'Fay--a man of
+low extraction, who had been knighted by an Irish lord-lieutenant
+in some convivial frolic. No one could tell a good story, or sing a
+good song, better than Sir Terence; he exaggerated his native brogue,
+and his natural propensity to blunder, caring little whether the
+company laughed at him or with him, provided they laughed--"Live
+and laugh--laugh and live," was his motto; and certainly he lived
+on laughing, as well as many better men can contrive to live on a
+thousand a-year.
+
+Lord Clonbrony brought Sir Terence home with him next day, to
+introduce him to Lord Colambre; and it happened that, on this
+occasion, Terence appeared to peculiar disadvantage, because, like
+many other people, "Il gâtoit l'esprit qu'il avoit, en voulant avoir
+celui qu'il n'avoit pas."
+
+Having been apprised that Lord Colambre was a fine scholar, fresh from
+Cambridge, and being conscious of his own deficiencies of literature,
+instead of trusting to his natural talents, he summoned to his aid,
+with no small effort, all the scraps of learning he had acquired in
+early days, and even brought before the company all the gods and
+goddesses with whom he had formed an acquaintance at school. Though
+embarrassed by this unusual encumbrance of learning, he endeavoured
+to make all subservient to his immediate design, of paying his court
+to Lady Clonbrony, by forwarding the object she had most anxiously in
+view--the match between her son and Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"And so, Miss Nugent," said he, not daring, with all his assurance, to
+address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony, "and so, Miss Nugent, you
+are going to have great doings, I'm told, and a wonderful grand gala.
+There's nothing in the wide world equal to being in a good handsome
+crowd. No later now than the last ball at the Castle, that was before
+I left Dublin, Miss Nugent, the apartments, owing to the popularity
+of my lady lieutenant, was so throng--so throng--that I remember
+very well, in the doorway, a lady--and a very genteel woman she was,
+too--though a stranger to me, saying to me, 'Sir, your finger's in my
+ear.'--'I know it, madam," says I; 'but I can't take it out till the
+crowd give me elbow-room.'
+
+"But it's the gala I'm thinking of now--I hear you are to have the
+golden Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won't you?"
+
+"Sir!"
+
+This freezing monosyllable notwithstanding, Sir Terence pursued his
+course fluently. "The golden Venus!--sure, Miss Nugent, you that are
+so quick, can't but know I would apostrophize Miss Broadhurst that
+is--but that won't be long so, I hope. My Lord Colambre, have you seen
+much yet of that young lady?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then I hope you won't be long so. I hear great talk now of the Venus
+of Medici, and the Venus of this and that, with the Florence Venus,
+and the sable Venus, and that other Venus, that's washing of her hair,
+and a hundred other Venuses, some good, some bad. But, be that as it
+will, my lord, trust a fool--ye may, when he tells you truth--the
+golden Venus is the only one on earth that can stand, or that will
+stand, through all ages and temperatures; for gold rules the court,
+gold rules the camp, and men below, and heaven above."
+
+"Heaven above!--Take care, Terry! Do you know what you are saying?"
+interrupted Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Do I?--Don't I?" replied Terry. "Deny, if you please, my lord, that
+it was for a golden pippin that the three goddesses _fit_--and that
+the _Hippomenes_ was about golden apples--and did not Hercules rob a
+garden for golden apples?--and did not the pious Æneas himself take a
+golden branch with him to make himself welcome to his father in hell?"
+said Sir Terence, winking at Lord Colambre.
+
+"Why, Terry, you know more about books than I should have suspected,"
+said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Nor you would not have suspected me to have such a great acquaintance
+among the goddesses neither, would you, my lord? But, apropos, before
+we quit, of what material, think ye, was that same Venus's famous
+girdle, now, that made roses and lilies so quickly appear? Why, what
+was it but a girdle of sterling gold, I'll engage?--for gold is the
+only true thing for a young man to look after in a wife."
+
+Sir Terence paused, but no applause ensued.
+
+"Let them talk of Cupids and darts, and the mother of the Loves and
+Graces--Minerva may sing odes and _dythambrics_, or whatsoever her
+wisdomship pleases. Let her sing, or let her say, she'll never get a
+husband, in this world or the other, without she had a good thumping
+_fortin_, and then she'd go off like wildfire."
+
+"No, no, Terry, there you're out: Minerva has too bad a character for
+learning to be a favourite with gentlemen," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Tut--Don't tell me!--I'd get her off before you could say Jack
+Robinson, and thank you too, if she had 50,000_l._ down, or 1,000_l._
+a-year in land. Would you have a man so d----d nice as to balk,
+when house and land is agoing--a going--a going!--because of the
+incumbrance of a little learning? But, after all, I never heard that
+Miss Broadhurst was any thing of a learned lady."
+
+"Miss Broadhurst!" said Miss Nugent: "how did you get round to Miss
+Broadhurst?"
+
+"Oh! by the way of Tipperary," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"I beg your pardon, my lord, it was apropos to good fortune, which,
+I hope, will not be out of your way, even if you went by Tipperary.
+She has, besides 100,000_l._ in the funds, a clear landed property of
+10,000_l._ per annum. _Well! some people talk of morality, and some of
+religion, bat give me a little snug_ PROPERTY.--But, my lord, I've a
+little business to transact this morning, and must not be idling and
+indulging myself here." So, bowing to the ladies, he departed.
+
+"Really, I am glad that man is gone," said Lady Clonbrony. "What a
+relief to one's ears! I am sure I wonder, my lord, how you can bear
+to carry that strange creature always about with you--so vulgar as he
+is."
+
+"He diverts me," said Lord Clonbrony; "while many of your
+correct-mannered fine ladies or gentlemen put me to sleep. What
+signifies what accent people speak in, that have nothing to say, hey,
+Colambre?"
+
+Lord Colambre, from respect to his father, did not express his
+opinion; but his aversion to Sir Terence O'Fay was stronger even than
+his mother's, though Lady Clonbrony's detestation of him was much
+increased by perceiving that his coarse hints about Miss Broadhurst
+had operated against her favourite scheme.
+
+The next morning, at breakfast, Lord Clonbrony talked of bringing Sir
+Terence with him that night to her gala--she absolutely grew pale with
+horror.
+
+"Good Heavens!--Lady Langdale, Mrs. Dareville, Lady Pococke, Lady
+Chatterton, Lady D----, Lady G----, His Grace of V----; what would
+they think of him! And Miss Broadhurst, to see him going about with
+my Lord Clonbrony!"--It could not be. No--her ladyship made the most
+solemn and desperate protestation, that she would sooner give up her
+gala altogether--tie up the knocker--say she was sick--rather be sick,
+or be dead, than be obliged to have such a creature as Sir Terence
+O'Fay at her gala.
+
+"Have it your own way, my dear, as you have every thing else," cried
+Lord Clonbrony, taking up his hat, and preparing to decamp; "but, take
+notice, if you won't receive him, you need not expect me. So a good
+morning to you, my Lady Clonbrony. You may find a worse friend in need
+yet, than that same Sir Terence O'Fay."
+
+"I trust I shall never be in need, my lord," replied her ladyship. "It
+would be strange indeed if I were, with the fortune I brought."
+
+"Oh, that fortune of hers!" cried Lord Clonbrony, stopping both his
+ears as he ran out of his room: "shall I never hear the end of that
+fortune, when I've seen the end of it long ago?"
+
+During this matrimonial dialogue, Miss Nugent and Lord Colambre never
+once looked at each other. She was very diligently trying the changes
+that could be made in the positions of a china-mouse, a cat, a dog, a
+cup, and a brahmin, on the mantel-piece; Lord Colambre as diligently
+reading the newspaper.
+
+"Now, my dear Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "put down the paper,
+and listen to me. Let me entreat you not to neglect Miss Broadhurst
+to-night, as I know that the family come here chiefly on your
+account."
+
+"My dear mother, I never can neglect any one of your guests; but
+I shall be careful not to show any particular attention to Miss
+Broadhurst, for I never will pretend what I do not feel."
+
+"But, my dear Colambre, Miss Broadhurst is every thing you could wish,
+except being a beauty."
+
+"Perhaps, madam," said Lord Colambre, fixing his eyes on Miss Nugent,
+"you think that I can see no farther than a handsome face?"
+
+The unconscious Grace Nugent now made a warm eulogium of Miss
+Broadhurst's sense, and wit, and independence of character.
+
+"I did not know that Miss Broadhurst was a friend of yours, Miss
+Nugent?"
+
+"She is, I assure you, a friend of mine; and, as a proof, I will not
+praise her at this moment. I will go farther still--I will promise
+that I never will praise her to you till you begin to praise her to
+me."
+
+Lord Colambre smiled, and now listened as if he wished that she should
+go on speaking, even of Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"That's my sweet Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony. "Oh! she knows how to
+manage these men--not one of them can resist her!"
+
+Lord Colambre, for his part, did not deny the truth of this assertion.
+
+"Grace," added Lady Clonbrony, "make him promise to do as we would
+have him."
+
+"No--promises are dangerous things to ask or to give," said Grace.
+"Men and naughty children never make promises, especially promises to
+be good, without longing to break them the next minute."
+
+"Well, at least, child, persuade him, I charge you, to make my gala go
+off well. That's the first thing we ought to think of now. Ring the
+bell!--And all heads and hands I put in requisition for the gala."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The opening of her gala, the display of her splendid reception rooms,
+the Turkish tent, the Alhambra, the pagoda, formed a proud moment
+to Lady Clonbrony. Much did she enjoy, and much too naturally,
+notwithstanding all her efforts to be stiff and stately, much too
+naturally did she show her enjoyment of the surprise excited in some
+and affected by others on their first entrance.
+
+One young, very young lady expressed her astonishment so audibly as to
+attract the notice of all the bystanders. Lady Clonbrony, delighted,
+seized both her hands, shook them, and laughed heartily; then, as the
+young lady with her party passed on, her ladyship recovered herself,
+drew up her head, and said to the company near her, "Poor thing! I
+hope I covered her little _naïveté_ properly. How NEW she must be!"
+
+Then with well practised dignity, and half subdued self-complacency
+of aspect, her ladyship went gliding about--most importantly busy,
+introducing my lady _this_ to the sphynx candelabra, and my lady
+_that_ to the Trebisond trellice; placing some delightfully for
+the perspective of the Alhambra; establishing others quite to her
+satisfaction on seraglio ottomans; and honouring others with a seat
+under the Statira canopy. Receiving and answering compliments from
+successive crowds of select friends, imagining herself the mirror
+of fashion, and the admiration of the whole world, Lady Clonbrony
+was, for her hour, as happy certainly as ever woman was in similar
+circumstances.
+
+Her son looked at her, and wished that this happiness could last.
+Naturally inclined to sympathy, Lord Colambre reproached himself for
+not feeling as gay at this instant as the occasion required. But the
+festive scene, the blazing lights, the "universal hubbub," failed to
+raise his spirits. As a dead weight upon them hung the remembrance
+of Mordicai's denunciations; and, through the midst of this eastern
+magnificence, this unbounded profusion, he thought he saw future
+domestic misery and ruin to those he loved best in the world.
+
+The only object present on which his eye rested with pleasure was
+Grace Nugent. Beautiful--in elegant and dignified simplicity--
+thoughtless of herself--yet with a look of thought, and with an air
+of melancholy, which accorded exactly with his own feelings, and
+which he believed to arise from the same reflections that had
+passed in his own mind.
+
+"Miss Broadhurst, Colambre! all the Broadhursts!" said his mother,
+wakening him as she passed by to receive them as they entered.
+Miss Broadhurst appeared, plainly dressed--plainly even to
+singularity--without any diamonds or ornament.
+
+"Brought Philippa to you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, this figure, rather
+than not bring her at all," said puffing Mrs. Broadhurst, "and had
+all the difficulty in the world to get her out at all, and now I've
+promised she shall stay but half an hour. Sore throat--terrible cold
+she took in the morning. I'll swear for her, she'd not have come for
+any one but you."
+
+The young lady did not seem inclined to swear, or even to say this
+for herself; she stood wonderfully unconcerned and passive, with an
+expression of humour lurking in her eyes, and about the corners of
+her mouth; whilst Lady Clonbrony was "shocked," and "gratified,"
+and "concerned," and "flattered;" and whilst every body was hoping,
+and fearing, and busying themselves about her, "Miss Broadhurst,
+you'd better sit here!"--"Oh, for heaven's sake! Miss Broadhurst,
+not there!" "Miss Broadhurst, if you'll take my opinion," and "Miss
+Broadhurst, if I may advise--."
+
+"Grace Nugent!" cried Lady Clonbrony. "Miss Broadhurst always listens
+to you. Do, my dear, persuade Miss Broadhurst to take care of herself,
+and let us take her to the inner little pagoda, where she can be so
+warm and so retired--the very thing for an invalid--Colambre! pioneer
+the way for us, for the crowd's immense."
+
+Lady Anne and Lady Catherine H----, Lady Langdale's daughters, were
+at this time leaning on Miss Nugent's arm, and moved along with this
+party to the inner pagoda. There were to be cards in one room, music
+in another, dancing in a third, and in this little room there were
+prints and chess-boards, &c.
+
+"Here you will be quite to yourselves," said Lady Clonbrony; "let
+me establish you comfortably in this, which I call my sanctuary--my
+_snuggery_--Colambre, that little table!--Miss Broadhurst, you play
+chess?--Colambre, you'll play with Miss Broadhurst--"
+
+"I thank your ladyship," said Miss Broadhurst, "but I know nothing of
+chess but the moves: Lady Catherine, you will play, and I will look
+on."
+
+Miss Broadhurst drew her seat to the fire; Lady Catherine sat down to
+play with Lord Colambre: Lady Clonbrony withdrew, again recommending
+Miss Broadhurst to Grace Nugent's care. After some commonplace
+conversation, Lady Anne H----, looking at the company in the adjoining
+apartment, asked her sister how old Miss Somebody was who passed
+by. This led to reflections upon the comparative age and youthful
+appearance of several of their acquaintance, and upon the care with
+which mothers concealed the age of their daughters. Glances passed
+between Lady Catherine and Lady Anne.
+
+"For my part," said Miss Broadhurst, "my mother would labour that
+point of secrecy in vain for me; for I am willing to tell my age, even
+if my face did not tell it for me, to all whom it may concern--I am
+passed three-and-twenty--shall be four-and-twenty the fifth of next
+July."
+
+"Three-and-twenty!--Bless me!--I thought you were not twenty!" cried
+Lady Anne.
+
+"Four-and-twenty next July!--impossible!" cried Lady Catherine.
+
+"Very possible," said Miss Broadhurst, quite unconcerned.
+
+"Now, Lord Colambre, would you believe it? Can you believe it?" asked
+Lady Catherine.
+
+"Yes, he can," said Miss Broadhurst. "Don't you see that he believes
+it as firmly as you and I do? Why should you force his lordship to pay
+a compliment contrary to his better judgment, or extort a smile from
+him under false pretences? I am sure he sees that you, and I trust he
+perceives that I, do not think the worse of him for this."
+
+Lord Colambre smiled now without any false pretence; and, relieved at
+once from all apprehension of her joining in his mother's views, or of
+her expecting particular attention from him, he became at ease with
+Miss Broadhurst, showed a desire to converse with her, and listened
+eagerly to what she said. He recollected that Miss Nugent had told
+him, that this young lady had no common character; and, neglecting his
+move at chess, he looked up at Miss Nugent, as much as to say, "_Draw
+her out_, pray."
+
+But Grace was too good a friend to comply with that request; she left
+Miss Broadhurst to unfold her own character.
+
+"It is your move, my lord," said Lady Catherine.
+
+"I beg your ladyship's pardon--"
+
+"Are not these rooms beautiful, Miss Broadhurst?" said Lady Catherine,
+determined, if possible, to turn the conversation into a commonplace,
+safe channel; for she had just felt, what most of Miss Broadhurst's
+acquaintance had in their turn felt, that she had an odd way of
+startling people, by setting their own secret little motives suddenly
+before them.
+
+"Are not these rooms beautiful?"
+
+"Beautiful!--Certainly."
+
+The beauty of the rooms would have answered Lady Catherine's purpose
+for some time, had not Lady Anne imprudently brought the conversation
+back again to Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"Do you know, Miss Broadhurst," said she, "that if I had fifty sore
+throats, I could not have refrained from my diamonds on this GALA
+night; and such diamonds as you have! Now, really, I could not believe
+you to be the same person we saw blazing at the opera the other
+night!"
+
+"Really! could not you, Lady Anne? That is the very thing that
+entertains me. I only wish that I could lay aside my fortune
+sometimes, as well as my diamonds, and see how few people would know
+me then. Might not I, Grace, by the golden rule, which, next to
+practice, is the best rule in the world, calculate and answer that
+question?"
+
+"I am persuaded," said Lord Colambre, "that Miss Broadhurst has
+friends on whom the experiment would make no difference."
+
+"I am convinced of it," said Miss Broadhurst; "and that is what makes
+me tolerably happy, though I have the misfortune to be an heiress."
+
+"That is the oddest speech," said Lady Anne. "Now I should so like
+to be a great heiress, and to have, like you, such thousands and
+thousands at command."
+
+"And what can the thousands upon thousands do for me? Hearts, you
+know, Lady Anne, are to be won only by radiant eyes. Bought hearts
+your ladyship certainly would not recommend. They're such poor
+things--no wear at all. Turn them which way you will, you can make
+nothing of them."
+
+"You've tried, then, have you?" said Lady Catherine.
+
+"To my cost.--Very nearly taken in by them half a dozen times; for
+they are brought to me by dozens; and they are so made up for sale,
+and the people do so swear to you that it's real, real love, and it
+looks so like it: and, if you stoop to examine it, you hear it pressed
+upon you by such elegant oaths.--By all that's lovely!--By all my
+hopes of happiness!--By your own charming self! Why, what can one do
+but look like a fool, and believe? for these men, at the time, all
+look so like gentlemen, that one cannot bring oneself flatly to tell
+them that they are cheats and swindlers, that they are perjuring their
+precious souls. Besides, to call a lover a perjured creature is to
+encourage him. He would have a right to complain if you went back
+after that."
+
+"O dear! what a move was there!" cried Lady Catherine. "Miss
+Broadhurst is so entertaining to-night, notwithstanding her sore
+throat, that one can positively attend to nothing else. And she talks
+of love and lovers too with such _connoissance de fait_--counts her
+lovers by dozens, tied up in true lovers' knots!"
+
+"Lovers!--no, no! Did I say lovers?--suitors I should have said.
+There's nothing less like a lover, a true lover, than a suitor, as all
+the world knows, ever since the days of Penelope. Dozens!--never had a
+lover in my life!--And fear, with much reason, I never shall have one
+to my mind."
+
+"My lord, you've given up the game," cried Lady Catherine; "but you
+make no battle."
+
+"It would be so vain to combat against your ladyship," said Lord
+Colambre, rising, and bowing politely to Lady Catherine, but turning
+the next instant to converse with Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"But when I talked of liking to be an heiress," said Lady Anne, "I was
+not thinking of lovers."
+
+"Certainly.--One is not always thinking of lovers, you know," added
+Lady Catherine.
+
+"Not always," replied Miss Broadhurst. "Well, lovers out of the
+question on all sides, what would your ladyship buy with the thousands
+upon thousands?"
+
+"Oh, every thing, if I were you," said Lady Anne.
+
+"Rank, to begin with," said Lady Catherine.
+
+"Still my old objection--bought rank is but a shabby thing."
+
+"But there is so little difference made between bought and hereditary
+rank in these days," said Lady Catherine.
+
+"I see a great deal still," said Miss Broadhurst; "so much, that I
+would never buy a title."
+
+"A title, without birth, to be sure," said Lady Anne, "would not be so
+well worth buying; and as birth certainly is not to be bought--"
+
+"And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not buy," said
+Miss Broadhurst, "unless I could be sure to have it with all the
+politeness, all the noble sentiments, all the magnanimity, in short,
+all that should grace and dignify high birth."
+
+"Admirable!" said Lord Colambre. Grace Nugent smiled.
+
+"Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my mother in mind, I
+must go away?"
+
+"I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it," said his lordship.
+
+"Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?" said Lady Anne. "Miss
+Nugent, I am afraid we have made Miss Broadhurst talk so much, in
+spite of her hoarseness, that Lady Clonbrony will be quite angry with
+us. And here she comes, Lady Catherine."
+
+My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss Broadhurst would not
+think of running away; but Miss Broadhurst could not be prevailed upon
+to stay. Lady Clonbrony was delighted to see that her son assisted
+Grace Nugent most carefully in _shawling_ the young heiress--his
+lordship conducted her to her carriage, and his mother drew many happy
+auguries from the gallantry of his manner, and from the young lady's
+having stayed three quarters, instead of half an hour--a circumstance
+which Lady Catherine did not fail to remark.
+
+The dancing, which, under various pretences, Lady Clonbrony had
+delayed till Lord Colambre was at liberty, began immediately after
+Miss Broadhurst's departure; and the chalked mosaic pavement of the
+Alhambra was, in a few minutes, effaced by the dancers' feet. How
+transient are all human joys, especially those of vanity! Even on this
+long meditated, this long desired, this gala night, Lady Clonbrony
+found her triumph incomplete--inadequate to her expectations. For the
+first hour all had been compliment, success, and smiles; presently
+came the _buts_, and the hesitated objections, and the "damning
+with faint praise"--all _that_ could be borne--every body has his
+taste--and one person's taste is as good as another's; and while
+she had Mr. Soho to cite, Lady Clonbrony thought she might be well
+satisfied. But she could not be satisfied with Colonel Heathcock, who,
+dressed in black, had stretched his "fashionable length of limb" under
+the Statira canopy, upon the snow-white swandown couch. When, after
+having monopolized attention, and been the subject of much bad wit,
+about black swans and rare birds, and swans being geese and geese
+being swans, the colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville
+said, to vacate his couch--that couch was no longer white--the black
+impression of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.
+
+"Eh, now! really didn't recollect I was in black," was all the apology
+he made. Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed that the appearance of
+the Statira canopy should be spoiled before the effect had been seen
+by Lady Pococke, and Lady Chatterton, and Lady G----, Lady P----, and
+the Duke of V----, and a party of superlative fashionables, who had
+promised _to look in upon her_, but who, late as it was, had not yet
+arrived. They came in at last. But Lady Clonbrony had no reason to
+regret for their sake the Statira couch. It would have been lost upon
+them, as was every thing else which she had prepared with so much
+pains and cost to excite their admiration. They came resolute not to
+admire. Skilled in the art of making others unhappy, they just looked
+round with an air of apathy.--"Ah! you've had Soho!--Soho has done
+wonders for you here!--Vastly well!--Vastly well!--Soho's very clever
+in his way!"
+
+Others of great importance came in, full of some slight accident that
+had happened to themselves, or their horses, or their carriages; and,
+with privileged selfishness, engrossed the attention of all within
+their sphere of conversation. Well, Lady Clonbrony got over all this;
+and got over the history of a letter about a chimney that was on fire,
+a week ago, at the Duke of V----'s old house, in Brecknockshire. In
+gratitude for the smiling patience with which she listened to him,
+his Grace of V---- fixed his glass to look at the Alhambra, and had
+just pronounced it to be "Well!--very well!" when the Dowager Lady
+Chatterton made a terrible discovery--a discovery that filled Lady
+Clonbrony with astonishment and indignation--Mr. Soho had played her
+false! What was her mortification, when the dowager assured her that
+these identical Alhambra hangings had not only been shown by Mr. Soho
+to the Duchess of Torcaster, but that her grace had had the refusal of
+them, and had actually criticised them, in consequence of Sir Horace
+Grant, the great traveller's objecting to some of the proportions of
+the pillars--Soho had engaged to make a new set, vastly improved, by
+Sir Horace's suggestions, for her Grace of Torcaster.
+
+Now Lady Chatterton was the greatest talker extant; and she went
+about the rooms telling every body of her acquaintance--and she was
+acquainted with every body--how shamefully Soho had imposed upon poor
+Lady Clonbrony, protesting she could not forgive the man. "For," said
+she, "though the Duchess of Torcaster had been his constant customer
+for ages, and his patroness, and all that, yet this does not excuse
+him--and Lady Clonbrony's being a stranger, and from Ireland, makes
+the thing worse." From Ireland!--that was the unkindest cut of
+all--but there was no remedy.
+
+In vain poor Lady Clonbrony followed the dowager about the rooms to
+correct this mistake, and to represent, in justice to Mr. Soho, though
+he had used her so ill, that he knew she was an Englishwoman. The
+dowager was deaf, and no whisper could reach her ear. And when Lady
+Clonbrony was obliged to bawl an explanation in her ear, the dowager
+only repeated, "In justice to Mr. Soho!--No, no; he has not done
+you justice, my dear Lady Clonbrony! and I'll expose him to every
+body. Englishwoman!--no, no, no!--Soho could not take you for an
+Englishwoman!"
+
+All who secretly envied or ridiculed Lady Clonbrony enjoyed this
+scene. The Alhambra hangings, which had been in one short hour before
+the admiration of the world, were now regarded by every eye with
+contempt, as _cast_ hangings, and every tongue was busy declaiming
+against Mr. Soho; every body declared, that from the first, the want
+of proportion "struck them, but that they would not mention it till
+others found it out."
+
+People usually revenge themselves for having admired too much, by
+afterwards despising and depreciating without mercy--in all great
+assemblies the perception of ridicule is quickly caught, and quickly
+too revealed. Lady Clonbrony, even in her own house, on her gala
+night, became an object of ridicule,--decently masked, indeed, under
+the appearance of condolence with her ladyship, and of indignation
+against "that abominable Mr. Soho!"
+
+Lady Langdale, who was now, for reasons of her own, upon her good
+behaviour, did penance, as she said, for her former imprudence,
+by abstaining even from whispered sarcasms. She looked on with
+penitential gravity, said nothing herself, and endeavoured to keep
+Mrs. Dareville in order; but that was no easy task. Mrs. Dareville
+had no daughters, had nothing to gain from the acquaintance of my Lady
+Clonbrony; and conscious that her ladyship would bear a vast deal
+from her presence, rather than forego the honour of her sanction,
+Mrs. Dareville, without any motives of interest, or good-nature of
+sufficient power to restrain her talent and habit of ridicule, free
+from hope or fear, gave full scope to all the malice of mockery, and
+all the insolence of fashion. Her slings and arrows, numerous as they
+were and outrageous, were directed against such petty objects, and the
+mischief was so quick in its aim and its operation, that, felt but not
+seen, it is scarcely possible to register the hits, or to describe the
+nature of the wounds.
+
+Some hits, sufficiently palpable, however, are recorded for the
+advantage of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony led her to look at the
+Chinese pagoda, the lady paused, with her foot on the threshold, as
+if afraid to enter this porcelain Elysium, as she called it--Fool's
+Paradise, she would have said; and, by her hesitation, and by the
+half pronounced word, suggested the idea,--"None but belles without
+petticoats can enter here," said she, drawing her clothes tight round
+her; "fortunately, I have but two, and Lady Langdale has but one."
+Prevailed upon to venture in, she walked on with prodigious care and
+trepidation, affecting to be alarmed at the crowd of strange forms and
+monsters by which she was surrounded.
+
+"Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature!--Well, now I
+may boast I've been in a real Chinese pagoda!"
+
+"Why, yes, every thing is appropriate here, I flatter my self," said
+Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in defiance of bulls
+and blunders, to allow us a comfortable English fire-place and plenty
+of Newcastle coal in China!--And a white marble--no! white velvet
+hearthrug painted with beautiful flowers--Oh! the delicate, the
+_useful_ thing!"
+
+Vexed by the emphasis on the word _useful_, Lady Clonbrony endeavoured
+to turn off the attention of the company. "Lady Langdale, your
+ladyship's a judge of china--this vase is an unique, I am told."
+
+"I am told," interrupted Mrs. Dareville, "this is the very vase in
+which B----, the nabob's father, who was, you know, a China captain,
+smuggled his dear little Chinese wife and all her fortune out of
+Canton--positively, actually put the lid on, packed her up, and sent
+her off on shipboard!--True! true! upon my veracity! I'll tell you my
+authority!"
+
+With this story, Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from the jar, to
+Lady Clonbrony's infinite mortification.
+
+Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range of china jars.
+
+"Ali Baba and the forty thieves!" exclaimed Mrs. Dareville: "I hope
+you have boiling oil ready!"
+
+Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that Mrs. Dareville
+was uncommon pleasant to-night--"But now," said her ladyship, "let me
+take you to the Turkish tent."
+
+Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of the pagoda
+and into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony began to breathe move
+freely; for here she thought she was upon safe ground:--"Every thing,
+I flatter myself," said she, "is correct, and appropriate, and quite
+picturesque"--The company, dispersed in happy groups, or reposing on
+seraglio ottomans, drinking lemonade and sherbet--beautiful Fatimas
+admiring, or being admired--"Every thing here quite correct,
+appropriate, and picturesque," repeated Mrs. Dareville.
+
+This lady's powers as a mimic were extraordinary, and she found them
+irresistible. Hitherto she had imitated Lady Clonbrony's air and
+accent only behind her back; but, bolder grown, she now ventured, in
+spite of Lady Langdale's warning pinches, to mimic her kind hostess
+before her face, and to her face. Now, whenever Lady Clonbrony saw any
+thing that struck her fancy in the dress of her fashionable friends,
+she had a way of hanging her head aside, and saying, with a peculiarly
+sentimental drawl, "How pretty!--How elegant!--Now that quite suits
+my _teeste_." this phrase, precisely in the same accent, and with the
+head set to the same angle of affectation, Mrs. Dareville had the
+assurance to address to her ladyship, apropos to something which she
+pretended to admire in Lady Clonbrony's _costume_--a costume, which,
+excessively fashionable in each of its parts, was, altogether, so
+extraordinarily unbecoming, as to be fit for a print-shop. The
+perception of this, added to the effect of Mrs. Dareville's mimicry,
+was almost too much for Lady Langdale; she could not possibly have
+stood it, but for the appearance of Miss Nugent at this instant behind
+Lady Clonbrony. Grace gave one glance of indignation, which seemed
+suddenly to strike Mrs. Dareville. Silence for a moment ensued, and
+afterwards the tone of the conversation was changed.
+
+"Salisbury!--explain this to me," said a lady, drawing Mr. Salisbury
+aside. "If you are in the secret, do explain this to me; for unless I
+had seen it, I could not have believed it. Nay, though I have seen it,
+I do not believe it. How was that daring spirit laid? By what spell?"
+
+"By the spell which superior minds always cast on inferior spirits."
+
+"Very fine," said the lady, laughing, "but as old as the days of
+Leonora de Galigai, quoted a million times. Now tell me something new
+and to the purpose, and better suited to modern days."
+
+"Well, then, since you will not allow me to talk of superior minds in
+the present day, let me ask you if you have never observed that a wit,
+once conquered in company by a wit of higher order, is thenceforward
+in complete subjection to the conqueror; whenever and wherever they
+meet."
+
+"You would not persuade me that yonder gentle-looking girl could ever
+be a match for the veteran Mrs. Dareville? She may have the wit, but
+has she the courage?"
+
+"Yes; no one has more courage, more civil courage, where her own
+dignity, or the interests of her friends are concerned--I will tell
+you an instance or two to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow!--To-night!--tell it me now."
+
+"Not a safe place."
+
+"The safest in the world, in such a crowd as this--Follow my example.
+Take a glass of orgeat--sip from time to time, thus--speak low,
+looking innocent all the while straight forward, or now and then up at
+the lamps--keep on in an even tone--use no names--and you may tell any
+thing."
+
+"Well, then, when Miss Nugent first came to London, Mrs. Dareville--"
+
+"Two names already--did not I warn ye?"
+
+"But how can I make myself intelligible?"
+
+"Initials--can't you use--or genealogy?--What stops you?--It is only
+Lord Colambre, a very safe person, I have a notion, when the eulogium
+is of Miss Nugent."
+
+Lord Colambre, who had now performed his arduous duties as a dancer,
+and had disembarrassed himself of all his partners, came into the
+Turkish tent just at this moment to refresh himself, and just in time
+to hear Mr. Salisbury's anecdotes.
+
+"Now go on."
+
+"Mrs. Dareville, you remember, some years ago, went to Ireland, with
+some lady lieutenant, to whom she was related--there she was most
+hospitably received by Lord and Lady Clonbrony--went to their country
+house--was as intimate with Lady Clonbrony and with Miss Nugent as
+possible--stayed at Clonbrony Castle for a month; and yet, when
+Lady Clonbrony came to London, never took the least notice of her.
+At last, meeting at the house of a common friend, Mrs. Dareville
+could not avoid recognizing her ladyship; but, even then, did it in
+the least civil manner and most cursory style possible--'Ho! Lady
+Clonbrony!--didn't know you were in England!--When did you come?--How
+long shall you stay in town?--Hope, before you leave England, your
+ladyship and Miss Nugent will give us a day?'--_A day!_--Lady
+Clonbrony was so astonished by this impudence of ingratitude, that she
+hesitated how to _take it_; but Miss Nugent, quite coolly, and with a
+smile, answered, 'A day!--Certainly--to you, who gave us a month!'"
+
+"Admirable!--Now I comprehend perfectly why Mrs. Dareville declines
+insulting Miss Nugent's friends in her presence."
+
+Lord Colambre said nothing, but thought much. "How I wish my mother,"
+thought he, "had some of Grace Nugent's proper pride! She would not
+then waste her fortune, spirits, health, and life, in courting such
+people as these."
+
+He had not seen--he could not have borne to have beheld--the manner
+in which his mother had been treated by some of her guests; but he
+observed that she now looked harassed and vexed; and he was provoked
+and mortified, by hearing her begging and beseeching some of the saucy
+leaders of the ton to oblige her, to do her the favour, to do her the
+honour, to stay to supper. It was just ready--actually announced. "No,
+they would not, they could not; they were obliged to run away: engaged
+to the Duchess of Torcaster."
+
+"Lord Colambre, what is the matter?" said Miss Nugent, going up to
+him, as he stood aloof and indignant: "Don't look so like a chafed
+lion; others may perhaps read your countenance, as well as I do."
+
+"None can read my mind so well," replied he. "Oh, my dear Grace!--"
+
+"Supper!--Supper!" cried she: "your duty to your neighbour, your hand
+to your partner."
+
+The supper room, fitted up at great expense, with scenery to imitate
+Vauxhall, opened into a superb greenhouse, lighted with coloured
+lamps, a band of music at a distance--every delicacy, every luxury
+that could gratify the senses, appeared in profusion. The company
+ate and drank--enjoyed themselves--went away--and laughed at their
+hostess. Some, indeed, who thought they had been neglected, were in
+too bad humour to laugh, but abused her in sober earnest; for Lady
+Clonbrony had offended half, nay, three quarters of her guests, by
+what they termed her exclusive attention to those very leaders of the
+ton, from whom she had suffered so much, and who had made it obvious
+to all that they thought they did her too much honour in appearing
+at her gala. So ended the gala for which she had lavished such sums;
+for which she had laboured so indefatigably; and from which she had
+expected such triumph.
+
+"Colambre, bid the musicians stop--they are playing to empty benches,"
+said Lady Clonbrony. "Grace, my dear, will you see that these lamps
+are safely put out? I am so tired, so _worn out_, I must go to bed;
+and I am sure I have caught cold, too. What a _nervous business_ it is
+to manage these things! I wonder how one gets through it, or _why_ one
+does it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+Lady Clonbrony was taken ill the day after her gala; she had caught
+cold by standing, when much overheated, in a violent draught of wind,
+paying her parting compliments to the Duke of V----, who thought her a
+_bore_, and wished her in heaven all the time for keeping his horses
+standing. Her ladyship's illness was severe and long; she was confined
+to her room for some weeks by a rheumatic fever, and an inflammation
+in her eyes. Every day, when Lord Colambre went to see his mother,
+he found Miss Nugent in her apartment, and every hour he found fresh
+reason to admire this charming girl. The affectionate tenderness, the
+indefatigable patience, the strong attachment she showed for her aunt,
+actually raised Lady Clonbrony in her son's opinion. He was persuaded
+she must surely have some good or great qualities, or she could not
+have excited such strong affection. A few foibles out of the question,
+such as her love of fine people, her affectation of being English, and
+other affectations too tedious to mention, Lady Clonbrony was really a
+good woman, had good principles, moral and religious, and, selfishness
+not immediately interfering, she was good-natured; and, though
+her whole soul and attention were so completely absorbed in the
+duties of acquaintanceship that she did not know it, she really had
+affections--they were concentrated upon a few near relations. She was
+extremely fond and extremely proud of her son. Next to her son, she
+was fonder of her niece than of any other creature. She had received
+Grace Nugent into her family when she was left an orphan, and deserted
+by some of her other relations. She had bred her up, and had treated
+her with constant kindness. This kindness and these obligations had
+raised the warmest gratitude in Miss Nugent's heart; and it was the
+strong principle of gratitude which rendered her capable of endurance
+and exertions seemingly far above her strength. This young lady was
+not of a robust appearance, though she now underwent extraordinary
+fatigue. Her aunt could scarcely bear that she should leave her for
+a moment: she could not close her eyes, unless Grace sat up with her
+many hours every night. Night after night she bore this fatigue; and
+yet, with little sleep or rest, she preserved her health, at least,
+supported her spirits; and every morning when Lord Colambre came into
+his mother's room, he saw Miss Nugent look as blooming as if she had
+enjoyed the most refreshing sleep. The bloom was, as he observed, not
+permanent; it came and went with every emotion of her feeling heart;
+and he soon learned to fancy her almost as handsome when she was pale
+as when she had a colour. He had thought her beautiful when he beheld
+her in all the radiance of light, and with all the advantages of dress
+at the gala, but he found her infinitely more lovely and interesting
+now, when he saw her in a sick-room--a half-darkened chamber--where
+often he could but just discern her form, or distinguish her, except
+by her graceful motion as she passed, or when, but for a moment, a
+window-curtain drawn aside let the sun shine upon her face, or on the
+ringlets of her hair.
+
+Much must be allowed for an inflammation in the eyes, and something
+for a rheumatic fever; yet it may seem strange that Lady Clonbrony
+should be so blind and deaf as neither to see nor hear all this
+time; that having lived so long in the world, it should never occur
+to her that it was rather imprudent to have a young lady, not
+eighteen, nursing her--and such a young lady!--when her son, not
+one-and-twenty--and such a son!--came to visit her daily. But, so it
+was, Lady Clonbrony knew nothing of love--she had read of it, indeed,
+in novels, which sometimes for fashion's sake she had looked at, and
+over which she had been obliged to dose; but this was only love in
+books--love in real life she had never met with--in the life she led,
+how should she? She had heard of its making young people, and old
+people even, do foolish things; but those were foolish people; and if
+they were worse than foolish, why it was shocking, and nobody visited
+them. But Lady Clonbrony had not, for her own part, the slightest
+notion how people could be brought to this pass, nor how any body
+out of Bedlam could prefer, to a good house, a decent equipage, and
+a proper establishment, what is called love in a cottage. As to
+Colambre, she had too good an opinion of his understanding--to say
+nothing of his duty to his family, his pride, his rank, and his being
+her son--to let such an idea cross her imagination. As to her niece;
+in the first place, she was her niece, and first cousins should never
+marry, because they form no new connexions to strengthen the family
+interest, or raise its consequence. This doctrine her ladyship had
+repeated for years so often and so dogmatically, that she conceived
+it to be incontrovertible, and of as full force as any law of the
+land, or as any moral or religious obligation. She would as soon have
+suspected her niece of an intention of stealing her diamond necklace
+as of purloining Colambre's heart, or marrying this heir of the house
+of Clonbrony.
+
+Miss Nugent was so well apprized, and so thoroughly convinced of
+all this, that she never for one moment allowed herself to think of
+Lord Colambre as a lover. Duty, honour, and gratitude--gratitude,
+the strong feeling and principle of her mind--forbade it; she had
+so prepared and accustomed herself to consider him as a person with
+whom she could not possibly be united, that, with perfect ease
+and simplicity, she behaved towards him exactly as if he were her
+brother--not in the equivocating sentimental romance style in which
+ladies talk of treating men as their brothers, whom they are all the
+time secretly thinking of and endeavouring to please as lovers--not
+using this phrase, as a convenient pretence, a safe mode of securing
+herself from suspicion or scandal, and of enjoying the advantages of
+confidence and the intimacy of friendship, till the propitious moment,
+when it should be time to declare or avow _the secret of the heart_.
+No: this young lady was quite above all double dealing; she had no
+mental reservation--no metaphysical subtleties--but, with plain,
+unsophisticated morality, in good faith and simple truth, acted as she
+professed, thought what she said, and was that which she seemed to be.
+
+As soon as Lady Clonbrony was able to see any body, her niece sent to
+Mrs. Broadhurst, who was very intimate with the family; she used to
+come frequently, almost every evening, to sit with the invalid. Miss
+Broadhurst accompanied her mother, for she did not like to go out with
+any other chaperon--it was disagreeable to spend her time alone at
+home, and most agreeable to spend it with her friend Miss Nugent. In
+this she had no design; Miss Broadhurst had too lofty and independent
+a spirit to stoop to coquetry: she thought that, in their interview
+at the gala, she understood Lord Colambre, and that he understood
+her--that he was not inclined to court her for her fortune--that she
+would not be content with any suitor who was not a lover. She was two
+or three years older than Lord Colambre, perfectly aware of her want
+of beauty, yet with a just sense of her own merit, and of what was
+becoming and due to the dignity of her sex. This, she trusted, was
+visible in her manners, and established in Lord Colambre's mind; so
+that she ran no risk of being misunderstood by him; and as to what the
+rest of the world thought, she was so well used to hear weekly and
+daily reports of her going to be married to fifty different people,
+that she cared little for what was said on this subject. Indeed,
+conscious of rectitude, and with an utter contempt for mean and
+commonplace gossiping, she was, for a woman, and a young woman, rather
+too disdainful of the opinion of the world. Mrs. Broadhurst, though
+her daughter had fully explained herself respecting Lord Colambre,
+before she began this course of visiting, yet rejoiced that even on
+this footing there should be constant intercourse between them. It was
+Mrs. Broadhurst's warmest wish that her daughter should obtain rank,
+and connect herself with an ancient family; she was sensible that the
+young lady's being older than the gentleman might be an obstacle; and
+very sorry she was to find that her daughter had so imprudently, so
+unnecessarily, declared her age: but still this little obstacle might
+be overcome, much greater difficulties in the marriage of inferior
+heiresses being every day got over, and thought nothing of. Then, as
+to the young lady's own sentiments, her mother knew them better than
+she did herself: she understood her daughter's pride, that she dreaded
+to be made an object of bargain and sale; but Mrs. Broadhurst, who,
+with all her coarseness of mind, had rather a better notion of love
+matters than Lady Clonbrony, perceived, through her daughter's horror
+of being offered to Lord Colambre, through her anxiety that nothing
+approaching to an advance on the part of her family should be made,
+that if Lord Colambre should himself advance, he would stand a better
+chance of being accepted than any other of the numerous persons who
+had yet aspired to the favour of this heiress. The very circumstance
+of his having paid no court to her at first operated in his favour;
+for it proved that he was not mercenary, and that, whatever attention
+he might afterwards show, she must be sure would be sincere and
+disinterested.
+
+"And now, let them but see one another in this easy, intimate, kind
+of way; and you will find, my dear Lady Clonbrony, things will go on
+of their own accord, all the better for our--minding our cards--and
+never minding any thing else. I remember, when I was young--but let
+that pass--let the young people see one another, and manage their
+own affairs their own way--let them be together--that's all I say.
+Ask half the men you are acquainted with why they married, and
+their answer, if they speak truth, will be--'because I met Miss
+Such-a-one at such a place, and we were continually together.'
+Propinquity!--Propinquity!--as my father used to say--And he was
+married five times, and twice to heiresses."
+
+In consequence of this plan of leaving things to themselves, every
+evening Lady Clonbrony made out her own little card-table with Mrs.
+Broadhurst, and a Mr. and Miss Pratt, a brother and sister, who were
+the most obliging, convenient neighbours imaginable. From time to
+time, as Lady Clonbrony gathered up her cards, she would direct an
+inquiring glance to the group of young people at the other table;
+whilst the more prudent Mrs. Broadhurst sat plump with her back to
+them, pursing up her lips, and contracting her brows in token of
+deep calculation, looking down impenetrable at her cards, never even
+noticing Lady Clonbrony's glances, but inquiring from her partner,
+"How many they were by honours?"
+
+The young party generally consisted of Miss Broadhurst, Lord Colambre,
+Miss Nugent, and her admirer, Mr. Salisbury. Mr. Salisbury was a
+middle-aged gentleman, very agreeable, and well informed; he had
+travelled; had seen a great deal of the world; had lived in the
+best company; had acquired what is called good _tact_; was full of
+anecdote, not mere gossiping anecdotes that lead to nothing, but
+characteristic of national manners, of human nature in general, or
+of those illustrious individuals who excite public curiosity and
+interest. Miss Nugent had seen him always in large companies, where he
+was admired for his sçavoir-vivre, and for his entertaining anecdotes,
+but where he had no opportunity of producing any of the higher powers
+of his understanding, or showing character. She found that Mr.
+Salisbury appeared to her quite a different person when conversing
+with Lord Colambre. Lord Colambre, with that ardent thirst for
+knowledge which it is always agreeable to gratify, had an air of
+openness and generosity, a frankness, a warmth of manner, which,
+with good breeding, but with something beyond it and superior to its
+established forms, irresistibly won the confidence and attracted the
+affection of those with whom he conversed. His manners were peculiarly
+agreeable to a person like Mr. Salisbury, tired of the sameness and
+egotism of men of the world.
+
+Miss Nugent had seldom till now had the advantage of hearing
+much conversation on literary subjects. In the life she had been
+compelled to lead she had acquired accomplishments, had exercised
+her understanding upon every thing that passed before her, and from
+circumstances had formed her judgment and her taste by observations
+on real life; but the ample page of knowledge had never been unrolled
+to her eyes. She had never had opportunities of acquiring a taste
+for literature herself, but she admired it in others, particularly
+in her friend Miss Broadhurst. Miss Broadhurst had received all the
+advantages of education which money could procure, and had benefited
+by them in a manner uncommon among those for whom they are purchased
+in such abundance: she not only had had many masters, and read many
+books, but had thought of what she read, and had supplied, by the
+strength and energy of her own mind, what cannot be acquired by
+the assistance of masters. Miss Nugent, perhaps overvaluing the
+information that she did not possess, and free from all idea of
+envy, looked up to her friend as to a superior being, with a sort of
+enthusiastic admiration; and now, with "charmed attention," listened,
+by turns, to her, to Mr. Salisbury, and to Lord Colambre, whilst they
+conversed on literary subjects--listened, with a countenance so full
+of intelligence, of animation, so expressive of every good and kind
+affection, that the gentlemen did not always know what they were
+saying.
+
+"Pray go on," said she, once, to Mr. Salisbury: "you stop, perhaps,
+from politeness to me--from compassion to my ignorance; but though I
+am ignorant, you do not tire me, I assure you. Did you ever condescend
+to read the Arabian Tales? Like him whose eyes were touched by the
+magical application from the dervise, I am enabled at once to see the
+riches of a new world--Oh! how unlike, how superior to that in which I
+have lived--the GREAT world, as it is called!"
+
+Lord Colambre brought down a beautiful edition of the Arabian Tales,
+looked for the story to which Miss Nugent had alluded, and showed it
+to Miss Broadhurst, who was also searching for it in another volume.
+
+Lady Clonbrony, from her card-table, saw the young people thus
+engaged--
+
+"I profess not to understand these things so well as you say you do,
+my dear Mrs. Broadhurst," whispered she; "but look there now; they are
+at their books! What do you expect can come of that sort of thing? So
+ill bred, and downright rude of Colambre, I must give him a hint."
+
+"No, no, for mercy's sake! my dear Lady Clonbrony, no hints, no hints,
+no remarks! What would you have?--she reading, and my lord at the back
+of her chair leaning over--and allowed, mind, to lean over to read the
+same thing. Can't be better!--Never saw any man yet allowed to come so
+near her!--Now, Lady Clonbrony, not a word, not a look, I beseech."
+
+"Well, well!--but if they had a little music."
+
+"My daughter's tired of music. How much do I owe your ladyship
+now?--three rubbers, I think. Now, though you would not believe it of
+a young girl," continued Mrs. Broadhurst, "I can assure your ladyship,
+my daughter would often rather go to a book than a ball."
+
+"Well, now, that's very extraordinary, in the style in which she has
+been brought up; yet books and all that are so fashionable now, that
+it's very natural," said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+About this time, Mr. Berryl, Lord Colambre's Cambridge friend, for
+whom his lordship had fought the battle of the curricle with Mordicai,
+came to town. Lord Colambre introduced him to his mother, by whom he
+was graciously received; for Mr. Berryl was a young gentleman of good
+figure, good address, good family, heir to a good fortune, and in
+every respect a fit match for Miss Nugent. Lady Clonbrony thought that
+it would be wise to secure him for her niece before he should make
+his appearance in the London world, where mothers and daughters would
+soon make him feel his own consequence. Mr. Berryl, as Lord Colambre's
+intimate friend, was admitted to the private evening parties at Lady
+Clonbrony's; and he contributed to render them still more agreeable.
+His information, his habits of thinking, and his views, were
+all totally different from Mr. Salisbury's; and their collision
+continually struck out that sparkling novelty which pleases peculiarly
+in conversation. Mr. Berryl's education, disposition, and tastes,
+fitted him exactly for the station which he was destined to fill in
+society--that of _a country gentleman_; not meaning by that expression
+a mere eating, drinking, hunting, shooting, ignorant, country squire
+of the old race, which is now nearly extinct; but a cultivated,
+enlightened, independent English country gentleman--the happiest,
+perhaps, of human beings. On the comparative felicity of the town
+and country life; on the dignity, utility, elegance, and interesting
+nature of their different occupations, and general scheme of passing
+their time, Mr. Berryl and Mr. Salisbury had one evening a playful,
+entertaining, and, perhaps, instructive conversation; each party,
+at the end, remaining, as frequently happens, of their own opinion.
+It was observed, that Miss Broadhurst ably and warmly defended
+Mr. Berryl's side of the question; and in their views, plans, and
+estimates of life, there appeared a remarkable and, as Lord Colambre
+thought, a happy coincidence. When she was at last called upon to give
+her decisive judgment between a town and a country life, she declared
+that if she were condemned to the extremes of either, she should
+prefer a country life, as much as she should prefer Robinson Crusoe's
+diary to the journal of the idle man in the Spectator.
+
+"Lord bless me!--Mrs. Broadhurst, do you hear what your daughter is
+saying?" cried Lady Clonbrony, who, from the card-table, lent an
+attentive ear to all that was going forward. "Is it possible that Miss
+Broadhurst, with her fortune, and pretensions, and sense, can really
+be serious in saying she would be content to live in the country?"
+
+"What's that you say, child, about living in the country?" said Mrs.
+Broadhurst.
+
+Miss Broadhurst repeated what she had said.
+
+"Girls always think so who have lived in town," said Mrs. Broadhurst:
+"they are always dreaming of sheep and sheep-hooks; but the first
+winter in the country cures them: a shepherdess in winter is a sad and
+sorry sort of personage, except at a masquerade."
+
+"Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "I am sure Miss Broadhurst's
+sentiments about town life, and all that, must delight you--For do you
+know, ma'am, he is always trying to persuade me to give up living in
+town? Colambre and Miss Broadhurst perfectly agree."
+
+"Mind your cards, my dear Lady Clonbrony," interrupted Mrs.
+Broadhurst, "in pity to your partner. Mr. Pratt has certainly the
+patience of Job--your ladyship has revoked twice this hand."
+
+Lady Clonbrony begged a thousand pardons, fixed her eyes, and
+endeavoured to fix her mind on the cards; but there was something
+said at the other end of the room, about an estate in Cambridgeshire,
+which soon distracted her attention again. Mr. Pratt certainly had the
+patience of Job. She revoked again, and lost the game, though they had
+four by honours.
+
+As soon as she rose from the card-table, and could speak to Mrs.
+Broadhurst apart, she communicated her apprehensions. "Seriously, my
+dear madam," said she, "I believe I have done very wrong to admit
+Mr. Berryl just now, though it was on Grace's account I did it. But,
+ma'am, I did not know Miss Broadhurst had an estate in Cambridgeshire;
+their two estates just close to one another, I heard them say--Lord
+bless me, ma'am! there's the danger of propinquity indeed!"
+
+"No danger, no danger," persisted Mrs. Broadhurst. "I know my girl
+better than you do, begging your ladyship's pardon. No one thinks less
+of estates than she does."
+
+"Well, I only know I heard her talking of them, and earnestly too."
+
+"Yes, very likely; but don't you know that girls never think of what
+they are talking about, or rather never talk of what they are thinking
+about? And they have always ten times more to say to the man they
+don't care for than to him they do."
+
+"Very extraordinary!" said Lady Clonbrony: "I only hope you are
+right."
+
+"I am sure of it," said Mrs. Broadhurst. "Only let things go on,
+and mind your cards, I beseech you, to-morrow night better than
+you did to-night; and you will see that things will turn out just
+as I prophesied. Lord Colambre will come to a point-blank proposal
+before the end of the week, and will be accepted, or my name's not
+Broadhurst. Why, in plain English, I am clear my girl likes him; and
+when that's the case, you know, can you doubt how the thing will end?"
+
+Mrs. Broadhurst was perfectly right in every point of her reasoning
+but one. From long habit of seeing and considering that such an
+heiress as her daughter might marry whom she pleased,--from constantly
+seeing that she was the person to decide and to reject,--Mrs.
+Broadhurst had literally taken it for granted that every thing was to
+depend upon her daughter's inclinations: she was not mistaken, in the
+present case, in opining that the young lady would not be averse to
+Lord Colambre, if he came to what she called a point-blank proposal.
+It really never occurred to Mrs. Broadhurst, that any man whom her
+daughter was the least inclined to favour, could think of any body
+else. Quick-sighted in these affairs as the matron thought herself,
+she saw but one side of the question: blind and dull of comprehension
+as she thought Lady Clonbrony on this subject, Mrs. Broadhurst
+was herself so completely blinded by her own prejudices, as to be
+incapable of discerning the plain thing that was before her eyes;
+_videlicet_, that Lord Colambre preferred Grace Nugent. Lord Colambre
+made no proposal before the end of the week; but this Mrs. Broadhurst
+attributed to an unexpected occurrence, which prevented things from
+going on in the train in which they had been proceeding so smoothly.
+Sir John Berryl, Mr. Berryl's father, was suddenly seized with a
+dangerous illness. The news was brought to Mr. Berryl one evening
+whilst he was at Lady Clonbrony's. The circumstances of domestic
+distress which afterwards occurred in the family of his friend,
+entirely occupied Lord Colambre's time and attention. All thoughts
+of love were suspended, and his whole mind was given up to the
+active services of friendship. The sudden illness of Sir John Berryl
+spread an alarm among his creditors, which brought to light at once
+the disorder of his affairs, of which his son had no knowledge or
+suspicion. Lady Berryl had been a very expensive woman, especially in
+equipages; and Mordicai, the coachmaker, appeared at this time the
+foremost and the most inexorable of their creditors. Conscious that
+the charges in his account were exorbitant, and that they would not be
+allowed if examined by a court of justice; that it was a debt which
+only ignorance and extravagance could have in the first instance
+incurred, swelled afterwards to an amazing amount by interest, and
+interest upon interest; Mordicai was impatient to obtain payment,
+whilst Sir John yet lived, or at least to obtain legal security for
+the whole sum from the heir. Mr. Berryl offered his bond for the
+amount of the reasonable charges in his account; but this Mordicai
+absolutely refused, declaring that now he had the power in his own
+hands, he would use it to obtain the utmost penny of his debt; that
+he would not let the thing slip through his fingers; that a debtor
+never yet escaped him, and never should; that a man's lying upon his
+deathbed was no excuse to a creditor; that he was not a whiffler to
+stand upon ceremony about disturbing a gentleman in his last moments;
+that he was not to be cheated out of his due by such niceties; that he
+was prepared to go all lengths the law would allow; for that, as to
+what people said of him, he did not care a doit--"Cover your face with
+your hands, if you like it, Mr. Berryl; you may be ashamed for me, but
+I feel no shame for myself--I am not so weak." Mordicai's countenance
+said more than his words; livid with malice, and with atrocious
+determination in his eyes, he stood. "Yes, sir," said he, "you may
+look at me as you please--it is possible--I am in earnest. Consult
+what you'll do now behind my back, or before my face, it comes to the
+same thing; for nothing will do but my money or your bond, Mr. Berryl.
+The arrest is made on the person of your father, luckily made while
+the breath is still in the body--Yes--start forward to strike me, if
+you dare--Your father, Sir John Berryl, sick or well, is my prisoner."
+
+Lady Berryl and Mr. Berryl's sisters, in an agony of grief, rushed
+into the room.
+
+"It's all useless," cried Mordicai, turning his back upon the ladies:
+"these tricks upon creditors won't do with me; I'm used to these
+scenes; I'm not made of such stuff as you think. Leave a gentleman in
+peace in his last moments--No! he ought not, nor sha'n't die in peace,
+if he don't pay his debts; and if you are all so mighty sorry, ladies,
+there's the gentleman you may kneel to: if tenderness is the order of
+the day, it's for the son to show it, not me. Ay, now, Mr. Berryl,"
+cried he, as Mr. Berryl took up the bond to sign it, "you're beginning
+to know I'm not a fool to be trifled with. Stop your hand, if you
+choose it, sir,--it's all the same to me: the person, or the money,
+I'll carry with me out of this house."
+
+Mr. Berryl signed the bond, and threw it to him.
+
+"There, monster!--quit the house!"
+
+"_Monster_ is not actionable--I wish you had called me _knave_,"
+said Mordicai, grinning a horrible smile; and taking up the bond
+deliberately, returned it to Mr. Berryl: "This paper is worth nothing
+to me, sir--it is not witnessed."
+
+Mr. Berryl hastily left the room, and returned with Lord Colambre.
+Mordicai changed countenance and grew pale, for a moment, at sight of
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"Well, my lord, since it so happens, I am not sorry that you should be
+witness to this paper," said he; "and indeed not sorry that you should
+witness the whole proceedings; for I trust I shall be able to explain
+to you my conduct."
+
+"I do not come here, sir," interrupted Lord Colambre, "to listen to
+any explanations of your conduct, which I perfectly understand;--I
+come to witness a bond for my friend Mr. Berryl, if you think proper
+to extort from him such a bond."
+
+"I extort nothing, my lord. Mr. Berryl, it is quite a voluntary act,
+take notice, on your part; sign or not, witness or not, as you please,
+gentlemen," said Mordicai, sticking his hands in his pockets, and
+recovering his look of black and fixed determination.
+
+"Witness it, witness it, my dear lord," said Mr. Berryl, looking at
+his mother and weeping sisters; "witness it, quick!"
+
+"Mr. Berryl must just run over his name again in your presence,
+my lord, with a dry pen," said Mordicai, putting the pen into Mr.
+Berryl's hand.
+
+"No, sir," said Lord Colambre, "my friend shall never sign it."
+
+"As you please, my lord--the bond or the body, before I quit this
+house," said Mordicai.
+
+"Neither, sir, shall you have: and you quit this house directly."
+
+"How! how!--my lord, how's this?"
+
+"Sir, the arrest you have made is as illegal as it is inhuman."
+
+"Illegal, my lord!" said Mordicai, startled.
+
+"Illegal, sir. I came into this house at the moment when your bailiff
+asked and was refused admittance. Afterwards, in the confusion of the
+family above stairs, he forced open the house-door with an iron bar--I
+saw him--I am ready to give evidence of the fact. Now proceed at your
+peril."
+
+Mordicai, without reply, snatched up his hat, and walked towards the
+door; but Lord Colambre held the door open--it was immediately at the
+head of the stairs--and Mordicai, seeing his indignant look and proud
+form, hesitated to pass; for he had always heard that Irishmen are
+"quick in the executive part of justice."
+
+"Pass on, sir," repeated Lord Colambre, with an air of ineffable
+contempt: "I am a gentleman--you have nothing to fear!"
+
+Mordicai ran down stairs; Lord Colambre, before he went back into
+the room, waited to see him and his bailiff out of the house. When
+Mordicai was fairly at the bottom of the stairs, he turned, and, white
+with rage, looked up at Lord Colambre.
+
+"Charity begins at home, my lord," said he. "Look at home--you shall
+pay for this," added he, standing half-shielded by the house-door, for
+Lord Colambre moved forward as he spoke the last words; "and I give
+you this warning, because I know it will be of no use to you--Your
+most obedient, my lord." The house-door closed after him.
+
+"Thank Heaven," thought Lord Colambre, "that I did not horsewhip that
+mean wretch!--This warning shall be of use to me. But it is not time
+to think of that yet."
+
+Lord Colambre turned from his own affairs to those of his friend, to
+offer all the assistance and consolation in his power. Sir John Berryl
+died that night. His daughters, who had lived in the highest style in
+London, were left totally unprovided for. His widow had mortgaged her
+jointure. Mr. Berryl had an estate now left to him, but without any
+income. He could not be so dishonest as to refuse to pay his father's
+just debts; he could not let his mother and sisters starve. The scene
+of distress to which Lord Colambre was witness in this family made a
+still greater impression upon him than had been made by the warning or
+the threats of Mordicai. The similarity between the circumstances of
+his friend's family and of his own struck him forcibly.
+
+All this evil had arisen from Lady Berryl's passion for living
+in London and at watering places. She had made her husband an
+ABSENTEE--an absentee from his home, his affairs, his duties, and his
+estate. The sea, the Irish Channel, did not, indeed, flow between him
+and his estate; but it was of little importance whether the separation
+was effected by land or water--the consequences, the negligence, the
+extravagance, were the same.
+
+Of the few people of his age who are capable of benefiting by the
+experience of others, Lord Colambre was one. "Experience," as an
+elegant writer has observed, "is an article that may be borrowed with
+safety, and is often dearly bought."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+In the mean time, Lady Clonbrony had been occupied with thoughts very
+different from those which passed in the mind of her son. Though she
+had never completely recovered from her rheumatic pains, she had
+become inordinately impatient of confinement to her own house, and
+weary of those dull evenings at home, which had, in her son's absence,
+become insupportable. She told over her visiting tickets regularly
+twice a day, and gave to every card of invitation a heartfelt sigh.
+Miss Pratt alarmed her ladyship, by bringing intelligence of some
+parties given by persons of consequence, to which she was not invited.
+She feared that she should be forgotten in the world, well knowing
+how soon the world forgets those they do not see every day and every
+where. How miserable is the fine lady's lot, who cannot forget, and
+who is forgotten by the world in a moment! How much more miserable
+still is the condition of a would-be fine lady, working her way up in
+the world with care and pains! By her, every the slightest failure of
+attention, from persons of rank and fashion, is marked and felt with a
+jealous anxiety, and with a sense of mortification the most acute--an
+invitation omitted is a matter of the most serious consequence, not
+only as it regards the present but the future; for if she be not
+invited by Lady A, it will lower her in the eyes of Lady B, and of
+all the ladies in the alphabet. It will form a precedent of the most
+dangerous and inevitable application. If she have nine invitations,
+and the tenth be wanting, the nine have no power to make her happy.
+This was precisely Lady Clonbrony's case--there was to be a party at
+Lady St. James's, for which Lady Clonbrony had no card.
+
+"So ungrateful, so monstrous, of Lady St. James!--What! was the gala
+so soon forgotten, and all the marked attentions paid that night to
+Lady St. James!--attentions, you know, Pratt, which were looked upon
+with a jealous eye, and made me enemies enough, I am told, in another
+quarter!--Of all people, I did not expect to be slighted by Lady St.
+James!"
+
+Miss Pratt, who was ever ready to undertake the defence of any person
+who had a title, pleaded, in mitigation of censure that perhaps Lady
+St. James might not be aware that her ladyship was yet well enough to
+venture out.
+
+"Oh, my dear Miss Pratt, that cannot be the thing; for, in spite of my
+rheumatism, which really was bad enough last Sunday, I went on purpose
+to the Royal Chapel, to show myself in the closet, and knelt close to
+her ladyship.--And, my dear, we curtsied, and she congratulated me,
+after church, upon my being abroad again, and was so happy to see me
+look so well, and all that--Oh! it is something very extraordinary and
+unaccountable!"
+
+"But, I dare say, a card will come yet," said Miss Pratt.
+
+Upon this hint, Lady Clonbrony's hope revived; and, staying her anger,
+she began to consider how she could manage to get herself invited.
+Refreshing tickets were left next morning at Lady St. James's with
+their corners properly turned up; to do the thing better, separate
+tickets from herself and Miss Nugent were left for each member of the
+family; and her civil messages, left with the footmen, extended to the
+utmost possibility of remainder. It had occurred to her ladyship, that
+for Miss Somebody, _the companion_, of whom she had never in her life
+thought before, she had omitted to leave a card last time, and she
+now left a note of explanation; she farther, with her rheumatic head
+and arm out of the coach-window, sat, the wind blowing keen upon
+her, explaining to the porter and the footman, to discover whether
+her former tickets had gone safely up to Lady St. James; and on the
+present occasion, to make assurance doubly sure, she slid handsome
+expedition money into the servant's hand--"Sir, you will be sure to
+remember"--"Oh, certainly, your ladyship."
+
+She well knew what dire offence has frequently been taken, what sad
+disasters have occurred in the fashionable world, from the neglect of
+a porter in delivering, or of a footman in carrying up, one of those
+talismanic cards. But, in spite of all her manoeuvres, no invitation
+to the party arrived next day. Pratt was next set to work. Miss Pratt
+was a most convenient go-between, who, in consequence of doing a
+thousand little services, to which few others of her rank in life
+would stoop, had obtained the entrée to a number of great houses, and
+was behind the scenes in many fashionable families. Pratt could find
+out, and Pratt could hint, and Pratt could manage to get things done
+cleverly--and hints were given, in all directions, to _work round_
+to Lady St. James. But still they did not take effect. At last Pratt
+suggested, that perhaps, though every thing else had failed, dried
+salmon might be tried with success. Lord Clonbrony had just had some
+uncommonly good from Ireland, which Pratt knew Lady St. James would
+like to have at her supper, because a certain personage, whom she
+would not name, was particularly fond of it--Wheel within wheel in
+the fine world, as well as in the political world!--Bribes for all
+occasions and for all ranks!--The timely present was sent, accepted
+with many thanks, and understood as it was meant. Per favour of this
+propitiatory offering, and of a promise of half a dozen pair of
+real Limerick gloves to Miss Pratt--a promise which Pratt clearly
+comprehended to be a conditional promise--the grand object was at
+length accomplished. The very day before the party was to take place
+came cards of invitation to Lady Clonbrony and to Miss Nugent, with
+Lady St. James's apologies: her ladyship was concerned to find that,
+by some negligence of her servants, these cards were not sent in
+proper time. "How slight an apology will do from some people!" thought
+Miss Nugent; "how eager to forgive, when it is for our interest or
+our pleasure! how well people act the being deceived, even when all
+parties know that they see the whole truth! and how low pride will
+stoop to gain its object!"
+
+Ashamed of the whole transaction, Miss Nugent earnestly wished that a
+refusal should be sent, and reminded her aunt of her rheumatism; but
+rheumatism and all other objections were overruled--Lady Clonbrony
+would go. It was just when this affair was thus, in her opinion,
+successfully settled, that Lord Colambre came in, with a countenance
+of unusual seriousness, his mind full of the melancholy scenes he had
+witnessed in his friend's family.
+
+"What is the matter, Colambre?"
+
+He related what had passed; he described the brutal conduct of
+Mordicai; the anguish of the mother and sisters; the distress of
+Mr. Berryl. Tears rolled down Miss Nugent's cheeks--Lady Clonbrony
+declared it was very _shocking_; listened with attention to all the
+particulars; but never failed to correct her son, whenever he said Mr.
+Berryl--
+
+"_Sir Arthur_ Berryl, you mean."
+
+She was, however, really touched with compassion when he spoke of Lady
+Berryl's destitute condition; and her son was going on to repeat what
+Mordicai had said to him, but Lady Clonbrony interrupted, "Oh, my dear
+Colambre! don't repeat that detestable man's impertinent speeches to
+me. If there is any thing really about business, speak to your father.
+At any rate don't tell us of it now, because I've a hundred things
+to do," said her ladyship, hurrying out of the room--"Grace, Grace
+Nugent! I want you!"
+
+Lord Colambre sighed deeply.
+
+"Don't despair," said Miss Nugent, as she followed to obey her aunt's
+summons. "Don't despair; don't attempt to speak to her again till
+to-morrow morning. Her head is now full of Lady St. James's party.
+When it is emptied of that, you will have a better chance. Never
+despair."
+
+"Never, while you encourage me to hope--that any good can be done."
+
+Lady Clonbrony was particularly glad that she had carried her point
+about this party at Lady St. James's; because, from the first private
+intimation that the Duchess of Torcaster was to be there, her ladyship
+flattered herself that the long-desired introduction might then be
+accomplished. But of this hope Lady St. James had likewise received
+intimation from the double-dealing Miss Pratt; and a warning note was
+despatched to the duchess to let her grace know that circumstances
+had occurred which had rendered it impossible not to _ask the
+Clonbronies_. An excuse, of course, for not going to this party, was
+sent by the duchess--her grace did not like large parties--she would
+have the pleasure of accepting Lady St. James's invitation for her
+select party on Wednesday, the 10th. Into these select parties Lady
+Clonbrony had never been admitted. In return for great entertainments
+she was invited to great entertainments, to large parties; but further
+she could never penetrate.
+
+At Lady St. James's, and with her set, Lady Clonbrony suffered a
+different kind of mortification from that which Lady Langdale and Mrs.
+Dareville made her endure. She was safe from the witty raillery,
+the sly inuendo, the insolent mimicry; but she was kept at a cold,
+impassable distance, by ceremony--"So far shalt thou go, and no
+further," was expressed in every look, in every word, and in a
+thousand different ways.
+
+By the most punctilious respect and nice regard to precedency, even
+by words of courtesy--"Your ladyship does me honour," &c.--Lady St.
+James contrived to mortify and to mark the difference between those
+with whom she was, and with whom she was not, upon terms of intimacy
+and equality. Thus the ancient grandees of Spain drew a line of
+demarcation between themselves and the newly created nobility.
+Whenever or wherever they met, they treated the new nobles with the
+utmost respect, never addressed them but with all their titles, with
+low bows, and with all the appearance of being, with the most perfect
+consideration, anything but their equals; whilst towards one another
+the grandees laid aside their state, and omitting their titles, it was
+"Alcalá--Medina Sidonia--Infantado," and a freedom and familiarity
+which marked equality. Entrenched in etiquette in this manner, and
+mocked with marks of respect, it was impossible either to intrude or
+to complain of being excluded.
+
+At supper at Lady St. James's, Lady Clonbrony's present was pronounced
+by some gentlemen to be remarkably high flavoured. This observation
+turned the conversation to Irish commodities and Ireland. Lady
+Clonbrony, possessed by the idea that it was disadvantageous to appear
+as an Irishwoman or as a favourer of Ireland, began to be embarrassed
+by Lady St. James's repeated thanks. Had it been in her power to offer
+any thing else with propriety, she would not have thought of sending
+her ladyship any thing from Ireland. Vexed by the questions that were
+asked her about her _country_, Lady Clonbrony, as usual, denied it to
+be her country, and went on to depreciate and abuse every thing Irish;
+to declare that there was no possibility of living in Ireland; and
+that, for her own part, she was resolved never to return thither. Lady
+St. James, preserving perfect silence, let her go on. Lady Clonbrony
+imagining that this silence arose from coincidence of opinion,
+proceeded with all the eloquence she possessed, which was very little,
+repeating the same exclamations, and reiterating her vow of perpetual
+expatriation; till at last an elderly lady, who was a stranger to
+her, and whom she had till this moment scarcely noticed, took up the
+defence of Ireland with much warmth and energy: the eloquence with
+which she spoke, and the respect with which she was heard, astonished
+Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"Who is she?" whispered her ladyship.
+
+"Does not your ladyship know Lady Oranmore--the Irish Lady Oranmore?"
+
+"Lord bless me!--what have I said!--what have I done!--Oh! why did you
+not give me a hint, Lady St. James?"
+
+"I was not aware that your ladyship was not acquainted with Lady
+Oranmore," replied Lady St. James, unmoved by her distress.
+
+Every body sympathized with Lady Oranmore, and admired the honest zeal
+with which she abided by her country, and defended it against unjust
+aspersions and affected execrations. Every one present enjoyed Lady
+Clonbrony's confusion, except Miss Nugent, who sat with her eyes bowed
+down by penetrative shame during the whole of this scene: she was glad
+that Lord Colambre was not witness to it; and comforted herself with
+the hope that, upon the whole, Lady Clonbrony would be benefited by
+the pain she had felt. This instance might convince her that it was
+not necessary to deny her country to be received in any company in
+England; and that those who have the courage and steadiness to be
+themselves, and to support what they feel and believe to be the truth,
+must command respect. Miss Nugent hoped that in consequence of this
+conviction Lady Clonbrony would lay aside the little affectations by
+which her manners were painfully constrained and ridiculous; and,
+above all, she hoped that what Lady Oranmore had said of Ireland might
+dispose her aunt to listen with patience to all Lord Colambre might
+urge in favour of returning to her home. But Miss Nugent hoped in
+vain. Lady Clonbrony never in her life generalized any observations,
+or drew any but a partial conclusion from the most striking facts.
+
+"Lord! my dear Grace!" said she, as soon as they were seated in
+their carriage, "what a scrape I got into to-night at supper, and
+what disgrace I came to!--and all this because I did not know Lady
+Oranmore. Now you see the inconceivable disadvantage of not knowing
+every body--every body of a certain rank, of course, I mean."
+
+Miss Nugent endeavoured to slide in her own moral on the occasion, but
+it would not do.
+
+"Yes, my dear, Lady Oranmore may talk in that kind of style of
+Ireland, because, on the other hand, she is so highly connected in
+England; and, besides, she is an old lady, and may take liberties; in
+short, she is Lady Oranmore, and that's enough."
+
+The next morning, when they all met at breakfast, Lady Clonbrony
+complained bitterly of her increased rheumatism, of the disagreeable,
+stupid party they had had the preceding night, and of the necessity of
+going to another formal party to-morrow night, and the next, and the
+next night, and, in the true fine lady style, deplored her situation,
+and the impossibility of avoiding those things,
+
+  "Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel."
+
+Miss Nugent determined to retire as soon as she could from the
+breakfast-room, to leave Lord Colambre an opportunity of talking over
+his family affairs at full liberty. She knew by the seriousness of
+his countenance that his mind was intent upon doing so, and she hoped
+that his influence with his father and mother would not be exerted in
+vain. But just as she was rising from the breakfast-table, in came Sir
+Terence O'Fay, and seating himself quite at his ease, in spite of Lady
+Clonbrony's repulsive looks, his awe of Lord Colambre having now worn
+off, "I'm tired," said he, "and have a right to be tired; for it's no
+small walk I've taken for the good of this noble family this morning.
+And, Miss Nugent, before I say more, I'll take a cup of _ta_ from you,
+if you please."
+
+Lady Clonbrony rose, with great stateliness, and walked to the
+farthest end of the room, where she established herself at her
+writing-table, and began to write notes.
+
+Sir Terence wiped his forehead deliberately.--"Then I've had a fine
+run--Miss Nugent, I believe you never saw me run; but I can run, I
+promise you, when it's to serve a friend--And my lord (turning to
+Lord Clonbrony), what do you think I run for this morning--to buy a
+bargain--and of what?--a bargain of a bad debt--a debt of yours, which
+I bargained for, and up just in time--and Mordicai's ready to hang
+himself this minute--For what do you think that rascal was bringing
+upon you--but an execution?--he was."
+
+"An execution!" repeated every body present, except Lord Colambre.
+
+"And how has this been prevented, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh! let me alone for that," said Sir Terence. "I got a hint from
+my little friend, Paddy Brady, who would not be paid for it either,
+though he's as poor as a rat. Well! as soon as I got the hint, I
+dropped the thing I had in my hand, which was the Dublin Evening,
+and ran for the bare life--for there wasn't a coach--in my slippers,
+as I was, to get into the prior creditor's shoes, who is the little
+solicitor that lives in Crutched Friars, which Mordicai never dreamt
+of, luckily; so he was very genteel, though he was taken on a sudden,
+and from his breakfast, which an Englishman don't like particularly--I
+popped him a douceur of a draft, at thirty-one days, on Garraghty,
+the agent; of which he must get notice; but I won't descant on the
+law before the ladies--he handed me over his debt and execution, and
+he made me prior creditor in a trice. Then I took coach in state, the
+first I met, and away with me to Long Acre--saw Mordicai. 'Sir,' says
+I, 'I hear you're meditating an execution on a friend of mine.'--'Am
+I?' said the rascal; 'who told you so?'--'No matter,' said I; 'but
+I just called in to let you know there's no use in life of your
+execution; for there's a prior creditor with his execution to be
+satisfied first.' So he made a great many black faces, and said a
+great deal, which I never listened to, but came off here clean to tell
+you all the story."
+
+"Not one word of which do I understand," said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"Then, my dear, you are very ungrateful," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+Lord Colambre said nothing, for he wished to learn more of Sir Terence
+O'Fay's character, of the state of his father's affairs, and of the
+family methods of proceeding in matters of business.
+
+"Faith! Terry, I know I'm very thankful to you--But an execution's an
+ugly thing,--and I hope there's no danger."
+
+"Never fear!" said Sir Terence: "hav'n't I been at my wits' ends for
+myself or my friends ever since I come to man's estate--to years of
+discretion, I should say, for the deuce a foot of estate have I! But
+use has sharpened my wits pretty well for your service; so never be in
+dread, my good lord; for look ye!" cried the reckless knight, sticking
+his arms akimbo, "look ye here! in Sir Terence O'Fay stands a host
+that desires no better than to encounter, single-witted, all the duns
+in the united kingdoms, Mordicai the Jew inclusive."
+
+"Ah! that's the devil, that Mordicai," said Lord Clonbrony; "that's
+the only man on earth I dread."
+
+"Why, he is only a coachmaker, is not he?" said Lady Clonbrony: "I
+can't think how you can talk, my lord, of dreading such a low man.
+Tell him, if he's troublesome, we won't bespeak any more carriages;
+and, I'm sure, I wish you would not be so silly, my lord, to employ
+him any more, when you know he disappointed me the last birthday about
+the landau, which I have not got yet."
+
+"Nonsense, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony; "you don't know what you are
+talking of--Terry, I say, even a friendly execution is an ugly thing."
+
+"Phoo! phoo!--an ugly thing!--So is a fit of the gout--but one's all
+the better for it after. 'Tis just a renewal of life, my, lord, for
+which one must pay a bit of a fine, you know. Take patience, and leave
+me to manage all properly--you know I'm used to these things: only you
+recollect, if you please, how I managed my friend Lord----it's bad to
+be mentioning names--but Lord _Every-body-knows-who_--didn't I bring
+him through cleverly, when there was that rascally attempt to seize
+the family plate? I had notice, and what did I do, but broke open
+a partition between that lord's house and my lodgings, which I had
+taken next door; and so, when the sheriffs officers were searching
+below on the ground floor, I just shoved the plate easy through to
+my bedchamber at a moment's warning, and then bid the gentlemen walk
+in, for they couldn't set a foot in my paradise, the devils!--So they
+stood looking at it through the wall, and cursing me, and I holding
+both my sides with laughter at their fallen faces."
+
+Sir Terence and Lord Clonbrony laughed in concert.
+
+"This is a good story," said Miss Nugent, smiling; "but surely, Sir
+Terence, such things are never done in real life?"
+
+"Done! ay, are they; and I could tell you a hundred better strokes, my
+dear Miss Nugent."
+
+"Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony, "do pray have the goodness to seal and
+send these notes; for really," whispered she, as her niece came to the
+table, "I _cawnt stee_, I _cawnt_ bear that man's _vice_, his accent
+grows horrider and horrider!"
+
+Her ladyship rose, and left the room.
+
+"Why, then," continued Sir Terence, following Miss Nugent to the
+table, where she was sealing letters--"I must tell you how I _sa_rved
+that same man on another occasion, and got the victory, too."
+
+No general officer could talk of his victories, or fight his battles
+o'er again, with more complacency than Sir Terence O'Fay recounted his
+_civil_ exploits.
+
+"Now I'll tell you, Miss Nugent. There was a footman in the family,
+not an Irishman, but one of your powdered English scoundrels that
+ladies are so fond of having hanging to the backs of their carriages;
+one Fleming he was, that turned spy, and traitor, and informer, went
+privately and gave notice to the creditors where the plate was hid
+in the thickness of the chimney; but if he did, what happened? Why,
+I had my counter-spy, an honest little Irish boy, in the creditor's
+shop, that I had secured with a little douceur of usquebaugh; and
+he outwitted, as was natural, the English lying valet, and gave us
+notice, just in the nick, and I got ready for their reception; and,
+Miss Nugent, I only wish you'd seen the excellent sport we had,
+letting them follow the scent they got; and when they were sure of
+their game, what did they find?--Ha! ha! ha!--dragged out, after a
+world of labour, a heavy box of--a load of brick-bats; not an item
+of my friend's plate, that was all snug in the coal-hole, where them
+dunces never thought of looking for it--Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+"But come, Terry," cried Lord Clonbrony, "I'll pull down your
+pride.--How finely, another time, your job of the false ceiling
+answered in the hall. I've heard that story, and have been told how
+the sheriff's fellow thrust his bayonet up through your false plaster,
+and down came tumbling the family plate--hey! Terry?--That hit cost
+your friend, Lord Every-body-knows-who, more than your head's worth,
+Terry."
+
+"I ask your pardon, my lord, it never cost him a farthing."
+
+"When he paid 7000_l._ for the plate, to redeem it?"
+
+"Well! and did not I make up for that at the races of ----? The
+creditors learned that my lord's horse, Naboclish, was to run at ----
+races; and, as the sheriff's officer knew he dare not touch him on the
+race-ground, what does he do, but he comes down early in the morning
+on the mail-coach, and walks straight down to the livery stables.
+He had an exact description of the stables, and the stall, and the
+horse's body clothes.
+
+"I was there, seeing the horse taken care of; and, knowing the cut
+of the fellow's jib, what does I do, but whips the body clothes off
+Naboclish, and claps them upon a garrone, that the priest would not
+ride.
+
+"In comes the bailiff--'Good morrow to you, sir,' says I, leading out
+of the stable my lord's horse, with an _ould_ saddle and bridle on.
+
+"'Tim Neal,' says I to the groom, who was rubbing down the garrone's
+heels, 'mind your hits to-day, and _wee'l_ wet the plate to-night."
+
+"'Not so fast, neither,' says the bailiff--'here's my writ for seizing
+the horse.'
+
+"'Och,' says I, 'you wouldn't be so cruel.'
+
+"'That's all my eye,' says he, seizing the garrone, while I mounted
+Naboclish, and rode him off deliberately."
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!--That _was_ neat, I grant you, Terry," said Lord
+Clonbrony. "But what a dolt of a born ignoramus must that sheriff's
+fellow have been, not to know Naboclish when he saw him!"
+
+"But stay, my lord--stay, Miss Nugent--I have more for you," following
+her wherever she moved--"I did not let him off so, even. At the cant,
+I bid and bid against them for the pretended Naboclish, till I left
+him on their hands for 500 guineas--ha! ha! ha!--was not that famous?"
+
+"But," said Miss Nugent, "I cannot believe you are in earnest, Sir
+Terence--Surely this would be--"
+
+"What?--out with it, my dear Miss Nugent."
+
+"I am afraid of offending you."
+
+"You can't, my dear, I defy you--say the word that came to the
+tongue's end; it's always the best."
+
+"I was going to say, swindling," said the young lady, colouring
+deeply.
+
+"Oh, you was going to say wrong, then! It's not called swindling
+amongst gentlemen who know the world--it's only jockeying--fine
+sport--and very honourable to help a friend at a dead lift. Any thing
+to help a friend out of a present pressing difficulty."
+
+"And when the present difficulty is over, do your friends never think
+of the future?"
+
+"The future! leave the future to posterity," said Sir Terence; "I'm
+counsel only for the present; and when the evil comes, it's time
+enough to think of it. I can't bring the guns of my wits to bear till
+the enemy's alongside of me, or within sight of me at the least. And
+besides, there never was a good commander yet, by sea or land, that
+would tell his little expedients beforehand, or before the very day of
+battle."
+
+"It must be a sad thing," said Miss Nugent, sighing deeply, "to be
+reduced to live by little expedients--daily expedients."
+
+Lord Colambre struck his forehead, but said nothing.
+
+"But if you are beating your brains about your own affairs, my Lord
+Colambre, my dear," said Sir Terence, "there's an easy way of settling
+your family affairs at once; and since you don't like little daily
+expedients, Miss Nugent, there's one great expedient, and an expedient
+for life, that will settle it all to your satisfaction--and ours. I
+hinted it delicately to you before; but, between friends, delicacy is
+impertinent; so I tell you, in plain English, you've nothing to do but
+go and propose yourself, just as you stand, to the heiress Miss B----,
+that desires no better--"
+
+"Sir!" cried Lord Colambre, stepping forward, red with sudden anger.
+
+Miss Nugent laid her hand upon his arm. "Oh, my lord!"
+
+"Sir Terence O'Fay," continued Lord Colambre, in a moderated tone,
+"you are wrong to mention that young lady's name in such a manner."
+
+"Why then I said only Miss B----, and there are a whole hive of
+_bees_. But I'll engage she'd thank me for what I suggested, and think
+herself the queen bee if my expedient was adopted by you."
+
+"Sir Terence," said his lordship, smiling, "if my father thinks proper
+that you should manage his affairs, and devise expedients for him, I
+have nothing to say on that point; but I must beg you will not trouble
+yourself to suggest expedients for me, and that you will have the
+goodness to leave me to settle my own affairs."
+
+Sir Terence made a low bow, and was silent for five seconds; then
+turning to Lord Clonbrony, who looked much more abashed than he
+did, "By the wise one, my good lord, I believe there are some
+men--noblemen, too--that don't know their friends from their enemies.
+It's my firm persuasion, now, that if I had served you as I served my
+friend I was talking of, your son there would, ten to one, think I had
+done him an injury by saving the family plate."
+
+"I certainly should, sir. The family plate, sir, is not the first
+object in my mind," replied Lord Colambre; "family honour--Nay, Miss
+Nugent, I must speak," continued his lordship; perceiving, by her
+countenance, that she was alarmed.
+
+"Never fear, Miss Nugent, dear," said Sir Terence; "I'm as cool as
+a cucumber.--Faith! then, my Lord Colambre, I agree with you, that
+family honour's a mighty fine thing, only troublesome to one's self
+and one's friends, and expensive to keep up with all the other
+expenses and debts a gentleman has now-a-days. So I, that am under no
+natural obligations to it by birth or otherwise, have just stood by it
+through life, and asked myself, before I would volunteer being bound
+to it, what could this same family honour do for a man in this world?
+And, first and foremost, I never remember to see family honour stand
+a man in much stead in a court of law--never saw family honour stand
+against an execution, or a custodiam, or an injunction even.--'Tis
+a rare thing, this same family honour, and a very fine thing; but I
+never knew it yet, at a pinch, pay for a pair of boots even," added
+Sir Terence, drawing up his own with much complacency.
+
+At this moment, Sir Terence was called out of the room by one who
+wanted to speak to him on particular business.
+
+"My dear father," cried Lord Colambre, "do not follow him; stay, for
+one moment, and hear your son, your true friend."
+
+Miss Nugent left the room.
+
+"Hear your natural friend for one moment," cried Lord Colambre. "Let
+me beseech you, father, not to have recourse to any of these paltry
+expedients, but trust your son with the state of your affairs, and we
+shall find some honourable means--"
+
+"Yes, yes, yes, very true; when you're of age, Colambre, we'll talk of
+it; but nothing can be done till then. We shall get on, we shall get
+through, very well, till then, with Terry's assistance; and I must beg
+you will not say a word more against Terry--I can't bear it--I can't
+bear it--I can't do without him. Pray don't detain me--I can say no
+more--except," added he, returning to his usual concluding sentence,
+"that there need, at all events, be none of this, if people would but
+live upon their own estates, and kill their own mutton." He stole
+out of the room, glad to escape, however shabbily, from present
+explanation and present pain. There are persons without resource, who,
+in difficulties, return always to the same point, and usually to the
+same words.
+
+While Lord Colambre was walking up and down the room, much vexed
+and disappointed at finding that he could make no impression on his
+father's mind, nor obtain his confidence, Lady Clonbrony's woman, Mrs.
+Petito, knocked at the door, with a message from her lady, to beg, if
+Lord Colambre was _by himself_, he would go to her dressing-room, as
+she wished to have a conference with him. He obeyed her summons.
+
+"Sit down, my dear Colambre--" And she began precisely with her old
+sentence--"With the fortune I brought your father, and with my lord's
+estate, I _cawnt_ understand the meaning of all these pecuniary
+difficulties; and all that strange creature Sir Terence says is
+algebra to me, who speak English. And I am particularly sorry he was
+let in this morning--but he's such a brute that he does not think any
+thing of forcing one's door, and he tells my footman he does not mind
+_not at home_ a pinch of snuff. Now what can you do with a man who
+could say that sort of thing, you know?--the world's at an end."
+
+"I wish my father had nothing to do with him, ma'am, as much as you
+can wish it," said Lord Colambre; "but I have said all that a son can
+say, and without effect."
+
+"What particularly provokes me against him," continued Lady Clonbrony,
+"is what I have just heard from Grace, who was really hurt by it, too,
+for she is the warmest friend in the world: I allude to the creature's
+indelicate way of touching upon a tender _pint_, and mentioning an
+amiable young heiress's name. My dear Colambre, I trust you have given
+me credit for my inviolable silence all this time, upon the _pint_
+nearest my heart. I am rejoiced to hear you _was_ so warm when she
+was mentioned inadvertently by that brute, and I trust you now see
+the advantages of the projected union in as strong and agreeable a
+_pint_ of view as I do, my own Colambre; and I should leave things to
+themselves, and let you prolong the _dees_ of courtship as you please,
+only for what I now hear incidentally from my lord and the brute,
+about pecuniary embarrassments, and the necessity of something being
+done before next winter. And, indeed, I think now, in propriety, the
+proposal cannot be delayed much longer; for the world begins to talk
+of the thing as done; and even Mrs. Broadhurst, I know, had no doubt
+that, if this _contretemps_ about the poor Berryls had not occurred,
+your proposal would have been made before the end of last week."
+
+Our hero was not a man to make a proposal because Mrs. Broadhurst
+expected it, or to marry because the world said he was going to be
+married. He steadily said, that, from the first moment the subject had
+been mentioned, he had explained himself distinctly; that the young
+lady's friends could not, therefore, be under any doubt as to his
+intentions; that, if they had voluntarily deceived themselves, or
+exposed the lady in situations from which the world was led to make
+false conclusions, he was not answerable: he felt his conscience at
+ease--entirely so, as he was convinced that the young lady herself,
+for whose merit, talents, independence, and generosity of character he
+professed high respect, esteem, and admiration, had no doubts either
+of the extent or the nature of his regard.
+
+"Regard, respect, esteem, admiration!--Why, my dearest Colambre! this
+is saying all I want; satisfies me, and I am sure would satisfy Mrs.
+Broadhurst, and Miss Broadhurst too."
+
+"No doubt it will, ma'am: but not if I aspired to the honour of Miss
+Broadhurst's hand, or professed myself her lover."
+
+"My dear, you are mistaken: Miss Broadhurst is too sensible a girl,
+a vast deal, to look for love, and a dying lover, and all that sort
+of stuff: I am persuaded--indeed I have it from good, from the best
+authority, that the young lady--you know one must be delicate in these
+cases, where a young lady of such fortune, and no despicable family
+too, is concerned; therefore I cannot speak quite plainly--but I say
+I have it from the best authority, that you would be preferred to any
+other suitor, and, in short, that--"
+
+"I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you," cried Lord Colambre,
+colouring a good deal; "but you must excuse me if I say, that the only
+authority on which I could believe this is one from which I am morally
+certain I shall never hear it--from Miss Broadhurst herself."
+
+"Lord, child! if you only ask her the question, she would tell you it
+is truth, I dare say."
+
+"But as I have no curiosity on the subject, ma'am--"
+
+"Lord bless me! I thought everybody had curiosity. But still, without
+curiosity, I am sure it would gratify you when you did hear it; and
+can't you just put the simple question?"
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Impossible!--now that is so very provoking when the thing is all but
+done. Well, take your own time; all I will ask of you then is, to let
+things go on as they are going--smoothly and pleasantly; and I'll
+not press you further on the subject at present. Let things go on
+smoothly, that's all I ask, and say nothing."
+
+"I wish I could oblige you, mother; but I cannot do this. Since you
+tell me that the world and Miss Broadhurst's friends have already
+misunderstood my intentions, it becomes necessary, in justice to
+the young lady and to myself, that I should make all further doubt
+impossible--I shall, therefore, put an end to it at once, by leaving
+town to-morrow."
+
+Lady Clonbrony, breathless for a moment with surprise, exclaimed,
+"Bless me! leave town to-morrow! Just at the beginning of the season!
+Impossible!--I never saw such a precipitate rash young man. But stay
+only a few weeks, Colambre; the physicians advise Buxton for my
+rheumatism, and you shall take us to Buxton early in the season--you
+cannot refuse me that. Why, if Miss Broadhurst was a dragon, you could
+not be in a greater hurry to run away from her. What are you afraid
+of?"
+
+"Of doing what is wrong--the only thing, I trust, of which I shall
+ever be afraid."
+
+Lady Clonbrony tried persuasion and argument--such argument as she
+could use--but all in vain--Lord Colambre was firm in his resolution;
+at last, she came to tears; and her son, in much agitation, said, "I
+cannot bear this, mother!--I would do any thing you ask, that I could
+do with honour; but this is impossible."
+
+"Why impossible? I will take all blame upon myself; and you are sure
+that Miss Broadhurst does not misunderstand you, and you esteem her,
+and admire her, and all that; and all I ask; is, that you'll go on as
+you are, and see more of her; and how do you know but you may fall in
+love with her, as you call it, to-morrow?"
+
+"Because, madam, since you press me so far, my affections are engaged
+to another person. Do not look so dreadfully shocked, my dear
+mother--I have told you truly, that I think myself too young, much too
+young, yet to marry. In the circumstances in which I know my family
+are, it is probable that I shall not for some years be able to marry
+as I wish. You may depend upon it that I shall not take any step, I
+shall not even declare my attachment to the object of my affection,
+without your knowledge; and, far from being inclined headlong to
+follow my own passions--strong as they are--be assured that the honour
+of my family, your happiness, my mother, my father's, are my first
+objects: I shall never think of my own till these are secured."
+
+Of the conclusion of this speech, Lady Clonbrony heard only the
+sound of the words; from the moment her son had pronounced that his
+affections were engaged, she had been running over in her head every
+probable and improbable person she could think of; at last, suddenly
+starting up, she opened one of the folding-doors into the next
+apartment, and called, "Grace!--Grace Nugent!--put down your pencil,
+Grace, this minute, and come here!"
+
+Miss Nugent obeyed with her usual alacrity; and the moment she entered
+the room, Lady Clonbrony, fixing her eyes full upon her, said,
+"There's your cousin Colambre tells me his affections are engaged."
+
+"Yes, to Miss Broadhurst, no doubt," said Miss Nugent, smiling, with a
+simplicity and openness of countenance, which assured Lady Clonbrony
+that all was safe in that quarter: a suspicion which had darted into
+her mind was dispelled.
+
+"No doubt--Ay, do you hear that _no doubt_, Colambre?--Grace, you see,
+has no doubt; nobody has any doubt but yourself, Colambre."
+
+"And are your affections engaged, and not to Miss Broadhurst?" said
+Miss Nugent, approaching Lord Colambre.
+
+"There now! you see how you surprise and disappoint every body,
+Colambre."
+
+"I am sorry that Miss Nugent should be disappointed," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"But because I am disappointed, pray do not call me Miss Nugent, or
+turn away from me, as if you were displeased."
+
+"It must, then, be some Cambridgeshire lady," said Lady Clonbrony. "I
+am sure I am very sorry he ever went to Cambridge--Oxford I advised:
+one of the Miss Berryls, I presume, who have nothing. I'll have no
+more to do with those Berryls--there was the reason of the son's vast
+intimacy. Grace, you may give up all thoughts of Sir Arthur."
+
+"I have no thoughts to give up, ma'am," said Miss Nugent, smiling.
+"Miss Broadhurst," continued she, going on eagerly with what she was
+saying to Lord Colambre, "Miss Broadhurst is my friend, a friend I
+love and admire; but you will allow that I strictly kept my promise,
+never to praise her to you, till you should begin to praise her to me.
+Now recollect, last night, you did praise her to me, so justly, that
+I thought you liked her, I confess; so that it is natural I should
+feel a little disappointed. Now you know the whole of my mind; I have
+no intention to encroach on your confidence; therefore, there is no
+occasion to look so embarrassed. I give you my word, I will never
+speak to you again upon the subject," said she, holding out her hand
+to him, "provided you will never again call me Miss Nugent. Am I not
+your own cousin Grace?--Do not be displeased with her."
+
+"You are my own dear cousin Grace; and nothing can be farther from my
+mind than any thought of being displeased with her; especially just at
+this moment, when I am going away, probably, for a considerable time."
+
+"Away!--when?--where?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, for Ireland."
+
+"Ireland! of all places," cried Lady Clonbrony. "What upon earth puts
+it into your head to go to Ireland? You do very well to go out of the
+way of falling in love ridiculously, since that is the reason of your
+going; but what put Ireland into your head, child?"
+
+"I will not presume to ask my mother what put Ireland out of her
+head," said Lord Colambre, smiling; "but she will recollect that it is
+my native country."
+
+"That was your father's fault, not mine," said Lady Clonbrony; "for
+I wished to have been confined in England: but he would have it to
+say that his son and heir was born at Clonbrony Castle--and there was
+a great argument between him and my uncle, and something about the
+Prince of Wales and Caernarvon Castle was thrown in, and that turned
+the scale, much against my will; for it was my wish that my son should
+be an Englishman born--like myself. But, after all, I don't see that
+having the misfortune to be born in a country should tie one to it in
+any sort of way; and I should have hoped your English _edication_,
+Colambre, would have given you too liberal _idears_ for that--so I
+_reely_ don't see why you should go to Ireland merely because it's
+your native country."
+
+"Not merely because it is my native country--but I wish to go
+thither--I desire to become acquainted with it--because it is the
+country in which my father's property lies, and from which we draw our
+subsistence."
+
+"Subsistence! Lord bless me, what a word! fitter for a pauper than
+a nobleman--subsistence! Then, if you are going to look after your
+father's property, I hope you will make the agents do their duty, and
+send us remittances. And pray how long do you mean to stay?"
+
+"Till I am of age, madam, if you have no objection. I will spend the
+ensuing months in travelling in Ireland; and I will return here by the
+time I am of age, unless you and my father should, before that time,
+be in Ireland."
+
+"Not the least chance of that, if I can prevent it, I promise you,"
+said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent sighed.
+
+"And I am sure I shall take it very unkindly of you, Colambre, if you
+go and turn out a partisan for Ireland, after all, like Grace Nugent."
+
+"A partisan! no;--I hope not a partisan, but a friend," said Miss
+Nugent.
+
+"Nonsense, child!--I hate to hear people, women especially, and young
+ladies particularly, talk of being friends to this country or that
+country. What can they know about countries? Better think of being
+friends to themselves, and friends to their friends."
+
+"I was wrong," said Miss Nugent, "to call myself a friend to Ireland;
+I meant to say, that Ireland had been a friend to me: that I found
+Irish friends, when I had no others; an Irish home, when I had no
+other; that my earliest and happiest years, under your kind care, had
+been spent there; and I can never forget _that_, my dear aunt--I hope
+you do not wish that I should."
+
+"Heaven forbid, my sweet Grace!" said Lady Clonbrony, touched by her
+voice and manner; "Heaven forbid! I don't wish you to do or be any
+thing but what you are; for I am convinced there's nothing I could ask
+you would not do for me: and, I can tell you, there's few things you
+could ask, love, I would not do for you."
+
+A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.
+
+Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the wishes
+of others, understood and answered before she ventured to make her
+request in words.
+
+"Ask any thing but _that_, Grace--Return to Clonbrony, while I am able
+to live in London? That I never can or will do for you or any body!"
+looking at her son in all the pride of obstinacy: "so there is an end
+of the matter. Go you where you please, Colambre; and I shall stay
+where I please:--I suppose, as your mother, I have a right to say this
+much?"
+
+Her son, with the utmost respect, assured her that he had no design to
+infringe upon her undoubted liberty of judging for herself; that he
+had never interfered, except so far as to tell her circumstances of
+her affairs with which she seemed to be totally unacquainted, and of
+which it might he dangerous to her to continue in ignorance.
+
+"Don't talk to me about affairs," cried she, drawing her hand away
+from her son. "Talk to my lord, or my lord's agents, since you are
+going to Ireland about business--I know nothing about business; but
+this I know, I shall stay in England, and be in London, every season,
+as long as I can afford it; and when I cannot afford to live here, I
+hope I shall not live any where. That's my notion of life; and that's
+my determination, once for all; for, if none of the rest of the
+Clonbrony family have any, I thank Heaven I have some spirit." Saying
+this, in her most stately manner she walked out of the room. Lord
+Colambre instantly followed her: for after the resolution and the
+promise he had made, he did not dare to trust himself at this moment
+with Miss Nugent.
+
+There was to be a concert this night at Lady Clonbrony's, at which
+Mrs. and Miss Broadhurst were of course expected. That they might not
+he quite unprepared for the event of her son's going to Ireland, Lady
+Clonbrony wrote a note to Mrs. Broadhurst, begging her to come half
+an hour earlier than the time mentioned in the cards, "that she might
+talk over something _particular_ that had just occurred."
+
+What passed at this cabinet council, as it seems to have had no
+immediate influence on affairs, we need not record. Suffice it
+to observe, that a great deal was said, and nothing done. Miss
+Broadhurst, however, was not a young lady who could easily be
+deceived, even where her passions were concerned. The moment her
+mother told her of Lord Colambre's intended departure, she saw the
+whole truth. She had a strong mind, capable of looking steadily at
+truth. Surrounded as she had been from her childhood by every means
+of self-indulgence which wealth and flattery could bestow, she had
+discovered early what few persons in her situation discover till late
+in life, that selfish gratifications may render us incapable of other
+happiness, but can never, of themselves, make us happy. Despising
+flatterers, she had determined to make herself friends--to make them
+in the only possible way--by deserving them. Her father realized
+his immense fortune by the power and habit of constant, bold, and
+just calculation. The power and habit which she had learned from
+him she applied on a far larger scale: with him it was confined to
+speculations for the acquisition of money; with her, it extended to
+the attainment of happiness. He was calculating and mercenary: she was
+estimative and generous.
+
+Miss Nugent was dressing for the concert, or rather was sitting
+half-dressed before her glass, reflecting, when Miss Broadhurst came
+into her room. Miss Nugent immediately sent her maid out of the room.
+
+"Grace," said Miss Broadhurst, looking at Grace with an air of open
+deliberate composure, "you and I are thinking of the same thing--of
+the same person."
+
+"Yes, of Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent, ingenuously and
+sorrowfully.
+
+"Then I can put your mind at ease, at once, my dear friend, by
+assuring you that I shall think of him no more. That I have thought
+of him, I do not deny--I have thought, that if, notwithstanding the
+difference in our ages and other differences, he had preferred me, I
+should have preferred him to any person who has ever yet addressed
+me. On our first acquaintance, I clearly saw that he was not disposed
+to pay court to my fortune; and I had also then coolness of judgment
+sufficient to perceive that it was not probable he should fall in
+love with my person. But I was too proud in my humility, too strong
+in my honesty, too brave, too ignorant; in short, I knew nothing of
+the matter. We are all of us, more or less, subject to the delusions
+of vanity, or hope, or love--I--even I!--who thought myself so
+clear-sighted, did not know how, with one flutter of his wings, Cupid
+can set the whole atmosphere in motion; change the proportions, size,
+colour, value, of every object; lead us into a _mirage_, and leave us
+in a dismal desert."
+
+"My dearest friend!" said Miss Nugent in a tone of true sympathy.
+
+"But none but a coward or a fool would sit down in the desert and
+weep, instead of trying to make his way back before the storm rises,
+obliterates the track, and overwhelms every thing. Poetry apart, my
+dear Grace, you may be assured that I shall think no more of Lord
+Colambre."
+
+"I believe you are right. But I am sorry, very sorry, it must be so."
+
+"Oh, spare me your sorrow!"
+
+"My sorrow is for Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent. "Where will he
+find such a wife?--Not in Miss Berryl, I am sure, pretty as she is; a
+mere fine lady!--Is it possible that Lord Colambre should prefer such
+a girl--Lord Colambre!"
+
+Miss Broadhurst looked at her friend as she spoke, and saw truth in
+her eyes; saw that she had no suspicion that she was herself the
+person beloved.
+
+"Tell me, Grace, are you sorry that Lord Colambre is going away?"
+
+"No, I am glad. I was sorry when I first heard it; but now I am glad,
+very glad: it may save him from a marriage unworthy of him, restore
+him to himself, and reserve him for--, the only woman I ever saw who
+is suited to him, who is equal to him, who would value and love him as
+he deserves to be valued and loved."
+
+"Stop, my dear; if you mean me, I am not, and I never can be, that
+woman. Therefore, as you are my friend, and wish my happiness, as I
+sincerely believe you do, never, I conjure you, present such an idea
+before my mind again--it is out of my mind, I hope, for ever. It is
+important to me that you should know and believe this. At least I
+will preserve my friends. Now let this subject never be mentioned
+or alluded to again between us, my dear. We have subjects enough of
+conversation; we need not have recourse to pernicious sentimental
+gossipings. There is great difference between wanting _a confidante_,
+and treating a friend with confidence. My confidence you possess; all
+that ought, all that is to be known of my mind, you know, and--Now I
+will leave you in peace to dress for the concert."
+
+"Oh, don't go! you don't interrupt me. I shall be dressed in a few
+minutes; stay with me, and you may be assured, that neither now,
+nor at any other time, shall I ever speak to you on the subject you
+desire me to avoid. I entirely agree with you about _confidantes_ and
+sentimental gossipings: I love you for not loving them."
+
+A loud knock at the door announced the arrival of company.
+
+"Think no more of love, but as much as you please of admiration--dress
+yourself as fast as you can," said Miss Broadhurst. "Dress, dress, is
+the order of the day."
+
+"Order of the day and order of the night, and all for people I don't
+care for in the least," said Grace. "So life passes!"
+
+"Dear me, Miss Nugent," cried Petito, Lady Clonbrony's woman, coming
+in with a face of alarm, "not dressed yet! My lady is gone down, and
+Mrs. Broadhurst and my Lady Pococke's come, and the Honourable Mrs.
+Trembleham; and signor, the Italian singing gentleman, has been
+walking up and down the apartments there by himself, disconsolate,
+this half hour. Oh, merciful! Miss Nugent, if you could stand still
+for one single particle of a second. So then I thought of stepping in
+to Miss Nugent; for the young ladies are talking so fast, says I to
+myself, at the door, they will never know how time goes, unless I give
+'em a hint. But now my lady is below, there's no need, to be sure,
+to be nervous, so we may take the thing quietly, without being in a
+flustrum. Dear ladies, is not this now a very sudden motion of our
+young lord's for Ireland? Lud a mercy! Miss Nugent, I'm sure your
+motions is sudden enough; and your dress behind is all, I'm sure, I
+can't tell how."
+
+"Oh, never mind," said the young lady, escaping from her; "it will do
+very well, thank you, Petito."
+
+"It will do very well, never mind," repeated Petito, muttering
+to herself, as she looked after the ladies, whilst they ran down
+stairs. "I can't abide to dress any young lady who says never
+mind, and it will do very well. That, and her never talking to one
+confi_dan_tially, or trusting one with the least bit of her secrets,
+is the thing I can't put up with from Miss Nugent; and Miss Broadhurst
+holding the pins to me, as much as to say, do your business, Petito,
+and don't talk.--Now, that's so impertinent, as if one wasn't the same
+flesh and blood, and had not as good a right to talk of every thing,
+and hear of every thing, as themselves. And Mrs. Broadhurst, too,
+cabinet-councilling with my lady, and pursing up her city mouth, when
+I come in, and turning off the discourse to snuff, forsooth; as if I
+was an ignoramus, to think they closeted themselves to talk of snuff.
+Now, I think a lady of quality's woman has as good a right to be
+trusted with her lady's secrets as with her jewels; and if my Lady
+Clonbrony was a real lady of quality, she'd know that, and consider
+the one as much my paraphernalia as the other. So I shall tell my lady
+to-night, as I always do when she vexes me, that I never lived in an
+Irish family before, and don't know the ways of it--then she'll tell
+me she was born in Hoxfordshire--then I shall say, with my saucy look,
+'Oh, was you, my lady--I always forget that you was an Englishwoman:'
+then may be she'll say, 'Forget! you forget yourself strangely,
+Petito.' Then I shall say, with a great deal of dignity, 'If your
+ladyship thinks so, my lady, I'd better go.' And I'd desire no better
+than that she would take me at my word; for my Lady Dashfort's is a
+much better place, I'm told, and she's dying to have me, I know."
+
+And having formed this resolution, Petito concluded her apparently
+interminable soliloquy, and went with my lord's gentleman into the
+antechamber, to hear the concert, and give her judgment on every
+thing: as she peeped in through the vista of heads into the Apollo
+saloon--for to-night the Alhambra was transformed into the Apollo
+saloon--she saw that whilst the company, rank behind rank, in close
+semicircles, had crowded round the performers to hear a favourite
+singer, Miss Broadhurst and Lord Colambre were standing in the outer
+semicircle, talking to one another earnestly. Now would Petito have
+given up her reversionary chance of the three nearly new gowns she
+expected from Lady Clonbrony, in case she stayed; or, in case she
+went, the reversionary chance of any dress of Lady Dashfort's, except
+her scarlet velvet, merely to hear what Miss Broadhurst and Lord
+Colambre were saying. Alas! she could only see their lips move; and
+of what they were talking, whether of music or love, and whether
+the match was to be on or off, she could only conjecture. But the
+diplomatic style having now descended to waiting-maids, Mrs. Petito
+talked to her friends in the antechamber with as mysterious and
+consequential an air and tone as a chargé d'affaires, or as the
+lady of a chargé d'affaires, could have assumed. She spoke of her
+_private belief_; of _the impression left upon her mind_; and her
+_confidential_ reasons for thinking as she did; of her "having had it
+from the _fountain's_ head;" and of "her fear of any _committal_ of
+her authorities."
+
+Notwithstanding all these authorities, Lord Colambre left London next
+day, and pursued his way to Ireland, determined that he would see and
+judge of that country for himself, and decide whether his mother's
+dislike to residing there was founded on caprice or on reasonable
+causes.
+
+In the mean time, it was reported in London that his lordship was
+gone to Ireland to make out the title to some estate, which would be
+necessary for his marriage settlement with the great heiress, Miss
+Broadhurst. Whether Mrs. Petito or Sir Terence O'Fay had the greater
+share in raising and spreading this report, it would be difficult to
+determine; but it is certain, however or by whomsoever raised, it was
+most useful to Lord Clonbrony, by keeping his creditors quiet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+The tide did not permit the packet to reach the Pigeon-house, and the
+impatient Lord Colambre stepped into a boat, and was rowed across the
+Bay of Dublin. It was a fine summer morning. The sun shone bright on
+the Wicklow mountains. He admired, he exulted in the beauty of the
+prospect; and all the early associations of his childhood, and the
+patriotic hopes of his riper years, swelled his heart as he approached
+the shores of his native land. But scarcely had he touched his mother
+earth, when the whole course of his ideas was changed; and if his
+heart swelled, it swelled no more with pleasurable sensations, for
+instantly he found himself surrounded and attacked by a swarm of
+beggars and harpies, with strange figures and stranger tones; some
+craving his charity, some snatching away his luggage, and at the same
+time bidding him "never trouble himself," and "never fear." A scramble
+in the boat and on shore for bags and parcels began, and an amphibious
+fight betwixt men, who had one foot on sea and one on land, was seen;
+and long and loud the battle of trunks and portmanteaus raged! The
+vanquished departed, clinching their empty hands at their opponents,
+and swearing inextinguishable hatred; while the smiling victors stood
+at ease, each grasping his booty--bag, basket, parcel, or portmanteau:
+"And, your honour, where _will_ these go?--Where _will_ we carry 'em
+all to for your honour?" was now the question. Without waiting for
+an answer, most of the goods were carried at the discretion of the
+porters to the custom-house, where, to his lordship's astonishment,
+after this scene of confusion, he found that he had lost nothing but
+his patience; all his goods were safe, and a few _tinpennies_ made
+his officious porters happy men and boys; blessings were showered
+upon his honour, and he was left in peace at an excellent hotel, in
+---- street, Dublin. He rested, refreshed himself, recovered his
+good-humour, and walked into the coffee-house, where he found several
+officers, English, Irish, and Scotch. One English officer, a very
+gentlemanlike, sensible-looking man, of middle age, was sitting
+reading a little pamphlet, when Lord Colambre entered: he looked
+up from time to time, and in a few minutes rose and joined the
+conversation; it turned upon the beauties and defects of the city of
+Dublin. Sir James Brooke (for that was the name of the gentleman)
+showed one of his brother officers the book which he had been reading,
+observing that, in his opinion, it contained one of the best views
+of Dublin which he had ever seen, evidently drawn by the hand of a
+master, though in a slight, playful, and ironical style: it was "An
+intercepted Letter from China." The conversation extended from Dublin
+to various parts of Ireland, with all which Sir James Brooke showed
+that he was well acquainted. Observing that this conversation was
+particularly interesting to Lord Colambre, and quickly perceiving
+that he was speaking to one not ignorant of books, Sir James spoke of
+different representations and misrepresentations of Ireland. In answer
+to Lord Colambre's inquiries, he named the works which had afforded
+him the most satisfaction; and with discriminative, not superficial
+celerity, touched on all ancient and modern authors on this subject,
+from Spenser and Davies to Young and Beaufort. Lord Colambre became
+anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a gentleman who appeared
+so able and willing to afford him information. Sir James Brooke, on
+his part, was flattered by this eagerness of attention, and pleased
+by our hero's manners and conversation: so that, to their mutual
+satisfaction, they spent much of their time together whilst they were
+at this hotel; and meeting frequently in society in Dublin, their
+acquaintance every day increased and grew into intimacy; an intimacy
+which was highly advantageous to Lord Colambre's views of obtaining a
+just idea of the state of manners in Ireland. Sir James Brooke had at
+different periods been quartered in various parts of the country--had
+resided long enough in each to become familiar with the people, and
+had varied his residence sufficiently to form comparisons between
+different counties, their habits, and characteristics. Hence he had it
+in his power to direct the attention of our young observer at once to
+the points most worthy of his examination, and to save him from the
+common error of travellers--the deducing general conclusions from a
+few particular cases, or arguing from exceptions, as if they were
+rules. Lord Colambre, from his family connexions, had of course
+immediate introduction into the best society in Dublin, or rather into
+all the good society of Dublin. In Dublin there is positively good
+company, and positively bad; but not, as in London, many degrees of
+comparison: not innumerable luminaries of the polite world, moving in
+different orbits of fashion; but all the bright planets of note and
+name move and revolve in the same narrow limits. Lord Colambre did
+not find that either his father's or his mother's representations of
+society resembled the reality which he now beheld. Lady Clonbrony had,
+in terms of detestation, described Dublin such as it appeared to her
+soon after the Union; Lord Clonbrony had painted it with convivial
+enthusiasm, such as he saw it long and long before the Union, when
+_first_ he drank claret at the fashionable clubs. This picture,
+unchanged in his memory, and unchangeable by his imagination, had
+remained, and ever would remain, the same. The hospitality of which
+the father boasted, the son found in all its warmth, but meliorated
+and refined; less convivial, more social; the fashion of hospitality
+had improved. To make the stranger eat or drink to excess, to set
+before him old wine and old plate, was no longer the sum of good
+breeding. The guest now escaped the pomp of grand entertainments;
+was allowed to enjoy ease and conversation, and to taste some of
+that feast of reason and that flow of soul so often talked of, and
+so seldom enjoyed. Lord Colambre found a spirit of improvement, a
+desire for knowledge, and a taste for science and literature, in most
+companies, particularly among gentlemen belonging to the Irish bar:
+nor did he in Dublin society see any of that confusion of ranks or
+predominance of vulgarity, of which his mother had complained. Lady
+Clonbrony had assured him, that, the last time she had been at the
+drawing-room at the Castle, a lady, whom she afterwards found to be a
+grocer's wife, had turned angrily when her ladyship had accidentally
+trodden on her train, and had exclaimed with a strong brogue, "I'll
+thank you, ma'am, for the rest of my tail."
+
+Sir James Brooke, to whom Lord Colambre, without _giving up his
+authority_, mentioned the fact, declared that he had no doubt the
+thing had happened precisely as it was stated; but that this was one
+of the extraordinary cases which ought not to pass into a general
+rule,--that it was a slight instance of that influence of temporary
+causes, from which no conclusions, as to national manners, should be
+drawn.
+
+"I happened," continued Sir James, "to be quartered in Dublin soon
+after the Union took place; and I remember the great but transient
+change that appeared from the removal of both houses of parliament:
+most of the nobility and many of the principal families among the
+Irish commoners, either hurried in high hopes to London, or retired
+disgusted and in despair to their houses in the country. Immediately,
+in Dublin, commerce rose into the vacated seats of rank; wealth rose
+into the place of birth. New faces and new equipages appeared: people,
+who had never been heard of before, started into notice, pushed
+themselves forward, not scrupling to elbow their way even at the
+castle; and they were presented to my lord-lieutenant and to my
+lady-lieutenant; for their excellencies might have played their
+vice-regal parts to empty benches, had they not admitted such
+persons for the moment to fill their court. Those of former times,
+of hereditary pretensions and high-bred minds and manners, were
+scandalized at all this; and they complained with justice, that the
+whole _tone_ of society was altered; that the decorum, elegance,
+polish, and charm of society was gone. And I, among the rest," said
+Sir James, "felt and deplored their change. But, now it's all over, we
+may acknowledge, that, perhaps, even those things which we felt most
+disagreeable at the time were productive of eventual benefit.
+
+"Formerly, a few families had set the fashion. From time immemorial
+every thing had, in Dublin, been submitted to their hereditary
+authority; and conversation, though it had been rendered polite by
+their example, was, at the same time, limited within narrow bounds.
+Young people, educated upon a more enlarged plan, in time grew up;
+and, no authority or fashion forbidding it, necessarily rose to their
+just place, and enjoyed their due influence in society. The want of
+manners, joined to the want of knowledge, in the _nouveaux riches_,
+created universal disgust: they were compelled, some by ridicule, some
+by bankruptcies, to fall back into their former places, from which
+they could never more emerge. In the mean time, some of the Irish
+nobility and gentry, who had been living at an unusual expense in
+London--an expense beyond their incomes--were glad to return home to
+refit; and they brought with them a new stock of ideas, and some taste
+for science and literature, which, within these latter years, have
+become fashionable, indeed indispensable, in London. That part of the
+Irish aristocracy, who, immediately upon the first incursions of the
+vulgarians, had fled in despair to their fastnesses in the country,
+hearing of the improvements which had gradually taken place in
+society, and assured of the final expulsion of the barbarians,
+ventured from their retreats, and returned to their posts in town. So
+that now," concluded Sir James, "you find a society in Dublin composed
+of a most agreeable and salutary mixture of birth and education,
+gentility and knowledge, manner and matter; and you see, pervading the
+whole, new life and energy, new talent, new ambition, a desire and a
+determination to improve and be improved--a perception that higher
+distinction can now be obtained in almost all company, by genius and
+merit, than by airs and address.... So much for the higher order. Now,
+among the class of tradesmen and shopkeepers, you may amuse yourself,
+my lord, with marking the difference between them and persons of the
+same rank in London."
+
+Lord Colambre had several commissions to execute for his English
+friends, and he made it his amusement in every shop to observe the
+manners and habits of the people. He remarked that there are in Dublin
+two classes of tradespeople: one, who go into business with intent to
+make it their occupation for life, and as a slow but sure means of
+providing for themselves and their families; another class, who take
+up trade merely as a temporary resource, to which they condescend for
+a few years; trusting that they shall, in that time, make a fortune,
+retire, and commence or re-commence gentlemen. The Irish regular men
+of business are like all other men of business--punctual, frugal,
+careful, and so forth; with the addition of more intelligence,
+invention, and enterprise, than are usually found in Englishmen of
+the same rank. But the Dublin tradesmen _pro tempore_ are a class by
+themselves: they begin without capital, buy stock upon credit, in
+hopes of making large profits, and, in the same hopes, sell upon
+credit.
+
+Now, if the credit they can obtain is longer than that which they are
+forced to give, they go on and prosper; if not, they break, become
+bankrupts, and sometimes, as bankrupts, thrive. By such men, of
+course, every _short cut_ to fortune is followed: whilst every habit,
+which requires time to prove its advantage, is disregarded; nor, with
+such views, can a character for _punctuality_ have its just value.
+In the head of a man, who intends to be a tradesman to-day, and a
+gentleman to-morrow, the ideas of the honesty and the duties of a
+tradesman, and of the honour and the accomplishments of a gentleman,
+are oddly jumbled together, and the characteristics of both are lost
+in the compound.
+
+He will _oblige_ you, but he will not obey you; he will do you a
+favour, but he will not do you _justice_; he will do _anything to
+serve you_, but the particular thing you order he neglects; he asks
+your pardon, for he would not, for all the goods in his warehouse,
+_disoblige_ you; not for the sake of your custom, but he has a
+particular regard for your family. Economy, in the eyes of such a
+tradesman, is, if not a mean vice, at least a shabby virtue, of which
+he is too polite to suspect his customers, and to which he is proud of
+proving himself superior. Many London tradesmen, after making their
+thousands and their tens of thousands, feel pride in still continuing
+to live like plain men of business; but from the moment a Dublin
+tradesman of this style has made a few hundreds, he sets up his
+gig, and then his head is in his carriage, and not in his business;
+and when he has made a few thousands, he buys or builds a country
+house--and, then, and thenceforward, his head, heart, and soul, are in
+his country-house, and only his body in the shop with his customers.
+
+Whilst he is making money, his wife, or rather his lady, is
+spending twice as much out of town as he makes in it. At the word
+country-house, let no one figure to himself a snug little box like
+that in which a _warm_ London citizen, after long years of toil,
+indulges himself, one day out of seven, in repose--enjoying, from his
+gazabo, the smell of the dust, and the view of passing coaches on the
+London road: no, these Hibernian villas are on a much more magnificent
+scale; some of them formerly belonged to Irish members of parliament,
+who were at a distance from their country-seats. After the Union these
+were bought by citizens and tradesmen, who spoiled, by the mixture of
+their own fancies, what had originally been designed by men of good
+taste.
+
+Some time after Lord Colambre's arrival in Dublin, he had an
+opportunity of seeing one of these villas, which belonged to Mrs.
+Raffarty, a grocer's lady, and sister to one of Lord Clonbrony's
+agents, Mr. Nicholas Garraghty. Lord Colambre was surprised to find
+that his father's agent resided in Dublin: he had been used to see
+agents, or stewards, as they are called in England, live in the
+country, and usually on the estate of which they have the management.
+Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, however, had a handsome house in a fashionable
+part of Dublin. Lord Colambre called several times to see him, but he
+was out of town, receiving rents for some other gentlemen, as he was
+agent for more than one property.
+
+Though our hero had not the honour of seeing Mr. Garraghty, he had the
+pleasure of finding Mrs. Raffarty one day at her brother's house. Just
+as his lordship came to the door, she was going, on her jaunting-car,
+to her villa, called Tusculum, situate near Bray. She spoke much of
+the beauties of the vicinity of Dublin; found his lordship was going
+with Sir James Brooke, and a party of gentlemen, to see the county
+of Wicklow; and his lordship and party were entreated to do her the
+honour of taking in their way a little collation at Tusculum.
+
+Our hero was glad to have an opportunity of seeing more of a species
+of fine lady with which he was unacquainted.
+
+The invitation was verbally made, and verbally accepted; but the lady
+afterwards thought it necessary to send a written invitation in due
+form, and the note she sent directed to the _Most Right Honourable_
+the Lord Viscount Colambre. On opening it he perceived that it could
+not have been intended for him. It ran as follows:
+
+    "MY DEAR JULIANA O'LEARY,
+
+    "I have got a promise from Colambre, that he will be with us
+    at Tusculum on Friday, the 20th, in his way from the county of
+    Wicklow, for the collation I mentioned; and expect a large party
+    of officers: so pray come early, with your house, or as many as
+    the jaunting-car can bring. And pray, my dear, be _elegant_. You
+    need not let it transpire to Mrs. O'G----; but make my apologies
+    to Miss O'G----, if she says any thing, and tell her I'm quite
+    concerned I can't ask her for that day; because, tell her, I'm so
+    crowded, and am to have none that day but _real quality_.
+
+    "Yours ever and ever,
+
+    "ANASTASIA RAFFARTY.
+
+    "P.S. And I hope to make the gentlemen stop the night with me: so
+    will not have beds. Excuse haste and compliments, &c.
+
+    "_Tusculum, Sunday 15._"
+
+After a charming tour in the county of Wicklow, where the beauty of
+the natural scenery, and the taste with which those natural beauties
+had been cultivated, far surpassed the sanguine expectations Lord
+Colambre had formed, his lordship and his companions arrived at
+Tusculum, where he found Mrs. Raffarty, and Miss Juliana O'Leary,
+very elegant, with a large party of the ladies and gentlemen of Bray,
+assembled in a drawing-room, fine with bad pictures and gaudy gilding;
+the windows were all shut, and the company were playing cards with all
+their might. This was the fashion of the neighbourhood. In compliment
+to Lord Colambre and the officers, the ladies left the card-tables;
+and Mrs. Raffarty, observing that his lordship seemed _partial_ to
+walking, took him out, as she said, "to do the honours of nature and
+art."
+
+His lordship was much amused by the mixture, which was now exhibited
+to him, of taste and incongruity, ingenuity and absurdity, genius
+and blunder; by the contrast between the finery and vulgarity, the
+affectation and ignorance, of the lady of the villa. We should be
+obliged to _stop_ too long at Tusculum were we to attempt to detail
+all the odd circumstances of this visit; but we may record an example
+or two, which may give a sufficient idea of the whole.
+
+In the first place, before they left the drawing-room, Miss Juliana
+O'Leary pointed out to his lordship's attention a picture over the
+drawing-room chimney-piece. "Is not it a fine piece, my lord?" said
+she, naming the price Mrs. Raffarty had lately paid for it at an
+auction. "It has a right to be a fine piece, indeed; for it cost a
+fine price!" Nevertheless this _fine_ piece was a vile daub; and our
+hero could only avoid the sin of flattery, or the danger of offending
+the lady, by protesting that he had no judgment in pictures.
+
+"Indeed! I don't pretend to be a connoisseur or conoscenti myself; but
+I'm told the style is undeniably modern. And was not I lucky, Juliana,
+not to let that _Medona_ be knocked down to me? I was just going to
+bid, when I heard such smart bidding; but, fortunately, the auctioneer
+let out that it was done by a very old master--a hundred years old.
+Oh! your most obedient, thinks I!--if that's the case, it's not for my
+money: so I bought this, in lieu of the smoke-dried thing, and had it
+a bargain."
+
+In architecture, Mrs. Raffarty had as good a taste and as much skill
+as in painting. There had been a handsome portico in front of the
+house: but this interfering with the lady's desire to have a viranda,
+which she said could not he dispensed with, she had raised the whole
+portico to the second story, where it stood, or seemed to stand, upon
+a tarpaulin roof. But Mrs. Raffarty explained, that the pillars,
+though they looked so properly substantial, were really hollow
+and as light as feathers, and were supported with cramps, without
+_disobliging_ the front wall of the house at all to signify.
+
+Before she showed the company any farther, she said, she must premise
+to his lordship, that she had been originally stinted in room for
+her improvements, so that she could not follow her genius liberally;
+she had been reduced to have some things on a confined scale, and
+occasionally to consult her pocket-compass; but she prided herself
+upon having put as much into a tight pattern as could well be;
+that had been her whole ambition, study, and problem; for she was
+determined to have at least the honour of having a little _taste_ of
+every thing at Tusculum.
+
+So she led the way to a little conservatory, and a little pinery, and
+a little grapery, and a little aviary, and a little pheasantry, and a
+little dairy for show, and a little cottage for ditto, with a grotto
+full of shells, and a little hermitage full of earwigs, and a little
+ruin full of looking-glass, "to enlarge and multiply the effect of the
+Gothic."--"But you could only put your head in, because it was just
+fresh painted, and though there had been a fire ordered in the ruin
+all night, it had only smoked."
+
+In all Mrs. Raffarty's buildings, whether ancient or modern, there was
+a studied crookedness.
+
+Yes, she said, she hated every thing straight, it was so formal and
+_unpicturesque_. "Uniformity and conformity," she observed, "had their
+day; but now, thank the stars of the present day, irregularity and
+deformity bear the bell, and have the majority."
+
+As they proceeded and walked through the grounds, from which Mrs.
+Raffarty, though she had done her best, could not take that which
+nature had given, she pointed out to my lord "a happy moving
+termination," consisting of a Chinese bridge, with a fisherman leaning
+over the rails. On a sudden, the fisherman was seen to tumble over the
+bridge into the water. The gentlemen ran to extricate the poor fellow,
+while they heard Mrs. Raffarty bawling to his lordship to beg he would
+never mind, and not trouble himself.
+
+When they arrived at the bridge, they saw the man hanging from part
+of the bridge, and apparently struggling in the water; but when they
+attempted to pull him up, they found it was only a stuffed figure,
+which had been pulled into the stream by a real fish, which had seized
+hold of the bait.
+
+Mrs. Raffarty, vexed by the fisherman's fall, and by the laughter
+it occasioned, did not recover herself sufficiently to be happily
+ridiculous during the remainder of the walk, nor till dinner was
+announced, when she apologized for having changed the collation, at
+first intended, into a dinner, which she hoped would be found no bad
+substitute, and which she flattered herself might prevail on my lord
+and the gentlemen to sleep, as there was no moon.
+
+The dinner had two great faults--profusion and pretension. There was,
+in fact, ten times more on the table than was necessary; and the
+entertainment was far above the circumstances of the person by whom it
+was given: for instance, the dish of fish at the head of the table had
+been brought across the island from Sligo, and had cost five guineas;
+as the lady of the house failed not to make known. But, after all,
+things were not of a piece; there was a disparity between the
+entertainment and the attendants; there was no proportion or fitness
+of things; a painful endeavour at what could not be attained, and a
+toiling in vain to conceal and repair deficiencies and blunders. Had
+the mistress of the house been quiet; had she, as Mrs. Broadhurst
+would say, but let things alone, let things take their course, all
+would have passed off with well-bred people; but she was incessantly
+apologizing, and fussing, and fretting inwardly and outwardly, and
+directing and calling to her servants--striving to make a butler who
+was deaf, and a boy who was harebrained, do the business of five
+accomplished footmen of _parts and figure_. The mistress of the house
+called for "plates, clean plates!--plates!"
+
+  "But none did come, when she did call."
+
+Mrs. Raffarty called "Lanty! Lanty! My lord's plate, there!--James!
+bread to Captain Bowles!--James! port wine to the major!--James! James
+Kenny! James!"
+
+  "And panting _James_ toiled after her in vain."
+
+At length one course was fairly got through, and after a torturing
+half hour, the second course appeared, and James Kenny was intent upon
+one thing, and Lanty upon another, so that the wine-sauce for the hare
+was spilt by their collision; but, what was worse, there seemed little
+chance that the whole of this second course should ever be placed
+altogether rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her throat,
+and nodded, and pointed, and sighed, and sent Lanty after Kenny, and
+Kenny after Lanty; for what one did, the other undid; and at last the
+lady's anger kindled, and she spoke: "Kenny! James Kenny! set the
+sea-cale at this corner, and put down the grass cross-corners; and
+match your maccaroni yonder with _them_ puddens, set--Ogh! James! the
+pyramid in the middle, can't ye?"
+
+The pyramid, in changing places, was overturned. Then it was that the
+mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat, and lifting up her
+hands and eyes in despair, ejaculated, "Oh, James! James!"
+
+The pyramid was raised by the assistance of the military engineers,
+and stood trembling again on its base; but the lady's temper could not
+be so easily restored to its equilibrium. She vented her ill humour on
+her unfortunate husband, who happening not to hear her order to help
+my lord to some hare, she exclaimed loud, that all the world might
+hear, "Corny Raffarty! Corny Raffarty! you're no more _gud_ at the
+_fut_ of my table than a stick of celery!"
+
+The comedy of errors, which this day's visit exhibited, amused all
+the spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he had smiled, sometimes
+sighed.--Similar foibles and follies in persons of different rank,
+fortune, and manner, appear to common observers so unlike that they
+laugh without scruples of conscience in one case, at what in another
+ought to touch themselves most nearly. It was the same desire to
+appear what they were not, the same vain ambition to vie with superior
+rank and fortune, or fashion, which actuated Lady Clonbrony and Mrs.
+Raffarty; and whilst this ridiculous grocer's wife made herself the
+sport of some of her guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from the reflection
+that what she was to them, his mother was to persons in a higher rank
+of fashion.--He sighed still more deeply, when he considered, that,
+in whatever station or with whatever fortune, extravagance, that is,
+the living beyond our income, must lead to distress and meanness, and
+end in shame and ruin. In the morning as they were riding away from
+Tusculum and talking over their visit, the officers laughed heartily,
+and rallying Lord Colambre upon his seriousness, accused him of having
+fallen in love with Mrs. Raffarty, or with the _elegant_ Miss Juliana.
+Our hero, who wished never to be nice over much, or serious out of
+season, laughed with those that laughed, and endeavoured to catch the
+spirit of the jest. But Sir James Brooke, who now was well acquainted
+with his countenance, and who knew something of the history of his
+family, understood his real feelings, and, sympathizing in them,
+endeavoured to give the conversation a new turn.
+
+"Look there, Bowles," said he, as they were just riding into the town
+of Bray; "look at the barouche standing at that green door, at the
+farthest end of the town. Is not that Lady Dashfort's barouche?"
+
+"It looks like what she sported in Dublin last year," said Bowles;
+"but you don't think she'd give us the same two seasons. Besides, she
+is not in Ireland, is she? I did not hear of her intending to come
+over again."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said another officer; "she will come again to
+so good a market, to marry her other daughter. I hear she said or
+swore that she will marry the young widow, Lady Isabel, to an Irish
+nobleman."
+
+"Whatever she says, she swears, and whatever she swears, she'll do,"
+replied Bowles.
+
+"Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart upon you for
+Lady Isabel, she has you. Nothing can save you. Heart she has none,
+so there you're safe, my lord," said the other officer; "but if Lady
+Isabel sets her eye upon you, no basilisk's is surer."
+
+"But if Lady Dashfort had landed I am sure we should have heard of it,
+for she makes noise enough wherever she goes; especially in Dublin,
+where all she said and did was echoed and magnified, till one could
+hear of nothing else. I don't think she has landed."
+
+"I hope to Heaven they may never land again in Ireland!" cried
+Sir James Brooke: "one worthless woman, especially one worthless
+Englishwoman of rank, does incalculable mischief in a country like
+this, which looks up to the sister country for fashion. For my own
+part, as a warm friend to Ireland, I would rather see all the toads
+and serpents, and venomous reptiles, that St. Patrick carried off in
+his bag, come back to this island, than these two _dashers_. Why, they
+would bite half the women and girls in the kingdom with the rage for
+mischief, before half the husbands and fathers could turn their heads
+about. And, once bit, there's no cure in nature or art."
+
+"No horses to this barouche!" cried Captain Bowles.--"Pray, sir, whose
+carriage is this?" said the captain to a servant, who was standing
+beside it.
+
+"My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to," answered the servant, in
+rather a surly English tone; and turning to a boy who was lounging at
+the door, "Pat, bid them bring out the horses, for my ladies is in a
+hurry to get home."
+
+Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the girths of his
+horse, and to satisfy his curiosity; and the whole party halted.
+Captain Bowles beckoned to the landlord of the inn, who was standing
+at his door.
+
+"So, Lady Dashfort is here again?--This is her barouche, is not it?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she is--it is."
+
+"And has she sold her fine horses?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir--this is not her carriage at all--she is not here. That
+is, she is here, in Ireland; but down in the county of Wicklow, on
+a visit. And this is not her own carriage at all;--that is to say,
+not that which she has with herself, driving; but only just the cast
+barouche like, as she keeps for the lady's maids."
+
+"For the lady's maids! that is good! that is new, faith! Sir James, do
+you hear that?"
+
+"Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!" said the
+honest landlord. "And this minute, we've got a directory of five of
+them Abigails, sitting within our house; as fine ladies, as great
+dashers too, every bit, as their principals; and kicking up as much
+dust on the road, every grain!--Think of them, now! The likes of
+them, that must have four horses, and would not stir a foot with one
+less!--As the gentleman's gentleman there was telling and boasting
+to me about now, when the barouche was ordered for them there at the
+lady's house, where Lady Dashfort is on a visit--they said they would
+not get in till they'd get four horses; and their ladies backed them;
+and so the four horses was got; and they just drove out here to see
+the points of view for fashion's sake, like their betters; and up with
+their glasses, like their ladies; and then out with their watches, and
+'Isn't it time to lunch?' So there they have been lunching within on
+what they brought with them; for nothing in our house could they touch
+of course! They brought themselves a _pick-nick_ lunch, with Madeira
+and Champagne to wash it down. Why, gentlemen, what do you think,
+but a set of them, as they were bragging to me, turned out of a
+boarding-house at Cheltenham, last year, because they had not peach
+pies to their lunch!--But, here they come! shawls, and veils, and
+all!--streamers flying! But mum is my cue!--Captain, are these girths
+to your fancy now?" said the landlord, aloud: then, as he stooped to
+alter a buckle, he said in a voice meant to be heard only by Captain
+Bowles, "If there's a tongue, male or female, in the three kingdoms,
+it's in that foremost woman, Mrs. Petito."
+
+"Mrs. Petito!" repeated Lord Colambre, as the name caught his ear;
+and, approaching the barouche, in which the five Abigails were now
+seated, he saw the identical Mrs. Petito, who, when he left London,
+had been in his mother's service.
+
+She recognized his lordship with very gracious intimacy; and, before
+he had time to ask any questions, she answered all she conceived he
+was going to ask, and with a volubility which justified the landlord's
+eulogium of her tongue.
+
+"Yes, my lord! I left my Lady Clonbrony some time back--the day after
+you left town; and both her ladyship and Miss Nugent was charmingly,
+and would have sent their loves to your lordship, I'm sure, if they'd
+any notion I should have met you, my lord, so soon. And I was very
+sorry to part with them; but the fact was, my lord," said Mrs. Petito,
+laying a detaining hand upon Lord Colambre's whip, one end of which
+he unwittingly trusted within her reach, "I and my lady had a little
+difference, which the best friends, you know, sometimes have: so
+my Lady Clonbrony was so condescending to give me up to my Lady
+Dashfort--and I knew no more than the child unborn that her ladyship
+had it in contemplation to cross the seas. But, to oblige my lady,
+and as Colonel Heathcock, with his regiment of militia, was coming
+for purtection in the packet at the same time, and we to have the
+government-yacht, I waived my objections to Ireland. And, indeed,
+though I was greatly frighted at first, having heard all we've heard,
+you know, my lord, from Lady Clonbrony, of there being no living
+in Ireland, and expecting to see no trees, nor accommodation, nor
+any thing but bogs all along; yet I declare, I was very agreeably
+surprised; for, as far as I've seen at Dublin and in the vicinity,
+the accommodations, and every thing of that nature now, is vastly
+put-up-able with!"
+
+"My lord," said Sir James Brooke, "we shall be late."
+
+Lord Colambre, withdrawing his whip from Mrs. Petito, turned his
+horse away. She, stretching over the back of the barouche as he rode
+off, bawled to him, "My lord, we're at Stephen's Green, when we're at
+Dublin." But as he did not choose to hear, she raised her voice to its
+highest pitch, adding, "And where are you, my lord, to be found?--as I
+have a parcel of Miss Nugent's for you."
+
+Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his direction.
+
+"Cleverly done, faith!" said the major.
+
+"I did not hear her say when Lady Dashfort is to be in town," said
+Captain Bowles.
+
+"What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your guineas to Lady
+Dashfort, and to be jockeyed out of another horse by Lady Isabel?"
+
+"Oh, confound it--no! I'll keep out of the way of that--I have had
+enough," said Captain Bowles; "it is my Lord Colambre's turn now; you
+hear that Lady Dashfort would be very _proud_ to see him. His lordship
+is in for it, and with such an auxiliary as Mrs. Petito, Lady Dashfort
+has him far Lady Isabel, as sure as he has a heart or hand."
+
+"My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged," said Lord
+Colambre; "and my hand shall go with my heart, or not at all."
+
+"Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman, no doubt," said
+Sir James Brooke. "I have an excellent opinion of your taste; and if
+you can return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don't
+trust to your heart's being engaged, much less plead that engagement;
+for it would be Lady Dashfort's sport, and Lady Isabel's joy, to
+make you break your engagement, and break your mistress's heart; the
+fairer, the more amiable, the more beloved, the greater the triumph,
+the greater the delight in giving pain. All the time love would be out
+of the question; neither mother nor daughter would care if you were
+hanged, or, as Lady Dashfort would herself have expressed it, if you
+were d----d."
+
+"With such women I should think a man's heart could be in no great
+danger," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"There you might be mistaken, my lord; there's a way to every man's
+heart, which no man in his own case is aware of, but which every woman
+knows right well, and none better than these ladies--by his vanity."
+
+"True," said Captain Bowles.
+
+"I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity," said Lord
+Colambre; "but love, I should imagine, is a stronger passion than
+vanity."
+
+"You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord. Excuse me,"
+said Captain Bowles, laughing.
+
+Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have
+nothing to do with these dangerous ladies: indeed, though he had
+talked, he had scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was
+intent upon that packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs. Petito said she
+had for him. He heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent
+his servant every day to Stephen's Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort
+had returned to town. Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito
+could not deliver the parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre's own, and
+she would not stir out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer
+able to restrain his impatience, Lord Colambre went himself--knocked
+at Lady Dashfort's door--inquired for Mrs. Petito--was shown into
+her parlour. The parcel was delivered to him; but, to his utter
+disappointment, it was a parcel _for_, not _from_ Miss Nugent. It
+contained merely an odd volume of some book of Miss Nugent's which
+Mrs. Petito said she had put up along with her things _in a mistake_,
+and she thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity of a
+safe conveyance.
+
+Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was
+fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent's name, written by her own hand, in
+the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an
+interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning, appeared--appeared for one
+moment, and retired.
+
+"Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for him from
+England, my lady--my Lady Isabel, my lord," said Mrs. Petito.
+
+Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying this, the entrance and retreat had
+been made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty: with
+such innocence, dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and
+withdrawn; with such a gracious bend the Lady Isabel had bowed to
+him as she retired; with such a smile, and with so soft a voice, had
+repeated "Lord Colambre!" that his lordship, though well aware that
+all this was mere acting, could not help saying to himself, as he
+left the house, "It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly
+something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an actress.
+And so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow before
+most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be such a fiend as
+they described her to be!"
+
+A few nights afterwards Lord Colambre was with some of his
+acquaintance at the theatre, when Lady Isabel and her mother came
+into the box, where seats had been reserved for them, and where their
+appearance instantly made that _sensation_, which is usually created
+by the entrance of persons of the first notoriety in the fashionable
+world. Lord Colambre was not a man to be dazzled by fashion, or to
+mistake notoriety for deference paid to merit, and for the admiration
+commanded by beauty or talents. Lady Dashfort's coarse person, loud
+voice, daring manners, and indelicate wit, disgusted him almost
+past endurance. He saw Sir James Brooke in the box opposite to him;
+and twice determined to go round to him. His lordship had crossed
+the benches, and once his hand was upon the lock of the door; but,
+attracted as much by the daughter as repelled by the mother, he could
+move no farther. The mother's masculine boldness heightened, by
+contrast, the charms of the daughter's soft sentimentality. The Lady
+Isabel seemed to shrink from the indelicacy of her mother's manners,
+and appeared peculiarly distressed by the strange efforts Lady
+Dashfort made, from time to time, to drag her forward, and to fix
+upon her the attention of gentlemen. Colonel Heathcock, who, as Mrs.
+Petito had informed Lord Colambre, had come over with his regiment to
+Ireland, was beckoned into their box by Lady Dashfort, by her squeezed
+into a seat next to Lady Isabel; but Lady Isabel seemed to feel
+sovereign contempt, properly repressed by politeness, for what, in a
+low whisper to a female friend on the other side of her, she called,
+"the self-sufficient inanity of this sad coxcomb." Other coxcombs, of
+a more vivacious style, who stationed themselves round her mother, or
+to whom her mother stretched from box to box to talk, seemed to engage
+no more of Lady Isabel's attention than just what she was compelled to
+give by Lady Dashfort's repeated calls of, "Isabel! Isabel! Colonel
+G----, Isabel! Lord D---- bowing to you. Bell! Bell! Sir Harry B----.
+Isabel, child, with your eyes on the stage? Did you never see a play
+before? Novice! Major P---- waiting to catch your eye this quarter of
+an hour; and now her eyes gone down to her play-bill! Sir Harry, do
+take it from her.
+
+  "'Were eyes so radiant only made to read?'"
+
+Lady Isabel appeared to suffer so exquisitely and so naturally from
+this persecution, that Lord Colambre said to himself, "If this be
+acting, it is the best acting I ever saw. If this be art, it deserves
+to be nature."
+
+And with this sentiment, he did himself the honour of handing Lady
+Isabel to her carriage this night, and with this sentiment he awoke
+next morning; and by the time he had dressed and breakfasted, he
+determined that it was impossible all that he had seen could be
+acting. "No woman, no young woman, could have such art." Sir James
+Brooke had been unwarrantably severe; he would go and tell him so.
+
+But Sir James Brooke this day received orders for his regiment to
+march to quarters in a distant part of Ireland. His head was full of
+arms, and ammunition, and knapsacks, and billets, and routes; and
+there was no possibility, even in the present chivalrous disposition
+of our hero, to enter upon the defence of the Lady Isabel. Indeed, in
+the regret he felt for the approaching and unexpected departure of his
+friend, Lord Colambre forgot the fair lady. But just when Sir James
+had his foot in the stirrup, he stopped.
+
+"By-the-bye, my dear lord, I saw you at the play last night. You
+seemed to be much interested. Don't think me impertinent if I remind
+you of our conversation when we were riding home from Tusculum;
+and if I warn you," said he, mounting his horse, "to beware of
+counterfeits--for such are abroad." Reining in his impatient steed,
+Sir James turned again, and added "_Deeds, not words_, is my motto.
+Remember, we can judge better by the conduct of people towards others
+than by their manner towards ourselves."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Our hero was quite convinced of the good sense of his friend's last
+remark, that it is safer to judge of people by their conduct to others
+than by their manners towards ourselves; but as yet, he felt scarcely
+any interest on the subject of Lady Dashfort's or Lady Isabel's
+characters: however, he inquired and listened to all the evidence he
+could obtain respecting this mother and daughter.
+
+He heard terrible reports of the mischief they had done in families;
+the extravagance into which they had led men; the imprudence, to say
+no worse, into which they had betrayed women. Matches broken off,
+reputations ruined, husbands alienated from their wives, and wives
+made jealous of their husbands. But in some of these stories he
+discovered exaggeration so flagrant as to make him doubt the whole; in
+others, it could not be positively determined whether the mother or
+daughter had been the person most to blame.
+
+Lord Colambre always followed the charitable rule of believing only
+half what the world says, and here he thought it fair to believe
+which half he pleased. He farther observed, that, though all joined
+in abusing these ladies in their absence, when present they seemed
+universally admired. Though every body cried "shame!" and "shocking!"
+yet every body visited them. No parties so crowded as Lady Dashfort's;
+no party deemed pleasant or fashionable where Lady Dashfort or Lady
+Isabel was not. The bon-mots of the mother were every where repeated;
+the dress and air of the daughter every where imitated. Yet Lord
+Colambre could not help being surprised at their popularity in Dublin,
+because, independently of all moral objections, there were causes of
+a different sort, sufficient, he thought, to prevent Lady Dashfort
+from being liked by the Irish, indeed by any society. She in general
+affected to be ill-bred, and inattentive to the feelings and opinions
+of others; careless whom she offended by her wit or by her decided
+tone. There are some persons in so high a region of fashion, that they
+imagine themselves above the thunder of vulgar censure. Lady Dashfort
+felt herself in this exalted situation, and fancied she might
+
+  "Hear the innocuous thunder roll below."
+
+Her rank was so high that none could dare to call her vulgar: what
+would have been gross in any one of meaner note, in her was freedom or
+originality, or Lady Dashfort's way. It was Lady Dashfort's pleasure
+and pride to show her power in perverting the public taste. She often
+said to those English companions with whom she was intimate, "Now see
+what follies I can lead these fools into. Hear the nonsense I can make
+them repeat as wit." Upon some occasion, one of her friends _ventured_
+to fear that something she had said was _too strong_. "Too strong,
+was it? Well, I like to be strong--woe be to the weak!" On another
+occasion she was told that certain visitors had seen her ladyship
+yawning. "Yawn, did I?--glad of it--the yawn sent them away, or I
+should have snored;--rude, was I? they won't complain. To say I was
+rude to them, would be to say, that I did not think it worth my while
+to be otherwise. Barbarians! are not we the civilized English, come to
+teach them manners and fashions? Whoever does not conform, and swear
+allegiance too, we shall keep out of the English pale."
+
+Lady Dashfort forced her way, and she set the fashion: fashion, which
+converts the ugliest dress into what is beautiful and charming,
+governs the public mode in morals and in manners; and thus, when great
+talents and high rank combine, they can debase or elevate the public
+taste.
+
+With Lord Colambre she played more artfully: she drew him out in
+defence of his beloved country, and gave him opportunities of
+appearing to advantage; this he could not help feeling, especially
+when the Lady Isabel was present. Lady Dashfort had dealt long enough
+with human nature to know, that to make any man pleased with her, she
+should begin by making him pleased with himself.
+
+Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally felt to
+Lady Dashfort wore off; her faults, he began to think, were assumed;
+he pardoned her defiance of good-breeding, when he observed that she
+could, when she chose it, be most engagingly polite. It was not that
+she did not know what was right, but that she did not think it always
+for her interest to practise it.
+
+The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her wit depended
+merely on unexpectedness; a characteristic which may be applied to any
+impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct. In some of her ladyship's
+repartees, however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was more
+than unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly
+unfit for a woman, and he was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear
+it. In short, exceptionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort's
+conversation had become entertaining to him; and though he could never
+esteem, or feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow
+that she could be agreeable.
+
+"Ay, I knew how it would be," said she, when some of her friends told
+her this. "He began by detesting me, and did I not tell you that,
+if I thought it worth my while to make him like me, he must, sooner
+or later? I delight in seeing people begin with me as they do with
+olives, making all manner of horrid faces, and silly protestations
+that they will never touch an olive again as long as they live; but,
+after a little time, these very folk grow so desperately fond of
+olives, that there is no dessert without them. Isabel, child, you are
+in the sweet line--but sweets cloy. You never heard of any body living
+on marmalade, did ye?"
+
+Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.
+
+"To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well," pursued the
+mother; "but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up
+the spirit and bustle, and carry on the plot of the piece, and I am
+that somebody--as you shall see. Is not that our hero's voice which I
+hear on the stairs?"
+
+It was Lord Colambre. His lordship had by this time become a constant
+visitor at Lady Dashfort's. Not that he had forgotten, or that he
+meant to disregard his friend Sir James Brooke's parting words. He
+promised himself faithfully, that if any thing should occur to give
+him reason to suspect designs, such as those to which the warning
+pointed, he would be on his guard, and would prove his generalship by
+an able retreat. But to imagine attacks where none were attempted,
+to suspect ambuscades in the open country, would be ridiculous and
+cowardly.
+
+"No," thought our hero; "Heaven forefend I should be such a coxcomb
+as to fancy every woman who speaks to me has designs upon my precious
+heart, or on my more precious estate!" As he walked from his hotel to
+Lady Dashfort's house, ingeniously wrong, he came to this conclusion,
+just as he ascended the stairs, and just as her ladyship had settled
+her future plan of operations.
+
+After talking over the nothings of the day, and after having given
+two or three _cuts_ at the society of Dublin, with two or three
+compliments to individuals, who she knew were favourites with his
+lordship, she suddenly turned to him. "My lord, I think you told me,
+or my own sagacity discovered, that you want to see something of
+Ireland, and that you don't intend, like most travellers, to turn
+round, see nothing, and go home content."
+
+Lord Colambre assured her ladyship that she had judged him rightly,
+for that nothing would content him but seeing all that was possible to
+be seen of his native country. It was for this special purpose he came
+to Ireland.
+
+"Ah!--well--very good purpose--can't be better; but now how to
+accomplish it. You know the Portuguese proverb says, 'You go to hell
+for the good things you _intend_ to do, and to heaven for those you
+do.' Now let us see what you will do. Dublin, I suppose, you've seen
+enough of by this time; through and through--round and round--this
+makes me first giddy, and then sick. Let me show you the country--not
+the face of it, but the body of it--the people.--Not Castle this, or
+Newtown that, but their inhabitants. I know them; I have the key, or
+the pick-lock to their minds. An Irishman is as different an animal on
+his guard and off his guard, as a miss in school from a miss out of
+school. A fine country for game, I'll show you; and if you are a good
+marksman, you may have plenty of shots 'at folly as it flies.'"
+
+Lord Colambre smiled.
+
+"As to Isabel," pursued her ladyship, "I shall put her in charge of
+Heathcock, who is going with us. She won't thank me for that, but you
+will. Nay, no fibs, man; you know, I know, as who does not that has
+seen the world? that, though a pretty woman is a mighty pretty thing,
+yet she is confoundedly in one's way, when any thing else is to be
+seen, heard,--or understood."
+
+Every objection anticipated and removed, and so far a prospect held
+out of attaining all the information he desired, with more than all
+the amusement he could have expected, Lord Colambre seemed much
+tempted to accept the invitation; but he hesitated, because, as he
+said, her ladyship might be going to pay visits where he was not
+acquainted.
+
+"Bless you! don't let that be a stumbling-block in the way of your
+tender conscience. I am going to Killpatricks-town, where you'll
+be as welcome as light. You know them, they know you; at least you
+shall have a proper letter of invitation from my Lord and my Lady
+Killpatrick, and all that. And as to the rest, you know a young man is
+always welcome every where, a young nobleman kindly welcome--I won't
+say such a young man, and such a young nobleman, for that might put
+you to your bows or your blushes--but _nobilitas_ by itself, nobility
+is virtue enough in all parties, in all families, where there are
+girls, and of course balls, as there are always at Killpatricks-town.
+Don't be alarmed; you shall not be forced to dance, or asked to marry.
+I'll be your security. You shall be at full liberty; and it is a house
+where you can do just what you will. Indeed, I go to no others. These
+Killpatricks are the best creatures in the world; they think nothing
+good or grand enough for me. If I'd let them, they would lay down
+cloth of gold over their bogs for me to walk upon. Good-hearted
+beings!" added Lady Dashfort, marking a cloud gathering on Lord
+Colambre's countenance. "I laugh at them, because I love them. I could
+not love any thing I might not laugh at--your lordship excepted. So
+you'll come--that's settled."
+
+And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatricks-town.
+
+"Every thing here sumptuous and unfinished, you see," said Lady
+Dashfort to Lord Colambre, the day after their arrival. "All begun as
+if the projectors thought they had the command of the mines of Peru,
+and ended as if the possessors had not sixpence. Luxuries enough for
+an English prince of the blood: comforts not enough for an English
+yeoman. And you may be sure that great repairs and alterations have
+gone on to fit this house for our reception, and for our English
+eyes!--Poor people!--English visitors, in this point of view, are
+horribly expensive to the Irish. Did you ever hear, that in the last
+century, or in the century before the last, to put my story far enough
+back, so that it shall not touch any body living; when a certain
+English nobleman, Lord Blank A----, sent to let his Irish friend, Lord
+Blank B----, know that he and all his train were coming over to pay
+him a visit; the Irish nobleman, Blank B----, knowing the deplorable
+condition of his castle, sat down fairly to calculate whether it would
+cost him most to put the building in good and sufficient repair,
+fit to receive these English visitors, or to burn it to the ground.
+He found the balance to be in favour of burning, which was wisely
+accomplished next day.[1] Perhaps Killpatrick would have done well
+to follow this example. Resolve me which is worst, to be burnt
+out of house and home, or to be eaten out of house and home. In
+this house, above and below stairs, including first and second
+table, housekeeper's room, lady's maids' room, butler's room, and
+gentleman's, one hundred and four people sit down to dinner every
+day, as Petito informs me, besides kitchen boys, and what they call
+_char_-women, who never sit down, but who do not eat or waste the less
+for that; and retainers and friends, friends to the fifth and sixth
+generation, who 'must get their bit and their sup;' for 'sure, it's
+only Biddy,' they say;" continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish
+brogue. "And 'sure, 'tis nothing at all, out of all his honour my lord
+has. How could he _feel_ it[2]?--Long life to him!--He's not that way:
+not a couple in all Ireland, and that's saying a great dale, looks
+less after their own, nor is more off-handeder, or open-hearteder, or
+greater openhouse-keeper, _nor_[3] my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick.'
+Now there's encouragement for a lord and a lady to ruin themselves."
+
+[Footnote 1: Fact.]
+[Footnote 2: _Feel_ it, become sensible of it, know it.]
+[Footnote 3: _Nor_, than.]
+
+Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted that
+"she was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had brogues for
+all occasions." By her mixture of mimicry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and
+truth, she succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at
+every thing at which she wished to make him laugh; at every _thing_,
+but not at every _body_: whenever she became personal, he became
+serious, or at least endeavoured to become serious; and if he could
+not instantly resume the command of his risible muscles, he reproached
+himself.
+
+"It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dashfort, in
+their own house--these hospitable people, who are entertaining us."
+
+"Entertaining us! true, and if we are _entertained_, how can we help
+laughing?"
+
+All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her
+pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings
+and principles. This he saw, and this seemed to him to be her sole
+object; but there he was mistaken. _Off-handed_ as she pretended to
+be, none dealt more in the _impromptu fait à loisir_; and, mentally
+short-sighted as she affected to be, none had more _longanimity_ for
+their own interest.
+
+It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland ridiculous
+and contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust him with his native
+country; to make him abandon the wish of residing on his own estate.
+To confirm him an absentee was her object, previously to her ultimate
+plan of marrying him to her daughter. Her daughter was poor, she would
+therefore be glad to _get_ an Irish peer for her; but would be very
+sorry, she said, to see Isabel banished to Ireland; and the young
+widow declared she could never bring herself to be buried alive in
+Clonbrony Castle.
+
+In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain
+hints from Mrs. Petito, which worked all to the same point.
+
+"Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that, when I was
+at Lady Clonbrony's," said Petito, one day, as she was attending at
+her lady's toilette, and encouraged to begin chattering. "And I own
+I was originally under the universal error that my Lord Colambre was
+to be married to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been
+converted and reformed on that score, and am at present quite in
+another way of thinking."
+
+Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask what was her present
+way of thinking? But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell her
+without being asked, did not take the trouble to speak, particularly
+as she did not choose to appear violently interested on the subject.
+
+"My present way of thinking," resumed Petito, "is in consequence of
+my having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his
+lordship's behaviour and words, the morning he was coming away from
+_Lunnun_ for Ireland; when he was morally certain nobody was up, nor
+overhearing nor overseeing him, there did I notice him, my lady,
+stopping in the antechamber, ejaculating over one of Miss Nugent's
+gloves, which he had picked up. 'Limerick!' said he, quite loud enough
+to himself; for it was a Limerick glove, my lady--'Limerick!--dear
+Ireland! she loves you as well as I do!'--or words to that effect;
+and then a sigh, and down stairs and off. So, thinks I, now the cat's
+out of the bag. And I wouldn't give much myself for Miss Broadhurst's
+chance of that young lord, with all her Bank stock, scrip, and
+_omnum_. Now, I see how the land lies, and I'm sorry for it; for she's
+no _fortin_; and she's so proud, she never said a hint to me of the
+matter: but my Lord Colambre is a sweet gentleman; and--"
+
+"Petito! don't run on so; you must not meddle with what you don't
+understand: the Miss Killpatricks, to be sure, are sweet girls,
+particularly the youngest."
+
+Her ladyship's toilette was finished; and she left Petito to go down
+to my Lady Killpatrick's woman, to tell, as a very great secret, the
+schemes that were in contemplation, among the higher powers, in favour
+of the youngest of the Miss Killpatricks.
+
+"So Ireland is at the bottom of his heart, is it?" repeated Lady
+Dashfort to herself: "it shall not be long so."
+
+From this time forward, not a day, scarcely an hour passed, but her
+ladyship did or said something to depreciate the country, or its
+inhabitants, in our hero's estimation. With treacherous ability,
+she knew and followed all the arts of misrepresentation; all those
+injurious arts which his friend, Sir James Brooke, had, with such
+honest indignation, reprobated. She knew how, not only to seize the
+ridiculous points, to make the most respectable people ridiculous,
+but she knew how to select the worst instances, the worst exceptions;
+and to produce them as examples, as precedents, from which to condemn
+whole classes, and establish general false conclusions respecting a
+nation.
+
+In the neighbourhood of Killpatrick's-town, Lady Dashfort said,
+there were several _squireens_, or little squires; a race of men who
+have succeeded to the _buckeens_, described by Young and Crumpe.
+_Squireens_ are persons who, with good long leases, or valuable farms,
+possess incomes from three to eight hundred a year, who keep a pack
+of hounds; _take out_ a commission of the peace, sometimes before
+they can spell (as her ladyship said), and almost always before they
+know any thing of law or justice. Busy and loud about small matters;
+_jobbers at assizes_; combining with one another, and trying upon
+every occasion, public or private, to push themselves forward, to the
+annoyance of their superiors, and the terror of those below them.
+
+In the usual course of things, these men are not often to be found
+in the society of gentry except, perhaps, among those gentlemen or
+noblemen who like to see hangers-on at their, tables: or who find it
+for their convenience to have underling magistrates, to _protect_
+their favourites, or to propose and _carry_ jobs for them on grand
+juries. At election times, however, these persons rise into sudden
+importance with all who have views upon the county. Lady Dashfort
+hinted to Lord Killpatrick, that her private letters from England
+spoke of an approaching dissolution of parliament: she knew that, upon
+this hint, a round of invitations would be sent to the squireens; and
+she was morally certain that they would be more disagreeable to Lord
+Colambre, and give him a worse idea of the country, than any other
+people who could be produced. Day after day some of these personages
+made their appearance; and Lady Dashfort took care to draw them out
+upon the subjects on which she knew that they would show the most
+self-sufficient ignorance, and the most illiberal spirit. They
+succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations.
+
+"Lord Colambre! how I pity you, for being compelled to these permanent
+sittings after dinner!" said Lady Isabel to him one night, when he
+came late to the ladies from the dining-room.
+
+"Lord Killpatrick insisted upon my staying to help him to push about
+that never-ending, still-beginning electioneering bottle," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"Oh! if that were all; if these gentlemen would only drink:--but their
+conversation!" "I don't wonder my mother dreads returning to Clonbrony
+Castle, if my father must have such company as this. But, surely, it
+cannot be necessary."
+
+"Oh, indispensable! positively indispensable!" cried Lady Dashfort;
+"no living in Ireland without it. You know, in every country in the
+world, you must live with the people of the country, or be torn to
+pieces: for my part, I should prefer being torn to pieces."
+
+Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel knew how to take advantage of the
+contrast between their own conversation, and that of the persons by
+whom Lord Colambre was so justly disgusted: they happily relieved his
+fatigue with wit, satire, poetry, and sentiment; so that he every day
+became more exclusively fond of their company; for Lady Killpatrick
+and the Miss Killpatricks were mere commonplace people. In the
+mornings, he rode or walked with Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel: Lady
+Dashfort, by way of fulfilling her promise of showing him the people,
+used frequently to take him into the cabins, and talk to their
+inhabitants. Lord and Lady Killpatrick, who had lived always for the
+fashionable world, had taken little pains to improve the condition of
+their tenants: the few attempts they had made were injudicious. They
+had built ornamented, picturesque cottages, within view of their park;
+and favourite followers of the family, people with half a century's
+habit of indolence and dirt, were _promoted_ to these fine dwellings.
+The consequences were such as Lady Dashfort delighted to point out:
+every thing let to go to ruin for the want of a moment's care, or
+pulled to pieces for the sake of the most surreptitious profit: the
+people most assisted always appearing proportionally wretched and
+discontented. No one could, with more ease and more knowledge of her
+ground, than Lady Dashfort, do the _dishonours_ of a country. In
+every cabin that she entered, by the first glance of her eye at the
+head, kerchiefed in no comely guise, or by the drawn-down corners of
+the mouth, or by the bit of a broken pipe, which in Ireland never
+characterizes _stout labour_, or by the first sound of the voice, the
+drawling accent on "your honour," or, "my lady," she could distinguish
+the proper objects of her charitable designs, that is to say, those
+of the old uneducated race, whom no one can help, because they will
+never help themselves. To these she constantly addressed herself,
+making them give, in all their despairing tones, a history of their
+complaints and grievances; then asking them questions, aptly contrived
+to expose their habits of self-contradiction, their servility and
+flattery one moment, and their litigious and encroaching spirit the
+next: thus giving Lord Colambre the most unfavourable idea of the
+disposition and character of the lower class of the Irish people. Lady
+Isabel the while standing by, with the most amiable air of pity, with
+expressions of the finest moral sensibility, softening all her mother
+said, finding ever some excuse for the poor creatures, and following,
+with angelic sweetness, to heal the wounds her mother inflicted.
+
+When Lady Dashfort thought she had sufficiently worked upon Lord
+Colambre's mind to weaken his enthusiasm for his native country; and
+when Lady Isabel had, by the appearance of every virtue, added to
+a delicate preference, if not partiality for our hero, ingratiated
+herself into his good opinion, and obtained an interest in his mind,
+the wily mother ventured an attack of a more decisive nature; and so
+contrived it was, that if it failed, it should appear to have been
+made without design to injure, and in total ignorance.
+
+One day, Lady Dashfort, who, in fact, was not proud of her family,
+though she pretended to be so, was herself prevailed on, though with
+much difficulty, by Lady Killpatrick, to do the very thing she wanted
+to do, to show her genealogy, which had been beautifully blazoned, and
+which was to be produced in evidence in the lawsuit that brought her
+to Ireland. Lord Colambre stood politely looking on and listening,
+while her ladyship explained the splendid intermarriages of her
+family, pointing to each medallion that was filled gloriously with
+noble, and even with royal names, till at last she stopped short, and
+covering one medallion with her finger, she said, "Pass over that,
+dear Lady Killpatrick. You are not to see that, Lord Colambre--that's
+a little blot in our scutcheon. You know, Isabel, we never talk of
+that prudent match of great uncle John's: what could he expect by
+marrying into _that_ family, where, you know, all the men were not
+_sans peur_, and none of the women _sans reproche_?"
+
+"Oh, mamma!" cried Lady Isabel, "not one exception!"
+
+"Not one, Isabel," persisted Lady Dashfort: "there was Lady ----, and
+the other sister, that married the man with the long nose; and the
+daughter again, of whom they contrived to make an honest woman, by
+getting her married in time to a _blue riband_, and who contrived to
+get herself into Doctors' Commons the very next year."
+
+"Well, dear mamma, that is enough, and too much. Oh! pray don't go
+on," cried Lady Isabel, who had appeared very much distressed during
+her mother's speech. "You don't know what you are saying: indeed,
+ma'am, you don't."
+
+"Very likely, child; but that compliment I can return to you on the
+spot, and with interest; for you seem to me, at this instant, not to
+know either what you are saying, or what you are doing. Come, come,
+explain."
+
+"Oh, no, ma'am--Pray say no more; I will explain myself another time."
+
+"Nay, there you are wrong, Isabel; in point of good-breeding, any
+thing is better than hints and mystery. Since I have been so unlucky
+as to touch upon the subject, better go through with it, and, with
+all the boldness of innocence, I ask the question, Are you, my Lord
+Colambre, or are you not, related to or connected with any of the St.
+Omars?"
+
+"Not that I know of," said Lord Colambre; "but I really am so bad a
+genealogist, that I cannot answer positively."
+
+"Then I must put the substance of my question into a new form. Have
+you, or have you not, a cousin of the name of Nugent?"
+
+"Miss Nugent!--Grace Nugent!--Yes," said Lord Colambre, with as much
+firmness of voice as he could command, and with as little change
+of countenance as possible; but, as the question came upon him so
+unexpectedly, it was not in his power to answer with an air of
+absolute indifference and composure.
+
+"And her mother was--" said Lady Dashfort.
+
+"My aunt, by marriage; her maiden name was Reynolds, I think. But she
+died when I was quite a child. I know very little about her. I never
+saw her in my life; but I am certain she was a Reynolds."
+
+"Oh, my dear lord," continued Lady Dashfort; "I am perfectly aware
+that she did take and bear the name of Reynolds; but that was not her
+maiden name--her maiden name was--; but perhaps it is a family secret
+that has been kept, for some good reason, from you, and from the poor
+girl herself; the maiden name was St. Omar, depend upon it. Nay, I
+would not have told this to you, my lord, if I could have conceived
+that it would affect you so violently," pursued Lady Dashfort, in a
+tone of raillery; "you see you are no worse off than we are. We have
+an intermarriage with the St. Omars. I did not think you would be so
+much shocked at a discovery, which proves that our family and yours
+have some little connexion."
+
+Lord Colambre endeavoured to answer, and mechanically said something
+about "happy to have the honour." Lady Dashfort, truly happy to see
+that her blow had hit the mark so well, turned from his lordship
+without seeming to observe how seriously he was affected; and Lady
+Isabel sighed, and looked with compassion on Lord Colambre, and then
+reproachfully at her mother. But Lord Colambre heeded not her looks,
+and heard none of her sighs; he heard nothing, saw nothing, though his
+eyes were intently fixed on the genealogy, on which Lady Dashfort was
+still descanting to Lady Killpatrick. He took the first opportunity he
+could of quitting the room, and went out to take a solitary walk.
+
+"There he is, departed, but not in peace, to reflect upon what has
+been said," whispered Lady Dashfort to her daughter. "I hope it will
+do him a vast deal of good."
+
+"None of the women _sans reproche_! None!--without one exception,"
+said Lord Colambre to himself; "and Grace Nugent's mother a St.
+Omar!--Is it possible? Lady Dashfort seems certain. She could not
+assert a positive falsehood--no motive. She does not know that Miss
+Nugent is the person to whom I am attached--she spoke at random. And
+I have heard it first from a stranger,--not from my mother. Why was
+it kept secret from me? Now I understand the reason why my mother
+evidently never wished that I should think of Miss Nugent--why she
+always spoke so vehemently against the marriages of relations, of
+cousins. Why not tell me the truth? It would have had the strongest
+effect, had she known my mind."
+
+Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any woman whose
+mother had conducted herself ill. His reason, his prejudices, his
+pride, his delicacy, and even his limited experience were all against
+it. All his hopes, his plans of future happiness, were shaken to their
+very foundation; he felt as if he had received a blow that stunned his
+mind, and from which he could not recover his faculties. The whole
+of that day he was like one in a dream. At night the painful idea
+continually recurred to him; and whenever he was fallen asleep, the
+sound of Lady Dashfort's voice returned upon his ear, saying the
+words, "What could he expect when he married one of the St. Omars?
+None of the women _sans reproche_."
+
+In the morning he rose early; and the first thing he did was to write
+a letter to his mother, requesting (unless there was some important
+reason for her declining to answer the question) that she would
+immediately relieve his mind from a great _uneasiness_ (he altered the
+word four times, but at last left it uneasiness). He stated what he
+had heard, and besought his mother to tell him the whole truth without
+reserve.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+One morning Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious scheme for leaving
+Lady Isabel and Lord Colambre _tête-à-tête_; but the sudden entrance
+of Heathcock disconcerted her intentions. He came to beg Lady
+Dashfort's interest with Count O'Halloran, for permission to hunt
+and shoot on his grounds next season.--"Not for myself, 'pon honour,
+but for two officers who are quartered at the next _town_ here, who
+will indubitably hang or drown themselves if they are debarred from
+sporting."
+
+"Who is this Count O'Halloran?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+Miss White, Lady Killpatrick's companion, said, "he was a great
+oddity;" Lady Dashfort, "that he was singular;" and the clergyman
+of the parish, who was at breakfast, declared "that he was a man of
+uncommon knowledge, merit, and politeness."
+
+"All I know of him," said Heathcock, "is, that he is a great
+sportsman, with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and long skirts to a
+laced waistcoat."
+
+Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary personage;
+and Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and, perhaps thinking
+absence might be as effectual as too much propinquity, immediately
+offered to call upon the officers in their way, and carry them with
+Heathcock and Lord Colambre to Halloran Castle.
+
+Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with becoming grace;
+and Major Benson and Captain Williamson were taken to the count's.
+Major Benson, who was a famous _whip_, took his seat on the box of
+the barouche; and the rest of the party had the pleasure of her
+ladyship's conversation for three or four miles: of her ladyship's
+conversation--for Lord Colambre's thoughts were far distant; Captain
+Williamson had not any thing to say; and Heathcock nothing but "Eh!
+re'lly now!--'pon honour!"
+
+They arrived at Halloran Castle--a fine old building, part of it in
+ruins, and part repaired with great judgment and taste. When the
+carriage stopped, a respectable-looking man-servant appeared on the
+steps, at the open hall-door.
+
+Count O'Halloran was out fishing; but his servant said that he would
+he at home immediately, if Lady Dashfort and the gentlemen would be
+pleased to walk in.
+
+On one side of the lofty and spacious hall stood the skeleton of an
+elk; on the other side, the perfect skeleton of a moose-deer, which,
+as the servant said, his master had made out, with great care, from
+the different bones of many of this curious species of deer, found
+in the lakes in the neighbourhood. The leash of officers witnessed
+their wonder with sundry strange oaths and exclamations.--"Eh! 'pon
+honour--re'lly now!" said Heathcock; and, too genteel to wonder at
+or admire any thing in the creation, dragged out his watch with some
+difficulty, saying, "I wonder now whether they are likely to think of
+giving us any thing to eat in this place?" And, turning his back upon
+the moose-deer, he straight walked out again upon the steps, called to
+his groom, and began to make some inquiry about his led horse. Lord
+Colambre surveyed the prodigious skeletons with rational curiosity,
+and with that sense of awe and admiration, by which a superior mind is
+always struck on beholding any of the great works of Providence.
+
+"Come, my dear lord!" said Lady Dashfort; "with our sublime
+sensations, we are keeping my old friend, Mr. Ulick Brady, this
+venerable person, waiting to show us into the reception-room."
+
+The servant bowed respectfully--more respectfully than servants of
+modern date.
+
+"My lady, the reception-room has been lately painted,--the smell of
+paint may be disagreeable; with your leave, I will take the liberty of
+showing you into my master's study."
+
+He opened the door, went in before her, and stood holding up his
+finger, as if making a signal of silence to some one within. Her
+ladyship entered, and found herself in the midst of an odd assembly:
+an eagle, a goat, a dog, an otter, several gold and silver fish in a
+glass globe, and a white mouse in a cage. The eagle, quick of eye but
+quiet of demeanour, was perched upon his stand; the otter lay under
+the table, perfectly harmless; the Angora goat, a beautiful and
+remarkably little creature of its kind, with long, curling, silky
+hair, was walking about the room with the air of a beauty and a
+favourite; the dog, a tall Irish greyhound--one of the few of that
+fine race, which is now almost extinct--had been given to Count
+O'Halloran by an Irish nobleman, a relation of Lady Dashfort's. This
+dog, who had formerly known her ladyship, looked at her with ears
+erect, recognized her, and went to meet her the moment she entered.
+The servant answered for the peaceable behaviour of all the rest of
+the company of animals, and retired. Lady Dashfort began to feed the
+eagle from a silver plate on his stand; Lord Colambre examined the
+inscription on his collar; the other men stood in amaze. Heathcock,
+who came in last, astonished out of his constant "Eh! re'lly now!"
+the moment he put himself in at the door, exclaimed, "Zounds! what's
+all this live lumber?" and he stumbled over the goat, who was at that
+moment crossing the way. The colonel's spur caught in the goat's curly
+beard; the colonel shook his foot, and entangled the spur worse and
+worse; the goat struggled and butted; the colonel skated forward on
+the polished oak floor, balancing himself with outstretched arms.
+
+The indignant eagle screamed, and, passing by, perched on Heathcock's
+shoulders. Too well bred to have recourse to the terrors of his beak,
+he scrupled not to scream, and flap his wings about the colonel's
+ears. Lady Dashfort, the while, threw herself back in her chair,
+laughing, and begging Heathcock's pardon. "Oh, take care of the dog,
+my dear colonel!" cried she; "for this kind of dog seizes his enemy by
+the back, and shakes him to death." The officers, holding their sides,
+laughed and begged--no pardon; while Lord Colambre, the only person
+who was not absolutely incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur,
+and to liberate the colonel from the goat, and the goat from the
+colonel; an attempt in which he at last succeeded, at the expense of
+a considerable portion of the goat's beard. The eagle, however, still
+kept his place; and, yet mindful of the wrongs of his insulted friend
+the goat, had stretched his wings to give another buffet. Count
+O'Halloran entered; and the bird, quitting his prey, flew down to
+greet his master. The count was a fine old military-looking gentleman,
+fresh from fishing: his fishing accoutrements hanging carelessly
+about him, he advanced, unembarrassed, to Lady Dashfort; and received
+his other guests with a mixture of military ease and gentlemanlike
+dignity.
+
+Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation in which he
+had found poor Heathcock, he apologized in general for his troublesome
+favourites. "For one of them," said he, patting the head of the dog,
+which lay quiet at Lady Dashfort's feet, "I see I have no need to
+apologize; he is where he ought to be. Poor fellow! he has never lost
+his taste for the good company to which he was early accustomed. As
+to the rest," said he, turning to Lady Dashfort, "a mouse, a bird,
+and a fish, are, you know, tribute from earth, air, and water, to a
+conqueror--"
+
+"But from no barbarous Scythian!" said Lord Colambre, smiling. The
+count looked at Lord Colambre, as at a person worthy his attention;
+but his first care was to keep the peace between his loving subjects
+and his foreign visitors. It was difficult to dislodge the old
+settlers, to make room for the new comers: but he adjusted these
+things with admirable facility; and, with a master's hand and master's
+eye, compelled each favourite to retreat into the back settlements.
+With becoming attention, he stroked and kept quiet old Victory, his
+eagle, who eyed Colonel Heathcock still, as if he did not like him;
+and whom the colonel eyed as if he wished his neck fairly wrung off.
+The little goat had nestled himself close up to his liberator, Lord
+Colambre, and lay perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed, going very
+wisely to sleep, and submitting philosophically to the loss of one
+half of his beard. Conversation now commenced, and was carried on by
+Count O'Halloran with much ability and spirit, and with such quickness
+of discrimination and delicacy of taste, as quite surprised and
+delighted our hero. To the lady the count's attention was first
+directed: he listened to her as she spoke, bending with an air of
+deference and devotion. She made her request for permission for Major
+Benson and Captain Williamson to hunt and shoot in his grounds next
+season: this was instantly granted.
+
+Her ladyship's requests were to him commands, the count said.--His
+gamekeeper should be instructed to give the gentlemen, her friends,
+every liberty, and all possible assistance.
+
+Then, turning to the officers, he said, he had just heard that
+several regiments of English militia had lately landed in Ireland;
+that one regiment was arrived at Killpatrick's-town. He rejoiced in
+the advantages Ireland, and he hoped he might be permitted to add,
+England, would probably derive from the exchange of the militia
+of both countries: habits would be improved, ideas enlarged. The
+two countries have the same interest; and, from the inhabitants
+discovering more of each other's good qualities, and interchanging
+little good offices in common life, their esteem and affection for
+each other would increase, and rest upon the firm basis of mutual
+utility.
+
+To all this Major Benson answered only, "We are not militia officers."
+
+"The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw," whispered Lady
+Dashfort to Lord Colambre, "and the captain so like the king of
+spades, putting forth one manly leg."
+
+Count O'Halloran now turned the conversation to field sports, and then
+the captain and major opened at once.
+
+"Pray now, sir," said the major, "you fox-hunt in this country, I
+suppose; and now do you manage the thing here as we do? Over night,
+you know, before the hunt, when the fox is out, stopping up the earths
+of the cover we mean to draw, and all the rest for four miles round.
+Next morning we assemble at the cover's side, and the huntsman throws
+in the hounds. The gossip here is no small part of the entertainment:
+but as soon as we hear the hounds give tongue--"
+
+"The favourite hounds," interposed Williamson.
+
+"The favourite hounds, to be sure," continued Benson: "there is a dead
+silence till pug is well out of cover, and the whole pack well in:
+then cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till your lungs crack. Away he
+goes in gallant style, and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes
+a stiff country: then they who haven't pluck lag, see no more of him,
+and, with a fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the
+death."
+
+"Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope," said Lady Dashfort: "I
+was thrown out sadly at one time in the chase."
+
+Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a book in which
+the count's pencil lay, "Pasley on the Military Policy of Great
+Britain;" it was marked with many notes of admiration, and with hands
+pointing to remarkable passages.
+
+"That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind," said the
+count.
+
+Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning with "All
+that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen
+is so trifling--" but at this instant our hero's attention was
+distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this title of a chapter:
+"Burial-place of the Nugents."
+
+"Pray now, sir," said Captain Williamson, "if I don't interrupt you,
+as you are a fisherman too; now in Ireland do you, _Mr._--"
+
+A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood behind him,
+stopped the captain short, as he pronounced the word _Mr._ Like all
+awkward people, he turned directly to ask, by his looks, what was the
+matter.
+
+The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before
+him, determined to have the fishing to himself, and went on with,
+"Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fishing, too, as well as
+hunting?"
+
+The count bowed: "I do not presume to say that, sir."
+
+"But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways?
+Give me leave;" taking the whip from Williamson's reluctant hand,
+"this ways, laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion
+next to your hook, and the point next to your shank, this wise, and
+that wise; and then, sir,--count, you take the hackle of a cock's
+neck--"
+
+"A plover's topping's better," said Williamson.
+
+"And work your gold and silver thread," pursued Benson, "up to your
+wings, and when your head's made, you fasten all."
+
+"But you never showed how your head's made," interrupted Williamson.
+
+"The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man can make a head, I
+suppose: so, sir, you fasten all."
+
+"You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the world stands,"
+cried Williamson.
+
+"Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and dozen, captain:
+and then, sir,--count, you divide your wings with a needle."
+
+"A pin's point will do," said Williamson.
+
+The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet,
+which he had opened for Lady Dashfort's inspection, a little basket
+containing a variety of artificial flies of curious construction,
+which, as he spread them on the table, made Williamson and Benson's
+eyes almost sparkle with delight. There was the _dun-fly_, for the
+month of March; and the _stone-fly_, much in vogue for April; and the
+_ruddy-fly_, of red wool, black silk, and red capon's feathers.
+
+Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of the Nugents,
+wished them all at the bottom of the sea.
+
+"And the _green-fly_, and the _moorish-fly_!" cried Benson, snatching
+them up with transport; "and, chief, the _sad-yellow-fly_, in which
+the fish delight in June; the _sad-yellow-fly_, made with the
+buzzard's wings, bound with black braked hemp, and the _shell-fly_,
+for the middle of July, made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the
+herle of a peacock's tail, famous for creating excellent sport." All
+these and more were spread upon the table before the sportsmen's
+wondering eyes.
+
+"Capital flies! capital, faith!" cried Williamson.
+
+"Treasures, faith, real treasures, by G--!" cried Benson.
+
+"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now," were the first words which Heathcock
+had uttered since his battle with the goat.
+
+"My dear Heathcock, are you alive still?" said Lady Dashfort: "I had
+really forgotten your existence."
+
+So had Count O'Halloran, but he did not say so.
+
+"Your ladyship has the advantage of me there," said Heathcock,
+stretching himself; "I wish I could forget my existence, for, in my
+mind, existence is a horrible _bore_."
+
+"I thought you _was_ a sportsman," said Williamson.
+
+"Well, sir?"
+
+"And a fisherman?"
+
+"Well, sir?"
+
+"Why look you there, sir," pointing to the flies, "and tell a body
+life's a bore."
+
+"One can't _always_ fish or shoot, I apprehend, sir," said Heathcock.
+
+"Not always--but sometimes," said Williamson, laughing; "for I suspect
+shrewdly you've forgot some of your sporting in Bond-street."
+
+"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now!" said the colonel, retreating again
+to his safe entrenchment of affectation, from which he never could
+venture without imminent danger.
+
+"'Pon honour," cried Lady Dashfort, "I can swear for Heathcock, that
+I have eaten excellent hares and ducks of his shooting, which, to my
+knowledge," added she, in a loud whisper, "he bought in the market."
+
+"_Emptum aprum!_" said Lord Colambre to the count, without danger of
+being understood by those whom it concerned.
+
+The count smiled a second time; but politely turning the attention of
+the company from the unfortunate colonel, by addressing himself to
+the laughing sportsmen, "Gentlemen, you seem to value these," said he,
+sweeping the artificial flies from the table into the little basket
+from which they had been taken; "would you do me the honour to accept
+of them? They are all of my own making, and consequently of Irish
+manufacture." Then, ringing the bell, he asked Lady Dashfort's
+permission to have the basket put into her carriage.
+
+Benson and Williamson followed the servant, to prevent them from being
+tossed into the boot. Heathcock stood still in the middle of the room,
+taking snuff.
+
+Count O'Halloran turned from him to Lord Colambre, who had just got
+happily to _the burial-place of the Nugents_, when Lady Dashfort,
+coming between them, and spying the title of the chapter, exclaimed,
+"What have you there?--Antiquities! my delight!--but I never look at
+engravings when I can see realities."
+
+Lord Colambre was then compelled to follow, as she led the way, into
+the hall, where the count took down golden ornaments, and brass-headed
+spears, and jointed horns of curious workmanship, that had been found
+on his estate; and he told of spermaceti wrapped in carpets, and he
+showed small urns, enclosing ashes; and from among these urns he
+selected one, which he put into the hands of Lord Colambre, telling
+him, that it had been lately found in an old abbey-ground in his
+neighbourhood, which had been the burial-place of some of the Nugent
+family.
+
+"I was just looking at the account of it, in the book which you saw
+open on my table.--And as you seem to take an interest in that family,
+my lord, perhaps," said the count, "you may think this urn worth your
+acceptance."
+
+Lord Colambre said, "It would be highly valuable to him--as the
+Nugents were his near relations."
+
+Lady Dashfort little expected this blow; she, however, carried him off
+to the moose-deer, and from moose-deer to round-towers, to various
+architectural antiquities, and to the real and fabulous history of
+Ireland, on all which the count spoke with learning and enthusiasm.
+But now, to Colonel Heathcock's great joy and relief, a handsome
+collation appeared in the dining-room, of which Ulick opened the
+folding-doors.
+
+"Count, you have made an excellent house of your castle," said Lady
+Dashfort.
+
+"It will be, when it is finished," said the count. "I am afraid,"
+added he, smiling, "I live like many other Irish gentlemen, who never
+are, but always to be, blessed with a good house. I began on too large
+a scale, and can never hope to live to finish it."
+
+"'Pon honour! here's a good thing, which I hope we shall live to
+finish," said Heathcock, sitting down before the collation; and
+heartily did he eat of eel-pie, and of Irish ortolans [1], which, as
+Lady Dashfort observed, "afforded him indemnity for the past, and
+security for the future."
+
+[Footnote 1: As it may be satisfactory to a large portion of the
+public, and to all men of taste, the editor subjoins the following
+account of the Irish ortolan, which will convince the world that this
+bird is not in the class of fabulous animals:
+
+"There is a small bird, which is said to be peculiar to the Blasquet
+Islands, called by the Irish, Gourder, the English name of which I
+am at a loss for, nor do I find it mentioned by naturalists. It is
+somewhat larger than a sparrow; the feathers of the back are dark, and
+those of the belly are white; the bill is straight, short, and thick;
+and it is web-footed: they are almost one lump of fat; when roasted,
+of a most delicious taste, and are reckoned to exceed an ortolan; for
+which reason the gentry hereabouts call them the _Irish Ortolan_.
+These birds are worthy of being transmitted a great way to market;
+for ortolans, it is well known, are brought from France to supply the
+markets of London."--See Smith's Account of the County of Kerry, p.
+186.]
+
+"Eh! re'lly now! your Irish ortolans are famous good eating," said
+Heathcock.
+
+"Worth being quartered in Ireland, faith! to taste 'em," said Benson.
+
+The count recommended to Lady Dashfort some of "that delicate
+sweetmeat, the Irish plum."
+
+"Bless me, sir,--count!" cried Williamson, "it's by far the best thing
+of the kind I ever tasted in all my life: where could you get this?"
+
+"In Dublin, at my dear Mrs. Godey's; where _only_, in his majesty's
+dominions, it is to be had," said the count.
+
+The whole vanished in a few seconds.
+
+"'Pon honour! I do believe this is the thing the queen's so fond of,"
+said Heathcock.
+
+Then heartily did he drink of the count's excellent Hungarian wines;
+and, by the common bond of sympathy between those who have no other
+tastes but eating and drinking, the colonel, the major, and the
+captain, were now all the best companions possible for one another.
+
+Whilst "they prolonged the rich repast," Lady Dashfort and Lord
+Colambre went to the window to admire the prospect: Lady Dashfort
+asked the count the name of some distant hill.
+
+"Ah!" said the count, "that hill was once covered with fine wood; but
+it was all cut down two years ago."
+
+"Who could have been so cruel?" said her ladyship.
+
+"I forget the present proprietor's name," said the count; "but he
+is one of those who, according to _the clause of distress_ in their
+leases, _lead, drive, and carry away_, but never _enter_ their lands;
+one of those enemies to Ireland--those cruel absentees!"
+
+Lady Dashfort looked through her glass at the mountain:--Lord Colambre
+sighed, and, endeavouring to pass it off with a smile, said frankly to
+the count, "You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are speaking
+to the son of an Irish absentee family. Nay, do not be shocked, my
+dear sir; I tell you only because I thought it fair to do so: but let
+me assure you, that nothing you could say on that subject could hurt
+me personally, because I feel that I am not, that I never can be, an
+enemy to Ireland. An absentee, voluntarily, I never yet have been; and
+as to the future, I declare--"
+
+"I declare you know nothing of the future," interrupted Lady Dashfort,
+in a half peremptory, half playful tone--"you know nothing: make no
+rash vows, and you will break none."
+
+The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort's genius for intrigue gave
+her an air of frank imprudence, which prevented Lord Colambre from
+suspecting that more was meant than met the ear. The count and he took
+leave of one another with mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to
+have got our hero out of Halloran Castle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Lord Colambre had waited with great impatience for an answer to the
+letter of inquiry which he had written about Miss Nugent's mother. A
+letter from Lady Clonbrony arrived: he opened it with the greatest
+eagerness--passed over "Rheumatism--warm weather--warm bath--Buxton
+balls--Miss Broadhurst--your _friend_, Sir Arthur Berryl, very
+assiduous!" The name of Grace Nugent he found at last, and read as
+follows:--
+
+    "Her mother's maiden name was _St. Omar_; and there was a _faux
+    pas_, certainly. She was, I am told, (for it was before my time,)
+    educated at a convent abroad; and there was an affair with a
+    Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were obliged
+    to hush up. She brought an infant to England with her, and took
+    the name of Reynolds--but none of that family would acknowledge
+    her: and she lived in great obscurity, till your Uncle Nugent saw,
+    fell in love with her, and (knowing her whole history) married
+    her. He adopted the child, gave her his name, and, after some
+    years, the whole story was forgotten. Nothing could be more
+    disadvantageous to Grace than to have it revived: this is the
+    reason we kept it secret."
+
+Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
+
+From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his countenance, she
+guessed the nature of the letter which he had been reading, and for
+the arrival of which he had been so impatient.
+
+"It has worked!" said she to herself. "_Pour le coup Philippe je te
+tiens_!"
+
+Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible than he had ever yet
+seemed to the charms of the fair Isabel.
+
+"Many a tennis-ball, and many a heart, is caught at the rebound," said
+Lady Dashfort. "Isabel! now is your time!"
+
+And so it was--or so, perhaps, it would have been, but for a
+circumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius for intrigue,
+had never taken into her consideration. Count O'Halloran came to
+return the visit which had been paid to him; and, in the course of
+conversation, he spoke of the officers who had been introduced to him,
+and told Lady Dashfort that he had heard a report which shocked him
+much--he hoped it could not be true--that one of these officers had
+introduced his mistress as his wife to Lady Oranmore, who lived in the
+neighbourhood. This officer, it was said, had let Lady Oranmore send
+her carriage for this woman; and that she had dined at Oranmore with
+her ladyship and her daughters. "But I cannot believe it! I cannot
+believe it to be possible, that any gentleman, that any _officer_
+could do such a thing!" said the count.
+
+"And is this all?" exclaimed Lady Dashfort. "Is this all the terrible
+affair, my good count, which has brought your face to this prodigious
+length?"
+
+The count looked at Lady Dashfort with astonishment.
+
+"Such a look of virtuous indignation," continued she, "did I never
+behold on or off the stage. Forgive me for laughing, count; but,
+believe me, comedy goes through the world better than tragedy, and,
+take it all in all, does rather less mischief. As to the thing in
+question, I know nothing about it; I dare say it is not true: but,
+now, suppose it were--it is only a silly _quiz_ of a raw young officer
+upon a prudish old dowager. I know nothing about it, for my part:
+but, after all, what irreparable mischief has been done? Laugh at the
+thing, and then it is a jest--a bad one, perhaps, but still only a
+jest--and there's an end of it: but take it seriously, and there is
+no knowing where it might end--in this poor man's being broke, and in
+half a dozen duels, may be."
+
+"Of that, madam," said the count, "Lady Oranmore's prudence and
+presence of mind have prevented all danger. Her ladyship _would_ not
+understand the insult. She said, or she acted as if she said, '_Je ne
+veux rien voir, rien écouter, rien savoir._' Lady Oranmore is one of
+the most respectable--"
+
+"Count, I beg your pardon!" interrupted Lady Dashfort; "but I must
+tell you, that your favourite, Lady Oranmore, has behaved very ill
+to me; purposely omitted to invite Isabel to her ball; offended and
+insulted me:--her praises, therefore, cannot be the most agreeable
+subject of conversation you can choose for my amusement; and as to the
+rest, you, who have such variety and so much politeness, will, I am
+sure, have the goodness to indulge my caprice in this instance."
+
+"I shall obey your ladyship, and be silent, whatever pleasure it might
+give me to speak on that subject," said the count; "and I trust Lady
+Dashfort will reward me by the assurance, that, however playfully she
+may have just now spoken, she seriously disapproves, and is shocked."
+
+"Oh, shocked! shocked to death! if that will satisfy you, my dear
+count."
+
+The count, obviously, was not satisfied: he had civil, as well as
+military courage, and his sense of right and wrong could stand against
+the raillery and ridicule of a fine lady.
+
+The conversation ended: Lady Dashfort thought it would have no farther
+consequences; and she did not regret the loss of a man like Count
+O'Halloran, who lived retired in his castle, and who could not have
+any influence upon the opinion of the fashionable world. However, upon
+turning from the count to Lord Colambre, who she thought had been
+occupied with Lady Isabel, and to whom she imagined all this dispute
+was uninteresting, she perceived, by his countenance, that she had
+made a great mistake. Still she trusted that her power over Lord
+Colambre was sufficient easily to efface whatever unfavourable
+impression this conversation had made upon his mind. He had no
+personal interest in the affair; and she had generally found that
+people are easily satisfied about any wrong or insult, public or
+private, in which they have no immediate concern. But all the charms
+of her conversation were now tried in vain to reclaim him from the
+reverie into which he had fallen.
+
+His friend Sir James Brooke's parting advice occurred to our hero: his
+eyes began to open to Lady Dashfort's character; and he was, from this
+moment, freed from her power. Lady Isabel, however, had taken no part
+in all this--she was blameless; and, independently of her mother, and
+in pretended opposition of sentiment, she might have continued to
+retain the influence she had gained over Lord Colambre, but that a
+slight accident revealed to him _her_ real disposition.
+
+It happened, on the evening of this day, that Lady Isabel came into
+the library with one of the young ladies of the house, talking very
+eagerly, without perceiving Lord Colambre, who was sitting in one of
+the recesses reading.
+
+"My dear creature, you are quite mistaken," said Lady Isabel, "he was
+never a favourite of mine; I always detested him; I only flirted with
+him to plague his wife. Oh, that wife! my dear Elizabeth, I do hate,"
+cried she, clasping her hands, and expressing hatred with all her
+soul, and with all her strength. "I detest that Lady de Cressy to such
+a degree, that, to purchase the pleasure of making her feel the pangs
+of jealousy for one hour, look, I would this moment lay down this
+finger and let it be cut off."
+
+The face, the whole figure of Lady Isabel, at this moment, appeared
+to Lord Colambre suddenly metamorphosed; instead of the soft, gentle,
+amiable female, all sweet charity and tender sympathy, formed to love
+and to be loved, he beheld one possessed and convulsed by an evil
+spirit--her beauty, if beauty it could be called, the beauty of a
+fiend. Some ejaculation, which he unconsciously uttered, made Lady
+Isabel start. She saw him--saw the expression of his countenance, and
+knew that all was over.
+
+Lord Colambre, to the utter astonishment and disappointment of Lady
+Dashfort, and to the still greater mortification of Lady Isabel,
+announced this night that it was necessary he should immediately
+pursue his tour in Ireland. We pass over all the castles in the air
+which the young ladies of the family had built, and which now fell
+to the ground. We pass all the civil speeches of Lord and Lady
+Killpatrick; all the vehement remonstrances of Lady Dashfort; and the
+vain sighs of Lady Isabel. To the last moment Lady Dashfort said, "He
+will not go."
+
+But he went; and, when he was gone, Lady Dashfort exclaimed, "That man
+has escaped from me." After a pause, turning to her daughter, she,
+in the most taunting and contemptuous terms, reproached her as the
+cause of this failure, concluding by a declaration, that she must in
+future manage her own affairs, and had best settle her mind to marry
+Heathcock, since every one else was too wise to think of her.
+
+Lady Isabel of course retorted. But we leave this amiable mother and
+daughter to recriminate in appropriate terms, and we follow our hero,
+rejoiced that he has been disentangled from their snares. Those who
+have never been in similar peril will wonder much that he did not
+escape sooner; those who have ever been in like danger will wonder
+more that he escaped at all. They who are best acquainted with the
+heart or imagination of man will be most ready to acknowledge that the
+combined charms of wit, beauty, and flattery, may, for a time, suspend
+the action of right reason in the mind of the greatest philosopher, or
+operate against the resolutions of the greatest of heroes.
+
+Lord Colambre pursued his way to Halloran Castle, desirous, before
+he quitted this part of the country, to take leave of the count, who
+had shown him much civility, and for whose honourable conduct and
+generous character he had conceived a high esteem, which no little
+peculiarities of antiquated dress or manner could diminish. Indeed,
+the old-fashioned politeness of what was formerly called a well-bred
+gentleman pleased him better than the indolent or insolent selfishness
+of modern men of the ton. Perhaps, notwithstanding our hero's
+determination to turn his mind from every thing connected with the
+idea of Miss Nugent, some latent curiosity about the burial-place
+of the Nugents might have operated to make him call upon the count.
+In this hope he was disappointed; for a cross miller, to whom the
+abbey-ground was let, on which the burial-place was found, had taken
+it into his head to refuse admittance, and none could enter his
+ground.
+
+Count O'Halloran was much pleased by Lord Colambre's visit. The
+very day of his arrival at Halloran Castle, the count was going to
+Oranmore; he was dressed, and his carriage was waiting: therefore Lord
+Colambre begged that he might not detain him, and the count requested
+his lordship to accompany him.
+
+"Let me have the honour of introducing you, my lord, to a family,
+with whom, I am persuaded, you will he pleased; by whom you will be
+appreciated; and at whose house you will have an opportunity of seeing
+the best manner of living of the Irish nobility."
+
+Lord Colambre accepted the invitation, and was introduced at Oranmore.
+The dignified appearance and respectable character of Lady Oranmore;
+the charming unaffected manners of her daughters; the air of domestic
+happiness and comfort in her family; the becoming magnificence,
+free from ostentation, in her whole establishment; the respect and
+affection with which she was treated by all who approached her,
+delighted and touched Lord Colambre; the more, perhaps, because he had
+heard this family so unjustly abused; and because he saw Lady Oranmore
+and her daughter in immediate contrast with Lady Dashfort and Lady
+Isabel.
+
+A little circumstance which occurred during this visit, increased his
+interest for the family. When Lady de Cressy's little boys came in
+after dinner, one of them was playing with a seal, which had just been
+torn from a letter. The child showed it to Lord Colambre, and asked
+him to read the motto. The motto was, "Deeds, not words." His friend
+Sir James Brooke's motto, and his arms. Lord Colambre eagerly inquired
+if this family was acquainted with Sir James, and he soon perceived
+that they were not only acquainted with him, but that they were
+particularly interested about him.
+
+Lady Oranmore's second daughter, Lady Harriet, appeared particularly
+pleased by the manner in which Lord Colambre spoke of Sir James. And
+the child, who had now established himself on his lordship's knee,
+turned round, and whispered in his ear, "'Twas aunt Harriet gave me
+the seal; Sir James is to be married to aunt Harriet, and then he will
+be my uncle."
+
+Some of the principal gentry of this part of the country happened to
+dine at Oranmore on one of the days Lord Colambre was there. He
+was surprised at the discovery, that there were so many agreeable,
+well-informed, and well-bred people, of whom, while he was at
+Killpatrick's-town, he had seen nothing. He now discerned how far he
+had been deceived by Lady Dashfort.
+
+Both the count, and Lord and Lady Oranmore, who were warmly attached
+to their country, exhorted him to make himself amends for the time
+he had lost, by seeing with his own eyes, and judging with his
+own understanding, of the country and its inhabitants, during the
+remainder of the time he was to stay in Ireland. The higher classes,
+in most countries, they observed, were generally similar; but, in the
+lower class, he would find many characteristic differences.
+
+When he first came to Ireland, he had been very eager to go and see
+his father's estate, and to judge of the conduct of his agents, and
+the condition of his tenantry; but this eagerness had subsided, and
+the design had almost faded from his mind, whilst under the influence
+of Lady Dashfort's misrepresentations. A mistake, relative to some
+remittance from his banker in Dublin, obliged him to delay his journey
+a few days, and during that time, Lord and Lady Oranmore showed him
+the neat cottages, and well-attended schools, in their neighbourhood.
+They showed him not only what could be done, but what had been done,
+by the influence of great proprietors residing on their own estates,
+and encouraging the people by judicious kindness.
+
+He saw,--he acknowledged the truth of this; but it did not come home
+to his feelings now as it would have done a little while ago. His
+views and plans were altered: he had looked forward to the idea of
+marrying and settling in Ireland, and then every thing in the country
+was interesting to him; but since he had forbidden himself to think of
+a union with Miss Nugent, his mind had lost its object and its spring;
+he was not sufficiently calm to think of the public good; his thoughts
+were absorbed by his private concerns. He knew and repeated to
+himself, that he ought to visit his own and his father's estates, and
+to see the condition of his tenantry; he desired to fulfil his duties,
+but they ceased to appear to him easy and pleasurable, for hope and
+love no longer brightened his prospects.
+
+That he might see and hear more than he could as heir-apparent to
+the estate, he sent his servant to Dublin to wait for him there. He
+travelled _incognito_, wrapped himself in a shabby great-coat, and
+took the name of Evans. He arrived at a village, or, as it was called,
+a town, which bore the name of Colambre. He was agreeably surprised by
+the air of neatness and finish in the houses and in the street, which
+had a nicely swept paved footway. He slept at a small but excellent
+inn,--excellent, perhaps, because it was small, and proportioned to
+the situation and business of the place. Good supper, good bed, good
+attendance; nothing out of repair; no things pressed into services
+for which they were never intended by nature or art. No chambermaid
+slipshod, or waiter smelling of whiskey; but all tight and right, and
+every body doing their own business, and doing it as if it were their
+every day occupation, not as if it were done by particular desire, for
+the first or last time this season. The landlord came in at supper
+to inquire whether any thing was wanted. Lord Colambre took this
+opportunity of entering into conversation with him, and asked him
+to whom the town belonged, and who were the proprietors of the
+neighbouring estates.
+
+"The town belongs to an absentee lord--one Lord Clonbrony, who lives
+always beyond the seas, in London; and who had never seen the town
+since it was a town, to call a town."
+
+"And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this Lord
+Clonbrony?"
+
+"It does, sir; he's a great proprietor, but knows nothing of his
+property, nor of us. Never set foot among us, to my knowledge, since
+I was as high as the table. He might as well be a West India planter,
+and we negroes, for any thing he knows to the contrary--has no more
+care, nor thought about us, than if he were in Jamaica, or the
+other world. Shame for him! But there's too many to keep him in
+countenance."
+
+Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and then inquired who
+managed the estate for this absentee.
+
+"Mr. Burke, sir. And I don't know why God was so kind to give so good
+an agent to an absentee like Lord Clonbrony, except it was for the
+sake of us, who is under him, and knows the blessing, and is thankful
+for the same."
+
+"Very good cutlets," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be good, for Mrs.
+Burke sent her own cook to teach my wife to dress cutlets."
+
+"So the agent is a good agent, is he?"
+
+"He is, thanks be to Heaven! And that's what few can boast, especially
+when the landlord's living over the seas: we have the luck to have got
+a good agent over us, in Mr. Burke, who is a right bred gentleman; a
+snug little property of his own, honestly made; with the good-will,
+and good wishes, and respect of all."
+
+"Does he live in the neighbourhood?"
+
+"Just _convanient_.[1] At the end of the town; in the house on the
+hill as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees about it, all of
+his own planting, grown too; for there's a blessing on all he does,
+and he has done a deal.--There's salad, sir, if you are _partial_ to
+it. Very fine lettuce. Mrs. Burke sent us the plants herself."
+
+[Footnote 1: _Convenient_, near.]
+
+"Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great deal, has he? In
+what way?"
+
+"In every way, sir,--sure was not it he that had improved, and
+fostered, and _made_ the town of Colambre?--no thanks to the
+proprietor, nor to the young man whose name it bears, neither!"
+
+"Have you any porter, pray, sir?"
+
+"We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you'd drink in London, for it's the
+same you get there, I understand, from Cork. And I have some of my own
+brewing, which, they say, you could not tell the difference between it
+and Cork quality--if you'd be pleased to try.--Harry, the corkscrew."
+
+The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be extremely good;
+and the landlord observed it was Mr. Burke encouraged him to learn to
+brew, and lent him his own brewer for a time to teach him.
+
+"Your Mr. Burke, I find, is _apropos_ to porter, _apropos_ to salad,
+_apropos_ to cutlets, _apropos_ to every thing," said Lord Colambre,
+smiling: "he seems to be a very uncommon agent I suppose you are a
+great favourite of his, and you do what you please with him."
+
+"Oh, no, sir, I could not say that; Mr. Burke does not have favourites
+any way; but, according to my deserts, I trust I stand well enough
+with him; for, in truth, he is a right good agent."
+
+Lord Colambre still pressed for particulars; he was an Englishman,
+and a stranger, he said, and did not exactly know what was meant in
+Ireland by a good agent.
+
+"Why, he is the man that will encourage the improving tenant; and show
+no favour or affection, but justice, which comes even to all, and does
+best for all at the long run; and, residing always in the country,
+like Mr. Burke, and understanding country business, and going about
+continually among the tenantry, he knows when to press for the rent,
+and when to leave the money to lay out upon the land; and, according
+as they would want it, can give a tenant a help or a check properly.
+Then no duty work called for, no presents, nor _glove money_, nor
+_sealing money_ even, taken or offered; no underhand hints about
+proposals, when land would be out of lease; but a considerable
+preference, if desarved, to the old tenant, and if not, a fair
+advertisement, and the best offer and tenant accepted: no screwing of
+the land to the highest penny, just to please the head landlord for
+the minute, and ruin him at the end, by the tenant's racking the land,
+and running off with the year's rent; nor no bargains to his own
+relations or friends did Mr. Burke ever give or grant, but all fair
+between landlord and tenant; and that's the thing that will last; and
+that's what I call the good agent."
+
+Lord Colambre poured out a glass of wine, and begged the innkeeper to
+drink the good agent's health, in which he was heartily pledged. "I
+thank your honour:--Mr. Burke's health! and long may he live over and
+amongst us; he saved me from drink and ruin, when I was once inclined
+to it, and made a man of me and all my family."
+
+The particulars we cannot stay to detail; this grateful man, however,
+took pleasure in sounding the praises of his benefactor, and in
+raising him in the opinion of the traveller.
+
+"As you've time, and are curious about such things, sir, perhaps you'd
+walk up to the school that Mrs. Burke has for the poor children; and
+look at the market house, and see how clean he takes a pride to keep
+the town: and any house in the town, from the priest to the parson's,
+that you'd go into, will give you the same character as I do of Mr.
+Burke; from the brogue to the boot, all speak the same of him, and can
+say no other. God for ever bless and keep him over us!"
+
+Upon making further inquiries, every thing the innkeeper had said
+was confirmed by different inhabitants of the village. Lord Colambre
+conversed with the shopkeepers, with the cottagers; and, without
+making any alarming inquiries, he obtained all the information he
+wanted. He went to the village-school--a pretty, cheerful house, with
+a neat garden and a play-green; met Mrs. Burke; introduced himself to
+her as a traveller. The school was shown to him: it was just what it
+ought to be--neither too much nor too little had been attempted; there
+was neither too much interference nor too little attention. Nothing
+for exhibition; care to teach well, without any vain attempt to teach
+in a wonderfully short time. All that experience proves to be useful,
+in both Dr. Bell's and Mr. Lancaster's modes of teaching, Mrs. Burke
+had adopted; leaving it to "graceless zealots" to fight about the
+rest. That no attempts at proselytism had been made, and that no
+illiberal distinctions had been made in his school, Lord Colambre was
+convinced, in the best manner possible, by seeing the children of
+protestants and catholics sitting on the same benches, learning from
+the same books, and speaking to one another with the same cordial
+familiarity. Mrs. Burke was an unaffected, sensible woman, free from
+all party prejudices, and without ostentation, desirous and capable
+of doing good. Lord Colambre was much pleased with her, and very glad
+that she invited him to tea.
+
+Mr. Burke did not come in till late; for he had been detained
+portioning out some meadows, which were of great consequence to the
+inhabitants of the town. He brought home to tea with him the clergyman
+and the priest of the parish, both of whom he had taken successful
+pains to accommodate with the land which suited their respective
+convenience. The good terms on which they seemed to be with each
+other, and with him, appeared to Lord Colambre to do honour to Mr.
+Burke. All the favourable accounts his lordship had received of this
+gentleman were confirmed by what he saw and heard. After the clergyman
+and priest had taken leave, upon Lord Colambre's expressing some
+surprise, mixed with satisfaction, at seeing the harmony which
+subsisted between them, Mr. Burke assured him that this was the
+same in many parts of Ireland. He observed, that "as the suspicion
+of ill-will never fails to produce it," so he had often found,
+that taking it for granted that no ill-will exists, has the most
+conciliating effect. He said, to please opposite parties, he used
+no arts; but he tried to make all his neighbours live comfortably
+together, by making them acquainted with each other's good qualities;
+by giving them opportunities of meeting sociably, and, from time
+to time, of doing each other little services and good offices.
+Fortunately, he had so much to do, he said, that he had no time for
+controversy. He was a plain man, made it a rule not to meddle with
+speculative points, and to avoid all irritating discussions: he was
+not to rule the country, but to live in it, and make others live as
+happily as he could.
+
+Having nothing to conceal in his character, opinions, or
+circumstances, Mr. Burke was perfectly open and unreserved in
+his manner and conversation; freely answered all the traveller's
+inquiries, and took pains to show him every thing he desired to
+see. Lord Colambre said he had thoughts of settling in Ireland; and
+declared, with truth, that he had not seen any part of the country he
+should like better to live in than this neighbourhood. He went over
+most of the estate with Mr. Burke, and had ample opportunities of
+convincing himself that this gentleman was indeed, as the innkeeper
+had described him, "a right good gentleman, and a right good agent."
+
+He paid Mr. Burke some just compliments on the state of the tenantry,
+and the neat and flourishing appearance of the town of Colambre.
+
+"What pleasure it will give the proprietor when he sees all you have
+done!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, sir, don't speak of it!--that breaks my heart; he never has shown
+the least interest in any thing I have done: he is quite dissatisfied
+with me, because I have not ruined his tenantry, by forcing them to
+pay more than the land is worth; because I have not squeezed money
+from them, by fining down rents; and--but all this, as an Englishman,
+sir, must be unintelligible to you. The end of the matter is, that,
+attached as I am to this place and the people about me, and, as I
+hope, the tenantry are to me,--I fear I shall he obliged to give up
+the agency.
+
+"Give up the agency! How so? you must not," cried Lord Colambre, and,
+for the moment, he forgot himself; but Mr. Burke took this only for an
+expression of good-will.
+
+"I must, I am afraid," continued he. "My employer, Lord Clonbrony,
+is displeased with me--continual calls for money come upon me from
+England, and complaints of my slow remittances."
+
+"Perhaps Lord Clonbrony is in embarrassed circumstances," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"I never speak of my employer's affairs, sir," replied Mr. Burke; now
+for the first time assuming an air of reserve.
+
+"I beg pardon, sir--I seem to have asked an indiscreet question." Mr.
+Burke was silent.
+
+"Lest my reserve should give you a false impression, I will add, sir,"
+resumed Mr. Burke, "that I really am not acquainted with the state of
+his lordship's affairs in general. I know only what belongs to the
+estate under my own management. The principal part of his lordship's
+property, the Clonbrony estate, is under another agent, Mr.
+Garraghty."
+
+"Garraghty!" repeated Lord Colambre; "what sort of a person is he? But
+I may take it for granted, that it cannot fall to the lot of one and
+the same absentee to have two such agents as Mr. Burke."
+
+Mr. Burke bowed, and seemed pleased with the compliment, which he
+knew he deserved--but not a word did he say of Mr. Garraghty; and
+Lord Colambre, afraid of betraying himself by some other indiscreet
+question, changed the conversation.
+
+The next night the post brought a letter to Mr. Burke, from Lord
+Clonbrony, which he gave to his wife as soon as he had read it,
+saying, "See the reward of all my services!"
+
+Mrs. Burke glanced her eye over the letter, and being extremely fond
+of her husband, and sensible of his deserving far different treatment,
+burst into indignant exclamations--"See the reward of all your
+services, indeed!--What an unreasonable, ungrateful man!--So, this is
+the thanks for all you have done for Lord Clonbrony!"
+
+"He does not know what I have done, my dear. He never has seen what I
+have done."
+
+"More shame for him!"
+
+"He never, I suppose, looks over his accounts, or understands them."
+
+"More shame for him!"
+
+"He listens to foolish reports, or misrepresentations, perhaps. He is
+at a distance, and cannot find out the truth."
+
+"More shame for him!"
+
+"Take it quietly, my dear; we have the comfort of a good conscience.
+The agency may be taken from me by this lord; but the sense of having
+done my duty, no lord or man upon earth can give or take away."
+
+"Such a letter!" said Mrs. Burke, taking it up again. "Not even the
+civility to write with his own hand!--only his signature to the
+scrawl--looks as if it was written by a drunken man, does not it, Mr.
+Evans?" said she, showing the letter to Lord Colambre, who immediately
+recognized the writing of Sir Terence O'Fay.
+
+"It does not look like the hand of a gentleman, indeed," said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"It has Lord Clonbrony's own signature, let it be what it will," said
+Mr. Burke, looking closely at it; "Lord Clonbrony's own writing the
+signature is, I am clear of that."
+
+Lord Clonbrony's son was clear of it, also; but he took care not to
+give any opinion on that point.
+
+"Oh, pray read it, sir, read it," said Mrs. Burke; "read it, pray; a
+gentleman may write a bad hand, but no _gentleman_ could write such
+a letter as that to Mr. Burke--pray read it, sir; you who have seen
+something of what he has done for the town of Colambre, and what he
+has made of the tenantry and the estate of Lord Clonbrony."
+
+Lord Colambre read, and was convinced that his father had never
+written or read the letter, but had signed it, trusting to Sir Terence
+O'Fay's having expressed his sentiments properly.
+
+    "SIR,
+
+    "As I have no farther occasion for your services, you will take
+    notice, that I hereby request you will forthwith hand over, on or
+    before the 1st of November next, your accounts, with the balance
+    due of the _hanging-gale_ (which, I understand, is more than ought
+    to be at this season) to Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., College-green,
+    Dublin, who, in future, will act as agent, and shall get, by post,
+    immediately, a power of attorney for the same, entitling him to
+    receive and manage the Colambre, as well as the Clonbrony estate,
+    for,
+
+    "Sir, your obedient humble servant,
+
+    "CLONBRONY.
+
+    "_Grosvenor-square_."
+
+Though misrepresentation, caprice, or interest, might have induced
+Lord Clonbrony to desire to change his agent, yet Lord Colambre knew
+that his father never could have announced his wishes in such a style;
+and, as he returned the letter to Mrs. Burke, he repeated, he was
+convinced that it was impossible that any nobleman could have written
+such a letter; that it must have been written by some inferior person;
+and that his lordship had signed it without reading it.
+
+"My dear, I'm sorry you showed that letter to Mr. Evans," said Mr.
+Burke; "I don't like to expose Lord Clonbrony; he is a well-meaning
+gentleman, misled by ignorant or designing people; at all events, it
+is not for us to expose him."
+
+"He has exposed himself," said Mrs. Burke; "and the world should know
+it."
+
+"He was very kind to me when I was a young man," said Mr. Burke; "we
+must not forget that now, because we are angry, my love."
+
+"Why, no, my love, to be sure we should not; but who could have
+recollected it just at this minute but yourself? And now, sir,"
+turning to Lord Colambre, "you see what kind of a man this is: now is
+it not difficult for me to bear patiently to see him ill-treated?"
+
+"Not only difficult, but impossible, I should think, madam," said Lord
+Colambre; "I know even I, who am a stranger, cannot help feeling for
+both of you, as you must see I do."
+
+"But half the world, who don't know him," continued Mrs. Burke, "when
+they hear that Lord Clonbrony's agency is taken from him, will think
+perhaps that he is to blame."
+
+"No, madam," said Lord Colambre, "that you need not fear; Mr. Burke
+may safely trust to his character: from what I have within these two
+days seen and heard, I am convinced that such is the respect he has
+deserved and acquired, that no blame can touch him."
+
+"Sir, I thank you," said Mrs. Burke, the tears coming into her eyes:
+"you can judge--you do him justice; but there are so many who don't
+know him, and who will decide without knowing any of the facts."
+
+"That, my dear, happens about every thing to every body," said Mr.
+Burke; "but we must have patience; time sets all judgments right,
+sooner or later."
+
+"But the sooner the better," said Mrs. Burke. "Mr. Evans, I hope you
+will be so kind, if ever you hear this business talked of--"
+
+"Mr. Evans lives in Wales, my dear."
+
+"But he is travelling through Ireland, my dear, and he said he should
+return to Dublin, and, you know, there he certainly will hear it
+talked of; and I hope he will do me the favour to state what he has
+seen and knows to be the truth."
+
+"Be assured that I will do Mr. Burke justice--as far as it is in my
+power," said Lord Colambre, restraining himself much, that he might
+not say more than became his assumed character. He took leave of this
+worthy family that night, and, early the next morning, departed.
+
+"Ah!" thought he, as he drove away from this well-regulated and
+flourishing place, "how happy I might be, settled here with such a
+wife as--her of whom I must think no more."
+
+He pursued his way to Clonbrony, his father's other estate, which was
+at a considerable distance from Colambre: he was resolved to know what
+kind of agent Mr. Nicholas Garraghty might be, who was to supersede
+Mr. Burke, and, by power of attorney, to be immediately entitled to
+receive and manage the Colambre as well as the Clonbrony estate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+Towards the evening of the second day's journey, the driver of Lord
+Colambre's hackney chaise stopped, and jumping off the wooden bar, on
+which he had been seated, exclaimed, "We're come to the bad step, now.
+The bad road's beginning upon us, please your honour."
+
+"Bad road! that is very uncommon in this country. I never saw such
+fine roads as you have in Ireland."
+
+"That's true; and God bless your honour, that's sensible of that same,
+for it's not what all the foreign quality I drive have the manners to
+notice. God bless your honour! I heard you're a Welshman, but whether
+or no, I am sure you are a jantleman, any way, Welsh or other."
+
+Notwithstanding the shabby great coat, the shrewd postilion perceived,
+by our hero's language, that he was a gentleman. After much dragging
+at the horses' heads, and pushing and lifting, the carriage was got
+over what the postilion said was the worst part of the _bad step_; but
+as the road "was not yet to say good," he continued walking beside the
+carriage.
+
+"It's only bad just hereabouts, and that by accident," said he, "on
+account of there being no jantleman resident in it, nor near; but only
+a bit of an under-agent, a great little rogue, who gets his own turn
+out of the roads, and every thing else in life. I, Larry Brady, that
+am telling your honour, have a good right to know; for myself, and my
+father, and my brother, Pat Brady, the wheelwright, had once a farm
+under him; but was ruined, horse and foot, all along with him, and
+cast out, and my brother forced to fly the country, and is now working
+in some coachmaker's yard, in London; banished he is!--and here am I,
+forced to be what I am--and now that I'm reduced to drive a hack, the
+agent's a curse to me still, with these bad roads, killing my horses
+and wheels--and a shame to the country, which I think more of--Bad
+luck to him!"
+
+"I know your brother; he lives with Mr. Mordicai, in Long-Acre, in
+London."
+
+"Oh, God bless you for that!"
+
+They came at this time within view of a range of about four-and-twenty
+men and boys, sitting astride on four-and-twenty heaps of broken
+stones, on each side of the road; they were all armed with hammers,
+with which they began to pound with great diligence and noise as soon
+as they saw the carriage. The chaise passed between these batteries,
+the stones flying on all sides.
+
+"How are you, Jem?--How are you Phil?" said Larry. "But hold your
+hand, can't ye, while I stop and get the stones out of the horses'
+_feet_. So you're making up the rent, are you, for St. Dennis?"
+
+"Whoosh!" said one of the pounders, coming close to the postilion, and
+pointing his thumb back towards the chaise. "Who have you in it?"
+
+"Oh, you need not scruple, he's a very honest man;--he's only a man
+from North Wales, one Mr. Evans, an innocent jantleman, that's sent
+over to travel up and down the country, to find is there any copper
+mines in it."
+
+"How do you know, Larry?"
+
+"Because I know very well, from one that was tould, and I _seen_ him
+tax the man of the King's Head with a copper half-crown at first
+sight, which was only lead to look at, you'd think, to them that was
+not skilful in copper. So lend me a knife, till I cut a linchpin out
+of the hedge, for this one won't go far."
+
+Whilst Larry was making the linchpin, all scruple being removed, his
+question about St. Dennis and the rent was answered.
+
+"Ay, it's the rint, sure enough, we're pounding out for him; for he
+sent the driver round last night-was-eight days, to warn us Old Nick
+would be down a'-Monday, to take a sweep among us; and there's only
+six clear days, Saturday night, before the assizes, sure: so we must
+see and get it finished any way, to clear the presentment again' the
+swearing day, for he and Paddy Hart is the overseers themselves, and
+Paddy is to swear to it."
+
+"St. Dennis, is it? Then you've one great comfort and security--that
+he won't be _particular_ about the swearing; for since ever he had his
+head on his shoulders, an oath never stuck in St. Dennis's throat,
+more than in his own brother, Old Nick's."
+
+"His head upon his shoulders!" repeated Lord Colambre. "Pray, did you
+ever hear that St. Dennis's head was off his shoulders?"
+
+"It never was, plase your honour, to my knowledge."
+
+"Did you never, among your saints, hear of St. Dennis carrying his
+head in his hand?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"The _rael_ saint!" said the postilion, suddenly changing his tone,
+and looking shocked. "Oh, don't be talking that way of the saints,
+plase your honour."
+
+"Then of what St. Dennis were you talking just now?--Whom do you mean
+by St. Dennis, and whom do you call Old Nick?"
+
+"Old Nick," answered the postilion, coming close to the side of the
+carriage, and whispering,--"Old Nick, plase your honour, is our
+nickname for one Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., of College-green, Dublin,
+and St. Dennis is his brother Dennis, who is Old Nick's brother in all
+things, and would fain be a saint, only he's a sinner. He lives just
+by here, in the country, under-agent to Lord Clonbrony, as Old Nick is
+upper-agent--it's only a joke among the people, that are not fond of
+them at all. Lord Clonbrony himself is a very good jantleman, if he
+was not an absentee, resident in London, leaving us and every thing to
+the likes of them."
+
+Lord Colambre listened with all possible composure and attention;
+but the postilion, having now made his linchpin of wood, and _fixed
+himself_, he mounted his bar, and drove on, saying to Lord Colambre,
+as he looked at the road-makers, "Poor _cratures_! They couldn't keep
+their cattle out of pound, or themselves out of jail, but by making
+this road."
+
+"Is road-making, then, a very profitable business!--Have road-makers
+higher wages than other men in this part of the country?"
+
+"It is, and it is not--they have, and they have not--plase your
+honour."
+
+"I don't understand you."
+
+"No, beca-ase you're an Englishman--that is, a Welshman--beg your
+honour's pardon. But I'll tell you how that is, and I'll go slow over
+these broken stones--for I can't go fast: it is where there's no
+jantleman over these under-agents, as here, they do as they plase;
+and when they have set the land they get rasonable from the head
+landlords, to poor cratures at a rackrent, that they can't live and
+pay the rent, they say--"
+
+"Who says?"
+
+"Them under-agents, that have no conscience at all. Not all--but
+_some_, like Dennis, says, says he, 'I'll get you a road to make
+up the rent:' that is, plase your honour, the agent gets them a
+presentment for so many perches of road from the grand jury, at twice
+the price that would make the road. And tenants are, by this means, as
+they take the road by contract, at the price given by the county, able
+to pay all they get by the job, over and above potatoes and salt, back
+again to the agent, for the arrear on the land. Do I make your honour
+_sensible_[1]?"
+
+[Footnote 1: Do I make you understand?]
+
+"You make me much more sensible than I ever was before," said Lord
+Colambre: "but is not this cheating the county?"
+
+"Well, and suppose," replied Larry, "is not it all for my good, and
+yours too, plase your honour?" said Larry, looking very shrewdly.
+
+"My good!" said Lord Colambre, startled. "What have I to do with it?"
+
+"Haven't you to do with the roads as well as me, when you're
+travelling upon them, plase your honour? And sure, they'd never be
+got made at all, if they wern't made this ways; and it's the best way
+in the wide world, and the finest roads we have. And when the _rael_
+jantleman's resident in the country, there's no jobbing can be,
+because they're then the leading men on the grand jury; and these
+journeymen jantlemen are then kept in order, and all's right."
+
+Lord Colambre was much surprised at Larry's knowledge of the manner in
+which county business is managed, as well as by his shrewd good sense:
+he did not know that this is not uncommon in his rank of life in
+Ireland.
+
+Whilst Larry was speaking, Lord Colambre was looking from side to side
+at the desolation of the prospect.
+
+"So this is Lord Clonbrony's estate, is it?"
+
+"Ay, all you see, and as far and farther than you can see. My Lord
+Clonbrony wrote, and ordered plantations here, time back; and enough
+was paid to labourers for ditching and planting. And, what next?--Why,
+what did the under-agent do, but let the goats in through gaps, left
+o' purpose, to bark the trees, and then the trees was all banished.
+And next, the cattle was let in trespassing, and winked at, till the
+land was all poached: and then the land was waste, and cried down:
+and Saint Dennis wrote up to Dublin to Old Nick, and he over to the
+landlord, how none would take it, or bid any thing at all for it: so
+then it fell to him a cheap bargain. Oh, the tricks of them! who knows
+'em, if I don't?" Presently, Lord Colambre's attention was roused
+again, by seeing a man running, as if for his life, across a bog, near
+the roadside: he leaped over the ditch, and was upon the road in an
+instant. He seemed startled at first, at the sight of the carriage;
+but, looking at the postilion, Larry nodded, and he smiled and said,
+"All's safe!" "Pray, my good friend, may I ask what that is you have
+on your shoulder?" said Lord Colambre. "_Plase_ your honour, it
+is only a private still, which I've just caught out yonder in the
+bog; and I'm carrying it in with all speed to the gauger, to make a
+discovery, that the jantleman may benefit by the reward: I expect
+he'll make me a compliment."
+
+"Get up behind, and I'll give you a lift," said the postilion.
+
+"Thank you kindly--but better my legs!" said the man; and, turning
+down a lane, off he ran again, as fast as possible.
+
+"Expect he'll make me a compliment," repeated Lord Colambre, "to make
+a discovery!"
+
+"Ay, plase your honour; for the law is," said Larry, "that, if an
+unlawful still, that is, a still without licence for whiskey, is
+found, half the benefit of the fine that's put upon the parish goes to
+him that made the discovery: that's what that man is after; for he's
+an informer."
+
+"I should not have thought, from what I see of you," said Lord
+Colambre, smiling, "that you, Larry, would have offered an informer a
+lift."
+
+"Oh, plase your honour!" said Larry, smiling archly, "would not I give
+the laws a lift, when in my power?"
+
+Scarcely had he uttered these words, and scarcely was the informer out
+of sight, when, across the same bog, and over the ditch, came another
+man, a half kind of gentleman, with a red silk handkerchief about his
+neck, and a silver-handled whip in his hand.
+
+"Did you see any man pass the road, friend?" said he to the postilion.
+
+"Oh! who would I see? or why would I tell?" replied Larry in a sulky
+tone.
+
+"Come, come, be smart!" said the man with the silver whip, offering
+to put half-a-crown into the postilion's hand; "point me which way he
+took."
+
+"I'll have none o' your silver! don't touch me with it!" said Larry.
+"But, if you'll take my advice, you'll strike across back, and follow
+the fields, out to Killogenesawce."
+
+The exciseman set out again immediately, in an opposite direction to
+that which the man who carried the still had taken. Lord Colambre now
+perceived that the pretended informer had been running off to conceal
+a still of his own.
+
+"The gauger, plase your honour," said Larry, looking back at Lord
+Colambre; "the gauger is a _still-hunting_!"
+
+"And you put him on a wrong scent!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Sure, I told him no lie: I only said, 'If you'll take my advice.' And
+why was he such a fool as to take my advice, when I wouldn't take his
+fee?"
+
+"So this is the way, Larry, you give a lift to the laws!"
+
+"If the laws would give a lift to me, plase your honour, may be I'd do
+as much by them. But it's only these revenue laws I mean; for I never,
+to my knowledge, broke another commandment: but it's what no honest
+poor man among his neighbours would scruple to take--a glass of
+_potsheen_."
+
+"A glass of what, in the name of Heaven?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"_Potsheen_, plase your honour;--beca-ase it's the little whiskey
+that's made in the private still or pot; and _sheen_, because it's a
+fond word for whatsoever we'd like, and for what we have little of,
+and would make much of: after taking the glass of it, no man could go
+and inform to ruin the _cratures_; for they all shelter on that estate
+under favour of them that go shares, and make rent of 'em--but I'd
+never inform again' 'em. And, after all, if the truth was known, and
+my Lord Clonbrony should be informed against, and presented, for it's
+his neglect is the bottom of the nuisance--"
+
+"I find all the blame is thrown upon this poor Lord Clonbrony," said
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"Because he is absent," said Larry: "it would not be so was he
+_prisint_. But your honour was talking to me about the laws. Your
+honour's a stranger in this country, and astray about them things.
+Sure, why would I mind the laws about whiskey, more than the quality,
+or the _jidge_ on the bench?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Why! was not I _prisint_ in the court-house myself, when the _jidge_
+was on the bench judging a still, and across the court came in one
+with a sly jug of _potsheen_ for the _jidge_ himself, who _prefarred_
+it, when the right thing, to claret; and when I _seen_ that, by the
+laws! a man might talk himself dumb to me after again' potsheen, or in
+favour of the revenue, or revenue officers. And there they may go on,
+with their gaugers, and their surveyors, and their supervisors, and
+their watching officers, and their coursing officers, setting 'em
+one after another, or one over the head of another, or what way they
+will--we can baffle and laugh at 'em. Didn't I know, next door to our
+inn, last year, ten _watching officers_ set upon one distiller, and
+he was too cunning for them; and it will always be so, while ever
+the people think it no sin. No, till then, not all their dockets and
+permits signify a rush, or a turf. And the gauging rod, even! who
+fears it? They may spare that rod, for it will never mend the child."
+
+How much longer Larry's dissertation on the distillery laws would have
+continued, had not his ideas been interrupted, we cannot guess; but he
+saw he was coming to a town, and he gathered up the reins, and plied
+the whip, ambitious to make a figure in the eyes of its inhabitants.
+
+This _town_ consisted of one row of miserable huts, sunk beneath the
+side of the road, the mud walls crooked in every direction; some of
+them opening in wide cracks, or zigzag fissures, from top to bottom,
+as if there had just been an earthquake--all the roofs sunk in various
+places--thatch off, or overgrown with grass--no chimneys, the smoke
+making its way through a hole in the roof, or rising in clouds from
+the top of the open door--dunghills before the doors, and green
+standing puddles--squalid children, with scarcely rags to cover them,
+gazing at the carriage.
+
+"Nugent's town," said the postilion, "once a snug place, when my Lady
+Clonbrony was at home to white-wash it, and the like."
+
+As they drove by, some men and women put their heads through the smoke
+out of the cabins; pale women, with long, black, or yellow locks--men
+with countenances and figures bereft of hope and energy.
+
+"Wretched, wretched people!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Then it's not their fault, neither," said Larry; "for my uncle's one
+of them, and as thriving and hard a working man as could be in all
+Ireland, he was, _afore_ he was tramped under foot, and his heart
+broke. I was at his funeral, this time last year; and for it, may the
+agent's own heart, if he has any, burn in--"
+
+Lord Colambre interrupted this denunciation by touching Larry's
+shoulder, and asking some question, which, as Larry did not distinctly
+comprehend, he pulled up the reins, and the various noises of the
+vehicle stopped suddenly.
+
+"I did not hear well, plase your honour."
+
+"What are those people?" pointing to a man and woman, curious figures,
+who had come out of a cabin, the door of which the woman, who came out
+last, locked, and carefully hiding the key in the thatch, turned her
+back upon the man, and they walked away in different directions: the
+woman bending under a huge bundle on her back, covered by a yellow
+petticoat turned over her shoulders; from the top of this bundle the
+head of an infant appeared; a little boy, almost naked, followed her
+with a kettle, and two girls, one of whom could but just walk, held
+her hand and clung to her ragged petticoat; forming, all together, a
+complete group of beggars. The woman stopped, and looked after the
+man.
+
+The man was a Spanish-looking figure, with gray hair; a wallet hung
+at the end of a stick over one shoulder, a reaping-hook in the other
+hand: he walked off stoutly, without ever casting a look behind him.
+
+"A kind harvest to you, John Dolan," cried the postilion, "and success
+to ye, Winny, with the quality. There's a luck-penny for the child
+to begin with," added he, throwing the child a penny. "Your honour,
+they're only poor _cratures_ going up the country to beg, while the
+man goes over to reap the harvest in England. Nor this would not be,
+neither, if the lord was in it to give 'em _employ_. That man, now,
+was a good and willing _slave_ in his day: I mind him working with
+myself in the shrubberies at Clonbrony Castle, when I was a boy--but
+I'll not be detaining your honour, now the road's better."
+
+The postilion drove on at a good rate for some time, till he came to
+a piece of the road freshly covered with broken stones, where he was
+obliged again to go slowly.
+
+They overtook a string of cars, on which were piled up high, beds,
+tables, chairs, trunks, boxes, band-boxes.
+
+"How are you, Finnucan? you've fine loading there--from Dublin, are
+you?"
+
+"From Bray."
+
+"And what news?"
+
+"_Great_ news and bad for Old Nick, or some belonging to him, thanks
+be to Heaven! for myself hates him."
+
+"What's happened him?"
+
+"His sister's husband that's failed, the great grocer that was, the
+man that had the wife that _ow'd_[1] the fine house near Bray, that
+they got that time the parliament _flitted_, and that I seen in her
+carriage flaming--well, it's all out; they're all _done up_."
+
+[Footnote 1: Owned.]
+
+"Tut! is that all? then they'll thrive, and set up again grander than
+ever, I'll engage: have not they Old Nick for an attorney at their
+back? a good warrant?"
+
+"Oh, trust him for that! he won't go _security_, nor pay a farthing,
+for his _shister_, nor wouldn't, was she his father; I heard him
+telling her so, which I could not have done in his place, at that
+time, and she crying as if her heart would break, and I standing by in
+the parlour."
+
+"The _neger_[1]! And did he speak that way, and you by?"
+
+[Footnote 1: _Neger_, quasi negro; meo periculo, _niggard_]
+
+"Ay, did he; and said, 'Mrs. Raffarty,' says he, 'it's all your own
+fault; you're an extravagant fool, and ever was, and I wash my hands
+of you.' that was the word he spoke; and she answered, and said, 'And
+mayn't I send the beds and blankets?' said she, 'and what I can, by
+the cars, out of the way of the creditors, to Clonbrony Castle? and
+won't you let me hide there, from the shame, till the bustle's over?'
+'You may do that,' says he, 'for what I care; but remember,' says he,
+'that I've the first claim to them goods;' and that's all he would
+grant. So they are coming down all o' Monday--them are the band-boxes,
+and all--to settle it; and faith it was a pity of her! to hear her
+sobbing, and to see her own brother speak and look so hard! and she a
+lady."
+
+"Sure, she's not a lady born, no more than himself," said Larry; "but
+that's no excuse for him. His heart's as hard as that stone," said
+Larry; "and my own people knew that long ago, and now his own know it:
+and what right have we to complain, since he's as bad to his own flesh
+and blood as to us?"
+
+With this consolation, and with a "God speed you," given to the
+carman, Larry was driving off; but the carman called to him, and
+pointed to a house, at the corner of which, on a high pole, was
+swinging an iron sign of three horse-shoes, set in a crooked frame,
+and at the window hung an empty bottle, proclaiming whiskey within.
+
+"Well, I don't care if I do," said Larry; "for I've no other comfort
+left me in life now. I beg your honour's pardon, sir, for a minute,"
+added he, throwing the reins into the carriage to Lord Colambre, as he
+leaped down. All remonstrance and power of lungs to reclaim him were
+vain! He darted into the whiskey-house with the carman--re-appeared
+before Lord Colambre could accomplish getting out, remounted his seat,
+and, taking the reins, "I thank your honour," said he; "and I'll bring
+you into Clonbrony before it's pitch-dark, though it's nightfall, and
+that's four good miles, but 'a spur in the head is worth two in the
+heel.'"
+
+Larry, to demonstrate the truth of his favourite axiom, drove off at
+such a furious rate over great stones left in the middle of the road
+by carmen, who had been driving in the gudgeons of their axletrees to
+hinder them from lacing[1], that Lord Colambre thought life and limb
+in imminent danger; and feeling that, at all events, the jolting and
+bumping was past endurance, he had recourse to Larry's shoulder, and
+shook and pulled, and called to him to go slower, but in vain: at
+last the wheel struck full against a heap of stones at a turn of the
+road, the wooden linchpin came off, and the chaise was overset: Lord
+Colambre was a little bruised, but glad to escape without fractured
+bones.
+
+[Footnote 1: _Opening_; perhaps, from _lacher_, to loosen.]
+
+"I beg your honour's pardon," said Larry, completely sobered; "I'm as
+glad as the best pair of boots ever I see, to see your honour nothing
+the worse for it. It was the linchpin, and them barrows of loose
+stones, that ought to be fined any way, if there was any justice in
+the country."
+
+"The pole is broke; how are we to get on?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Murder! murder!--and no smith nearer than Clonbrony; nor rope even.
+It's a folly to talk, we can't get to Clonbrony, nor stir a step
+backward or forward the night."
+
+"What, then, do you mean to leave me all night in the middle of the
+road?" cried Lord Colambre, quite exasperated.
+
+"Is it me? plase your honour. I would not use any jantleman so ill,
+_barring_ I could do no other," replied the postilion, coolly: then,
+leaping across the ditch, or, as he called it, the _gripe_ of the
+ditch, he scrambled up, and while he was scrambling, said, "If your
+honour will lend me your hand, till I pull you up the back of the
+ditch, the horses will stand while we go. I'll find you as pretty
+a lodging for the night, with a widow of a brother of my shister's
+husband that was, as ever you slept in your life; for Old Nick or St.
+Dennis has not found 'em out yet: and your honour will he, no compare,
+snugger than at the inn at Clonbrony, which has no roof, the devil a
+stick. But where will I get your honour's hand; for it's coming on so
+dark, I can't see rightly. There, you're up now safe. Yonder candle's
+the house."
+
+"Go and ask whether they can give us a night's lodging."
+
+"Is it _ask_? when I see the light!--Sure they'd be proud to give the
+traveller all the beds in the house, let alone one. Take care of the
+potatoe furrows, that's all, and follow me straight. I'll go on to
+meet the dog, who knows me, and might be strange to your honour."
+
+"Kindly welcome," were the first words Lord Colambre heard when he
+approached the cottage; and "kindly welcome" was in the sound of the
+voice and in the countenance of the old woman who came out, shading
+her rush-candle from the wind, and holding it so as to light the path.
+When he entered the cottage, he saw a cheerful fire and a neat pretty
+young woman making it blaze; she curtsied, put her spinning-wheel out
+of the way, set a stool by the fire for the stranger, and repeating,
+in a very low tone of voice, "Kindly welcome, sir," retired.
+
+"Put down some eggs, dear, there's plenty in the bowl," said the old
+woman, calling to her; "I'll do the bacon. Was not we lucky to be
+up?--The boy's gone to bed, but waken him," said she, turning to the
+postilion; "and he'll help you with the chay, and put your horses in
+the bier for the night."
+
+No: Larry chose to go on to Clonbrony with the horses, that he might
+get the chaise mended betimes for his honour. The table was set; clean
+trenchers, hot potatoes, milk, eggs, bacon, and "kindly welcome to
+all."
+
+"Set the salt, dear; and the butter, love: where's your head, Grace,
+dear."
+
+"Grace!" repeated Lord Colambre, looking up: and, to apologize for
+his involuntary exclamation, he added, "Is Grace a common name in
+Ireland?"
+
+"I can't say, plase your honour; but it was give her by Lady
+Clonbrony, from a niece of her own, God bless her! and a very kind
+lady she was to us and to all when she was living in it; but those
+times are gone past," said the old woman, with a sigh. The young woman
+sighed too; and, sitting down by the fire, began to count the notches
+in a little bit of stick, which she held in her hand; and after she
+had counted them, sighed again.
+
+"But don't be sighing, Grace, now," said the old woman; "sighs is bad
+sauce for the traveller's supper; and we won't be troubling him with
+more," added she, turning to Lord Colambre with a smile.
+
+"Is your egg done to your liking?"
+
+"Perfectly, thank you."
+
+"Then I wish it was a chicken, for your sake, which it should have
+been, and roast too, had we time. I wish I could see you eat another
+egg."
+
+"No more, thank you, my good lady; I never ate a better supper, nor
+received a more hospitable welcome."
+
+"Oh, the welcome is all we have to offer."
+
+"May I ask what that is?" said Lord Colambre, looking at the notched
+stick, which the young woman held in her hand, and on which her eyes
+were still fixed.
+
+"It's a _tally_, plase your honour. Oh, you're a foreigner;--it's
+the way the labourers do keep the account of the day's work with the
+overseer, the bailiff; a notch for every day the bailiff makes on his
+stick, and the labourer the like on his stick, to tally; and when we
+come to make up the account, it's by the notches we go. And there's
+been a mistake, and is a dispute here between our boy and the
+overseer: and she was counting the boy's tally, that's in bed, tired,
+for in truth he's overworked."
+
+"Would you want any thing more from me, mother?" said the girl, rising
+and turning her head away.
+
+"No, child; get away, for your heart's full."
+
+She went instantly.
+
+"Is the boy her brother?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"No; he's her bachelor," said the old woman, lowering her voice.
+
+"Her bachelor?"
+
+"That is, her sweetheart: for she is not my daughter, though you heard
+her call me mother. The boy's my son; but I am _afeard_ they must give
+it up; for they're too poor, and the times is hard, and the agent's
+harder than the times: there's two of them, the under and the upper;
+and they grind the substance of one between them, and then blow one
+away like chaff; but we'll not be talking of that, to spoil your
+honour's night's rest. The room's ready, and here's the rushlight."
+
+She showed him into a very small but neat room.
+
+"What a comfortable-looking bed!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Ah, these red check curtains," said she, letting them down; "these
+have lasted well: they were give me by a good friend, now far away,
+over the seas--my Lady Clonbrony; and made by the prettiest hands ever
+you see, her niece's, Miss Grace Nugent's, and she a little child that
+time; sweet love! all gone!"
+
+The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colambre did what
+he could to appear indifferent. She set down the candle, and left the
+room; Lord Colambre went to bed, but he lay awake,
+
+  "Revolving sweet and bitter thoughts"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+The kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, every thing prepared for
+her guest by the hospitable hostess, who thinking the gentleman would
+take tea to his breakfast, had sent off a _gossoon_ by the _first
+light_ to Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a _quarter of sugar_, and
+a loaf of white bread; and there was on the little table good cream,
+milk, butter, eggs--all the promise of an excellent breakfast. It was
+a _fresh_ morning, and there was a pleasant fire on the hearth, neatly
+swept up. The old woman was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a
+little skreen of whitewashed wall, built out into the room, for the
+purpose of keeping those who sat at the fire from the _blast of the
+door_. There was a loop-hole in this wall, to let the light in, just
+at the height of a person's head, who was sitting near the chimney.
+The rays of the morning sun now came through it, shining across the
+face of the old woman, as she sat knitting: Lord Colambre thought
+he had seldom seen a more agreeable countenance, intelligent eyes,
+benevolent smile, a natural expression of cheerfulness, subdued by age
+and misfortune.
+
+"A good morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you got the night
+well?--A fine day for us this holyday morning; my Grace is gone to
+early prayers, so your honour will be content with an old woman to
+make your tea. Oh, let me put in plenty of tea, for it will never be
+good; and if your honour takes stirabout, an old hand will engage to
+make that to your liking, any way; for by great happiness, we have
+what will just answer for you of the nicest meal the miller made my
+Grace a compliment of, last time she went to the mill."
+
+Lord Colambre observed, that this miller had good taste; and his
+lordship paid some compliment to Grace's beauty, which the old woman
+received with a smile, but turned off the conversation.
+
+"Then," said she, looking out of the window, "is not that there a nice
+little garden the boy dug for her and me, at his breakfast and dinner
+hours? Ah! he's a good boy, and good warrant to work; and the good son
+_desarves_ the good wife, and it's he that will make the good husband;
+and with my good-will he, and no other, shall get her, and with her
+good-will the same; and I bid 'em keep up their heart, and hope the
+best, for there's no use in fearing the worst till it comes."
+
+Lord Colambre wished very much to know the worst. "If you would not
+think a stranger impertinent for asking," said he, "and if it would
+not be painful to you to explain."
+
+"Oh, impertinent, your honour! it's very kind--and, sure, none's a
+stranger to one's heart, that feels for one. And for myself, I can
+talk of my troubles without thinking of them. So, I'll tell you
+all--if the worst comes to the worst--all that is, is, that we must
+quit, and give up this little snug place, and house, and farm, and
+all, to the agent--which would be hard on us, and me a widow, when my
+husband did all that is done to the land; and if your honour was a
+judge, you could see, if you stepped out, there has been a deal done,
+and built the house, and all--but it plased Heaven to take him. Well,
+he was too good for this world, and I'm satisfied--I'm not saying
+a word again' that--I trust we shall meet in heaven, and be happy,
+surely. And, meantime, here's my boy, that will make me as happy as
+ever widow was on earth--if the agent will let him. And I can't think
+the agent, though they that know him best call him Old Nick, would be
+so wicked to take from us that which he never gave us. The good lord
+himself granted us the _lase_; the life's dropped, and the years is
+out; but we had a promise of renewal in writing from the landlord. God
+bless him! if he was not away, he'd be a good gentleman, and we'd be
+happy and safe."
+
+"But if you have a promise in writing of a renewal, surely you are
+safe, whether your landlord is absent or present."
+
+"Ah, no! that makes a great _differ_, when there's no eye or hand over
+the agent. I would not wish to speak or think ill of him or any man;
+but was he an angel, he could not know to do the tenantry justice, the
+way he is living always in Dublin, and coming down to the country only
+the receiving days, to make a sweep among us, and gather up the rents
+in a hurry, and he in such haste back to town--can just stay to count
+over our money, and give the receipts. Happy for us if we get that
+same!--but can't expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind
+our improvements, any more than listen to our complaints! Oh, there's
+great excuse for the gentleman, if that was any comfort for us," added
+she, smiling.
+
+"But, if he does not live amongst you himself, has not he some under
+agent, who lives in the country?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"He has so."
+
+"And he should know your concerns: does he mind them?"
+
+"He should know--he should know better; but as to minding our
+concerns, your honour knows," continued she, smiling again, "every one
+in this world must mind their own concerns: and it would be a good
+world, if it was even so. There's a great deal in all things, that
+don't appear at first sight. Mr. Dennis wanted Grace for a wife for
+his bailiff, but she would not have him; and Mr. Dennis was very sweet
+to her himself--but Grace is rather high with him as proper, and he
+has a grudge _again'_ us ever since. Yet, indeed, there," added she,
+after another pause, "as you say, I think we are safe; for we have
+that memorandum in writing, with a pencil, given under his own hand,
+on the back of the _lase_ to me, by the same token when my good lord
+had his foot on the step of the coach, going away; and I'll never
+forget the smile of her that got that good turn done for me, Miss
+Grace. And just when she was going to England and London, and, young
+as she was, to have the thought to stop and turn to the likes of me!
+Oh, then, if you could see her, and know her, as I did! _That_ was the
+comforting angel upon earth--look, and voice, and heart, and all! Oh,
+that she was here present, this minute!--But did you scald yourself?"
+said the widow to Lord Colambre. "Sure you must have scalded yourself;
+for you poured the kettle straight over your hand, and it boiling!--O
+_deear_; to think of so young a gentleman's hand shaking so like my
+own."
+
+Luckily, to prevent her pursuing her observations from the hand to the
+face, which might have betrayed more than Lord Colambre wished she
+should know, her own Grace came in at this instant--"There it's for
+you, safe, mother dear--the _lase_!" said Grace, throwing a packet
+into her lap. The old woman lifted up her hands to heaven, with the
+lease between them--"Thanks be to Heaven!" Grace passed on, and
+sunk down on the first seat she could reach. Her face flushed, and,
+looking much fatigued, she loosened the strings of her bonnet and
+cloak--"Then, I'm tired;" but, recollecting herself, she rose, and
+curtsied to the gentleman.
+
+"What tired ye, dear?"
+
+"Why, after prayers, we had to go--for the agent was not at prayers,
+nor at home for us, when we called--we had to go all the way up to the
+castle; and there, by great good luck, we found Mr. Nick Garraghty
+himself, come from Dublin, and the _lase_ in his hands; and he sealed
+it up that way, and handed it to me very civil. I never saw him so
+good--though he offered me a glass of spirits, which was not manners
+to a decent young woman, in a morning--as Brian noticed after. Brian
+would not take any either, nor never does. We met Mr. Dennis and the
+driver coming home; and he says, the rent must be paid to-morrow, or,
+instead of renewing, he'll seize, and sell all. Mother dear, I would
+have dropped with the walk, but for Brian's arm."
+
+"It's a wonder, dear, what makes you so weak, that used to be so
+strong."
+
+"But if we can sell the cow for any thing at all to Mr. Dennis, since
+his eye is set upon her, better let him have her mother, dear; and
+that and my yarn, which Mrs. Garraghty says she'll allow me for, will
+make up the rent--and Brian need not talk of America. But it must be
+in golden guineas, the agent will take the rent no other way; and you
+won't get a guinea for less than five shillings. Well, even so, it's
+easy selling my new gown to one that covets it, and that will give me
+in exchange the price of the gold; or, suppose that would not do, add
+this cloak--it's handsome, and I know a friend would be glad to take
+it, and I'd part it as ready as look at it--Any thing at all, sure,
+rather than that he should be forced to talk of emigrating: or, oh,
+worse again, listing for the bounty--to save us from the cant or the
+jail, by going to the hospital, or his grave, maybe--oh, mother!"
+
+"Oh, child! This is what makes you weak, fretting. Don't be that way.
+Sure here's the _lase_, and that's good comfort; and the soldiers will
+be gone out of Clonbrony to-morrow, and then that's off your mind.
+And as to America, it's only talk--I won't let him, he's dutiful; and
+would sooner sell my dresser, and down to my bed, dear, than see you
+sell any thing of yours, love. Promise me you won't. Why didn't Brian
+come home all the way with you, Grace?"
+
+"He would have seen me home," said Grace, "only that he went up a
+piece of the mountain for some stones or ore for the gentleman,--for
+he had the manners to think of him this morning, though, shame for me,
+I had not, when I come in, or I would not have told you all this, and
+he by. See, there _he_ is, mother."
+
+Brian came in very hot, out of breath, with his hat full of stones.
+"Good morrow to your honour. I was in bed last night; and sorry they
+did not call me up to be of _sarvice_. Larry was telling us, this
+morning, your honour's from Wales, and looking for mines in Ireland,
+and I heard talk that there was one on our mountain--may be, you'd be
+_curous_ to see, and so I brought the best I could, but I'm no judge."
+
+"Nor I, neither," thought Lord Colambre; but he thanked the young man,
+and determined to avail himself of Larry's misconception of false
+report; examined the stones very gravely, and said, "This promises
+well. Lapis caliminaris, schist, plum-pudding stone, rhomboidal,
+crystal, blend, garrawachy," and all the strange names he could think
+of, jumbling them together at a venture.
+
+"The _lase_!" cried the young man, with joy sparkling in his eyes, as
+his mother held up the packet. "Lend me the papers."
+
+He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover--"Ay, I know it's the
+_lase_ sure enough. But stay, where's the memorandum?"
+
+"It's there, sure," said his mother, "where my lord's pencil writ it.
+I don't read. Grace, dear, look."
+
+The young man put it into her hands, and stood without power to utter
+a syllable.
+
+"It's not here! It's gone!--no sign of it."
+
+"Gracious Heaven! that can't be," said the old woman, putting on her
+spectacles; "let me see,'--I remember the very spot."
+
+"It's taken away--it's rubbed clean out!--Oh, wasn't I fool?--But who
+could have thought he'd be the villain!"
+
+The young man seemed neither to see nor hear, but to be absorbed
+in thought. Grace, with her eyes fixed upon him, grew as pale as
+death.--"He'll go--he's gone."
+
+"She's gone!" cried Lord Colambre, and the mother just caught her in
+her arms as she was falling.
+
+"The chaise is ready, plase your honour," said Larry, coming into the
+room. "Death! what's here?"
+
+"Air!--she's coming to," said the young man--"Take a drop of water, my
+own Grace."
+
+"Young man, I promise you," cried Lord Colambre, (speaking in the tone
+of a master,) striking the young man's shoulder, who was kneeling at
+Grace's feet, but recollecting and restraining himself, he added, in
+a quiet voice--"I promise you I shall never forget the hospitality I
+have received in this house, and I am sorry to be obliged to leave you
+in distress."
+
+These words uttered with difficulty, he hurried out of the house, and
+into his carriage. "Go back to them," said he to the postilion: "go
+back and ask whether, if I should stay a day or two longer in this
+country, they would let me return at night and lodge with them. And
+here, man, stay, take this," putting money into his hands, "for the
+good woman of the house."
+
+The postilion went in, and returned.
+
+"She won't at all--I knew she would not."
+
+"Well, I am obliged to her for the night's lodging she did give me; I
+have no right to expect more."
+
+"What is it?--Sure she bid me tell you,--'and welcome to the lodging;
+for,' said she, 'he's a kind-hearted gentleman;' but here's the money;
+it's that I was telling you she would not have at all."
+
+"Thank you. Now, my good friend, Larry, drive me to Clonbrony, and do
+not say another word, for I'm not in a talking humour."
+
+Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony. Clonbrony was now a
+melancholy scene. The houses, which had been built in a better style
+of architecture than usual, were in a ruinous condition; the dashing
+was off the walls, no glass in the windows, and many of the roofs
+without slates. For the stillness of the place Lord Colambre in some
+measure accounted, by considering that it was holiday; therefore, of
+course, all the shops were shut up, and all the people at prayers. He
+alighted at the inn, which completely answered Larry's representation
+of it. Nobody to be seen but a drunken waiter, who, as well as he
+could articulate, informed Lord Colambre, that "his mistress was in
+her bed since Thursday-was-a-week; the hostler at the _wash-woman's_,
+and the cook at second prayers."
+
+Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church gate was locked and
+broken--a calf, two pigs, and an ass, in the church-yard; and several
+boys (with more of skin apparent than clothes) were playing at pitch
+and toss upon a tombstone, which, upon nearer observation, he saw was
+the monument of his own family. One of the boys came to the gate,
+and told Lord Colambre, "There was no use in going into the church,
+because there was no church there; nor had not been this twelvemonth;
+beca-ase there was no curate: and the parson was away always, since
+the lord was at home--that is, was not at home--he nor the family."
+
+Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting a considerable
+time, he gave up the point--he could not get any dinner--and in
+the evening he walked out again into the town. He found several
+public-houses, however, open, which were full of people; all of them
+as busy and as noisy as possible. He observed that the interest was
+created by an advertisement of several farms on the Clonbrony estate,
+to be set by Nicholas Garraghty, Esq. He could not help smiling at
+his being witness _incognito_ to various schemes for outwitting the
+agents, and defrauding the landlord; but, on a sudden, the scene was
+changed; a boy ran in, crying out, that "St. Dennis was riding down
+the hill into the town; and, if you would not have the licence," said
+the boy, "take care of yourself, Brannagan." "_If you wouldn't have
+the licence_," Lord Colambre perceived, by what followed, meant, "_If
+you have not a licence_." Brannagan immediately snatched an untasted
+glass of whiskey from a customer's lips (who cried, murder!), gave
+it and the bottle he held in his hand to his wife, who swallowed the
+spirits, and ran away with the bottle and glass into some back hole;
+whilst the bystanders laughed, saying, "Well thought of, Peggy!"
+
+"Clear out all of you at the back door, for the love of Heaven, if
+you wouldn't be the ruin of me," said the man of the house, setting
+a ladder to a corner of the shop. "Phil, hoist me up the keg to the
+loft," added he, running up the ladder; "and one of _yees_ step up
+street, and give Rose McGivney notice, for she's selling, too."
+
+The keg was hoisted up; the ladder removed; the shop cleared of
+all the customers; the shutters shut; the door barred; the counter
+cleaned.
+
+"Lift your stones, sir, if you plase," said the wife, as she rubbed
+the counter, "and say nothing of what you _seen_ at all; but that
+you're a stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging, if you're
+questioned, or waiting to see Mr. Dennis. There's no smell of whiskey
+in it now, is there, sir?"
+
+Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this--he could
+only hope no one would perceive it.
+
+"Oh, and if he would, the smell of whiskey was nothing," as the wife
+affirmed, "for it was every where in nature, and no proof again' any
+one, good or bad."
+
+"Now, St. Dennis may come when he will, or Old Nick himself!" So she
+tied up a blue handkerchief over her head, and had the toothache "very
+bad."
+
+Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.
+
+"He's safe in bed," said the wife.
+
+"In bed! When?"
+
+"Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the handkerchief over
+my face. Within the room, look, he is snug."
+
+And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on the chest.
+
+A knock, a loud knock at the door.
+
+"St. Dennis himself!--Stay, till I unbar the door," said the woman;
+and, making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning and saying.
+"We was all done up for the night, _plase_ your honour, and myself
+with the toothache, very bad--And the lodger, that's going to take an
+egg only, before he'd go into his bed. My man's in it, and asleep long
+ago."
+
+With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank disappointment,
+Mr. Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked into _the room_, saw the good
+man of the house asleep, heard him snore, and then, returning, asked
+Lord Colambre, "who he was, and what brought him there?"
+
+Our hero said, he was from England, and a traveller; and now, bolder
+grown as a geologist, he talked of his specimens, and his hopes of
+finding a mine in the neighbouring mountains; then adopting, as well
+as he could, the servile tone and abject manner, in which he found Mr.
+Dennis was to be addressed, "he hoped he might get encouragement from
+the gentlemen at the head of the estate."
+
+"To bore, is it?--Well, don't _bore_ me about it. I can't give you any
+answer now, my good friend; I am engaged."
+
+Out he strutted. "Stick to him up the town, if you have a mind to get
+your answer," whispered the woman. Lord Colambre followed, for he
+wished to see the end of this scene.
+
+"Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me, like my shadow,
+for?" said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly upon Lord Colambre.
+
+His lordship bowed low. "Waiting for my answer, sir, when you are at
+leisure. Or, may I call upon you to-morrow?"
+
+"You seem to be a civil kind of fellow; but, as to boring, I don't
+know--if you undertake it at your own expense. I dare say there may be
+minerals in the ground. Well, you may call at the castle to-morrow,
+and when my brother has done with the tenantry, I'll speak to him
+_for_ you, and we'll consult together, and see what we think. It's too
+late to-night. In Ireland, nobody speaks to a gentleman about business
+after dinner,--your servant, sir; any body can show you the way to the
+castle in the morning." And, pushing by his lordship, he called to a
+man on the other side of the street, who had obviously been waiting
+for him; he went under a gateway with this man, and gave him a bag of
+guineas. He then called for his horse, which was brought to him by a
+man whom Lord Colambre had heard declaring that he would bid for the
+land that was advertised; whilst another, who had the same intentions,
+most respectfully held his stirrup, whilst he mounted without thanking
+either of these men. St. Dennis clapped spurs to his steed, and rode
+away. No thanks, indeed, were deserved; for the moment he was out of
+hearing, both cursed him after the manner of their country.
+
+"Bad luck go with you, then!--And may you break your neck before you
+get home, if it was not for the _lase_ I'm to get, and that's paid
+for."
+
+Lord Colambre followed the crowd into a public-house, where a new
+scene presented itself to his view.
+
+The man to whom St. Dennis gave the bag of gold was now selling this
+very gold to the tenants, who were to pay their rent next day at the
+castle.
+
+The agent would take nothing but gold. The same guineas were bought
+and sold several times over, to the great profit of the agent and loss
+of the poor tenants; for as the rents were paid, the guineas were
+resold to another set: and the remittances made through bankers to the
+landlord, who, as the poor man that explained the transaction to Lord
+Colambre expressed it, "gained nothing by the business, bad or good,
+but the ill-will of the tenantry."
+
+The higgling for the price of the gold; the time lost in disputing
+about the goodness of the notes, among some poor tenants, who could
+not read or write, and who were at the mercy of the man with the bag
+in his hand; the vexation, the useless harassing of all who were
+obliged to submit ultimately--Lord Colambre saw: and all this time he
+endured the smell of tobacco and whiskey, and the sound of various
+brogues, the din of men wrangling, brawling, threatening, whining,
+drawling, cajoling, cursing, and every variety of wretchedness.
+
+"And is this my father's town of Clonbrony?" thought Lord Colambre.
+"Is this Ireland? No, it is not Ireland. Let me not, like most of
+those who forsake their native country, traduce it. Let me not, even
+to my own mind, commit the injustice of taking a speck for the whole.
+What I have just seen is the picture only of that to which an Irish
+estate and Irish tenantry may be degraded in the absence of those
+whose duty and interest it is to reside in Ireland, to uphold justice
+by example and authority; but who, neglecting this duty, commit power
+to bad hands and bad hearts--abandon their tenantry to oppression, and
+their property to ruin."
+
+It was now fine moonlight, and Lord Colambre met with a boy, who said
+he could show him a short way across the fields to the widow O'Neil's
+cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+All were asleep at the cottage, when Lord Colambre arrived, except
+the widow, who was sitting up, waiting for him; and who had brought
+her dog into the house, that he might not fly at him, or bark at his
+return. She had a roast chicken ready for her guest, and it was--but
+this she never told him--the only chicken she had left; all the others
+had been sent with the _duty fowl_, as a present to the under-agent's
+lady. While he was eating his supper, which he ate with the better
+appetite, as he had had no dinner, the good woman took down from the
+shelf a pocket-book, which she gave him: "Is not that your book?" said
+she. "My boy Brian found it after you in the potatoe furrow, where you
+dropped it."
+
+"Thank you," said Lord Colambre; "there are bank notes in it, which I
+could not afford to lose."
+
+"Are there?" said she: "he never opened it--nor I."
+
+Then, in answer to his inquiries about Grace and the young man, the
+widow answered, "They are all in heart now, I thank ye kindly, sir,
+for asking; they'll sleep easy to-night, any way, and I'm in great
+spirits for them and myself--for all's smooth now. After we parted
+you, Brian saw Mr. Dennis himself about the _lase_ and memorandum,
+which he never denied, but knew nothing about. 'But, be that as it
+may,' says he, 'you're improving tenants, and I'm confident my brother
+will consider ye; so what you'll do is, you'll give up the possession
+to-morrow to myself, that will call for it by cock-crow, just for
+form's sake; and then go up to the castle with the new _lase_ ready
+drawn, in your hand, and if all's paid off clear of the rent, and all
+that's due, you'll get the new _lase_ signed: I'll promise you this
+upon the word and honour of a gentleman.' And there's no going beyond
+that, you know, sir. So my boy came home as light as a feather, and as
+gay as a lark, to bring us the good news; only he was afraid we might
+not make up the rent, guineas and all; and because he could not get
+paid for the work he done, on account of the mistake in the overseer's
+tally, I sold the cow to a neighbour, dog-cheap; but needs must, as
+they say, when Old Nick _drives_," said the widow, smiling. "Well,
+still it was but paper we got for the cow; then that must be gold
+before the agent would take or touch it--so I was laying out to sell
+the dresser, and had taken the plates and cups, and little things
+off it, and my boy was lifting it out with Andy the carpenter,
+that was agreeing for it, when in comes Grace, all rosy and out of
+breath--it's a wonder I never minded her run out, nor ever missed her.
+'Mother,' says she, 'here's the gold for you; don't be stirring your
+dresser.'--'And where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I. But, I
+beg your pardon, sir; may be, I'm tiring you?"
+
+Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.
+
+"'Where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I. 'Gone,' says she. 'The
+cloak was too warm and heavy, and I don' doubt, mother, but it was
+that helped to make me faint this morning. And as to the gown, sure
+I've a very nice one here, that you spun for me yourself, mother; and
+that I prize above all the gowns ever came out of a loom; and that
+Brian said become me to his fancy above any gown ever he see me wear;
+and what could I wish for more?' Now I'd a mind to scold her for going
+to sell the gown unknown'st to me, but I don't know how it was, I
+couldn't scold her just then, so kissed her, and Brian the same, and
+that was what no man ever did before. And she had a mind to be angry
+with him, but could not, nor ought not, says I, 'for he's as good
+as your husband now, Grace; and no man can part yees now,' says I,
+putting their hands together. Well, I never saw her look so pretty;
+nor there was not a happier boy that minute on God's earth than my
+son, nor a happier mother than myself; and I thanked God, that had
+given them to me; and down they both fell on their knees for my
+blessing, little worth as it was; and my heart's blessing they had,
+and I laid my hands upon them. 'It's the priest you must get to do
+this for you to-morrow,' says I. And Brian just held up the ring, to
+show me all was ready on his part, but could not speak. 'Then there's
+no America between us any more!' said Grace, low to me, and her heart
+was on her lips; but the colour came and went, and I was _afeard_
+she'd have swooned again, but not for sorrow, so I carried her off.
+Well, if she was not my own--but she is not my own born, so I may
+say it--there never was a better girl, not a more kind-hearted, nor
+generous; never thinking any thing she could do, or give, too much
+for them she loved, and any thing at all would do for herself; the
+sweetest natured and tempered both, and always was, from this high;
+the bond that held all together, and joy of the house."
+
+"Just like her namesake," cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"Plase your honour!"
+
+"Is not it late?" said Lord Colambre, stretching himself and gaping;
+"I've walked a great way to-day."
+
+The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red check bed,
+and wished him a very good night; not without some slight sentiment
+of displeasure at his gaping thus at the panegyric on her darling
+Grace. Before she left the room, however, her short-lived resentment
+vanished, upon his saying, that he hoped, with her permission, to be
+present at the wedding of the young couple.
+
+Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his reverence
+when it would be convenient to marry him; and whilst he was gone,
+Mr. Dennis Garraghty came to the cottage, to receive the rent and
+possession. The rent was ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.
+
+"No occasion for a receipt; for a new _lase_ is a receipt in full for
+every thing."
+
+"Very well, sir," said the widow; "I know nothing of law. You know
+best--whatever you direct--for you are acting as a friend to us now.
+My son got the attorney to draw the pair of new _lases_ yesterday, and
+here they are ready, all to signing."
+
+Mr. Dennis said, his brother must settle that part of the business,
+and that they must carry them up to the castle; "but first give me the
+possession."
+
+Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to him,
+and a bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked out the fire, and
+said every living creature must go out. "It's only form of law," said
+he.
+
+"And must my lodger get up, and turn out, sir?" said she.
+
+"He must turn out, to be sure--not a living soul must he left in it,
+or it's no legal possession, properly. Who is your lodger?"
+
+On Lord Colambre's appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some surprise, and
+said, "I thought you were lodging at Brannagan's; are not you the man
+who spoke to me at his house about the gold mines?"
+
+"No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan's," said the widow.
+
+"Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about the gold mines at
+Brannagan's; but I did not like to lodge--"
+
+"Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must walk out of this
+lodging now, if you please, my good friend."
+
+So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders, repeating, as
+the widow turned back, and looked with some surprise and alarm, "only
+for form sake, only for form sake!" then locking the door, took the
+key, and put it into his pocket. The widow held out her hand for it:
+"The form's gone through now, sir; is not it? Be plased to let us in
+again."
+
+"When the new lease is signed, I'll give you possession again; but not
+till then--for that's the law. So make away with you to the castle;
+and mind," added he, winking slily, "mind you take sealing-money with
+you, and something to buy gloves."
+
+"Oh, where will I find all that?" said the widow.
+
+"I have it, mother; don't fret," said Grace. "I have it--the price
+of--what I can want[1]. So let us go off to the castle without delay.
+Brian will meet us on the road, you know."
+
+[Footnote 1: What I can do without.]
+
+They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accompanying them.
+Brian met them on the road. "Father Tom is ready, dear mother; bring
+her in, and he'll marry us. I'm not my own man till she's mine. Who
+knows what may happen?"
+
+"Who knows? that's true," said the widow.
+
+"Better go to the castle first," said Grace.
+
+"And keep the priest waiting! You can't use his reverence so," said
+Brian.
+
+So she let him lead her into the priest's house, and she did not make
+any of the awkward draggings back, or ridiculous scenes of grimace
+sometimes exhibited on these occasions; but blushing rosy red, yet
+with more self-possession than could have been expected from her timid
+nature, she gave her hand to the man she loved, and listened with
+attentive devotion to the holy ceremony.
+
+"Ah!" thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated the bride, "shall
+I ever be as happy as these poor people are at this moment?" He longed
+to make them some little present, but all he could venture at this
+moment was to pay the priest's dues.
+
+The priest positively refused to take any thing.
+
+"They are the best couple in my parish," said he; "and I'll take
+nothing, sir, from you, a stranger and my guest."
+
+"Now, come what will, I'm a match for it. No trouble can touch me,"
+said Brian.
+
+"Oh, don't be bragging," said the widow.
+
+"Whatever trouble God sends, he has given one now will help to bear
+it, and sure I may be thankful," said Grace.
+
+"Such good hearts must be happy,--shall be happy!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, you're very kind," said the widow, smiling; "and I wouldn't doubt
+you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you
+encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us."
+
+"I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!"
+cried Lord Colambre; "whether the agent gives me encouragement or
+not," added he.
+
+It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said
+herself, would not have been able for it, but for a _lift_ given to
+her by a friendly carman, whom she overtook on the road with an empty
+car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of
+meeting and being recognized by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to
+the question of "Who is at the castle?" replied, "Mrs. Raffarty will
+be in it afore night; but she's on the road still. There's none
+but Old Nick in it yet; and he's more of a _neger_ than ever; for
+think, that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his
+_shister's_ boxes and band-boxes down. If you're going to have any
+dealings with him, God grant ye a safe deliverance!"
+
+"Amen!" said the widow, and her son and daughter.
+
+Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of the castle
+and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old.
+Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy
+that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all
+about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the mossy
+gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and
+melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into
+bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the ground in lots to
+be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, where in his
+childhood our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest,
+was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for
+it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.--"And
+how it went, when sold!--but no matter," said Finnucan; "it's all
+alike.--It's the back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose."
+
+"And such a yard! but it's no matter," repeated Lord Colambre to
+himself; "it's all alike."
+
+In the kitchen, a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty's
+friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day
+was over.
+
+"Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after
+dinner," says one; "and the wine for the cook--sure there's venison,"
+cries another.--"Venison!--That's the way my lord's deer goes," says
+a third, laughing.--"Ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here
+to eat 'em."--"Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you
+_plase_," said the agent's cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre's
+face. "There's the way to the office, if you've money to pay, up the
+back stairs."
+
+"No; up the grand staircase they must,--Mr. Garraghty ordered," said
+the footman; "because the office is damp for him, and it's not there
+he'll see any body to-day; but in my lady's dressing-room."
+
+So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent
+apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp.
+
+"Then, isn't it a pity to see them? There's my lady, and all
+spoiling," said the widow.
+
+Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent--"Shamefully
+damaged!" cried he.
+
+"Pass on, or let me pass, if you _plase_," said one of the tenants;
+"and don't be stopping the door-way."
+
+"I have business more nor you with the agent," said the surveyor;
+"where is he?"
+
+"In the _presence-chamber_," replied another: "Where should the
+viceroy be but in the _presence-chamber_?"
+
+There was a full levee, and fine smell of great coats.--"Oh! would you
+put your hats on the silk cushions?" said the widow to some men in the
+doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.
+
+"Why not? where else?"
+
+"If the lady was in it, you wouldn't," said she, sighing.
+
+"No, to be sure, I wouldn't: great news! would I make no _differ_ in
+the presence of Old Nick and my lady?" said he, in Irish. "Have I no
+sense or manners, good woman, think ye?" added he, as he shook the ink
+out of the pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished signing his
+name to a paper on his knee.
+
+"You may wait long before you get to the speech of the great man,"
+said another, who was working his way through numbers.
+
+They continued pushing forward, till they came within sight of Mr.
+Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse countenance, or a
+more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord
+Colambre had never beheld.
+
+We forbear all further detail of this levee. "It's all the same!" as
+Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery
+or oppression to which he was witness; and having completely made
+up his mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the back-ground,
+waiting till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for
+he was now interested only to see how she would be treated. The room
+gradually thinned I Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the
+table, to help his brother to count the heaps of gold.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting
+me here," said the widow O'Neil, walking up to him;
+
+"I'm sure you'll speak a good word for me: here's the _lases_--who
+will I offer this to?" said she, holding the _glove-money_ and
+_sealing-money_, "for I'm strange and ashamed."
+
+"Oh, don't be ashamed--there's no strangeness in bringing money or
+taking it," said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. "Is
+this the proper compliment?"
+
+"I hope so, sir: your honour knows best."
+
+"Very well," slipping it into his private purse. "Now what's your
+business?"
+
+"The _lases_ to sign--the rent's all paid up."
+
+"Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?"
+
+"It was, _plase_ your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little
+place in his pocket."
+
+"Then I hope he'll keep it there. _Your_ little place--it's no longer
+yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a
+fool as to renew to you at this rent."
+
+"Mr. Dennis named the rent. But any thing your honour _plases_--any
+thing at all that we can pay."
+
+"Oh, it's out of the question--put it out of your head. No rent you
+can offer would do, for I have promised it to the surveyor."
+
+"Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a
+renewal, on the back of the _ould lase_."
+
+"Produce it."
+
+"Here's the _lase_, but the promise is rubbed out."
+
+"Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll
+listen to that in a court of justice, do you think?"
+
+"I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and
+Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by
+when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it."
+
+"Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?--What has she to do with
+the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray?"
+
+"Management!--no, sir."
+
+"Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?"
+
+"Oh, God forbid!--how could that be?"
+
+"Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what
+my lord does not choose."
+
+"Well, then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at all, if it
+was ever so with me. But be _plased_, sir, to write over to my lord,
+and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it."
+
+"Write to my lord about such a trifle--trouble him about such
+nonsense!"
+
+"I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and believe
+me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor, if in my
+power, for the whole estate, nor the whole world: for there's an eye
+above."
+
+"Cant! nonsense!--Take those leases off the table; I never will sign
+them. Walk off, ye canting hag; it's an imposition--I will never sign
+them."
+
+"You _will_, then, sir," cried Brian, growing red with indignation;
+"for the law shall make you, so it shall; and you'd as good have been
+civil to my mother, whatever you did--for I'll stand by her while
+I've life; and I know she has right, and shall have law. I saw the
+memorandum written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever
+became of it after; and will swear to it too."
+
+"Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will avail in your own
+case in a court of justice," continued Old Nick.
+
+"And against a gentleman of my brother's established character and
+property," said St. Dennis. "What's your mother's character against a
+gentleman's like his?"
+
+"Character! take care how you go to that, any way, sir," cried Brian.
+
+Grace put her hand before his mouth, to stop him.
+
+"Grace, dear, I must speak, if I die for it; sure it's for my mother,"
+said the young man, struggling forward, while his mother held him
+back; "I must speak."
+
+"Oh, he's ruined, I see it," said Grace, putting her hand before her
+eyes, "and he won't mind me."
+
+"Go on, let him go on, pray, young woman," said Mr. Garraghty, pale
+with anger and fear, his lips quivering; "I shall be happy to take
+down his words."
+
+"Write them; and may all the world read it, and welcome!"
+
+His mother and wife stopped his mouth by force.
+
+"Write you, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty, giving the pen to his
+brother; for his hand shook so he could not form a letter. "Write the
+very words, and at the top" (pointing) "after warning, _with malice
+prepense_."
+
+"Write, then--mother, Grace--let me," cried Brian, speaking in a
+smothered voice, as their hands were over his mouth. "Write then,
+that, if you'd either of you a character like my mother, you might
+defy the world; and your word would be as good as your oath."
+
+"_Oath!_ mind that, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty.
+
+"Oh, sir! sir! won't you stop him?" cried Grace, turning suddenly to
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, dear, dear, if you haven't lost your feeling for us," cried the
+widow.
+
+"Let him speak," said Lord Colambre, in a tone of authority; "let the
+voice of truth be heard."
+
+"_Truth!_" cried St. Dennis, and dropped the pen.
+
+"And who the devil are you, sir?" said Old Nick.
+
+"Lord Colambre, I protest!" exclaimed a female voice; and Mrs.
+Raffarty at this instant appeared at the open door.
+
+"Lord Colambre!" repeated all present, in different tones.
+
+"My lord, I beg pardon," continued Mrs. Raffarty, advancing as if
+her legs were tied; "had I known you was down here, I would not have
+presumed. I'd better retire; for I see you're busy."
+
+"You'd best; for you're mad, sister," said St. Dennis, pushing her
+back; "and we _are_ busy; go to your room, and keep quiet, if you
+can."
+
+"First, madam," said Lord Colambre, going between her and the door,
+"let me beg that you will consider yourself as at home in this house,
+whilst any circumstances make it desirable to you. The hospitality you
+showed me you cannot think I now forget."
+
+"Oh, my lord, you're too good--how few--too kind--kinder than my own;"
+and, bursting into tears, she escaped out of the room.
+
+Lord Colambre returned to the party round the table, who were in
+various attitudes of astonishment, and with faces of fear, horror,
+hope, joy, doubt.
+
+"Distress," continued his lordship, "however incurred, if not by vice,
+will always find a refuge in this house. I speak in my father's name,
+for I know I speak his sentiments. But never more shall vice," said
+he, darting such a look at the brother agents as they felt to the
+back-bone--"never more shall vice, shall fraud enter here."
+
+He paused, and there was a momentary silence.
+
+"There spoke the true thing! and the _rael_ gentleman; my own heart's
+satisfied," said Brian, folding his arms, and standing erect.
+
+"Then so is mine," said Grace, taking breath, with a deep sigh.
+
+The widow advancing, put on her spectacles, and, looking up close at
+Lord Colambre's face--"Then it's a wonder I didn't know the family
+likeness."
+
+Lord Colambre, now recollecting that he still wore the old great coat,
+threw it off.
+
+"Oh, bless him! Then now I'd know him any where. I'm willing to die
+now, for we'll all be happy."
+
+"My lord, since it is so--my lord, may I ask you," said Mr. Garraghty,
+now sufficiently recovered to be able to articulate, but scarcely to
+express his ideas; "if what your lordship hinted just now--"
+
+"I hinted nothing, sir; I spoke plainly."
+
+"I beg pardon, my lord," said Old Nick; "respecting vice, was levelled
+at me; because, if it was, my lord," trying to stand erect; "let me
+tell your lordship, if I could think it was--"
+
+"If it did not hit you, sir, no matter at whom it was levelled."
+
+"And let me ask, my lord, if I may presume, whether, in what you
+suggested by the word fraud, your lordship had any particular
+meaning?" said St. Dennis.
+
+"A very particular meaning, sir--feel in your pocket for the key of
+this widow's house, and deliver it to her."
+
+"Oh, if that's all the meaning, with all the pleasure in life. I never
+meant to detain it longer than till the leases were signed," said St.
+Dennis.
+
+"And I'm ready to sign the leases this minute," said the brother.
+
+"Do it, sir, this minute; I have read them; I will be answerable to my
+father."
+
+"Oh, as to that, my lord, I have power to sign for your father."
+
+He signed the leases; they were duly witnessed by Lord Colambre.
+
+"I deliver this as my act and deed," said Mr. Garraghty:
+
+"My lord," continued he, "you see, at the first word from you; and had
+I known sooner the interest you took in the family, there would have
+been no difficulty; for I'd make it a principle to oblige you, my
+lord."
+
+"Oblige me!" said Lord Colambre, with disdain.
+
+"But when gentlemen and noblemen travel _incognito_, and lodge in
+cabins," added St. Dennis, with a satanic smile, glancing his eye on
+Grace, "they have good reasons, no doubt."
+
+"Do not judge my heart by your own, sir," said Lord Colambre, coolly;
+"no two things in nature can, I trust, be more different. My purpose
+in travelling _incognito_ has been fully answered: I was determined to
+see and judge how my father's estates were managed; and I have seen,
+compared, and judged. I have seen the difference between the Clonbrony
+and the Colambre property; and I shall represent what I have seen to
+my father."
+
+"As to that, my lord, if we are to come to that--but I trust your
+lordship will suffer me to explain these matters. Go about your
+business, my good friends; you have all you want; and, my lord, after
+dinner, when you are cool, I hope I shall be able to make you sensible
+that things have been represented to your lordship in a mistaken
+light; and, I flatter myself, I shall convince you, I have not only
+always acted the part of a friend to the family, but am particularly
+willing to conciliate your lordship's good-will," said he, sweeping
+the rouleaus of gold into a bag; "any accommodation in my power, at
+any time."
+
+"I want no accommodation, sir--were I starving, I would accept of none
+from you. Never can you conciliate my good-will; for you can never
+deserve it."
+
+"If that be the case, my lord, I must conduct myself accordingly: but
+it's fair to warn you, before you make any representation to my Lord
+Clonbrony, that, if he should think of changing his agent, there are
+accounts to be settled between us--that may be a consideration."
+
+"No, sir; no consideration--my father never shall be the slave of such
+a paltry consideration."
+
+"Oh, very well, my lord; you know best. If you choose to make an
+assumpsit, I'm sure I shall not object to the security. Your lordship
+will be of age soon, I know--I'm sure I'm satisfied--but," added he,
+with a malicious smile, "I rather apprehend you don't know what you
+undertake: I only premise that the balance of accounts between us is
+not what can properly be called a paltry consideration."
+
+"On that point, perhaps, sir, you and I may differ."
+
+"Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if it suits
+your convenience."
+
+"Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles."
+
+"Dennis! the letters to the post--When do you go to England, my lord?"
+
+"Immediately, sir," said Lord Colambre: his lordship saw new leases
+from his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty, lying on the table, unsigned.
+
+"Immediately!" repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis, with an air of
+dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the window, and whispered
+something to his brother, who instantly left the room.
+
+Lord Colambre saw the postchaise at the door, which had brought Mrs.
+Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing beside it: his lordship
+instantly threw up the sash, and holding between his finger and thumb
+a six shilling piece, cried, "Larry, my friend, let me have the
+horses."
+
+"You shall have 'em--your honour," said Larry.
+
+Mr. Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magisterial tone.
+"Larry, my brother must have the horses."
+
+"He can't, _plase_ your honour--they're engaged."
+
+"Half a crown!--a crown!--half a guinea!" said Mr. Dennis Garraghty,
+raising his voice, as he increased his proffered bribe. To each offer
+Larry replied, "You can't, _plase_ your honour, they're engaged;" and,
+looking up to the window at Lord Colambre, he said, "As soon as they
+have ate their oats, you shall have 'em."
+
+No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consternation. Lord
+Colambre ordered that Larry should have some dinner, and whilst the
+postilion was eating, and the horses finished their oats, his lordship
+wrote the following letter to his father, which, to prevent all
+possibility of accident, he determined to put, with his own hand, into
+the post-office at Clonbrony, as he passed through the town.
+
+    "MY DEAR FATHER,
+
+    "I hope to be with you in a few days. Lest any thing should detain
+    me on the road, I write this, to make an earnest request, that you
+    will not sign any papers, or transact any farther business with
+    Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis Garraghty before you see
+
+    "Your affectionate son,
+
+    "COLAMBRE."
+
+The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready, and Lord Colambre,
+having first eaten a slice of his own venison, ran down to the
+carriage, followed by the thanks and blessings of the widow, her
+son, and daughter, who could hardly make their way after him to the
+chaise-door, so great was the crowd which had gathered on the report
+of his lordship's arrival.
+
+"Long life to your honour! Long life to your lordship!" echoed on all
+sides. "Just come, and going, are you?"
+
+"Good bye to you all, good people!"
+
+"Then _good bye_ is the only word we wouldn't wish to hear from your
+honour."
+
+"For the sake both of landlord and tenant, I must leave you now, my
+good friends; but I hope to return to you at some future time."
+
+"God bless you! and speed ye! and a safe journey to your honour!--and
+a happy return to us, and soon!" cried a multitude of voices.
+
+Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door, and beckoned to the widow
+O'Neil, before whom others had pressed. An opening was made for her
+instantly.
+
+"There! that was the very way his father stood, with his foot on the
+step. And Miss Nugent was _in it_."
+
+Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say,--with some difficulty
+recollected. "This pocket-book," said he, "which your son restored to
+me--I intend it for your daughter--don't keep it as your son kept it
+for me, without opening it. Let what is withinside," added he, as he
+got into the carriage, "replace the cloak and gown, and let all things
+necessary for a bride be bought; 'for the bride that has all things to
+borrow has surely mickle to do.' Shut the door, and drive on."
+
+"Blessings be _wid_ you," cried the widow, "and God give you grace!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+Larry drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good rate, till he
+got out of the great gate, and beyond the sight of the crowd: then,
+pulling up, he turned to Lord Colambre--"_Plase_ your honour, I did
+not know nor guess ye was my lord, when I let you have the horses: did
+not know who you was from Adam, I'll take my affidavit."
+
+"There's no occasion," said Lord Colambre; "I hope you don't repent
+letting me have the horses, now you do know who I am?"
+
+"Oh! not at all, sure: I'm as glad as the best horse ever I crossed,
+that your honour is my lord--but I was only telling your honour, that
+you might not be looking upon me as a _timesarver_."
+
+"I do not look upon you as a _timesarver_, Larry; but keep on, that
+time may serve me."
+
+In two words, he explained his cause of haste; and no sooner explained
+than understood. Larry thundered away through the town of Clonbrony,
+bending over his horses, plying the whip, and lending his very soul at
+every lash. With much difficulty, Lord Colambre stopped him at the end
+of the town, at the post-office. The post was gone out--gone a quarter
+of an hour.
+
+"May be, we'll overtake the mail," said Larry: and, as he spoke,
+he slid down from his seat, and darted into the public-house,
+re-appearing, in a few moments, with a _copper_ of ale and a horn in
+his hand: he and another man held open the horses' mouths, and poured
+the ale through the horn down their throats.
+
+"Now, they'll go with spirit!"
+
+And, with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made them go "for
+life or death," as he said: but in vain! At the next stage, at his own
+inn-door, Larry roared for fresh horses till he, got them, harnessed
+them with his own hands, holding the six shilling piece, which Lord
+Colambre had given him, in his mouth, all the while: for he could not
+take time to put it into his pocket.
+
+"Speed ye! I wish I was driving you all the way, then," said he.
+The other postilion was not yet ready. "Then your honour sees,"
+said he, putting his head into the carriage, "_consarning_ of them
+Garraghties--Old Nick and St. Dennis--the best part, that is, the
+worst part, of what I told you, proved true; and I'm glad of it, that
+is, I'm sorry for it--but glad your honour knows it in time. So Heaven
+prosper you! And may all the saints (_barring_ St. Dennis) have charge
+of you, and all belonging to you, till we see you here again!--And
+when will it be?"
+
+"I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I will do my best
+to send your landlord to you soon. In the mean time, my good fellow,
+keep away from the sign of the Horseshoe--a man of your sense to drink
+and make an idiot and a brute of yourself!"
+
+"True!--And it was only when I had lost hope I took to it--but now!
+Bring me the book one of _yees_, out of the landlady's parlour. By
+the virtue of this book, and by all the books that ever was shut and
+opened, I won't touch a drop of spirits, good or bad, till I see your
+honour again, or some of the family, this time twelvemonth--that long
+I live on hope,--but mind, if you disappoint me, I don't swear but
+I'll take to the whiskey for comfort, all the rest of my days. But
+don't be staying here, wasting your time, advising me. Bartley! take
+the reins, can't ye?" cried he, giving them to the fresh postilion;
+"and keep on, for your life, for there's thousands of pounds depending
+on the race--so off, off, Bartley, with speed of light!"
+
+Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the roads, that,
+notwithstanding the rate at which our hero travelled, he arrived
+safely in Dublin, just in time to put his letter into the post-office,
+and to sail in that night's packet. The wind was fair when Lord
+Colambre went on board, but before they got out of the Bay it changed;
+they made no way all night: in the course of the next day, they had
+the mortification to see another packet from Dublin sail past them,
+and when they landed at Holyhead, were told the packet, which had left
+Ireland twelve hours after them, had been in an hour before them.
+The passengers had taken their places in the coach, and engaged what
+horses could be had. Lord Colambre was afraid that Mr. Garraghty was
+one of them; a person exactly answering his description had taken four
+horses, and set out half an hour before in great haste for London.
+Luckily, just as those who had taken their places in the mail were
+getting into the coach, Lord Colambre saw among them a gentleman, with
+whom he had been acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who was come over
+during the long vacation, to make a tour of pleasure in England. When
+Lord Colambre explained the reason he had for being in haste to reach
+London, he had the good-nature to give up to him his place in the
+coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night, and delayed not one moment,
+till he reached his father's house, in London.
+
+"My father at home?"
+
+"Yes, my lord, in his own room--the agent from Ireland with him, on
+particular business--desired not to be interrupted--but I'll go and
+tell him, my lord, you are come."
+
+Lord Colambre ran past the servant, as he spoke--made his way into the
+room--found his father, Sir Terence O'Fay, and Mr. Garraghty--leases
+open on the table before them; a candle lighted; Sir Terence sealing;
+Garraghty emptying a bag of guineas on the table, and Lord Clonbrony
+actually with a pen in his hand, ready to sign.
+
+As the door opened, Garraghty started back, so that half the contents
+of his bag rolled upon the floor.
+
+"Stop, my dear father, I conjure you," cried Lord Colambre, springing
+forward, and snatching the pen from his father's hand.
+
+"Colambre! God bless you, my dear boy! at all events. But how came you
+here?--And what do you mean?" said his father.
+
+"Burn it!" cried Sir Terence, pinching the sealing-wax; "for I burnt
+myself with the pleasure of the surprise."
+
+Garraghty, without saying a word, was picking up the guineas that were
+scattered upon the floor.
+
+"How fortunate I am," cried Lord Colambre, "to have arrived just in
+time to tell you, my dear father, before you put your signature to
+these papers, before you conclude this bargain, all I know, all I have
+seen of that man!"
+
+"Nick Garraghty, honest old Nick; do you know him, my lord?" said Sir
+Terence.
+
+"Too well, sir."
+
+"Mr. Garraghty, what have you done to offend my son? I did not expect
+this," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Upon my conscience, my lord, nothing to my knowledge," said Mr.
+Garraghty, picking up the guineas; "but showed him every civility,
+even so far as offering to accommodate him with cash without security;
+and where will you find the other agent, in Ireland, or any where
+else, will do that? To my knowledge, I never did any thing, by word
+or deed, to offend my Lord Colambre; nor could not, for I never
+saw him but for ten minutes, in my days; and then he was in such
+a foaming passion, begging his lordship's pardon, owing to the
+misrepresentations he met with of me, I presume, from a parcel of
+blackguards that he went amongst, _incognito_, he would not let me or
+my brother Dennis say a word to set him right; but exposed me before
+all the tenantry, and then threw himself into a hack, and drove off
+here, to stop the signing of these leases, I perceive. But I trust,"
+concluded he, putting the replenished money-bag down, with a heavy
+sound on the table, opposite to Lord Clonbrony, "I trust my Lord
+Clonbrony will do me justice; that's all I have to say."
+
+"I comprehend the force of your last argument fully, sir," said Lord
+Colambre. "May I ask, how many guineas there are in the bag?--I don't
+ask whether they are my father's or not."
+
+"They are to be your lordship's father's, sir, if he thinks proper,"
+replied Garraghty. "How many, I don't know that I can justly,
+positively say--five hundred, suppose."
+
+"And they would be my father's, if he signed those leases--I
+understand that perfectly, and understand that my father will lose
+three times that sum by the bargain. My dear father, you start--but it
+is true--is not this the rent, sir, at which you are going to let Mr.
+Garraghty have the land?" placing a paper before Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"It is--the very thing."
+
+"And here, sir, written with my own hand, are copies of the proposals
+I saw from responsible, respectable tenants, offered and refused. Is
+it so, or is it not, Mr. Garraghty?--deny it, if you can."
+
+Mr. Garraghty grew pale; his lips quivered; he stammered; and, after
+a shocking convulsion of face, could at last articulate--only, "That
+there was a great difference between tenant and tenant, his lordship
+must be sensible--especially for so large a rent."
+
+"As great a difference as between agent and agent, I am
+sensible--especially for so large a property!" said Lord Colambre,
+with cool contempt. "You find, sir, I am well informed with regard to
+this transaction; you will find, also, that I am equally well informed
+with respect to every part of your conduct towards my father and his
+tenantry. If, in relating to him what I have seen and heard, I should
+make any mistakes, you are here; and I am glad you are, to set me
+right, and to do yourself justice."
+
+"Oh! as to that, I should not presume to contradict any thing your
+lordship asserts from your own authority: where would be the use?
+I leave it all to your lordship. But, as it is not particularly
+agreeable to stay to hear one's self abused--Sir Terence! I'll thank
+you to hand me my hat!--And if you'll have the goodness, my Lord
+Clonbrony, to look over finally the accounts before morning, I'll
+call at your leisure to settle the balance, as you find convenient:
+as to the leases, I'm quite indifferent." So saying, he took up his
+money-bag.
+
+"Well, you'll call again in the morning, Mr. Garraghty?" said
+Sir Terence; "and, by that time, I hope we shall understand this
+misunderstanding better."
+
+Sir Terence pulled Lord Clonbrony's sleeve: "Don't let him go with the
+money--it's much wanted."
+
+"Let him go," said Lord Colambre: "money can be had by honourable
+means."
+
+"Wheugh!--He talks as if he had the bank of England at his command, as
+every young man does," said Sir Terence.
+
+Lord Colambre deigned no reply. Lord Clonbrony walked undecidedly
+between his agent and his son--looked at Sir Terence, and said
+nothing.
+
+Mr. Garraghty departed: Lord Clonbrony called after him from the head
+of the stairs, "I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning."
+
+Sir Terence ran down stairs after him: Lord Colambre waited quietly
+for their return.
+
+"Fifteen hundred guineas at a stroke of a goose-quill!--That was a
+neat hit, narrowly missed, of honest Nick's!" said Lord Clonbrony.
+"Too bad! too bad, faith!--I am much, very much obliged to you,
+Colambre, for that hint: by to-morrow morning we shall have him in
+another tune."
+
+"And he must double the bag, or quit," said Sir Terence.
+
+"Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three times five's
+fifteen:--fifteen hundred down, or he does not get my signature to
+those leases for his brother, nor get the agency of the Colambre
+estate.--Colambre, what more have you to tell of him? for, since he
+is making out his accounts against me, it is no harm to have a _per
+contra_ against him, that may ease my balance."
+
+"Very fair! very fair!" said Sir Terence. "My lord, trust me for
+remembering all the charges against him--every item: and when he can't
+clear himself, if I don't make him buy a good character dear enough,
+why, say I am a fool, and don't know the value of character, good or
+bad!"
+
+"If you know the value of character, Sir Terence," said Lord Colambre,
+"you know that it is not to be bought or sold." Then turning from Sir
+Terence to his father, he gave a full and true account of all he had
+seen in his progress through his Irish estates; and drew a faithful
+picture both of the bad and good agent. Lord Clonbrony, who had
+benevolent feelings, and was fond of his tenantry, was touched; and
+when his son ceased speaking, repeated several times, "Rascal! rascal!
+How dare he use my tenants so--the O'Neills in particular!--Rascal!
+bad heart!--I'll have no more to do with him." But, suddenly
+recollecting himself, he turned to Sir Terence, and added, "That's
+sooner said than done--I'll tell you honestly, Colambre, your friend
+Mr. Burke may he the best man in the world--but he is the worst man to
+apply to for a remittance or a loan, in a HURRY! He always tells me,
+'he can't distress the tenants.'"
+
+"And he never, at coming into the agency even," said Sir Terence,
+"_advanced_ a good round sum to the landlord, by way of security for
+his good behaviour. Now honest Nick did that much for us at coming
+in."
+
+"And at going out is he not to be repaid?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"That's the devil!" said Lord Clonbrony: "that's the very reason I
+can't conveniently turn him out."
+
+"I will make it convenient to you, sir, if you will permit me," said
+Lord Colambre. "In a few days I shall be of age, and will join with
+you in raising whatever sum you want, to free you from this man. Allow
+me to look over his account; and whatever the honest balance may be,
+let him have it."
+
+"My dear boy!" said Lord Clonbrony, "you're a generous fellow. Fine
+Irish heart!--glad you're my son! But there's more, much more, that
+you don't know," added he, looking at Sir Terence, who cleared his
+throat; and Lord Clonbrony, who was on the point of opening all his
+affairs to his son, stopped short.
+
+"Colambre," said he, "we will not say any thing more of this at
+present; for nothing effectual can be done till you are of age, and
+then we shall see all about it."
+
+Lord Colambre perfectly understood what his father meant, and what was
+meant by the clearing of Sir Terence's throat. Lord Clonbrony wanted
+his son to join him in opening the estate to pay his debts; and Sir
+Terence feared that if Lord Colambre were abruptly told the whole sum
+total of the debts, he would never be persuaded to join in selling or
+mortgaging so much of his patrimony as would be necessary for their
+payment. Sir Terence thought that the young man, ignorant probably of
+business, and unsuspicious of the state of his father's affairs, might
+be brought, by proper management, to any measures they desired. Lord
+Clonbrony wavered between the temptation to throw himself upon the
+generosity of his son, and the immediate convenience of borrowing a
+sum of money from his agent, to relieve his present embarrassments.
+
+"Nothing can be settled," repeated he, "till Colambre is of age; so it
+does not signify talking of it."
+
+"Why so, sir?" said Lord Colambre. "Though my act, in law, may not be
+valid till I am of age, my promise, as a man of honour, is binding
+now; and, I trust, would be as satisfactory to my father as any legal
+deed whatever."
+
+"Undoubtedly, my dear boy; but--"
+
+"But what?" said Lord Colambre, following his father's eye, which
+turned to Sir Terence O'Fay, as if asking his permission to explain.
+"As my father's friend, sir, you ought, permit me to say, at this
+moment to use your influence to prevail upon him to throw aside all
+reserve with a son, whose warmest wish is to serve him, and to see him
+at ease and happy."
+
+"Generous, dear boy," cried Lord Clonbrony. "Terence, I can't stand
+it; but how shall I bring myself to name the amount of the debts?"
+
+"At some time or other, I must know it," said Lord Colambre: "I cannot
+be better prepared at any moment than the present; never more disposed
+to give my assistance to relieve all difficulties. Blindfold, I cannot
+be led to any purpose, sir," said he, looking at Sir Terence: "the
+attempt would be degrading and futile. Blindfolded I will not be--but,
+with my eyes open, I will see, and go straight and prompt as heart can
+go, to my father's interest, without a look or thought to my own."
+
+"By St. Patrick! the spirit of a prince, and an Irish prince, spoke
+there," cried Sir Terence: "and if I'd fifty hearts, you'd have all in
+your hand this minute, at your service, and warm. Blindfold you! After
+that, the man that would attempt it _desarves_ to be shot; and I'd
+have no sincerer pleasure in life than shooting him this moment, was
+he my best friend. But it's not Clonbrony, or your father, my lord,
+would act that way, no more than Sir Terence O'Fay--there's the
+schedule of the debts," drawing a paper from his bosom; "and I'll
+swear to the lot, and not a man on earth could do that but myself."
+
+Lord Colambre opened the paper. His father turned aside, covering his
+face with both his hands.
+
+"Tut, man," said Sir Terence: "I know him now better than you; he will
+stand, you'll find, the shock of that regiment of figures--he is steel
+to the backbone, and proof spirit."
+
+"I thank you, my dear father," said Lord Colambre, "for trusting
+me thus at once with a view of the truth. At first sight it is, I
+acknowledge, worse than I expected; but I make no doubt that, when
+you allow me to examine Mr. Garraghty's accounts and Mr. Mordicai's
+claims, we shall be able to reduce this alarming total considerably."
+
+"The devil a pound, nor a penny," said Sir Terence; "for you have to
+deal with a Jew and Old Nick; and, since I'm not a match for them, I
+don't know who is; and I have no hope of getting any abatement. I've
+looked over the accounts till I'm sick."
+
+"Nevertheless, you will observe that fifteen hundred guineas have been
+saved to my father at one stroke, by his not signing those leases."
+
+"Saved to you, my lord; not your father, if you please," said Sir
+Terence. "For now I'm upon the square with you, I must be straight
+as an arrow, and deal with you as the son and friend of my friend:
+before, I was considering you only as the son and heir, which is quite
+another thing, you know; accordingly, acting for your father here,
+I was making the best bargain against you I could: honestly, now, I
+tell you. I knew the value of the lands well enough: I was as sharp
+as Garraghty, and he knew it; I was to have had for your father
+_the difference_ from him, partly in cash and partly in balance of
+accounts--you comprehend--and you only would have been the loser, and
+never would have known it, may be, till after we all were dead and
+buried; and then you might have set aside Garraghty's lease easy, and
+no harm done to any but a rogue that _desarved_ it; and, in the mean
+time, an accommodation to my honest friend, my lord, your father here.
+But, as fate would have it, you upset all by your progress incognito
+through them estates. Well, it's best as it is, and I am better
+pleased to be as we are, trusting all to a generous son's own heart.
+Now put the poor father out of pain, and tell us what you'll do, my
+dear."
+
+"In one word, then," said Lord Colambre, "I will, upon two conditions,
+either join my father in levying fines to enable him to sell or
+mortgage whatever portion of his estate is necessary for the payment
+of these debts; or I will, in whatever mode he can point out, as more
+agreeable or more advantageous to him, join in giving security to his
+creditors."
+
+"Dear, noble fellow!" cried Sir Terence: "none but an Irishman could
+do it."
+
+Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate, but held his
+arms open to embrace his son.
+
+"But you have not heard my conditions yet," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, confound the conditions!" cried Sir Terence.
+
+"What conditions could he ask, that I could refuse at this minute?"
+said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Nor I--was it my heart's blood, and were I to be hanged for it,"
+cried Sir Terence. "And what are the conditions?"
+
+"That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from the agency."
+
+"And welcome, and glad to get rid of him--the rogue, the tyrant," said
+Lord Clonbrony; "and, to be beforehand with you in your next wish, put
+Mr. Burke into his place."
+
+"I'll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this minute," cried
+Terry, "with all the pleasure in life. No; it's my Lord Colambre
+should do that in all justice."
+
+"But what's your next condition? I hope it's no worse," said Lord
+Clonbrony.
+
+"That you and my mother should cease to be absentees."
+
+"Oh, murder!" said Sir Terence; "may be that's not so easy; for there
+are two words to that bargain."
+
+Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was ready to return
+to Ireland next morning, and to promise to reside on his estate all
+the rest of his days; that there was nothing he desired more, provided
+Lady Clonbrony would consent to it; but that he could not promise for
+her; that she was as obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had
+often tried, but that there was no moving her; and that, in short, he
+could not promise on her part.
+
+But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he must insist.
+Unless this condition were granted, he would not engage to do any
+thing.
+
+"Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes to town; she
+will come up from Buxton the day you're of age to sign some papers,"
+said Lord Clonbrony; "but," added he with a very dejected look and
+voice, "if all's to depend on my Lady Clonbrony's consenting to return
+to Ireland, I'm as far from all hope of being at ease as ever."
+
+"Upon my conscience, we're all at sea again," said Sir Terence.
+
+Lord Colambre was silent; but in his silence there was such an air
+of firmness, that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir Terence were convinced
+entreaties would, on this point, be fruitless. Lord Clonbrony sighed
+deeply.
+
+"But when it's ruin or safety! and her husband and all belonging to
+her at stake, the woman can't persist in being a mule," said Sir
+Terence.
+
+"Of whom are you talking, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Of whom? Oh, I beg your lordship's pardon--I thought I was talking to
+my lord; but, in other words, as you are her son, I'm persuaded her
+ladyship, your mother, will prove herself a reasonable woman--when she
+sees she can't help it. So, my Lord Clonbrony, cheer up; a great deal
+may be done by the fear of Mordicai, and an execution, especially now
+there's no prior creditor. Since there's no reserve between you and
+I now, my Lord Colambre," said Sir Terence, "I must tell you all,
+and how we shambled on those months while you were in Ireland. First,
+Mordicai went to law, to prove I was in a conspiracy with your father,
+pretending to be prior creditor, to keep him off and out of his own;
+which, after a world of swearing and law--law always takes time to do
+justice, that's one comfort--the villain proved at last to be true
+enough, and so cast us; and I was forced to be paid off last week. So
+there's no prior creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then
+his execution was coming down upon us, and nothing to stay it till I
+thought of a monthly annuity to Mordicai, in the shape of a wager.
+So the morning after he cast us, I went to him: 'Mr. Mordicai,' says
+I, 'you must be _plased_ to see a man you've beaten so handsomely;
+and though I'm sore, both for myself and my friend, yet you see I
+can laugh still, though an execution is no laughing matter, and
+I'm sensible you've one in petto in your sleeve for my friend Lord
+Clonbrony. But I'll lay you a wager of a hundred guineas on paper,
+that a marriage of his son with an heiress, before next Lady-day, will
+set all to rights, and pay you with a compliment too."
+
+"Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such thing?"
+
+"I did--but what was it but a wager? which is nothing but a dream;
+and, when lost, as I am as sensible as you are that it must be, why
+what is it, after all, but a bonus, in a gentlemanlike form, to
+Mordicai? which, I grant you, is more than he deserves--for staying
+the execution till you be of age; and even for my Lady Clonbrony's
+sake, though I know she hates me like poison, rather than have her
+disturbed by an execution, I'd pay the hundred guineas this minute out
+of my own pocket, if I had 'em in it."
+
+A thundering knock at the door was heard at this moment.
+
+"Never heed it; let 'em thunder," said Sir Terence: "whoever it is,
+they won't get in; for my lord bid them let none in for their life.
+It's necessary for us to be very particular about the street-door
+now; and I advise a double chain for it, and to have the footmen well
+tutored to look before they run to a double rap; for a double rap
+might be a double trap."
+
+"My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord," said a footman, throwing open the
+door.
+
+"My mother! Miss Nugent!" cried Lord Colambre, springing eagerly
+forward.
+
+"Colambre! Here!" said his mother: "but it's all too late now, and no
+matter where you are."
+
+Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her; and he, without
+considering the coldness of her manner, scarcely hearing, and not at
+all understanding, the words she said, fixed his eyes on his cousin,
+who, with a countenance all radiant with affectionate joy, held out
+her hand to him.
+
+"Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure!"
+
+He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the recollection
+of _St. Omar_ crossed his mind: he checked himself, and said something
+about joy and pleasure, but his countenance expressed neither; and
+Miss Nugent, much surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew
+her hand, and, turning away, left the room.
+
+"Grace! darling!" called Lord Clonbrony, "whither so fast, before
+you've given me a word or a kiss?"
+
+She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her in his
+arms. "Why must I let you go? And what makes you so pale, my dear
+child?"
+
+"I am a little, a little tired--I will be with you again soon."
+
+Her uncle let her go.
+
+"Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed with her, by all I
+can see," said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I know what is
+to blame and who is to blame," said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone of
+displeasure, fixing her eyes upon her son. "Yes, you may well look
+confounded, Colambre; but it is too late now--you should have known
+your own mind in time. I see you have heard it, then--but I am sure
+I don't know how; for it was only decided the day I left Buxton. The
+news could hardly travel faster than I did. Pray how did you hear it?"
+
+"Hear what, ma'am?" said Colambre.
+
+"Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married."
+
+"All! Now, Lord Colambre, you _reelly_ are too much for my patience.
+But I flatter myself you will feel, when I tell you that it is your
+friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, as I always prophesied, who has carried off
+the prize from you."
+
+"But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should say, that
+I do feel sincere pleasure in this marriage--I always wished it: my
+friend, Sir Arthur, from the first moment, trusted me with the secret
+of his attachment; he knew that he had my warm good wishes for his
+success; he knew that I thought most highly of the young lady; but
+that I never thought of her as a wife for myself."
+
+"And why did not you? that is the very thing I complain of," said Lady
+Clonbrony. "But it is all over now. You may set your heart at ease,
+for they are to be married on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst is
+ready to break her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for her
+daughter; and you, ungrateful as you are, you don't know how she
+wished you to be the happy man. But only conceive, after all that
+has passed, Miss Broadhurst had the assurance to expect I would let
+my niece be her bride's-maid. Oh, I flatly refused; that is, I told
+Grace it could not be; and, that there might be no affront to Mrs.
+Broadhurst, who did not deserve it, I pretended Grace had never
+mentioned it; but ordered my carriage, and left Buxton directly. Grace
+was hurt, for she is very warm in her friendships. I am sorry to hurt
+Grace. But _reelly_ I could not let her be bride's-maid:--and that, if
+you must know, is what vexed her, and made the tears come in her eyes,
+I suppose--and I'm sorry for it; but one must keep up one's dignity a
+little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen--and _reelly_
+now, a very odd girl; never did any thing like any body else; settled
+her marriage at last in the oddest way. Grace can tell you the
+particulars. I own, I am tired of the subject, and tired of my
+journey. My lord, I shall take leave to dine in my own room to-day,"
+continued her ladyship, as she quitted the room.
+
+"I hope her ladyship did not notice me," said Sir Terence O'Fay,
+coming from behind a window-curtain.
+
+"Why, Terry, what did you hide for?" said Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"Hide! I didn't hide, nor wouldn't from any man living, _let alone_
+any woman.[1] Hide! no; but I just stood looking out of the window,
+behind this curtain, that my poor Lady Clonbrony might not be
+discomfited and shocked by the sight of one whom she can't abide, the
+very minute she come home. Oh, I've some consideration--it would have
+put her out of humour worse with both of you too; and for that there's
+no need, as far as I see. So I'll take myself off to my coffee-house
+to dine, and may be you may get her down and into spirits again. But,
+for your lives, don't touch upon Ireland this night, nor till she has
+fairly got the better of the marriage. _Apropos_--there's my wager
+to Mordicai gone at a slap. It's I that ought to be scolding you, my
+Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as well yet, not in point of
+purse, may be. But I'm not one of those that think that money's every
+thing--though, I grant you, in this world there's nothing to be had
+without it--love excepted,--which most people don't believe in--but
+not I--in particular cases. So I leave you, with my blessing, and I've
+a notion, at this time, that is better than my company--your most
+devoted."
+
+[Footnote 1: Leaving any woman out of the question.]
+
+The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded by Lord Clonbrony
+to stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre as he went out of the room, he
+said, "I've an eye, in going, to your heart's ease too. When I played
+myself, I never liked standers-by."
+
+Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he never could help
+boasting of his discoveries.
+
+Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure; and followed
+his equally judicious advice, not to touch upon Ireland this night.
+
+Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to be relieved from
+the necessity of talking; and he indulged himself in considering what
+might be passing in Miss Nugent's mind. She now appeared in remarkably
+good spirits; for her aunt had given her a hint that she thought
+her out of humour because she had not been permitted to be Miss
+Broadhurst's bride's-maid, and she was determined to exert herself
+to dispel this notion. This it was now easy for her to do, because
+she had, by this time, in her own imagination, found a plausible
+excuse for that coldness in Lord Colambre's reception of her, by
+which she had at first been hurt: she had settled it, that he had
+taken it for granted she was of his mother's sentiments respecting
+Miss Broadhurst's marriage, and that this idea, and perhaps the
+apprehension of her reproaches, had caused this embarrassment--she
+knew that she could easily set this misunderstanding right.
+Accordingly, when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep about
+Buxton, and was taking her afternoon's nap, as it was her custom to do
+when she had neither cards nor company to keep her awake, Miss Nugent
+began to explain her own sentiments, and to give Lord Colambre, as her
+aunt had desired, an account of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst's
+marriage had been settled.
+
+"In the first place," said she, "let me assure you, that I rejoice in
+this marriage: I think your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, is every way
+deserving of my friend Miss Broadhurst; and this from me," said she,
+smiling, "is no slight eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress
+of their attachment; and it has been founded on the perception of
+such excellent qualities on each side, that I have no fear for its
+permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl's honourable conduct in paying his
+father's debts, and his generosity to his mother and sisters, whose
+fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my
+friend. It was like what she would have done herself, and like--in
+short, it is what few young men, as she said, of the present day
+would do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going
+without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he felt
+to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of
+fashionable young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a very
+different impression on Miss Broadhurst's mind; her esteem and
+admiration were excited by these proofs of strength of character, and
+of just and good principles."
+
+"If you go on you will make me envious and jealous of my friend," said
+Lord Colambre.
+
+"You jealous!--Oh, it is too late now--besides, you cannot be jealous,
+for you never loved."
+
+"I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge."
+
+"There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you--he loved, and
+my friend saw it."
+
+"She was clear-sighted," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"She was clear-sighted," repeated Miss Nugent; "but if you mean that
+she was vain, and apt to fancy people in love with her, I can assure
+you that you are mistaken. Never was woman, young or old, more
+clear-sighted to the views of those by whom she was addressed. No
+flattery, no fashion, could blind her judgment."
+
+"She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"And a friend for life, too, I am sure you will allow--and she had
+such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might have puzzled
+the choice and turned the brain of any inferior person. Such a
+succession of lovers as she has had this summer, ever since you
+went to Ireland--they appeared and vanished like figures in a magic
+lantern. She had three noble admirers--rank in three different forms
+offered themselves First came in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank
+and gaming; then rank, very high rank, over head and ears in debt.
+All of these were rejected; and, as they moved off, I thought Mrs.
+Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next came fashion, with his
+head, heart, and soul in his cravat--he quickly made his bow, or
+rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of snuff. Then came a
+man of wit--but it was wit without worth; and presently came 'worth
+without wit.' She preferred 'wit and worth united,' which she
+fortunately at last found, Lord Colambre, in your friend, Sir Arthur
+Berryl."
+
+"Grace, my girl!" said her uncle, "I'm glad to see you've got up your
+spirits again, though you were not to be bride's-maid. Well, I hope
+you'll be bride soon--I'm sure you ought to be--and you should think
+of rewarding that poor Mr. Salisbury, who plagues me to death,
+whenever he can catch hold of me, about you. He must have our
+definitive at last, you know, Grace."
+
+A silence ensued, which neither Miss Nugent nor Lord Colambre seemed
+able or willing to break.
+
+"Very good company, faith, you three!--One of ye asleep, and the other
+two saying nothing, to keep one awake. Colambre, have you no Dublin
+news? Grace, have you no Buxton scandal? What was it Lady Clonbrony
+told us you'd tell us, about the oddness of Miss Broadhurst's settling
+her marriage? Tell me that, for I love to hear odd things."
+
+"Perhaps you will not think it odd," said she. "One evening--but I
+should begin by telling you that three of her admirers, besides Sir
+Arthur Berryl, had followed her to Buxton, and had been paying their
+court to her all the time we were there; and at last grew impatient
+for her decision."
+
+"Ay, for her definitive!" said Lord Clonbrony. Miss Nugent was put out
+again, but resumed.
+
+"So one evening, just before the dancing began, the gentlemen were
+all standing round Miss Broadhurst; one of them said, 'I wish Miss
+Broadhurst would decide--that whoever she dances with to-night should
+be her partner for life: what a happy man he would be!'
+
+"'But how can I decide?' said Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"'I wish I had a friend to plead for me!' said one of the suitors,
+looking at me.
+
+"'Have you no friend of your own?' said Miss Broadhurst.
+
+"'Plenty of friends,' said the gentleman.
+
+"'Plenty!--then you must be a very happy man,' replied Miss
+Broadhurst. 'Come,' said she, laughing, 'I will dance with that man
+who can convince me that he has, near relations excepted, one true
+friend in the world! That man who has made the best friend, I dare
+say, will make the best husband!'
+
+"At that moment," continued Miss Nugent, "I was certain who would
+be her choice. The gentlemen all declared at first that they had
+abundance of excellent friends--the best friends in the world! but
+when Miss Broadhurst cross-examined them, as to what their friends
+had done for them, or what they were willing to do, modern friendship
+dwindled into a ridiculously small compass. I cannot give you the
+particulars of the cross-examination, though it was conducted with
+great spirit and humour by Miss Broadhurst; but I can tell you the
+result--that Sir Arthur Berryl, by incontrovertible facts, and
+eloquence warm from the heart, convinced every body present that he
+had the best friend in the world; and Miss Broadhurst, as he finished
+speaking, gave him her hand, and he led her off in triumph--So
+you see, Lord Colambre, you were at last the cause of my friend's
+marriage!"
+
+She turned to Lord Colambre as she spoke these words, with such
+an affectionate smile, and such an expression of open, innocent
+tenderness in her whole countenance, that our hero could hardly resist
+the impulse of his passion--could hardly restrain himself from falling
+at her feet that instant, and declaring his love. "But St. Omar! St.
+Omar!--It must not be!"
+
+"I must be gone!" said Lord Clonbrony, pulling out his watch. "It is
+time to go to my club; and poor Terry will wonder what has become of
+me."
+
+Lord Colambre instantly offered to accompany his father; much to Lord
+Clonbrony's, and more to Miss Nugent's surprise.
+
+"What!" said she to herself, "after so long an absence, leave
+me!--Leave his mother, with whom he always used to stay--on purpose to
+avoid me! What can I have done to displease him? It is clear it was
+not about Miss Broadhurst's marriage he was offended; for he looked
+pleased, and like himself, whilst I was talking of that: but the
+moment afterwards, what a constrained, unintelligible expression of
+countenance--and leaves me to go to a club which he detests!"
+
+As the gentlemen shut the door on leaving the room, Lady Clonbrony
+awakened, and, starting up, exclaimed, "What's the matter? Are they
+gone? Is Colambre gone?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, with my uncle."
+
+"Very odd! very odd of him to go and leave me! he always used to stay
+with me--what did he say about me?"
+
+"Nothing, ma'am."
+
+"Well, then, I have nothing to say about him, or about any thing,
+indeed, for I'm excessively tired and stupid--alone in Lon'on's as bad
+as any where else. Ring the bell, and we'll go to bed directly--if you
+have no objection, Grace."
+
+Grace made no objection: Lady Clonbrony went to bed and to sleep in
+ten minutes. Miss Nugent went to bed; but she lay awake, considering
+what could be the cause of her cousin Colambre's hard unkindness, and
+of "his altered eye." She was openness itself; and she determined
+that, the first moment she could speak to him alone, she would at once
+ask for an explanation. With this resolution, she rose in the morning,
+and went down to the breakfast-room, in hopes of meeting him, as it
+had formerly been his custom to be early; and she expected to find him
+reading in his usual place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+No--Lord Colambre was not in his accustomed place, reading in the
+breakfast-room; nor did he make his appearance till both his father
+and mother had been some time at breakfast.
+
+"Good morning to you, my Lord Colambre," said his mother, in a
+reproachful tone, the moment he entered; "I am much obliged to you for
+your company last night."
+
+"Good morning to you, Colambre," said his father, in a more jocose
+tone of reproach; "I am obliged to you for your good company last
+night."
+
+"Good morning to you, Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent; and though she
+endeavoured to throw all reproach from her looks, and to let none be
+heard in her voice, yet there was a slight tremulous motion in that
+voice, which struck our hero to the heart.
+
+"I thank you, ma'am, for missing me," said he, addressing himself to
+his mother: "I stayed away but half an hour; I accompanied my father
+to St. James's-street, and when I returned I found that every one had
+retired to rest."
+
+"Oh, was that the case?" said Lady Clonbrony: "I own I thought it very
+unlike you to leave me in that sort of way."
+
+"And, lest you should be jealous of that half hour when he was
+accompanying me," said Lord Clonbrony, "I must remark, that, though
+I had his body with me, I had none of his mind; that he left at home
+with you ladies, or with some fair one across the water, for the
+deuce of two words did he bestow upon me, with all his pretence of
+accompanying me."
+
+"Lord Colambre seems to have a fair chance of a pleasant breakfast,"
+said Miss Nugent, smiling; "reproaches on all sides."
+
+"I have heard none on your side, Grace," said Lord Clonbrony; "and
+that's the reason, I suppose, he wisely takes his seat beside you. But
+come, we will not badger you any more, my dear boy. We have given him
+as fine a complexion amongst us as if he had been out hunting these
+three hours: have not we, Grace?"
+
+"When Colambre has been a season or two more in Lon'on, he'll not be
+so easily put out of countenance," said Lady Clonbrony; "you don't see
+young men of fashion here blushing about nothing."
+
+"No, nor about any thing, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony; "but that's
+no proof they do nothing they ought to blush for."
+
+"What they do, there's no occasion for ladies to inquire," said Lady
+Clonbrony; "but this I know, that it's a great disadvantage to a young
+man of a certain rank to blush; for no people, who live in a certain
+set, ever do: and it is the most opposite thing possible to a certain
+air, which, I own, I think Colambre wants; and now that he has done
+travelling in Ireland, which is no use in _pint_ of giving a gentleman
+a travelled air, or any thing of that sort, I hope he will put himself
+under my conduct for next winter's campaign in town."
+
+Lord Clonbrony looked as if he did not know how to look; and, after
+drumming on the table for some seconds, said, "Colambre, I told you
+how it would be: that's a fatal hard condition of yours."
+
+"Not a hard condition, I hope, my dear father," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Hard it must be, since it can't be fulfilled, or won't be fulfilled,
+which comes to the same thing," replied Lord Clonbrony, sighing.
+
+"I am persuaded, sir, that it will be fulfilled," said Lord Colambre;
+"I am persuaded that, when my mother hears the truth, and the whole
+truth--when she finds that your happiness, and the happiness of her
+whole family, depend upon her yielding her taste on one subject--"
+
+"Oh, I see now what you are about," cried Lady Clonbrony; "you are
+coming round with your persuasions and prefaces to ask me to give
+up Lon'on, and go back with you to Ireland, my lord. You may save
+yourselves the trouble, all of you; for no earthly persuasions shall
+make me do it. I will never give up my taste on that _pint_. My
+happiness has a right to be as much considered as your father's,
+Colambre, or anybody's; and, in one word, I won't do it," cried she,
+rising angrily from the breakfast table.
+
+"There! did not I tell you how it would be?" cried Lord Clonbrony.
+
+"My mother has not heard me yet," said Lord Colambre, laying his hand
+upon his mother's arm, as she attempted to pass: "hear me, madam, for
+your own sake. You do not know what will happen, this very day--this
+very hour, perhaps--if you do not listen to me."
+
+"And what will happen?" said Lady Clonbrony, stopping short.
+
+"Ay, indeed; she little knows," said Lord Clonbrony, "what's hanging
+over her head."
+
+"Hanging over my head?" said Lady Clonbrony, looking up;
+"nonsense!--what?"
+
+"An execution, madam!" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Gracious me! an execution!" said Lady Clonbrony, sitting down again;
+"but I heard you talk of an execution months ago, my lord, before my
+son went to Ireland, and it blew over--I heard no more of it."
+
+"It won't blow over now," said Lord Clonbrony; "you'll hear more of
+it now. Sir Terence O'Fay it was, you may remember, that settled it
+then."
+
+"Well, and can't he settle it now? Send for him, since he understands
+these cases; and I will ask him to dinner myself, for your sake, and
+be very civil to him, my lord."
+
+"All your civility, either for my sake or your own, will not signify a
+straw, my dear, in this case--any thing that poor Terry could do, he'd
+do, and welcome, without it; but he can do nothing."
+
+"Nothing!--that's very extraordinary. But I'm clear no one dare to
+bring a real execution against us in earnest; and you are only trying
+to frighten me to your purpose, like a child; but it shan't do."
+
+"Very well, my dear; you'll see--too late."
+
+A knock at the house door.
+
+"Who is it?--What is it?" cried Lord Clonbrony, growing very pale.
+
+Lord Colambre changed colour too, and ran down stairs. "Don't let 'em
+let any body in, for your life, Colambre; under any pretence," cried
+Lord Clonbrony, calling from the head of the stairs: then running to
+the window, "By all that's good, it's Mordicai himself! and the people
+with him."
+
+"Lean your head on me, my dear aunt," said Miss Nugent: Lady Clonbrony
+leant back, trembling, and ready to faint.
+
+"But he's walking off now; the rascal could not get in--safe for the
+present!" cried Lord Clonbrony, rubbing his hands, and repeating,
+"safe for the present!"
+
+"Safe for the present!" repeated Lord Colambre, coming again into the
+room. "Safe for the present hour."
+
+"He could not get in, I suppose.--Oh, I warned all the servants
+well," said Lord Clonbrony; "and so did Terry. Ay, there's the rascal
+Mordicai walking off, at the end of the street; I know his walk a mile
+off. Gad! I can breathe again. I am glad he's gone. But he will come
+back and always lie in wait, and some time or other, when we're off
+our guard (unawares), he'll slide in."
+
+"Slide in! Oh, horrid!" cried Lady Clonbrony, sitting up, and wiping
+away the water which Miss Nugent had sprinkled on her face.
+
+"Were you much alarmed?" said Lord Colambre, with a voice of
+tenderness, looking at his mother first, but his eyes fixing on Miss
+Nugent.
+
+"Shockingly!" said Lady Clonbrony; "I never thought it would _reelly_
+come to this."
+
+"It will really come to much more, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony,
+"that you may depend upon, unless you prevent it."
+
+"Lord! What can I do?--I know nothing of business: how should I, Lord
+Clonbrony? But I know there's Colambre--I was always told that when he
+was of age, every thing should be settled; and why can't he settle it
+when he's upon the spot?"
+
+"And upon one condition, I will," cried Lord Colambre; "at what loss
+to myself, my dear mother, I need not mention."
+
+"Then I will mention it," cried Lord Clonbrony: "at the loss it will
+be of nearly half the estate he would have had, if we had not spent
+it."
+
+"Loss! Oh, I am excessively sorry my son's to be at such a loss--it
+must not be."
+
+"It cannot be otherwise," said Lord Clonbrony; "nor it can't be this
+way either, my Lady Clonbrony, unless you comply with his condition,
+and consent to return to Ireland."
+
+"I cannot--I will not," replied Lady Clonbrony. "Is this your
+condition, Colambre?--I take it exceedingly ill of you. I think it
+very unkind, and unhandsome, and ungenerous, and undutiful of you,
+Colambre; you my son!" She poured forth a torrent of reproaches;
+then came to entreaties and tears. But our hero, prepared for this,
+had steeled his mind; and he stood resolved not to indulge his own
+feelings, or to yield to caprice or persuasion, but to do that which
+he knew was best for the happiness of hundreds of tenants, who
+depended upon them--best for both his father and his mother's ultimate
+happiness and respectability.
+
+"It's all in vain," cried Lord Clonbrony; "I have no resource but one,
+and I must condescend now to go to him this minute, for Mordicai will
+be back and seize all--I must sign and leave all to Garraghty."
+
+"Well, sign, sign, my lord, and settle with Garraghty. Colambre, I've
+heard all the complaints you brought over against that man. My lord
+spent half the night telling them to me: but all agents are bad, I
+suppose; at any rate I can't help it--sign, sign, my lord; he has
+money--yes, do; go and settle with him, my lord."
+
+Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same moment, stopped
+Lord Clonbrony as he was quitting the room, and then approached Lady
+Clonbrony with supplicating looks; but she turned her head to the
+other side, and, as if putting away their entreaties, made a repelling
+motion with both her hands, and exclaimed, "No, Grace Nugent!--no,
+Colambre--no--no, Colambre! I'll never hear of leaving Lon'on--there's
+no living out of Lon'on--I can't, I won't live out of Lon'on, I say."
+
+Her son saw that the _Londonomania_ was now stronger than ever
+upon her, but resolved to make one desperate appeal to her natural
+feelings, which, though smothered, he could not believe were wholly
+extinguished: he caught her repelling hands, and pressing them with
+respectful tenderness to his lips, "Oh, my dear mother, you once loved
+your son," said he; "loved him better than any thing in this world: if
+one spark of affection for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him,
+if he pass the bounds--bounds he never passed before--of filial duty.
+Mother, in compliance with your wishes my father left Ireland--left
+his home, his duties, his friends, his natural connexions, and for
+many years he has lived in England, and you have spent many seasons in
+London."
+
+"Yes, in the very best company--in the very first circles," said Lady
+Clonbrony; "cold as the high-bred English are said to be in general to
+strangers."
+
+"Yes," replied Lord Colambre, "the very best company (if you mean the
+most fashionable) have accepted of our entertainments. We have forced
+our way into their frozen circles; we have been permitted to breathe
+in these elevated regions of fashion; we have it to say, that the
+Duke of _This_, and my Lady _That_, are of our acquaintance.--We may
+say more: we may boast that we have vied with those whom we could
+never equal. And at what expense have we done all this? For a single
+season, the last winter (I will go no farther), at the expense of
+a great part of your timber, the growth of a century--swallowed in
+the entertainments of one winter in London! Our hills to be bare for
+another half century to come! But let the trees go: I think more of
+your tenants--of those left under the tyranny of a bad agent, at the
+expense of every comfort, every hope they enjoyed!--tenants, who were
+thriving and prosperous; who used to smile upon you, and to bless you
+both! In one cottage, I have seen--"
+
+Here Lord Clonbrony, unable to restrain his emotion, hurried out of
+the room.
+
+"Then I am sure it is not my fault," said Lady Clonbrony; "for I
+brought my lord a large fortune: and I am confident I have not, after
+all, spent more any season, in the best company, than he has among a
+set of low people, in his muddling, discreditable way."
+
+"And how has he been reduced to this?" said Lord Colambre. "Did he
+not formerly live with gentlemen, his equals, in his own country;
+his contemporaries? Men of the first station and character, whom I
+met in Dublin, spoke of him in a manner that gratified the heart of
+his son: he was respectable and respected, at his own home; but when
+he was forced away from that home, deprived of his objects and his
+occupations, compelled to live in London, or at watering-places, where
+he could find no employments that were suitable to him--set down, late
+in life, in the midst of strangers, to him cold and reserved--himself
+too proud to bend to those who disdained him as an Irishman--is he
+not more to be pitied than blamed for--yes, I, his son, must say the
+word--the degradation which has ensued? And do not the feelings, which
+have this moment forced him to leave the room, show of what he is
+capable? Oh, mother!" cried Lord Colambre, throwing himself at Lady
+Clonbrony's feet, "restore my father to himself! Should such feelings
+be wasted?--No; give them again to expand in benevolent, in kind,
+useful actions; give him again to his tenantry, his duties, his
+country, his home; return to that home yourself, dear mother! leave
+all the nonsense of high life--scorn the impertinence of these
+dictators of fashion, who, in return for all the pains we take to
+imitate, to court them--in return for the sacrifice of health,
+fortune, peace of mind--bestow sarcasm, contempt, ridicule, and
+mimicry!"
+
+"Oh, Colambre! Colambre! mimicry--I'll never believe it."
+
+"Believe me--believe me, mother; for I speak of what I know. Scorn
+them--quit them! Return to an unsophisticated people--to poor, but
+grateful hearts, still warm with the remembrance of your kindness,
+still blessing you for favours long since conferred, ever praying to
+see you once more. Believe me, for I speak of what I know--your son
+has heard these prayers, has felt these blessings. Here! at my heart
+felt, and still feel them, when I was not known to be your son, in the
+cottage of the widow O'Neil."
+
+"Oh, did you see the widow O'Neil! and does she remember me?" said
+Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"Remember you! and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept in the bed--I would
+tell you more, but I cannot."
+
+"Well! I never should have thought they would have remembered me so
+long! poor people!" said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"I thought all in Ireland must have forgotten me, it is now so long
+since I was at home."
+
+"You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can answer for that.
+Return home, my dearest mother--let me see you once more among your
+natural friends, beloved, respected, happy!"
+
+"Oh, return! let us return home!" cried Miss Nugent, with a voice of
+great emotion. "Return, let us return home! My beloved aunt, speak to
+us! say that you grant our request!" She kneeled beside Lord Colambre,
+as she spoke.
+
+"Is it possible to resist that voice, that look?" thought Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"If any body knew," said Lady Clonbrony, "if any body could conceive,
+how I detest the sight, the thoughts of that old yellow damask
+furniture, in the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle--"
+
+"Good Heavens!" cried Lord Colambre, starting up, and looking at his
+mother in stupified astonishment; "is _that_ what you are thinking of,
+ma'am?"
+
+"The yellow damask furniture!" said her niece, smiling. "Oh, if that's
+all, that shall never offend your eyes again. Aunt, my painted velvet
+chairs are finished; and trust the furnishing that room to me. The
+legacy lately left me cannot be better applied--you shall see how
+beautifully it will be furnished."
+
+"Oh, if I had money, I should like to do it myself; but it would take
+an immensity to new furnish Clonbrony Castle properly."
+
+"The furniture in this house," said Miss Nugent, looking round--
+
+"Would do a great deal towards it, I declare," cried Lady Clonbrony;
+"that never struck me before, Grace, I protest--and what would
+not suit one might sell or exchange here--and it would be a great
+amusement to me--and I should like to set the fashion of something
+better in that country. And I declare now, I should like to see those
+poor people, and that widow O'Neil. I do assure you, I think I was
+happier at home; only that one gets, I don't know how, a notion,
+one's nobody out of Lon'on. But, after all, there's many drawbacks
+in Lon'on--and many people are very impertinent, I'll allow--and if
+there's a woman in the world I hate, it is Mrs. Dareville--and, if I
+was leaving Lon'on, I should not regret Lady Langdale neither--and
+Lady St. James is as cold as a stone. Colambre may well say
+_frozen circles_--these sort of people are really very cold, and
+have, I do believe, no hearts. I don't verily think there is
+one of them would regret me more--Hey! let me see, Dublin--the
+winter--Merrion-square--new furnished--and the summer--Clonbrony
+Castle!"
+
+Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till her mind should
+have worked itself clear. One great obstacle had been removed; and now
+that the yellow damask had been taken out of her imagination, they no
+longer despaired.
+
+Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room. "What hopes?--any? if
+not, let me go." He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony's
+countenance--hope in the face of his son and niece. "My dear, dear
+Lady Clonbrony, make us all happy by one word," said he, kissing her.
+
+"You never kissed me so since we left Ireland before," said Lady
+Clonbrony. "Well, since it must be so, let us go," said she.
+
+"Did I ever see such joy!" said Lord Clonbrony, clasping his hands: "I
+never expected such joy in my life!--I must go and tell poor Terry!"
+and off he ran.
+
+"And now, since we are to go," said Lady Clonbrony, "pray let us
+go immediately, before the thing gets wind, else I shall have Mrs.
+Dareville, and Lady Langdale, and Lady St. James, and all the world,
+coming to condole with me, just to satisfy their own curiosity: and
+then, Miss Pratt, who hears every thing that every body says, and more
+than they say, will come and tell me how it is reported every where
+that we are ruined. Oh! I never could bear to stay and hear all this.
+I'll tell you what I'll do--you are to be of age soon, Colambre,--very
+well, there are some papers for me to sign,--I must stay to put my
+name to them, and, that done, that minute I'll leave you and Lord
+Clonbrony to settle all the rest; and I'll get into my carriage, with
+Grace, and go down to Buxton again; where you can come for me, and
+take me up, when you're all ready to go to Ireland--and we shall be so
+far on our way. Colambre, what do you say to this?"
+
+"That, if you like it, madam," said he, giving one hasty glance at
+Miss Nugent, and withdrawing his eyes, "it is the best possible
+arrangement."
+
+"So," thought Grace, "that is the best possible arrangement which
+takes us away."
+
+"If I like it!" said Lady Clonbrony; "to be sure I do, or I should
+not propose it. What is Colambre thinking of? I know, Grace, at all
+events, what you and I must think of--of having the furniture packed
+up, and settling what's to go, and what's to be exchanged, and all
+that. Now, my dear, go and write a note directly to Mr. Soho, and bid
+him come himself, immediately: and we'll go and make out a catalogue
+this instant of what furniture I will have packed."
+
+So with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired. "I go to
+my business, Colambre: and I leaven you to settle yours in peace."
+
+In peace!--Never was our hero's mind less at peace than at this
+moment. The more his heart felt that it was painful, the more his
+reason told him it was necessary that he should part from Grace
+Nugent. To his union with her there was an obstacle which his prudence
+told him ought to be insurmountable; yet he felt that, during the few
+days he had been with her, the few hours he had been near her, he
+had, with his utmost power over himself, scarcely been master of his
+passion, or capable of concealing its object. It could not have been
+done but for her perfect simplicity and innocence. But how could this
+be supported on his part? How could he venture to live with this
+charming girl? How could he settle at home? What resource?
+
+His mind turned towards the army: he thought that abroad, and in
+active life, he should lose all the painful recollections, and drive
+from his heart all the sentiments, which could now be only a source of
+unavailing regret. But his mother--his mother, who had now yielded her
+own taste to his entreaties, for the good of her family--she expected
+him to return and live with her in Ireland. Though not actually
+promised or specified, he knew that she took it for granted; that it
+was upon this hope, this faith, she consented: he knew that she would
+be shocked at the bare idea of his going into the army. There was one
+chance--our hero tried, at this moment, to think it the best possible
+chance--that Miss Nugent might marry Mr. Salisbury, and settle in
+England. On this idea he relied, as the only means of extricating him
+from difficulties.
+
+It was necessary to turn his thoughts immediately to business, to
+execute his promises to his father. Two great objects were now to be
+accomplished--the payment of his father's debts, and the settlement
+of the Irish agent's accounts; and, in transacting this complicated
+business, he derived considerable assistance from Sir Terence O'Fay,
+and from Sir Arthur Berryl's solicitor, Mr. Edwards. Whilst acting for
+Sir Arthur, on a former occasion, Lord Colambre had gained the entire
+confidence of this solicitor, who was a man of the first eminence. Mr.
+Edwards took the papers and Lord Clonbrony's title-deeds home with
+him, saying that he would give an answer the next morning. He then
+waited upon Lord Colambre, and informed him that he had just received
+a letter from Sir Arthur Berryl, who, with the consent and desire of
+his lady, requested that whatever money might be required by Lord
+Clonbrony should be immediately supplied on their account, without
+waiting till Lord Colambre should be of age, as the ready money might
+be of some convenience to him in accelerating the journey to Ireland,
+which Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl knew was his lordship's object. Sir
+Terence O'Fay now supplied Mr. Edwards with accurate information as to
+the demands that were made upon Lord Clonbrony, and of the respective
+characters of the creditors. Mr. Edwards undertook to settle with
+the fair claimants; Sir Terence with the rogues: so that by the
+advancement of ready money from _the Berryls_, and by the detection
+of false and exaggerated charges which Sir Terence made among the
+inferior class, the debts were reduced nearly to one-half of their
+former amount. Mordicai, who had been foiled in his vile attempt
+to become sole creditor, had, however, a demand of more than seven
+thousand pounds upon Lord Clonbrony, which he had raised to this
+enormous sum in six or seven years, by means well known to himself. He
+stood the foremost in the list: not from the greatness of the sum; but
+from the danger of his adding to it the expenses of law. Sir Terence
+undertook to pay the whole with five thousand pounds. Lord Clonbrony
+thought it impossible: the solicitor thought it improvident, because
+he knew that upon a trial a much greater abatement would be allowed;
+but Lord Colambre was determined, from the present embarrassments of
+his own situation, to leave nothing undone that could be accomplished
+immediately.
+
+Sir Terence, pleased with his commission, immediately went to
+Mordicai.
+
+"Well, Sir Terence," said Mordicai, "I hope you are come to pay me my
+hundred guineas; for Miss Broadhurst is married!"
+
+"Well, Mister Mordicai, what then? The ides of March are come, but
+not gone! Stay, if you plase, Mister Mordicai, till Lady-day, when it
+becomes due: in the mean time, I have a handful, or rather an armful,
+of bank-notes for you, from my Lord Colambre."
+
+"Humph." said Mordicai: "how's that? he'll not be of age these three
+days."
+
+"Don't matter for that: he has sent me to look over your accounts, and
+to hope that you will make some small ABATEMENT in the total."
+
+"Harkee, Sir Terence--you think yourself very clever in things of this
+sort, but you've mistaken your man: I have an execution for the whole,
+and I'll be d----d if all your cunning shall MAKE me take up with
+part!"
+
+"Be _aisy_, Mister Mordicai!--you sha'n't make me break your bones,
+nor make me drop one actionable word against your high character; for
+I know your clerk there, with that long goose-quill behind his ear,
+would be ready evidence again' me. But I beg to know, in one word,
+whether you will take five thousand down, and GIVE Lord Clonbrony a
+discharge?"
+
+"No, Mr. Terence! nor six thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine
+pounds. My demand is seven thousand one hundred and thirty pounds,
+odd shillings: if you have that money, pay it; if not, I know how to
+get it, and along with it complete revenge for all the insults I have
+received from that greenhorn, his son."
+
+"Paddy Brady!" cried Sir Terence, "do you hear that? Remember that
+word _revenge_!--Mind I call you to witness!"
+
+"What, sir, will you raise a rebellion among my workmen?"
+
+"No, Mr. Mordicai, no rebellion; and I hope you won't cut the boy's
+ears off for listening to a little of the brogue--so listen, my good
+lad. Now, Mr. Mordicai, I offer you here, before little goosequill,
+5000_l._ ready penny--take it, or leave it: take your money, and leave
+your revenge; or take your revenge, and lose your money."
+
+"Sir Terence, I value neither your threats nor your cunning. Good
+morning to you."
+
+"Good morning to you, Mr. Mordicai--but not kindly! Mr. Edwards, the
+solicitor, has been at the office to take off the execution: so now
+you may have law to your heart's content! And it was only to plase the
+young lord that the _ould_ one consented to my carrying this bundle to
+you," showing the bank-notes.
+
+"Mr. Edwards employed!" cried Mordicai. "Why, how the devil did Lord
+Clonbrony get into such hands as his? The execution taken off! Well,
+sir, go to law--I am ready for you. Jack Latitat IS A MATCH for your
+sober solicitor."
+
+"Good morning again to you, Mr. Mordicai: we're fairly out of your
+clutches, and we have enough to do with our money."
+
+"Well, Sir Terence, I must allow you have a very wheedling way--Here,
+Mr. Thompson, make out a receipt for Lord Clonbrony: I never go to law
+with an old customer, if I can help it."
+
+This business settled, Mr. Soho was next to be dealt with.
+
+He came at Lady Clonbrony's summons; and was taking directions with
+the utmost _sang froid_, for packing up and sending off the very
+furniture for which he was not paid.
+
+Lord Colambre called him into his father's study; and, producing his
+bill, he began to point out various articles which were charged at
+prices that were obviously extravagant.
+
+"Why, really, my lord, they are _abundantly_ extravagant: if I charged
+vulgar prices, I should be only a vulgar tradesman. I, however, am not
+a broker, nor a Jew. Of the article superintendence, which is only
+500_l._, I cannot abate a doit: on the rest of the bill, if you mean
+to offer _ready_, I mean, without any negotiation, to abate thirty per
+cent., and I hope that is a fair and gentlemanly offer."
+
+"Mr. Soho, there is your money!"
+
+"My Lord Colambre! I would give the contents of three such bills to be
+sure of such noblemanly conduct as yours. Lady Clonbrony's furniture
+shall be safely packed, without costing her a farthing."
+
+With the help of Mr. Edwards, the solicitor, every other claim was
+soon settled; and Lord Clonbrony, for the first time since he left
+Ireland, found himself out of debt, and out of danger.
+
+Old Nick's account could not be settled in London. Lord Colambre had
+detected numerous false charges, and sundry impositions: the land,
+which had been purposely let to run wild, so far from yielding any
+rent, was made a source of constant expense, as remaining still unset:
+this was a large tract, for which St. Dennis had at length offered a
+small rent.
+
+Upon a fair calculation of the profits of the ground, and from other
+items in the account, Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., appeared at last
+to be, not the creditor, but the debtor to Lord Clonbrony. He was
+dismissed with disgrace; which perhaps he might not have felt, if
+it had not been accompanied by pecuniary loss, and followed by the
+fear of losing his other agencies, and by the dread of immediate
+bankruptcy.
+
+Mr. Burke was appointed agent in his stead to the Clonbrony as well
+as the Colambre estate. His appointment was announced to him by the
+following letter:--
+
+    "TO MRS. BURKE, AT COLAMBRE.
+
+    "DEAR MADAM,
+
+    "The traveller whom you so hospitably received some months ago
+    was Lord Colambre; he now writes to you in his proper person. He
+    promised you that he would, as far as it might be in his power, do
+    justice to Mr. Burke's conduct and character, by representing what
+    he had done for Lord Clonbrony in the town of Colambre, and in the
+    whole management of the tenantry and property under his care.
+
+    "Happily for my father, my dear madam, he is now as fully
+    convinced as you could wish him to be of Mr. Burke's merits; and
+    he begs me to express his sense of the obligations he is under to
+    him and to you. He entreats that you will pardon the impropriety
+    of a letter, which, as I assured you the moment I saw it, he never
+    wrote or read.
+
+    "He hopes that you will forget that such a letter was ever
+    received, and that you will use your influence with Mr. Burke
+    to induce him to continue to our family his regard and valuable
+    services. Lord Clonbrony encloses a power of attorney, enabling
+    Mr. Burke to act in future for him, if Mr. Burke will do him that
+    favour, in managing the Clonbrony as well as the Colambre estate.
+
+    "Lord Clonbrony will be in Ireland in the course of next month,
+    and intends to have the pleasure of soon paying his respects in
+    person to Mr. Burke, at Colambre.
+
+    "I am, dear madam,
+
+    "Your obliged guest,
+
+    "And faithful servant,
+
+    "COLAMBRE.
+
+    "_Grosvenor-square, London_."
+
+Lord Colambre was so continually occupied with business, during the
+days previous to his coming of age, every morning at his solicitor's
+chambers, every evening in his father's study, that Miss Nugent never
+saw him but at breakfast or dinner; and, though she watched for it
+most anxiously, never could find an opportunity of speaking to him
+alone, or of asking an explanation of the change and inconsistencies
+of his manner. At last, she began to think, that, in the midst of so
+much business of importance, by which he seemed harassed, she should
+do wrong to torment him, by speaking of any small uneasiness that
+concerned only herself. She determined to suppress her doubts, to
+keep her feelings to herself, and endeavour, by constant kindness, to
+regain that place in his affections, which she imagined that she had
+lost. "Every thing will go right again," thought she, "and we shall
+all be happy, when he returns with us to Ireland--to that dear home
+which he loves as well as I do!"
+
+The day Lord Colambre was of age, the first thing he did was, to sign
+a bond for five thousand pounds, Miss Nugent's fortune, which had been
+lent to his father, who was her guardian.
+
+"This, sir, I believe," said he, giving it to his father as soon as
+signed, "this, I believe, is the first debt you would wish to have
+secured."
+
+"Well thought of, my dear boy!--God bless you!--that has weighed more
+upon my conscience and heart than all the rest, though I never said
+any thing about it. I used, whenever I met Mr. Salisbury, to wish
+myself fairly down at the centre of the earth: not that he ever
+thought of fortune, I'm sure; for he often told me, and I believed
+him, he would rather have Miss Nugent without a penny, if he could get
+her, than the first fortune in the empire. But I'm glad she will not
+go to him pennyless, for all that; and by my fault, especially. There,
+there's my name to it--do witness it, Terry. But, Colambre, you must
+give it to her--you must take it to Grace."
+
+"Excuse me, sir; it is no gift of mine--it is a debt of yours. I beg
+you will take the bond to her yourself, my dear father."
+
+"My dear son, you must not always have your own way, and hide every
+thing good you do, or give me the honour of it--I won't be the jay in
+borrowed feathers. I have borrowed enough in my life, and I've done
+with borrowing now, thanks to you, Colambre--so come along with me;
+for I'll be hanged if ever I give this joint bond to Miss Nugent,
+unless you are with me. Leave Lady Clonbrony here to sign these
+papers. Terry will witness them properly, and do you come along with
+me."
+
+"And pray, my lord," said her ladyship, "order the carriage to the
+door; for, as soon as you have my signature, I hope you'll let me off
+to Buxton."
+
+"Oh, certainly--the carriage is ordered--every thing ready, my dear."
+
+"And pray tell Grace to be ready," added Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"That's not necessary; for she is always ready," said Lord Clonbrony.
+"Come, Colambre," added he, taking his son under the arm, and carrying
+him up to Miss Nugent's dressing-room.
+
+They knocked, and were admitted.
+
+"Ready!" said Lord Clonbrony; "ay, always ready--so I said. Here's
+Colambre, my darling," continued he, "has secured your fortune to you
+to my heart's content; but he would not condescend to come up to tell
+you so, till I made him. Here's the bond; and now, all I have to ask
+of you, Colambre, is, to persuade her to marry out of hand, that I
+may see her happy before I die. Now my heart's at ease; I can meet
+Mr. Salisbury with a safe conscience. One kiss, my little Grace. If
+any body can persuade you, I'm sure it's that man that's now leaning
+against the mantel-piece. It's Colambre will, or your heart's not made
+like mine--so I leave you."
+
+And out of the room walked he, leaving his poor son in as awkward,
+embarrassing, and painful a situation as could well be conceived. Half
+a dozen indistinct ideas crossed his mind; quick conflicting feelings
+made his heart beat and stop. And how it would have ended, if he had
+been left to himself; whether he would have stood or fallen, have
+spoken or have continued silent, can never now be known, for all was
+decided without the action of his will. He was awakened from his
+trance by these simple words from Miss Nugent: "I'm much obliged
+to you, cousin Colambre--more obliged to you for your kindness in
+thinking of me first, in the midst of all your other business, than by
+your securing my fortune. Friendship--and your friendship--is worth
+more to me than fortune. May I believe that is secured?"
+
+"Believe it! Oh, Grace, can you doubt it?"
+
+"I will not; it would make me too unhappy, I will not."
+
+"You need not."
+
+"That is enough--I am satisfied--I ask no farther explanation. You are
+truth itself--one word from you is security sufficient. We are friends
+for life," said she; "are not we?"
+
+"We are--and therefore sit down, cousin Grace, and let me claim the
+privilege of friendship, and speak to you of him who aspires to be
+more than your friend for life, Mr.--"
+
+"Mr. Salisbury!" said Miss Nugent; "I saw him yesterday. We had a very
+long conversation; I believe he understands my sentiments perfectly,
+and that he no longer thinks of being more to me than a friend for
+life."
+
+"You have refused him!"
+
+"Yes. I have a high opinion of Mr. Salisbury's understanding, a great
+esteem for his character; I like his manners and conversation; but I
+do not love him, and, therefore, you know, I could not marry him."
+
+"But, my dear Miss Nugent, with a high opinion, a great esteem, and
+liking his manners and conversation, in such a well-regulated mind as
+yours, can there be a better foundation for love?"
+
+"It is an excellent foundation," said she; "but I never went any
+farther than the foundation; and, indeed, I never wished to proceed
+any farther."
+
+Lord Colambre scarcely dared to ask why; but after some pause he said,
+"I don't wish to intrude upon your confidence."
+
+"You cannot intrude upon my confidence; I am ready to give it to
+you entirely, frankly; I hesitated only because another person was
+concerned. Do you remember, at my aunt's gala, a lady who danced with
+Mr. Salisbury?"
+
+"Not in the least."
+
+"A lady with whom you and Mr. Salisbury were talking, just before
+supper, in the Turkish tent."
+
+"Not in the least."
+
+"As we went down to supper, you told me you had had a delightful
+conversation with her; that you thought her a charming woman."
+
+"A charming woman!--I have not the slightest recollection of her."
+
+"And you told me that she and Mr. Salisbury had been praising me _à
+l'envie l'une de l'autre_."
+
+"Oh, I recollect her now perfectly," said Lord Colambre: "but what of
+her?"
+
+"She is the woman who, I hope, will be Mrs. Salisbury. Ever since I
+have been acquainted with them both, I have seen that they were suited
+to each other; I fancy, indeed I am almost sure, that she could
+love him, tenderly love him--and, I know, I could not. But my own
+sentiments, you may be sure, are all I ever told Mr. Salisbury."
+
+"But of your own sentiments you may not be sure," said Lord
+Colambre; "and I see no reason why you should give him up from false
+generosity."
+
+"Generosity!" interrupted Miss Nugent; "you totally misunderstand
+me; there is no generosity, nothing for me to give up in the case. I
+did not refuse Mr. Salisbury from generosity, but because I did not
+love him. Perhaps my seeing early what I have just mentioned to you
+prevented me from thinking of him as a lover; but, from whatever
+cause, I certainly never felt love for Mr. Salisbury, nor any of that
+pity which is said to lead to love: perhaps," added she, smiling,
+"because I was aware that he would be so much better off after I
+refused him--so much happier with one suited to him in age, talents,
+fortune, and love--'What bliss, did he but know his bliss,' were
+_his_.'"
+
+"Did he but know his bliss!" repeated Lord Colambre; "but is not he
+the best judge of his own bliss?"
+
+"And am not I the best judge of mine?" said Miss Nugent: "I go no
+farther."
+
+"You are; and I have no right to go farther. Yet, this much permit me
+to say, my dear Grace, that it would give me sincere pleasure, that
+is, real satisfaction, to see you happily--established."
+
+"Thank you, my dear Lord Colambre; but you spoke that like a man of
+seventy at least, with the most solemn gravity of demeanour."
+
+"I meant to be serious, not solemn," said Lord Colambre, endeavouring
+to change his tone.
+
+"There now," said she, in a playful tone, "you have _seriously_
+accomplished the task my good uncle set you; so I will report well of
+you to him, and certify that you did all that in you lay to exhort me
+to marry; that you have even assured me that it would give you sincere
+pleasure, that is, real satisfaction, to see me happily established."
+
+"Oh, Grace, if you knew how much I felt when I said that, you would
+spare this raillery."
+
+"I will be serious--I am most seriously convinced of the sincerity of
+your affection for me; I know my happiness is your object in all you
+have said, and I thank you from my heart for the interest you take
+about me. But really and truly I do not wish to marry. This is not a
+mere commonplace speech; but I have not yet seen any man I could love.
+I am happy as I am, especially now we are all going to dear Ireland,
+home, to live together: you cannot conceive with what pleasure I look
+forward to that."
+
+Lord Colambre was not vain; but love quickly sees love, or foresees
+the probability, the possibility, of its existence. He saw that Miss
+Nugent might love him tenderly, passionately; but that duty, habit,
+the prepossession that it was impossible she could marry her cousin
+Colambre,--a prepossession instilled into her by his mother--had
+absolutely prevented her from ever yet thinking of him as a lover. He
+saw the hazard for her, he felt the danger for himself. Never had she
+appeared to him so attractive as at this moment, when he felt the hope
+that he could obtain return of love.
+
+"But St. Omar!--Why! why is she a St. Omar?--illegitimate!--'No St.
+Omar _sans reproche_.' My wife she cannot be--I will not engage her
+affections."
+
+Swift as thoughts in moments of strong feeling pass in the mind
+without being put into words, our hero thought all this, and
+determined, cost what it would, to act honourably.
+
+"You spoke of my returning to Ireland, my dear Grace. I have not yet
+told you my plans."
+
+"Plans! are not you returning with us?" said she, precipitately; "are
+not you going to Ireland--home--with us?"
+
+"No:--I am going to serve a campaign or two abroad. I think every
+young man in these times--
+
+"Good Heavens! What does this mean? What can you mean?" cried she,
+fixing her eyes upon his, as if she would read his very soul. "Why?
+what reason?--Oh, tell me the truth--and at once."
+
+His change of colour--his hand that trembled, and withdrew from
+hers--the expression of his eyes as they met hers--revealed the truth
+to her at once. As it flashed across her mind, she started back; her
+face grew crimson, and, in the same instant, pale as death.
+
+"Yes--you see, you feel the truth now," said Lord Colambre. "You see,
+you feel, that I love you--passionately."
+
+"Oh, let me not hear it!" said she; "I must not--ought not. Never
+till this moment did such a thought cross my mind--I thought it
+impossible--Oh, make me think so still."
+
+"I will--it _is_ impossible that we can ever he united."
+
+"I always thought so," said she, taking breath with a deep sigh.
+"Then, why not live as we have lived?"
+
+"I cannot--I cannot answer for myself--I will not run the risk;
+and therefore I must quit you, knowing, as I do, that there is an
+invincible obstacle to our union; of what nature I cannot explain; I
+beg you not to inquire."
+
+"You need not beg it--I shall not inquire--I have no curiosity--none,"
+said she in a passive, dejected tone; "that is not what I am thinking
+of in the least. I know there are invincible obstacles; I wish it to
+be so. But, if invincible, you who have so much sense, honour, and
+virtue--"
+
+"I hope, my dear cousin, that I have honour and virtue. But there
+are temptations to which no wise, no good man will expose himself.
+Innocent creature! you do not know the power of love. I rejoice that
+you have always thought it impossible--think so still--it will save
+you from--all I must endure. Think of me but as your cousin, your
+friend--give your heart to some happier man. As your friend, your true
+friend, I conjure you, give your heart to some more fortunate man.
+Marry, if you can feel love--marry, and be happy. Honour! virtue!
+Yes, I have both, and I will not forfeit them. Yes, I will merit your
+esteem and my own--by actions, not words; and I give you the strongest
+proof, by tearing myself from you at this moment. Farewell!"
+
+"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent, and my lady calling for you,"
+said her maid. "Here's your key, ma'am, and here's your gloves, my
+dear ma'am."
+
+"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent," said Lady Clonbrony's woman,
+coming eagerly with parcels in her hand, as Miss Nugent passed
+her, and ran down stairs; "and I don't know where I laid my lady's
+_numbrella_, for my life--do you, Anne?"
+
+"No, indeed--but I know here's my own young lady's watch that she has
+left. Bless me! I never knew her to forget any thing on a journey
+before."
+
+"Then she is going to be married, as sure as my name's Le Maistre, and
+to my Lord Colambre; for he has been here this hour, to my certain
+Bible knowledge. Oh, you'll see she will be Lady Colambre."
+
+"I wish she may, with all my heart," said Anne; "but I must run
+down--they're waiting."
+
+"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Le Maistre, seizing Anne's arm, and holding her
+fast; "stay--you may safely--for they're all kissing and taking
+leave, and all that, you know; and _my_ lady is talking on about
+Mr. Soho, and giving a hundred directions about legs of tables, and
+so forth, I warrant--she's always an hour after she's ready before
+she gets in--and I'm looking for the _numbrella_. So stay, and
+tell me--Mrs. Petito wrote over word it was to be Lady Isabel; and
+then a contradiction came--it was turned into the youngest of the
+Killpatricks; and now here he's in Miss Nugent's dressing-room to the
+last moment. Now, in my opinion, that am not censorious, this does not
+look so pretty; but, according to my verdict, he is only making a fool
+of Miss Nugent, like the rest; and his lordship seems too like what
+you might call a male _cocket_, or a masculine jilt."
+
+"No more like a masculine jilt than yourself, Mrs. Le Maistre," cried
+Anne, taking fire. "And my young lady is not a lady to be made a fool
+of, I promise you; nor is my lord likely to make a fool of any woman."
+
+"Bless us all! that's no great praise for any young nobleman, Miss
+Anne."
+
+"Mrs. Le Maistre! Mrs. Le Maistre! are you above?" cried a footman
+from the bottom of the stairs: "my lady's calling for you."
+
+"Very well! Very well!" said sharp Mrs. Le Maistre; "Very well! and
+if she is--manners, sir!--Come up for one, can't you, and don't stand
+bawling at the bottom of the stairs, as if one had no ears to be
+saved. I'm coming as fast as I can--conveniently can."
+
+Mrs. Le Maistre stood in the door-way, so as to fill it up, and
+prevent Anne from passing.
+
+"Miss Anne! Miss Anne! Mrs. Le Maistre!" cried another footman; "my
+lady's in the carriage, and Miss Nugent."
+
+"Miss Nugent!--is she?" cried Mrs. Le Maistre, running down stairs,
+followed by Anne. "Now, for the world in pocket-pieces wouldn't I have
+missed seeing him hand Miss Nugent in; for by that I could have judged
+definitively."
+
+"My lord, I beg pardon!--I'm _afeard_ I'm late," said Mrs. Le Maistre,
+as she passed Lord Colambre, who was standing motionless in the hall.
+"I beg a thousand pardons; but I was hunting, high and low, for my
+lady's _numbrella_." Lord Colambre did not hear or heed her: his eyes
+were fixed, and they never moved.
+
+Lord Clonbrony was at the open carriage-door, kneeling on the step,
+and receiving Lady Clonbrony's "more last words" for Mr. Soho. The two
+waiting-maids stood together on the steps.
+
+"Look at our young lord, how he stands," whispered Mrs. Le Maistre to
+Anne, "the image of despair! And she, the picture of death!--I don't
+know what to think."
+
+"Nor I: but don't stare, if you can help it," said Anne. "Get in, get
+in, Mrs. Le Maistre," added she, as Lord Clonbrony now rose from the
+step, and made way for them.
+
+"Ay, in with you--in with you, Mrs. Le Maistre," said Lord Clonbrony.
+"Good bye to you, Anne, and take care of your young mistress at
+Buxton: let me see her blooming when we meet again; I don't half like
+her looks, and I never thought Buxton agreed with her."
+
+"Buxton never did any body harm," said Lady Clonbrony: "and as
+to bloom, I'm sure, if Grace has not bloom enough in her cheeks
+this moment to please you, I don't know what you'd have, my dear
+lord--Rouge?--Shut the door, John! Oh, stay!--Colambre!--Where upon
+earth's Colambre?" cried her ladyship, stretching from the farthest
+side of the coach to the window.--"Colambre!"
+
+Colambre was forced to appear.
+
+"Colambre, my dear! I forgot to say, that, if any thing detains you
+longer than Wednesday se'nnight, I beg you will not fail to write, or
+I shall be miserable."
+
+"I will write: at all events, my dearest mother, you shall hear from
+me."
+
+"Then I shall be quite happy. Go on!"
+
+The carriage drove on.
+
+"I do believe Colambre's ill: I never saw a man look so ill in my
+life--did you, Grace?--as he did the minute we drove on. He should
+take advice. I've a mind," cried Lady Clonbrony, laying her hand on
+the cord, to stop the coachman, "I've a mind to turn about--tell him
+so--and ask what is the matter with him."
+
+"Better not!" said Miss Nugent: "he will write to you, and tell
+you--if any thing is the matter with him. Better go on now to Buxton!"
+continued she, scarcely able to speak. Lady Clonbrony let go the cord.
+
+"But what is the matter with you, my dear Grace? for you are certainly
+going to die too!"
+
+"I will tell you--as soon as I can; but don't ask me now, my dear
+aunt!"
+
+"Grace, Grace! pull the cord!" cried Lady Clonbrony--"Mr. Salisbury's
+phaeton!--Mr. Salisbury, I'm happy to see you! We're on our way to
+Buxton--as I told you."
+
+"So am I," said Mr. Salisbury. "I hope to be there before your
+ladyship: will you honour me with any commands?--of course, I will see
+that every thing is ready for your reception."
+
+Her ladyship had not any commands. Mr. Salisbury drove on rapidly.
+
+Lady Clonbrony's ideas had now taken the Salisbury channel. "You
+didn't know that Mr. Salisbury was going to Buxton to meet you, did
+you, Grace?" said Lady Clonbrony.
+
+"No, indeed, I did not!" said Miss Nugent; "and I am very sorry for
+it."
+
+"Young ladies, as Mrs. Broadhurst says, 'never know, or at least never
+tell, what they are sorry or glad for,'" replied Lady Clonbrony. "At
+all events, Grace, my love, it has brought the fine bloom back to your
+cheeks; and I own I am satisfied."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+"Gone! for ever gone from me!" said Lord Colambre to himself, as the
+carriage drove away. "Never shall I see her more--never _will_ I see
+her more, till she is married."
+
+Lord Colambre went to his own room, locked the door, and was relieved
+in some degree by the sense of privacy; by the feeling that he could
+now indulge his reflections undisturbed. He had consolation--he had
+done what was honourable--he had transgressed no duty, abandoned no
+principle--he had not injured the happiness of any human being--he
+had not, to gratify himself, hazarded the peace of the woman he
+loved--he had not sought to win her heart. Of her innocent, her warm,
+susceptible heart, he might, perhaps, have robbed her--he knew it--but
+he had left it untouched, he hoped entire, in her own power, to bless
+with it hereafter some man worthy of her. In the hope that she might
+be happy, Lord Colambre felt relief; and in the consciousness that
+he had made his parents happy, he rejoiced; but, as soon as his mind
+turned that way for consolation, came the bitter reflection, that his
+mother must be disappointed in her hopes of his accompanying her home,
+and of his living with her in Ireland: she would be miserable when she
+should hear that he was going abroad into the army--and yet it must be
+so--and he must write, and tell her so. "The sooner this difficulty is
+off my mind, the sooner this painful letter is written, the better,"
+thought he. "It must be done--I will do it immediately."
+
+He snatched up his pen, and began a letter.
+
+"My dear mother, Miss Nugent--" He was interrupted by a knock at his
+door.
+
+"A gentleman below, my lord." said a servant, "who wishes to see you."
+
+"I cannot see any gentleman. Did you say I was at home?"
+
+"No, my lord, I said you was not at home; for I thought you would not
+choose to be at home, and your own man was not in the way for me to
+ask--so I denied you: but the gentleman would not be denied; he said
+I must come and see if you was at home. So, as he spoke as if he was
+a gentleman not used to be denied, I thought it might be somebody of
+consequence, and I showed him into the front drawing-room. I think he
+said he was sure you'd be at home for a friend from Ireland."
+
+"A friend from Ireland! Why did not you tell me that sooner?" said
+Lord Colambre, rising, and running down stairs. "Sir James Brooke, I
+dare say."
+
+No, not Sir James Brooke; but one he was almost as glad to see--Count
+O'Halloran!
+
+"My dear count! the greater pleasure for being unexpected."
+
+"I came to London but yesterday," said the count; "but I could not be
+here a day, without doing myself the honour of paying my respects to
+Lord Colambre."
+
+"You do me not only honour, but pleasure, my dear count. People, when
+they like one another, always find each other out, and contrive to
+meet, even in London."
+
+"You are too polite to ask what brought such a superannuated militaire
+as I am," said the count, "from his retirement into this gay world
+again. A relation of mine, who is one of the ministry, knew that I had
+some maps, and plans, and charts, which might be serviceable in an
+expedition they are planning. I might have trusted my charts across
+the channel, without coming myself to convoy them, you will say. But
+my relation fancied--young relations, you know, if they are good for
+any thing, are apt to overvalue the heads of old relations--fancied
+that mine was worth bringing all the way from Halloran Castle to
+London, to consult with _tête-à-tête_. So, you know, when this was
+signified to me by a letter from the secretary in office, _private,
+most confidential_, what could I do, but do myself the honour to
+obey? For though honour's voice cannot provoke the silent dust, yet
+'flattery soothes the dull cold ear of _age_.'--But enough and too
+much of myself," said the count: "tell me, my dear lord, something of
+yourself. I do not think England seems to agree with you so well as
+Ireland; for, excuse me, in point of health, you don't look like the
+same man I saw some weeks ago."
+
+"My mind has been ill at ease of late," said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Ay, there's the thing! The body pays for the mind--but those who
+have feeling minds, pain and pleasure altogether computed, have the
+advantage; or at least they think so; for they would not change with
+those who have them not, were they to gain by the bargain the most
+robust body that the most selfish coxcomb, or the heaviest dunce
+extant, ever boasted. For instance, would you now, my lord, at this
+moment, change altogether with Major Benson, or Captain Williamson, or
+even with our friend, 'Eh, really now, 'pon honour'--would you?--I'm
+glad to see you smile."
+
+"I thank you for making me smile, for I assure you I want it. I
+wish--if you would not think me encroaching upon your politeness in
+honouring me with this visit--You see," continued he, opening the
+doors of the back drawing-room, and pointing to large packages, "you
+see we are all preparing for a march: my mother has left town half an
+hour ago--my father engaged to dine abroad--only I at home--and, in
+this state of confusion, could I even venture to ask Count O'Halloran
+to stay and dine with me, without being able to offer him Irish
+ortolans or Irish plums--in short, will you let me rob you of two
+or three hours of your time? I am anxious to have your opinion on a
+subject of some importance to me, and on one where you are peculiarly
+qualified to judge and decide for me."
+
+"My dear lord, frankly, I have nothing half so good or so agreeable to
+do with my time; command my hours. I have already told you how much it
+flatters me to be consulted by the most helpless clerk in office; how
+much more about the private concerns of an enlightened young-friend,
+will Lord Colambre permit me to say? I hope so; for, though the
+length of our acquaintance might not justify the word, yet regard and
+intimacy are not always in proportion to the time people have known
+each other, but to their mutual perception of certain attaching
+qualities, a certain similarity and suitableness of character."
+
+The good count, seeing that Lord Colambre was in much distress of
+mind, did all he could to soothe him by kindness: far from making any
+difficulty about giving up a few hours of his time, he seemed to have
+no other object in London, and no purpose in life, but to attend to
+our hero. To put him at ease, and to give him time to recover and
+arrange his thoughts, the count talked of indifferent subjects.
+
+"I think I heard you mention the name of Sir James Brooke."
+
+"Yes, I expected to have seen him when the servant first mentioned a
+friend from Ireland; because Sir James had told me that, as soon as he
+could get leave of absence, he would come to England."
+
+"He is come; is now at his estate in Huntingdonshire; doing, what
+do you think? I will give you a leading hint; recollect the seal
+which the little De Cressy put into your hands the day you dined
+at Oranmore. Faithful to his motto, 'Deeds, not words,' he is this
+instant, I believe, at deeds, title deeds; making out marriage
+settlements, getting ready to put his seal to the happy articles."
+
+"Happy man! I give him joy," said Lord Colambre: "happy man! going to
+be married to such a woman--daughter of such a mother."
+
+"Daughter of such a mother! That is indeed a great addition and a
+great security to his happiness," said the count. "Such a family
+to marry into; good from generation to generation; illustrious by
+character as well as by genealogy; 'all the sons brave, and all the
+daughters chaste.'"
+
+Lord Colambre with difficulty repressed his feelings. "If I could
+choose," said the count, "I would rather that a woman I loved were of
+such a family than that she had for her dower the mines of Peru."
+
+"So would I," cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, and with such energy; so few
+young men of the present day look to what I call good connexion. In
+marrying, a man does not, to be sure, marry his wife's mother; and yet
+a prudent man, when he begins to think of the daughter, would look
+sharp at the mother; ay, and back to the grandmother too, and along
+the whole female line of ancestry."
+
+"True--most true--he ought--he must."
+
+"And I have a notion," said the count, smiling, "your lordship's
+practice has been conformable to your theory."
+
+"I!--mine!" said Lord Colambre, starting, and looking at the count
+with surprise.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said the count; "I did not intend to surprise
+your confidence. But you forget that I was present, and saw the
+impression which was made on your mind by a mother's want of a proper
+sense of delicacy and propriety--Lady Dashfort."
+
+"Oh, Lady Dashfort! she was quite out of my head."
+
+"And Lady Isabel?--I hope she is quite out of your heart."
+
+"She never was in it," said Lord Colambre. "Only laid siege to it,"
+said the count. "Well, I am glad your heart did not surrender at
+discretion, or rather without discretion. Then I may tell you, without
+fear or preface, that the Lady Isabel, who talks of 'refinement,
+delicacy, sense,' is going to stoop at once, and marry--Heathcock."
+Lord Colambre was not surprised, but concerned and disgusted, as
+he always felt, even when he did not care for the individual, from
+hearing any thing which tended to lower the female sex in public
+estimation.
+
+"As to myself," said he, "I cannot say I have had an escape, for I
+don't think I ever was in much danger."
+
+"It is difficult to measure danger when it is over--past danger, like
+past pain, is soon forgotten," said the old general. "At all events, I
+rejoice in your present safety."
+
+"But is she really going to be married to Heathcock?" said Lord
+Colambre.
+
+"Positively: they all came over in the same packet with me, and
+they are all in town now, buying jewels, and equipages, and horses.
+Heathcock, you know, is as good as another man for all those
+purposes: his father is dead, and has left him a large estate. _Que
+voulez-vous?_ as the French valet said to me on the occasion, _c'est
+que monsieur est un homme de bien: il a des biens, à ce qu'on dit._"
+
+Lord Colambre could not help smiling.
+
+"How they got Heathcock to fall in love is what puzzles me," said his
+lordship. "I should as soon have thought of an oyster's falling in
+love as that being."
+
+"I own I should have sooner thought," replied the count, "of his
+falling in love with an oyster; and so would you, if you had seen him,
+as I did, devouring oysters on shipboard.
+
+ "'Say, can the lovely _heroine_ hope to vie
+   With a fat turtle or a ven'son pie?'
+
+"But that is not our affair; let the Lady Isabel look to it."
+
+Dinner was announced; and no farther conversation of any consequence
+passed between the count and Lord Colambre till the cloth was removed
+and the servants had withdrawn. Then our hero opened on the subject
+which was heavy at his heart.
+
+"My dear count--I have a mind to serve a campaign or two, if I could
+get a commission in a regiment going to Spain; but I understand so
+many are eager to go at this moment, that it is very difficult to get
+a commission in such a regiment."
+
+"It is difficult," said the count. "But," added he, after thinking for
+a moment, "I have it! I can get the thing done for you, and directly.
+Major Benson, who is in danger of being broke, in consequence of that
+affair, you know, about his mistress, wants to sell out; and that
+regiment is to be ordered immediately to Spain: I will have the thing
+done for you, if you request it."
+
+"First, give me your advice, Count O'Halloran: you are well acquainted
+with the military profession, with military life. Would you advise
+me--I won't speak of myself, because we judge better by general views
+than by particular cases--would you advise a young man at present to
+go into the army?"
+
+The count was silent for a few minutes, and then replied: "Since
+you seriously ask my opinion, my lord, I must lay aside my own
+prepossessions, and endeavour to speak with impartiality. To go into
+the army in these days, my lord, is, in my sober opinion, the most
+absurd and base, or the wisest and noblest thing a young man can do.
+To enter into the army, with the hope of escaping from the application
+necessary to acquire knowledge, letters, and science--I run no risk,
+my lord, in saying this to you--to go into the army, with the hope of
+escaping from knowledge, letters, science, and morality; to wear a red
+coat and an epaulette; to be called captain; to figure at a ball; to
+lounge away time in country sports, at country quarters, was never,
+even in times of peace, creditable; but it is now absurd and base.
+Submitting to a certain portion of ennui and contempt, this mode
+of life for an officer was formerly practicable--but now cannot be
+submitted to without utter, irremediable disgrace. Officers are now,
+in general, men of education and information; want of knowledge,
+sense, manners, must consequently be immediately detected, ridiculed,
+and despised, in a military man. Of this we have not long since seen
+lamentable examples in the raw officers who have lately disgraced
+themselves in my neighbourhood in Ireland--that Major Benson and
+Captain Williamson. But I will not advert to such insignificant
+individuals, such are rare exceptions--I leave them out of the
+question--I reason on general principles. The life of an officer
+is not now a life of parade, of coxcombical or of profligate
+idleness--but of active service, of continual hardship and danger. All
+the descriptions which we see in ancient history of a soldier's life,
+descriptions which in times of peace appeared like romance, are now
+realized; military exploits fill every day's newspapers, every day's
+conversation. A martial spirit is now essential to the liberty and
+the existence of our own country. In the present state of things, the
+military must be the most honourable profession, because the most
+useful. Every movement of an army is followed wherever it goes, by
+the public hopes and fears. Every officer must now feel, besides this
+sense of collective importance, a belief that his only dependence
+must be on his own merit--and thus his ambition, his enthusiasm, are
+raised; and, when once this noble ardour is kindled in the breast,
+it excites to exertion, and supports under endurance. But I forget
+myself," said the count, checking his enthusiasm; "I promised to speak
+soberly. If I have said too much, your own good sense, my lord, will
+correct me, and your good nature will forgive the prolixity of an old
+man, touched upon his favourite subject--the passion of his youth."
+
+Lord Colambre, of course, assured the count that he was not tired.
+Indeed, the enthusiasm with which this old officer spoke of his
+profession, and the high point of view in which he placed it,
+increased our hero's desire to serve a campaign abroad. Good sense,
+politeness, and experience of the world preserved Count O'Halloran
+from that foible with which old officers are commonly reproached, of
+talking continually of their own military exploits. Though retired
+from the world, he had contrived, by reading the best books, and
+corresponding with persons of good information, to keep up with the
+current of modern affairs; and he seldom spoke of those in which he
+had been formerly engaged. He rather too studiously avoided speaking
+of himself; and this fear of egotism diminished the peculiar interest
+he might have inspired: it disappointed curiosity, and deprived those
+with whom he conversed of many entertaining and instructive anecdotes.
+However, he sometimes made exceptions to his general rule in favour
+of persons who peculiarly pleased him, and Lord Colambre was of this
+number.
+
+He this evening, for the first time, spoke to his lordship of the
+years he had spent in the Austrian service; told him anecdotes of
+the emperor; spoke of many distinguished public characters whom he
+had known abroad; of those officers who had been his friends and
+companions. Among others he mentioned, with particular regard, a young
+English officer who had been at the same time with him in the Austrian
+service, a gentleman of the name of Reynolds.
+
+The name struck Lord Colambre: it was the name of the officer who had
+been the cause of the disgrace of Miss St. Omar--of--Miss Nugent's
+mother. "But there are so many Reynoldses."
+
+He eagerly asked the age--the character of this officer.
+
+"He was a gallant youth," said the count, "but too adventurous--too
+rash. He fell, after distinguishing himself in a glorious manner, in
+his twentieth year--died in my arms."
+
+"Married or unmarried?" cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"Married--he had been privately married, less than a year before
+his death, to a very young English lady, who had been educated at a
+convent in Vienna. He was heir to a considerable property, I believe,
+and the young lady had little fortune; and the affair was kept secret,
+from the fear of offending his friends, or for some other reason--I do
+not recollect the particulars."
+
+"Did he acknowledge his marriage?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"Never, till he was dying--then he confided his secret to me."
+
+"Do you recollect the name of the young lady he married?"
+
+"Yes--a Miss St. Omar."
+
+"St. Omar!" repeated Lord Colambre, with an expression of lively joy
+in his countenance. "But are you certain, my dear count, that she was
+really married, legally married, to Mr. Reynolds? Her marriage has
+been denied by all his friends and relations--hers have never been
+able to establish it--her daughter is--My dear count, were you present
+at the marriage?"
+
+"No," said the count, "I was not present at the marriage; I never
+saw the lady; nor do I know any thing of the affair, except that Mr.
+Reynolds, when he was dying, assured me that he was privately married
+to a Miss St. Omar, who was then boarding at a convent in Vienna. The
+young man expressed great regret at leaving her totally unprovided
+for; but said that he trusted his father would acknowledge her, and
+that her friends would be reconciled to her. He was not of age, he
+said, to make a will; but I think he told me that his child, who at
+that time was not born, would, even if it should be a girl, inherit a
+considerable property. With this I cannot, however, charge my memory
+positively; but he put a packet into my hands which, he told me,
+contained a certificate of his marriage, and, I think he said, a
+letter to his father: this he requested that I would transmit to
+England by some safe hand. Immediately after his death, I went to the
+English ambassador, who was then leaving Vienna, and delivered the
+packet into his hands: he promised to have it safely delivered. I was
+obliged to go the next day, with the troops, to a distant part of the
+country. When I returned, I inquired at the convent what had become of
+Miss St. Omar--I should say Mrs. Reynolds; and I was told that she had
+removed from the convent to private lodgings in the town, some time
+previous to the birth of her child. The abbess seemed much scandalized
+by the whole transaction; and I remember I relieved her mind by
+assuring her that there had been a regular marriage. For poor young
+Reynolds' sake, I made farther inquiries about the widow, intending,
+of course, to act as a friend, if she were in any difficulty or
+distress. But I found, on inquiry at her lodgings, that her brother
+had come from England for her, and had carried her and her infant
+away. The active scenes," continued the count, "in which I was
+immediately afterwards engaged, drove the whole affair from my mind.
+Now that your questions have recalled them, I feel certain of the
+facts I have mentioned; and I am ready to establish them by my
+testimony."
+
+Lord Colambre thanked him with an eagerness that showed how much he
+was interested in the event. It was clear, he said, that either the
+packet left with the ambassador had not been delivered, or that the
+father of Mr. Reynolds had suppressed the certificate of the marriage,
+as it had never been acknowledged by him or by any of the family. Lord
+Colambre now frankly told the count why he was so anxious about this
+affair; and Count O'Halloran, with all the warmth of youth, and with
+all the ardent generosity characteristic of his country, entered
+into his feelings, declaring that he would never rest till he had
+established the truth.
+
+"Unfortunately," said the count, "the ambassador who took the packet
+in charge is dead. I am afraid we shall have difficulty."
+
+"But he must have had some secretary," said Lord Colambre: "who was
+his secretary?--we can apply to him."
+
+"His secretary is now chargé d'affaires in Vienna--we cannot get at
+him."
+
+"Into whose hands have that ambassador's papers fallen--who is his
+executor?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"His executor!--now you have it," cried the count. "His executor is
+the very man who will do your business--your friend Sir James Brooke
+is the executor. All papers, of course, are in his hands; or he can
+have access to any that are in the hands of the family. The family
+seat is within a few miles of Sir James Brooke's, in Huntingdonshire,
+where, as I told you before, he now is."
+
+"I'll go to him immediately--set out in the mail this night. Just in
+time!" cried Lord Colambre, pulling out his watch with one hand, and
+ringing the bell with the other.
+
+"Run and take a place for me in the mail for Huntingdon. Go directly,"
+said Lord Colambre to the servant.
+
+"And take two places, if you please, sir," said the count. "My lord, I
+will accompany you."
+
+But this Lord Colambre would not permit, as it would be unnecessary
+to fatigue the good old general; and a letter from him to Sir James
+Brooke would do all that the count could effect by his presence: the
+search for the papers would be made by Sir James, and if the packet
+could be recovered, or if any memorandum or mode of ascertaining that
+it had actually been delivered to old Reynolds could be discovered,
+Lord Colambre said he would then call upon the count for his
+assistance, and trouble him to identify the packet; or to go with him
+to Mr. Reynolds to make farther inquiries; and to certify, at all
+events, the young man's dying acknowledgment of his marriage and of
+his child.
+
+The place in the mail, just in time, was taken. Lord Colambre sent a
+servant in search of his father, with a note, explaining the necessity
+of his sudden departure. All the business which remained to be done in
+town he knew Lord Clonbrony could accomplish without his assistance.
+Then he wrote a few lines to his mother, on the very sheet of paper
+on which, a few hours before, he had sorrowfully and slowly begun,
+
+"_My dear mother--Miss Nugent._"
+
+He now joyfully and rapidly went on,
+
+"My dear mother and Miss Nugent,
+
+"I hope to be with you on Wednesday se'nnight; but if unforeseen
+circumstances should delay me, I will certainly write to you again.
+Dear mother, believe me,
+
+"Your obliged and grateful son,
+
+"Colambre."
+
+The count, in the mean time, wrote a letter for him to Sir James
+Brooke, describing the packet which he had given to the ambassador,
+and relating all the circumstances that could lead to its recovery.
+Lord Colambre, almost before the wax was hard, seized the letter; the
+count seeming almost as eager to hurry him off as he was to set out.
+He thanked the count with few words, but with strong feeling. Joy and
+love returned in full tide upon our hero's soul; all the military
+ideas, which but an hour before filled his imagination, were put to
+flight: Spain vanished, and green Ireland reappeared.
+
+Just as they shook hands at parting, the good old general, with a
+smile, said to him, "I believe I had better not stir in the matter of
+Benson's commission till I hear more from you. My harangue, in favour
+of the military profession, will, I fancy, prove, like most other
+harangues, a waste of words."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+In what words of polite circumlocution, or of cautious diplomacy,
+shall we say, or hint, that the deceased ambassador's papers were
+found in shameful disorder. His excellency's executor, Sir James
+Brooke, however, was indefatigable in his researches. He and Lord
+Colambre spent two whole days in looking over portfolios of letters,
+and memorials, and manifestoes, and bundles of paper of the most
+heterogeneous sorts; some of them without any docket or direction to
+lead to a knowledge of their contents; others written upon in such
+a manner as to give an erroneous notion of their nature; so that it
+was necessary to untie every paper separately. At last, when they had
+opened, as they thought, every paper, and, wearied and in despair,
+were just on the point of giving up the search, Lord Colambre spied a
+bundle of old newspapers at the bottom of a trunk.
+
+"They are only old Vienna Gazettes; I looked at them," said Sir James.
+
+Lord Colambre, upon this assurance, was going to throw them into the
+trunk again; but observing that the bundle had not been untied, he
+opened it, and withinside of the newspapers he found a rough copy of
+the ambassador's journal, and with it the packet directed to Ralph
+Reynolds, sen., Esq., Old Court, Suffolk, per favour of his excellency
+Earl *****--a note on the cover, signed O'Halloran, stating when
+received by him, and, the date of the day when delivered to the
+ambassador--seals unbroken. Our hero was in such a transport of joy
+at the sight of this packet, and his friend Sir James Brooke so full
+of his congratulations, that they forgot to curse the ambassador's
+carelessness, which had been the cause of so much evil.
+
+The next thing to be done was to deliver the packet to Ralph Reynolds,
+Old Court, Suffolk. But when Lord Colambre arrived at Old Court,
+Suffolk, he found all the gates locked, and no admittance to be had.
+At last an old woman came out of the porter's lodge, who said Mr.
+Reynolds was not there, and she could not say where he was. After
+our hero had opened her heart by the present of half a guinea, she
+explained, that she "could not _justly_ say where he was, because that
+he never let any body of his own people know where he was any day;
+he had several different houses and places in different parts, and
+far off counties, and other shires, as she heard, and by times he
+was at one, and by times at another. The names of two of the places,
+Toddrington and Little Wrestham, she knew; but there were others to
+which she could give no direction. He had houses in odd parts of
+London, too, that he let; and sometimes, when the lodgers' time was
+out, he would go, and be never heard of for a month, may be, in one of
+them. In short, there was no telling or saying where he was or would
+be one day of the week, by where he had been the last."
+
+When Lord Colambre expressed some surprise that an old gentleman,
+as he conceived Mr. Ralph Reynolds to be, should change places so
+frequently, the old woman answered, "that though her master was a deal
+on the wrong side of seventy, and though, to look at him, you'd think
+he was glued to his chair, and would fall to pieces if he should stir
+out of it, yet he was as alert, and thought no more of going about,
+than if he was as young as the gentleman who was now speaking to her.
+It was old Mr. Reynolds' delight to come down and surprise his people
+at his different places, and see that they were keeping all tight."
+
+"What sort of a man is he?--Is he a miser?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+"He is a miser, and he is not a miser," said the woman. "Now he'd
+think as much of the waste of a penny as another man would of a
+hundred pounds, and yet he would give a hundred pounds easier
+than another would give a penny, when he's in the humour. But his
+humour is very odd, and there's no knowing where to have him; he's
+cross-grained, and more _positiver_-like than a mule; and his deafness
+made him worse in this, because he never heard what nobody said, but
+would say on his own way--he was very _odd_, but not _cracked_--no,
+he was as clear-headed, when he took a thing the right way, as any
+man could be, and as clever, and could talk as well as any member of
+parliament--and good-natured, and kind-hearted, where he would take a
+fancy--but then, may be, it would be to a dog (he was remarkably fond
+of dogs), or a cat, or a rat even, that he would take a fancy, and
+think more of 'em than he would of a Christian. But, poor gentleman,
+there's great allowance," said she, "to be made for him, that lost
+his son and heir--that would have been heir to all, and a fine youth
+that he doted upon. But," continued the old woman, in whose mind
+the transitions from great to little, from serious to trivial, were
+ludicrously abrupt, "that was no reason why the old gentleman should
+scold me last time he was here, as he did, for as long as ever he
+could stand over me, only because I killed a mouse who was eating
+my cheese; and, before night, he beat a boy for stealing a piece of
+that same cheese; and he would never, when down here, let me set a
+mouse-trap."
+
+"Well, my good woman," interrupted Lord Colambre, who was little
+interested in this affair of the mouse-trap, and nowise curious to
+learn more of Mr. Reynolds' domestic economy, "I'll not trouble
+you any farther, if you can be so good as to tell me the road to
+Toddrington, or to Little Wickham, I think you call it."
+
+"Little Wickham!" repeated the woman, laughing--"Bless you, sir, where
+do you come from? It's Little Wrestham: sure every body knows, near
+Lantry; and keep the _pike_ till you come to the turn at Rotherford,
+and then you strike off into the by-road to the left, and then turn
+again at the ford to the right. But, if you are going to Toddrington,
+you don't go the road to market, which is at the first turn to the
+left, and the cross country road, where there's no quarter, and
+Toddrington lies--but for Wrestham, you take the road to market."
+
+It was some time before our hero could persuade the old woman to stick
+to Little Wrestham, or to Toddrington, and not to mix the directions
+for the different roads together--he took patience, for his impatience
+only confused his director the more. In process of time he made out,
+and wrote down, the various turns that he was to follow, to reach
+Little Wrestham; but no human power could get her from Little Wrestham
+to Toddrington, though she knew the road perfectly well; but she had,
+for the seventeen last years, been used to go "the other road," and
+all the carriers went that way, and passed the door, and that was all
+she could certify.
+
+Little Wrestham, after turning to the left and right as often as his
+directory required, our hero happily reached: but, unhappily, he
+found no Mr. Reynolds there; only a steward, who gave nearly the same
+account of his master as had been given by the old woman, and could
+not guess even where the gentleman might now be. Toddrington was as
+likely as any place--but he could not say.
+
+"Perseverance against fortune." To Toddrington our hero proceeded,
+through cross country roads--such roads!--very different from the
+Irish roads. Waggon ruts, into which the carriage wheels sunk nearly
+to the nave--and, from time to time, "sloughs of despond," through
+which it seemed impossible to drag, walk, wade, or swim, and all the
+time with a sulky postilion. "Oh, how unlike my Larry!" thought Lord
+Colambre.
+
+At length, in a very narrow lane, going up a hill, said to be two
+miles of ascent, they overtook a heavy laden waggon, and they were
+obliged to go step by step behind it, whilst, enjoying the gentleman's
+impatience much, and the postilion's sulkiness more, the waggoner, in
+his embroidered frock, walked in state, with his long sceptre in his
+hand.
+
+The postilion muttered "curses not loud, but deep." Deep or loud, no
+purpose would they have answered; the waggoner's temper was proof
+against curse in or out of the English language; and from their
+snail's pace neither _Dickens_, nor devil, nor any postilion in
+England could make him put his horses. Lord Colambre jumped out of the
+chaise, and, walking beside him, began to talk to him; and spoke of
+his horses, their bells, their trappings; the beauty and strength
+of the thill-horse--the value of the whole team, which his lordship
+happening to guess right within ten pounds, and showing, moreover,
+some skill about road-making and waggon-wheels, and being fortunately
+of the waggoner's own opinion in the great question about conical and
+cylindrical rims, he was pleased with the young chap of a gentleman;
+and, in spite of the chuffiness of his appearance and churlishness of
+his speech, this waggoner's bosom being "made of penetrable stuff," he
+determined to let the gentleman pass. Accordingly, when half way up
+the hill, and the head of the fore-horse came near an open gate, the
+waggoner, without saying one word or turning his head, touched the
+horse with his long whip--and the horse turned in at the gate, and
+then came, "Dobbin!--Jeho!" and strange calls and sounds, which all
+the other horses of the team obeyed; and the waggon turned into the
+farm-yard.
+
+"Now, master! while I turn, you may pass."
+
+The covering of the waggon caught in the hedge as the waggon turned
+in; and as the sacking was drawn back, some of the packages were
+disturbed--a cheese was just rolling off on the side next Lord
+Colambre; he stopped it from falling: the direction caught his quick
+eye--"To Ralph Reynolds, Esq."--"_Toddrington_" scratched out; "Red
+Lion Square, London," written in another hand below.
+
+"Now I have found him! And surely I know that hand!" said Lord
+Colambre to himself, looking more closely at the direction.
+
+The original direction was certainly in a hand-writing well known to
+him--it was Lady Dashfort's.
+
+"That there cheese, that you're looking at so cur'ously," said the
+waggoner, "has been a great traveller; for it came all the way down
+from Lon'on, and now its going all the way up again back, on account
+of not finding the gentleman at home; and the man that booked it told
+me as how it came from foreign parts."
+
+Lord Colambre took down the direction, tossed the honest waggoner a
+guinea, wished him good night, passed, and went on. As soon as he
+could, he turned into the London road--at the first town, got a place
+in the mail--reached London--saw his father--went directly to his
+friend, Count O'Halloran, who was delighted when he beheld the packet.
+Lord Colambre was extremely eager to go immediately to old Reynolds,
+fatigued as he was; for he had travelled night and day, and had
+scarcely allowed himself, mind or body, one moment's repose.
+
+"Heroes must sleep, and lovers too; or they soon will cease to be
+heroes or lovers!" said the count. "Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! this
+night; and to-morrow morning we'll finish the adventures in Red Lion
+Square, or I will accompany you when and where you will; if necessary,
+to earth's remotest bounds."
+
+The next morning Lord Colambre went to breakfast with the count. The
+count, who was not in love, was not up, for our hero was half an
+hour earlier than the time appointed. The old servant Ulick, who had
+attended his master to England, was very glad to see Lord Colambre
+again, and, showing him into the breakfast parlour, could not help
+saying, in defence of his master's punctuality, "Your clocks, I
+suppose, my lord, are half an hour faster than ours: my master will be
+ready to the moment."
+
+The count soon appeared--breakfast was soon over, and the carriage at
+the door; for the count sympathized in his young friend's impatience.
+As they were setting out, the count's large Irish dog pushed out of
+the house-door to follow them; and his master would have forbidden
+him, but Lord Colambre begged that he might be permitted to accompany
+them; for his lordship recollected the old woman's having mentioned
+that Mr. Reynolds was fond of dogs.
+
+They arrived in Red Lion Square, found the house of Mr. Reynolds, and,
+contrary to the count's prognostics, found the old gentleman up, and
+they saw him in his red night-cap at his parlour window. After some
+minutes' running backwards and forwards of a boy in the passage, and
+two or three peeps taken over the blinds by the old gentleman, they
+were admitted.
+
+The boy could not master their names; so they were obliged
+reciprocally to announce themselves--"Count O'Halloran and Lord
+Colambre." The names seemed to make no impression on the old
+gentleman; but he deliberately looked at the count and his lordship,
+as if studying _what_ rather than _who_ they were. In spite of the red
+night-cap, and a flowered dressing-gown, Mr. Reynolds looked like a
+gentleman, an odd gentleman--but still a gentleman.
+
+As Count O'Halloran came into the room, and as his large dog attempted
+to follow, the count's look expressed--
+
+"Say, shall I let him in, or shut the door?"
+
+"Oh, let him in, by all means, sir, if you please! I am fond of
+dogs; and a finer one I never saw: pray, gentlemen, be seated," said
+he--a portion of the complacency, inspired by the sight of the dog,
+diffusing itself over his manner towards the master of so fine an
+animal, and even extending to the master's companion, though in an
+inferior degree. Whilst Mr. Reynolds stroked the dog, the count told
+him that "the dog was of a curious breed, now almost extinct--the
+Irish greyhound; only one nobleman in Ireland, it is said, has a few
+of the species remaining in his possession--Now, lie down, Hannibal,"
+said the count. "Mr. Reynolds, we have taken the liberty, though
+strangers, of waiting upon you--"
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," interrupted Mr. Reynolds; "but did I
+understand you rightly, that a few of the same species are still to be
+had from one nobleman in Ireland? Pray, what is his name?" said he,
+taking out his pencil.
+
+The count wrote the name for him, but observed, that "he had asserted
+only that a few of these dogs remained in the possession of that
+nobleman; he could not answer for it that they were _to be had_."
+
+"Oh, I have ways and means," said old Reynolds; and, rapping his
+snuff-box, and talking, as it was his custom, loud to himself, "Lady
+Dashfort knows all those Irish lords: she shall get one for me--ay!
+ay!"
+
+Count O'Halloran replied, as if the words had been addressed to him,
+"Lady Dashfort is in England."
+
+"I know it, sir; she is in London," said Mr. Reynolds, hastily. "What
+do you know of her?"
+
+"I know, sir, that she is not likely to return to Ireland, and
+that I am; and so is my young friend here: and if the thing can be
+accomplished, we will get it done for you."
+
+Lord Colambre joined in this promise, and added, that, "if the dog
+could be obtained, he would undertake to have him safely sent over to
+England."
+
+"Sir--gentlemen! I'm much obliged; that is, when you have done the
+thing I shall be much obliged. But, may be, you are only making me
+civil speeches!"
+
+"Of that, sir," said the count, smiling with much temper, "your own
+sagacity and knowledge of the world must enable you to judge."
+
+"For my own part, I can only say," cried Lord Colambre, "that I am not
+in the habit of being reproached with saying one thing and meaning
+another."
+
+"Hot! I see," said old Reynolds, nodding as he looked at Lord
+Colambre: "Cool!" added he, nodding at the count. "But a time for
+every thing; I was hot once: both answers good for their ages."
+
+This speech Lord Colambre and the count tacitly agreed to consider as
+another _apart_, which they were not to hear, or seem to hear. The
+count began again on the business of their visit, as he saw that Lord
+Colambre was boiling with impatience, and feared that he should _boil
+over_, and spoil all. The count commenced with, "Mr. Reynolds, your
+name sounds to me like the name of a friend; for I had once a friend
+of that name: I once had the pleasure (and a very great pleasure it
+was to me) to be intimately acquainted abroad, on the continent, with
+a very amiable and gallant youth--your son!"
+
+"Take care, sir," said the old man, starting up from his chair,
+and instantly sinking down again, "take care! Don't mention him to
+me--unless you would strike me dead on the spot!"
+
+The convulsed motions of his fingers and face worked for some moments;
+whilst the count and Lord Colambre, much shocked and alarmed, stood in
+silence.
+
+The convulsed motions ceased; and the old man unbuttoned his
+waistcoat, as if to relieve some sense of oppression; uncovered his
+gray hairs; and, after leaning back to rest himself, with his eyes
+fixed, and in reverie for a few moments, he sat upright again in his
+chair, and exclaimed, as he looked round, "Son!--Did not somebody say
+that word? Who is so cruel to say that word before me? Nobody has ever
+spoken of him to me--but once, since his death! Do you know, sir,"
+said he, fixing his eyes on Count O'Halloran, and laying his cold
+hand on him, "do you know where he was buried, I ask you, sir? do you
+remember how he died?"
+
+"Too well! too well!" cried the count, so much affected as to be
+scarcely able to pronounce the words; "he died in my arms: I buried
+him myself!"
+
+"Impossible!" cried Mr. Reynolds. "Why do you say so, sir?" said he,
+studying the count's face with a sort of bewildered earnestness.
+"Impossible! His body was sent over to me in a lead coffin; and I saw
+it--and I was asked--and I answered, 'In the family vault.' But the
+shock is over," said he: "and, gentlemen, if the business of your
+visit relates to that subject, I trust I am now sufficiently composed
+to attend to you. Indeed, I ought to be prepared; for I had reason,
+for years, to expect the stroke; and yet, when it came, it seemed
+sudden!--it stunned me--put an end to all my worldly prospects--left
+me childless, without a single descendant, or relation near enough to
+be dear to me! I am an insulated being!"
+
+"No, sir, you are not an insulated being," said Lord Colambre: "You
+have a near relation, who will, who must, be dear to you; who will
+make you amends for all you have lost, all you have suffered--who will
+bring peace and joy to your heart: you have a grand-daughter."
+
+"No, sir; I have no grand-daughter," said old Reynolds, his face and
+whole form becoming rigid with the expression of obstinacy. "Rather
+have no descendant than be forced to acknowledge an illegitimate
+child."
+
+"My lord, I entreat as a friend--I command you to be patient," said
+the count, who saw Lord Colambre's indignation suddenly rise.
+
+"So, then, this is the purpose of your visit," continued old Reynolds:
+"and you come from my enemies, from the St. Omars, and you are in a
+league with them," continued old Reynolds: "and all this time it is of
+my eldest son you have been talking."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the count; "of Captain Reynolds, who fell in
+battle, in the Austrian service, about nineteen years ago--a more
+gallant and amiable youth never lived."
+
+Pleasure revived through the dull look of obstinacy in the father's
+eyes.
+
+"He was, as you say, sir, a gallant, an amiable youth, once--and he
+was my pride, and I loved him, too, once--but did not you know I had
+another?"
+
+"No, sir, we did not--we are, you may perceive, totally ignorant of
+your family and of your affairs--we have no connexion whatever or
+knowledge of any of the St. Omars."
+
+"I detest the sound of the name," cried Lord Colambre.
+
+"Oh, good! good!--Well! well! I beg your pardon, gentlemen, a thousand
+times--I am a hasty, very hasty old man; but I have been harassed,
+persecuted, hunted by wretches, who got a scent of my gold; often in
+my rage I longed to throw my treasure-bags to my pursuers, and bid
+them leave me to die in peace. You have feelings, I see, both of you,
+gentlemen; excuse, and bear with my temper."
+
+"Bear with you! Much enforced, the best tempers will emit a hasty
+spark," said the count, looking at Lord Colambre, who was now cool
+again; and who, with a countenance full of compassion, sat with his
+eyes fixed upon the poor--no, not the poor, but the unhappy old man.
+
+"Yes, I had another son," continued Mr. Reynolds, "and on him all my
+affections concentrated when I lost my eldest, and for him I desired
+to preserve the estate which his mother brought into the family. Since
+you know nothing of my affairs, let me explain to you: that estate was
+so settled, that it would have gone to the child, even the daughter of
+my eldest son, if there had been a legitimate child. But I knew there
+was no marriage, and I held out firm to my opinion. 'If there was
+a marriage,' said I, 'show me the marriage certificate, and I will
+acknowledge the marriage, and acknowledge the child:' but they could
+not, and I knew they could not; and I kept the estate for my darling
+boy," cried the old gentleman, with the exultation of successful
+positiveness again appearing strong in his physiognomy: but, suddenly
+changing and relaxing, his countenance fell, and he added, "but now I
+have no darling boy. What use all!--all must go to the heir at law, or
+I must will it to a stranger--a lady of quality, who has just found
+out she is my relation--God knows how! I'm no genealogist--and sends
+me Irish cheese, and Iceland moss, for my breakfast, and her waiting
+gentlewoman to namby-pamby me. Oh, I'm sick of it all--see through
+it--wish I was blind--wish I had a hiding-place, where flatterers
+could not find me--pursued, chased--must change my lodgings again
+to-morrow--will, will--I beg your pardon, gentlemen, again: you were
+going to tell me, sir, something more of my eldest son; and how I was
+led away from the subject, I don't know; but I meant only to have
+assured you that his memory was dear to me, till I was so tormented
+about that unfortunate affair of his pretended marriage, that at
+length I hated to hear him named; but the heir at law, at last, will
+triumph over me."
+
+"No, my good sir, not if you triumph over yourself, and do justice,"
+cried Lord Colambre; "if you listen to the truth, which my friend will
+tell you, and if you will read and believe the confirmation of it,
+under your son's own hand, in this packet."
+
+"His own hand indeed! His seal--unbroken. But how--when--where--why
+was it kept so long, and how came it into your hands?"
+
+Count O'Halloran told Mr. Reynolds that the packet had been given
+to him by Captain Reynolds on his death-bed; related the dying
+acknowledgment which Captain Reynolds had made of his marriage; and
+gave an account of the delivery of the packet to the ambassador, who
+had promised to transmit it faithfully. Lord Colambre told the manner
+in which it had been mislaid, and at last recovered from among the
+deceased ambassador's papers. The father still gazed at the direction,
+and re-examined the seals.
+
+"My son's hand-writing--my son's seals! But where is the certificate
+of the marriage?" repeated he; "if it is withinside of this packet, I
+have done great _in_--but I am convinced it never was a marriage. Yet
+I wish now it could be proved--only, in that case, I have for years
+done great--"
+
+"Won't you open the packet, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
+
+Mr. Reynolds looked up at him with a look that said, "I don't clearly
+know what interest you have in all this." But, unable to speak, and
+his hands trembling so that he could scarcely break the seals, he tore
+off the cover, laid the papers before him, sat down, and took breath.
+Lord Colambre, however impatient, had now too much humanity to hurry
+the old gentleman: he only ran for the spectacles, which he espied
+on the chimney-piece, rubbed them bright, and held them ready. Mr.
+Reynolds stretched his hand out for them, put them on, and the first
+paper he opened was the certificate of the marriage: he read it aloud,
+and, putting it down, said, "Now I acknowledge the marriage. I always
+said, if there is a marriage there must be a certificate. And you see
+now there is a certificate--I acknowledge the marriage."
+
+"And now," cried Lord Colambre, "I am happy, positively happy.
+Acknowledge your grand-daughter, sir--acknowledge Miss Nugent."
+
+"Acknowledge whom, sir?"
+
+"Acknowledge Miss Reynolds--your grand-daughter; I ask no more--do
+what you will with your fortune."
+
+"Oh, now I understand--I begin to understand, this young gentleman is
+in love--but where is my grand-daughter? how shall I know she is my
+grand-daughter? I have not heard of her since she was an infant--I
+forgot her existence--I have done her great injustice."
+
+"She knows nothing of it, sir," said Lord Colambre, who now entered
+into a full explanation of Miss Nugent's history, and of her connexion
+with his family, and of his own attachment to her; concluding the
+whole by assuring Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every
+virtue under heaven. "And as to your fortune, sir, I know that she
+will, as I do, say--"
+
+"No matter what she will say," interrupted old Reynolds; "where is
+she? When I see her, I shall hear what she says. Tell me where she
+is--let me see her. I long to see whether there is any likeness to her
+poor father. Where is she? Let me see her immediately."
+
+"She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir, at Buxton."
+
+"Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles? I suppose
+you think I can't stir from my chair, but you are mistaken. I think
+nothing of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles--I am ready to set
+off to-morrow--this instant."
+
+Lord Colambre said, that he was sure Miss Reynolds would obey her
+grandfather's slightest summons, as it was her duty to do, and would
+be with him as soon as possible, if this would be more agreeable to
+him. "I will write to her instantly," said his lordship, "if you will
+commission me."
+
+"No, my lord, I do not commission--I will go--I think nothing, I
+say, of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles--I'll go--and set out
+to-morrow morning."
+
+Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with the result of
+their visit, now thought it best to leave old Reynolds at liberty
+to rest himself, after so many strong and varied feelings. They
+paid their parting compliments, settled the time for the next day's
+journey, and were just going to quit the room, when Lord Colambre
+heard in the passage a well-known voice--the voice of Mrs. Petito.
+
+"Oh, no, my Lady Dashfort's best compliments, and I will call again."
+
+"No, no," cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; "I'll have no calling
+again--I'll be hanged if I do! Let her in now, and I'll see her--Jack!
+let in that woman now or never."
+
+"The lady's gone, sir, out of the street door."
+
+"After her, then--now or never, tell her."
+
+"Sir, she was in a hackney coach."
+
+Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing
+the hackney coachman just turning, beckoned at the window, and Mrs.
+Petito was set down again, and ushered in by Jack, who announced her
+as, "the lady, sir." The only lady he had seen in that house.
+
+"My dear Mr. Reynolds, I'm so obliged to you for letting me in," cried
+Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the passage, and speaking in a
+voice and manner well mimicked after her betters. "You are so very
+good and kind, and I am so much obliged to you."
+
+"You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor kind," said old
+Reynolds.
+
+"You strange man," said Mrs. Petito, advancing graceful in shawl
+drapery; but she stopped short. "My Lord Colambre and Count
+O'Halloran, as I hope to be saved!"
+
+"I did not know Mrs. Petito was an acquaintance of yours, gentlemen,"
+said Mr. Reynolds, smiling shrewdly.
+
+Count O'Halloran was too polite to deny his acquaintance with a lady
+who challenged it by thus naming him; but he had not the slightest
+recollection of her, though it seems he had met her on the stairs
+when he visited Lady Dashfort at Killpatricks-town. Lord Colambre was
+"indeed _undeniably an old acquaintance_:" and as soon as she had
+recovered from her first natural start and vulgar exclamation, she
+with very easy familiarity hoped "my Lady Clonbrony, and my Lord, and
+Miss Nugent, and all her friends in the family, were well;" and said,
+"she did not know whether she was to congratulate his lordship or not
+upon Miss Broadhurst, my Lady Berryl's marriage, but she should soon
+have to hope for his lordship's congratulations for another marriage
+in _her_ present family--Lady Isabel to Colonel Heathcock, who was
+come in for a large _portion_, and they are buying the wedding
+clothes--sights of clothes--and the di'monds, this day; and Lady
+Dashfort and my Lady Isabel sent me especially, sir, to you, Mr.
+Reynolds, and to tell you, sir, before any body else; and to hope the
+cheese _come_ safe up again at last; and to ask whether the Iceland
+moss agrees with your chocolate, and is palatable? it's the most
+_diluent_ thing upon the universal earth, and the most _tonic_ and
+fashionable--the Duchess of Torcaster takes it always for breakfast,
+and Lady St. James too is quite a convert, and I hear the Duke of V***
+takes it too."
+
+"And the devil may take it too, for any thing that I care," said old
+Reynolds.
+
+"Oh, my dear, dear sir! you are so refractory a patient."
+
+"I am no patient at all, ma'am, and have no patience either: I am as
+well as you are, or my Lady Dashfort either, and hope, God willing,
+long to continue so."
+
+Mrs. Petito smiled aside at Lord Colambre, to mark her perception of
+the man's strangeness. Then, in a cajoling voice, addressing herself
+to the old gentleman, "Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven
+grants my daily and nightly prayers, and my Lady Dashfort's also. So,
+Mr. Reynolds, if the ladies' prayers are of any avail, you ought to be
+purely, and I suppose ladies' prayers have the precedence in efficacy.
+But it was not of prayers and death-bed affairs I came commissioned to
+treat--but of weddings my diplomacy was to speak: and to premise my
+Lady Dashfort would have come herself in her carriage, but is hurried
+out of her senses, and my Lady Isabel could not in proper modesty; so
+they sent me as their _double_, to hope you, my dear Mr. Reynolds,
+who is one of the family relations, will honour the wedding with your
+presence."
+
+"It would be no honour, and they know that as well as I do," said the
+intractable Mr. Reynolds. "It will be no advantage, either; but that
+they do not know as well as I do. Mrs. Petito, to save you and your
+lady all trouble about me in future, please to let my Lady Dashfort
+know that I have just received and read the certificate of my son
+Captain Reynolds' marriage with Miss St. Omar. I have acknowledged the
+marriage. Better late than never; and to-morrow morning, God willing,
+shall set out with this young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to
+see, and intend publicly to acknowledge, my grand-daughter--provided
+she will acknowledge me."
+
+"_Crimini!_" exclaimed Mrs. Petito, "what new turns are here? Well,
+sir, I shall tell my lady of the _metamorphoses_ that have taken
+place, though by what magic I can't guess. But, since it seems
+annoying and inopportune, I shall make my _finale_, and shall thus
+leave a verbal P.P.C.--as you are leaving town, it seems, for Buxton
+so early in the morning. My Lord Colambre, if I see rightly into a
+millstone, as I hope and believe I do on the present occasion, I
+have to congratulate your lordship (haven't I?) upon something like
+a succession, or a windfall, in this _denewment_. And I beg you'll
+make my humble respects acceptable to the _ci-devant_ Miss Grace
+Nugent that was; and I won't _derrogate_ her by any other name in
+the interregnum, as I am persuaded it will only be a temporary name,
+scarce worth assuming, except for the honour of the public adoption;
+and that will, I'm confident, be soon exchanged for a viscount's
+title, or I have no sagacity or sympathy. I hope I don't (pray don't
+let me) put you to the blush, my lord."
+
+Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have helped it.
+
+"Count O'Halloran, your most obedient! I had the honour of meeting
+you at Killpatricks-town," said Mrs. Petito, backing to the door, and
+twitching her shawl. She stumbled, nearly fell down, over the large
+dog--caught by the door, and recovered herself--Hannibal rose and
+shook his ears. "Poor fellow! you are of my acquaintance, too." She
+would have stroked his head; but Hannibal walked off indignant, and so
+did she.
+
+Thus ended certain hopes: for Mrs. Petito had conceived that her
+_diplomacy_ might be turned to account; that in her character of an
+ambassadress, as Lady Dashfort's double, by the aid of Iceland moss in
+chocolate, of flattery properly administered, and of bearing with all
+her _dear_ Mr. Reynolds' _oddnesses_ and _rough-nesses_, she might in
+time--that is to say, before he made a new will--become his dear Mrs.
+Petito; or (for stranger things have happened and do happen every
+day), his dear Mrs. Reynolds! Mrs. Petito, however, was good at a
+retreat; and she flattered herself that at least nothing of this
+underplot had appeared: and at all events she secured, by her services
+in this embassy, the long looked-for object of her ambition, Lady
+Dashfort's scarlet velvet gown--"not yet a thread the worse for the
+wear!" One cordial look at this comforted her for the loss of her
+expected _octogenaire_; and she proceeded to discomfit her lady, by
+repeating the message with which strange old Mr. Reynolds had charged
+her. So ended all Lady Dashfort's hopes of his fortune.
+
+Since the death of his youngest son, she had been indefatigable in her
+attentions, and sanguine in her hopes: the disappointment affected
+both her interest and her pride, as an _intrigante_. It was necessary,
+however, to keep her feelings to herself; for if Heathcock should hear
+any thing of the matter before the articles were signed, he might "be
+off!"--so she put him and Lady Isabel into her coach directly--drove
+to Rundell and Bridges', to make sure at all events of the jewels.
+
+In the mean time Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, delighted with
+the result of their visit, took leave of Mr. Reynolds, after having
+arranged the journey, and appointed the hour for setting off the next
+day. Lord Colambre proposed to call upon Mr. Reynolds in the evening,
+and introduce his father, Lord Clonbrony; but Mr. Reynolds said, "No,
+no! I'm not ceremonious. I have given you proofs enough of that, I
+think, in the short time we've been already acquainted. Time enough
+to introduce your father to me when we are in a carriage, going our
+journey: then we can talk, and get acquainted: but merely to come
+this evening in a hurry, and say, 'Lord Clonbrony, Mr. Reynolds;--Mr.
+Reynolds, Lord Clonbrony'--and then bob our two heads at one another,
+and scrape one foot back, and away!--where's the use of that nonsense
+at my time of life, or at any time of life? No, no! we have enough to
+do without that, I dare say.--Good morning to you, Count O'Halloran!
+I thank you heartily. From the first moment I saw you, I liked you:
+lucky too, that you brought your dog with you! 'Twas Hannibal made me
+first let you in; I saw him over the top of the blind. Hannibal, my
+good fellow! I'm more obliged to you than you can guess."
+
+"So are we all," said Lord Colambre.
+
+Hannibal was well patted, and then they parted. In returning home they
+met Sir James Brooke.
+
+"I told you," said Sir James, "I should be in London almost as soon as
+you. Have you found old Reynolds?"
+
+"Just come from him."
+
+"How does your business prosper? I hope as well as mine."
+
+A history of all that had passed up to the present moment was given,
+and hearty congratulations received.
+
+"Where are you going now, Sir James?--cannot you come with us?" said
+Lord Colambre and the count.
+
+"Impossible," replied Sir James;--"but, perhaps, you can come with
+me--I'm going to Rundell and Bridges', to give some old family
+diamonds either to be new set or exchanged. Count O'Halloran, I know
+you are a judge of these things; pray come and give me your opinion."
+
+"Better consult your bride elect!" said the count.
+
+"No; she knows little of the matter--and cares less," replied Sir
+James.
+
+"Not so this bride elect, or I mistake her much," said the count,
+as they passed by the window, at Rundell and Bridges', and saw Lady
+Isabel, who, with Lady Dashfort, had been holding consultation deep
+with the jeweller; and Heathcock, playing _personnage muet_.
+
+Lady Dashfort, who had always, as old Reynolds expressed it, "her
+head upon her shoulders,"--presence of mind where her interests were
+concerned, ran to the door before the count and Lord Colambre could
+enter, giving a hand to each--as if they had all parted the best
+friends in the world.
+
+"How do? how do?--Give you joy! give me joy! and all that. But mind!
+not a word," said she, laying her finger upon her lips, "not a word
+before Heathcock of old Reynolds, or of the best part of the old
+fool--his fortune!"
+
+The gentlemen bowed, in sign of submission to her ladyship's commands;
+and comprehended that she feared Heathcock might _be off_, if the best
+part of his bride (her fortune, or her _expectations_) were lowered in
+value or in prospect.
+
+"How low is she reduced," whispered Lord Colambre, "when such a
+husband is thought a prize--and to be secured by a manoeuvre!" He
+sighed.
+
+"Spare that generous sigh!" said Sir James Brooke: "it is wasted."
+
+Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror, at which she
+was trying on a diamond crescent. Her face clouded at the sight of
+Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, and grew dark as hatred when she
+saw Sir James Brooke. She walked away to the farther end of the shop,
+and asked one of the shopmen the price of a diamond necklace, which
+lay upon the counter.
+
+The man said he really did not know; it belonged to Lady Oranmore; it
+had just been new set for one of her ladyship's daughters, "who is
+going to be married to Sir James Brooke--one of the gentlemen, my
+lady, who are just come in."
+
+Then, calling to his master, he asked him the price of the necklace:
+he named the value, which was considerable.
+
+"I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters were vastly too
+philosophical to think of diamonds," said Lady Isabel to her mother,
+with a sort of sentimental sneer in her voice and countenance. "But it
+is some comfort to me to find, in these pattern-women, philosophy and
+love do not so wholly engross the heart, that they
+
+  "'Feel every vanity in fondness lost.'"
+
+"'Twould be difficult, in some cases," thought many present.
+
+"'Pon honour, di'monds are cursed expensive things, I know!" said
+Heathcock. "But, be that as it may," whispered he to the lady, though
+loud enough to be heard by others, "I've laid a damned round wager,
+that no woman's diamonds married this winter, under a countess, in
+Lon'on, shall eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock's! and Mr. Rundell here's
+to be judge."
+
+Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest smiles; one of
+those smiles which she had formerly bestowed upon Lord Colambre,
+and which he had once fancied expressed so much sensibility--such
+discriminative and delicate penetration.
+
+Our hero felt so much contempt, that he never wasted another sigh
+of pity for her degradation. Lady Dashfort came up to him as he was
+standing alone; and, whilst the count and Sir James were settling
+about the diamonds, "My Lord Colambre," said she, in a low voice, "I
+know your thoughts, and I could moralize as well as you, if I did not
+prefer laughing--you are right enough; and so am I, and so is Isabel;
+we are all right. For look here: women have not always the liberty of
+choice, and therefore they can't be expected to have always the power
+of refusal."
+
+The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got into her
+carriage with her daughter, her daughter's diamonds, and her precious
+son-in-law, her daughter's companion for life.
+
+"The more I see," said Count O'Halloran to Lord Colambre, as they
+left the shop, "the more I find reason to congratulate you upon your
+escape, my dear lord."
+
+"I owe it not to my own wit or wisdom," said Lord Colambre; "but much
+to love, and much to friendship," added he, turning to Sir James
+Brooke: "here was the friend who early warned me against the siren's
+voice; who, before I knew the Lady Isabel, told me what I have since
+found to be true, that
+
+ "'Two passions alternately govern her fate--Her
+   business is love, but her pleasure is hate,'"
+
+"That is dreadfully severe, Sir James," said Count O'Halloran; "but, I
+am afraid, is just."
+
+"I am sure it is just, or I would not have said it," replied Sir James
+Brooke. "For the foibles of the sex, I hope, I have as much indulgence
+as any man, and for the errors of passion as much pity; but I cannot
+repress the indignation, the abhorrence I feel against women cold
+and vain, who use their wit and their charms only to make others
+miserable."
+
+Lord Colambre recollected at this moment Lady Isabel's look and voice,
+when she declared that she would let her little finger be cut off to
+purchase the pleasure of inflicting on Lady De Cressy, for one hour,
+the torture of jealousy.
+
+"Perhaps," continued Sir James Brooke, "now that I am going to marry
+into an Irish family, I may feel, with peculiar energy, disapprobation
+of this mother and daughter on another account; but you, Lord
+Colambre, will do me the justice to recollect, that before I had any
+personal interest in the country, I expressed, as a general friend to
+Ireland, antipathy to those who return the hospitality they received
+from a warm-hearted people, by publicly setting the example of elegant
+sentimental hypocrisy, or daring disregard of decorum, by privately
+endeavouring to destroy the domestic peace of families, on which, at
+last, public as well as private virtue and happiness depend. I do
+rejoice, my dear Lord Colambre, to hear you say that I had any share
+in saving you from the siren; and now I will never speak of these
+ladies more. I am sorry you cannot stay in town to see--but why should
+I be sorry--we shall meet again, I trust, and I shall introduce you;
+and you, I hope, will introduce me to a very different charmer.
+Farewell!--you have my warm good wishes, wherever you go."
+
+Sir James turned off quickly to the street in which Lady Oranmore
+lived, and Lord Colambre had not time to tell him that he knew and
+admired his intended bride. Count O'Halloran promised to do this for
+him.
+
+"And now," said the good count, "I am to take leave of you; and I
+assure you I do it with so much reluctance, that nothing less than
+positive engagements to stay in town would prevent me from setting
+off with you to-morrow; but I shall be soon, very soon, at liberty to
+return to Ireland; and Clonbrony Castle, if you will give me leave, I
+will see before I see Halloran Castle."
+
+Lord Colambre joyfully thanked his friend for this promise.
+
+"Nay, it is to indulge myself. I long to see you happy--long to behold
+the choice of such a heart as yours. Pray do not steal a march upon
+me--let me know in time. I will leave every thing--even my friend the
+minister's secret expedition--for your wedding. But I trust I shall be
+in time."
+
+"Assuredly you will, my dear count; if ever that wedding--"
+
+"_If_," repeated the count.
+
+"_If_," repeated Lord Colambre. "Obstacles which, when we last parted,
+appeared to me invincible, prevented my having ever even attempted to
+make an impression on the heart of the woman I love: and if you knew
+her, count, as well as I do, you would know that her love could 'not
+unsought be won.'"
+
+"Of that I cannot doubt, or she would not be your choice; but when
+her love is sought, we have every reason to hope," said the count,
+smiling, "that it may, because it ought to be, won by tried honour and
+affection. I only require to be left in hope."
+
+"Well, I leave you hope," said Lord Colambre: "Miss Nugent--Miss
+Reynolds, I should say, has been in the habit of considering a union
+with me as impossible; my mother early instilled this idea into
+her mind. Miss Nugent thought that duty forbad her to think of me;
+she told me so: I have seen it in all her conduct and manners. The
+barriers of habit, the ideas of duty, cannot, ought not, to be thrown
+down, or suddenly changed, in a well-regulated female mind. And you,
+I am sure, know enough of the best female hearts, to be aware that
+time--"
+
+"Well, well, let this dear good charmer take her own time, provided
+there's none given to affectation, or prudery, or coquetry; and from
+all these, of course, she must be free; and of course I must be
+content. Adieu."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+As Lord Colambre was returning home, he was overtaken by Sir Terence
+O'Fay.
+
+"Well, my lord," cried Sir Terence, out of breath, "you have led me a
+pretty dance all over the town: here's a letter somewhere down in my
+safe pocket for you, which has cost me trouble enough. Phoo! where is
+it now?--it's from Miss Nugent," said he, holding up the letter. The
+direction to Grosvenor-square, London, had been scratched out; and it
+had been re-directed by Sir Terence to the Lord Viscount Colambre, at
+Sir James Brooke's, Bart., Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, or elsewhere,
+with speed, "But the more haste the worse speed; for away it went to
+Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, where I knew, if any where, you was to be
+found; but, as fate and the post would have it, there the letter went
+coursing after you, while you were running round, and _back_, and
+forwards, and every where, I understand, to Toddrington and Wrestham,
+and where not, through all them English places, where there's no
+cross-post: so I took it for granted that it found its way to the
+dead-letter office, or was sticking up across a pane in the d----d
+postmaster's window at Huntingdon, for the whole town to see, and it a
+love-letter, and some puppy to claim it, under false pretence; and you
+all the time without it, and it might breed a coolness betwixt you and
+Miss Nugent."
+
+"But, my dear Sir Terence, give me the letter now you have me."
+
+"Oh, my dear lord, if you knew what a race I have had, missing you
+here by five minutes, and there by five seconds--but I have you at
+last, and you have it--and I'm paid this minute for all I liquidated
+of my substance, by the pleasure I have in seeing you crack
+the seal and read it. But take care you don't tumble over the
+orange-woman--orange barrows are a great nuisance, when one's studying
+a letter in the streets of London, or the metropolis. But never heed;
+stick to my arm, and I'll guide you, like a blind man, safe through
+the thick of them."
+
+Miss Nugent's letter, which Lord Colambre read in spite of the
+jostling of passengers, and the incessant talking of Sir Terence, was
+as follows:--
+
+    "Let me not be the cause of banishing you from your home and your
+    country, where you would do so much good, and make so many happy.
+    Let me not be the cause of your breaking your promise to your
+    mother; of your disappointing my dear aunt so cruelly, who has
+    complied with all our wishes, and who sacrifices, to oblige us,
+    her favourite tastes. How could she be ever happy in Ireland--how
+    could Clonbrony Castle be a home to her without her son? If you
+    take away all she had of amusement and _pleasure_, as it is
+    called, are not you bound to give her, in their stead, that
+    domestic happiness, which she can enjoy only with you, and by your
+    means? If, instead of living with her, you go into the army, she
+    will be in daily, nightly anxiety and alarm about you; and her son
+    will, instead of being a comfort, be a source of torment to her.
+
+    "I will hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto
+    done, on every occasion where I have seen you act, what is right,
+    and just, and kind. Come here on the day you promised my aunt you
+    would; before that time I shall be in Cambridgeshire, with my
+    friend Lady Berryl; she is so good as to come to Buxton for me--I
+    shall remain with her, instead of returning to Ireland. I have
+    explained my reasons to my dear aunt--Could I have any concealment
+    from her, to whom, from my earliest childhood, I owe every thing
+    that kindness and affection could give? She is satisfied--she
+    consents to my living henceforward with Lady Berryl. Let me have
+    the pleasure of seeing by your conduct, that you approve of mine.
+
+    "Your affectionate cousin
+
+    "and friend,
+
+    "GRACE NUGENT."
+
+This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are capable
+of feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our hero exquisite
+pleasure. Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O'Fay enjoyed his lordship's
+delight; and forgot himself so completely, that he never even inquired
+whether Lord Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had spoken
+to him some time before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence's
+interest. The next morning, when the carriage was at the door, and
+Sir Terence was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and
+actually in tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he
+said there was none left now in London, or the wide world even, for
+him--Lord Colambre went up to him, and said, "Sir Terence, you have
+never inquired whether I have done your business."
+
+"Oh, my dear, I'm not thinking of that now--time enough by the post--I
+can write after you; but my thoughts won't turn for me to business
+now--no matter."
+
+"Your business is done," replied Lord Colambre.
+
+"Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you had upon your
+mind and heart. When any thing's upon my heart, good morning to my
+head, it's not worth a lemon. Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly,
+and all happiness attend you."
+
+"Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O'Fay," said Lord Clonbrony; "and, since
+it's so ordered, I must live without you."
+
+"Oh! you'll live better without me, my lord; I am not a good liver, I
+know, nor the best of all companions, for a nobleman, young or old;
+and now you'll be rich, and not put to your shifts and your wits, what
+would I have to do for you?--Sir Terence O'Fay, you know, was only
+_the poor nobleman's friend_, and you'll never want to call upon him
+again, thanks to your jewel, your Pitt's-diamond of a son there. So
+we part here, and depend upon it you're better without me--that's all
+my comfort, or my heart would break. The carriage is waiting this
+long time, and this young lover's aching to be off. God bless you
+both!--that's my last word."
+
+They called in Red Lion-square, punctual to the moment, on old Mr.
+Reynolds, but his window-shutters were shut; he had been seized in
+the night with a violent fit of the gout, which, as he said, held him
+fast by the leg. "But here," said he, giving Lord Colambre a letter,
+"here's what will do your business without me. Take this written
+acknowledgment I have penned for you, and give my grand-daughter her
+father's letter to read--it would touch a heart of stone--touched
+mine--wish I could drag the mother back out of her grave, to do her
+justice--all one now. You see, at last, I'm not a suspicious rascal,
+however, for I don't suspect you of palming a false grand-daughter
+upon me."
+
+"Will you," said Lord Colambre, "give your grand-daughter leave to
+come up to town to you, sir! You would satisfy yourself, at least, as
+to what resemblance she may bear to her father: Miss Reynolds will
+come instantly, and she will nurse you."
+
+"No, no; I won't have her come. If she comes, I won't see her--sha'n't
+begin by nursing me--not selfish. As soon as I get rid of this gout,
+I shall be my own man, and young again, and I'll soon be after you
+across the sea, that sha'n't stop me: I'll come to--what's the name
+of your place in Ireland?--and see what likeness I can find to her
+poor father in this grand-daughter of mine, that you puffed so finely
+yesterday. And let me see whether she will wheedle me as finely as
+Mrs. Petito would. Don't get ready your marriage settlements, do you
+hear? till you have seen my will, which I shall sign at--what's the
+name of your place? Write it down there; there's pen and ink; and
+leave me, for the twinge is coming, and I shall roar."
+
+"Will you permit me, sir, to leave my own servant with you to take
+care of you? I can answer for his attention and fidelity."
+
+"Let me see his face, and I'll tell you."
+
+Lord Colambre's servant was summoned.
+
+"Yes, I like his face. God bless you!--Leave me."
+
+Lord Colambre gave his servant a charge to bear with Mr. Reynolds'
+rough manner and temper, and to pay the poor old gentleman every
+possible attention. Then our hero proceeded with his father on his
+journey, and on this journey nothing happened worthy of note. On his
+first perusal of the letter from Grace, Lord Colambre had feared that
+she would have left Buxton with Lady Berryl before he could reach it;
+but, upon recollection, he hoped that the few lines he had written,
+addressed to his mother _and_ Miss Nugent, with the assurance that
+he should be with them on Wednesday, would be sufficient to show her
+that some great change had happened, and consequently sufficient to
+prevent her from quitting her aunt, till she could know whether such
+a separation would be necessary. He argued wisely, more wisely than
+Grace had reasoned; for, notwithstanding this note, she would have
+left Buxton before his arrival, but for Lady Berryl's strength of
+mind, and positive determination not to set out with her till Lord
+Colambre should arrive to explain. In the interval, poor Grace was,
+indeed, in an anxious state of suspense; and her uncertainty, whether
+she was doing right or wrong, by staying to see Lord Colambre,
+tormented her most.
+
+"My dear, you cannot help yourself: be quiet," said Lady Berryl: "I
+will take the whole upon my conscience; and I hope my conscience may
+never have any thing worse to answer for."
+
+Grace was the first person who, from her window, saw Lord Colambre,
+the instant the carriage drove to the door. She ran to her friend Lady
+Berryl's apartment. "He is come!--Now, take me away."
+
+"Not yet, my sweet friend! Lie down upon this sofa, if you please; and
+keep yourself tranquil, whilst I go and see what you ought to do; and
+depend upon me for a true friend, in whose mind, as in your own, duty
+is the first object."
+
+"I depend on you entirely," said Grace, sinking down on the sofa: "and
+you see I obey you!"
+
+"Many thanks to you for lying down, when you can't stand."
+
+Lady Berryl went to Lord Clonbrony's apartment; she was met by Sir
+Arthur. "Come, my love! come quick!--Lord Colambre is arrived."
+
+"I know it; and does he go to Ireland? Speak instantly, that I may
+tell Grace Nugent."
+
+"You can tell her nothing yet, my love; for we know nothing. Lord
+Colambre will not say a word till you come; but I know, by his
+countenance, that he has good and extraordinary news."
+
+They passed rapidly along the passage to Lady Clonbrony's room.
+
+"Oh, my dear, dear Lady Berryl, come! or I shall die with impatience,"
+cried Lady Clonbrony, in a voice and manner between laughing and
+crying. "There, now you have congratulated, are very happy, and very
+glad, and all that--now, for mercy's sake, sit down, Lord Clonbrony!
+for Heaven's sake, sit down--beside me here--or any where! Now,
+Colambre, begin; and tell us all at once!"
+
+But as nothing is so tedious as a twice told tale, Lord Colambre's
+narrative need not here be repeated. He began with Count O'Halloran's
+visit, immediately after Lady Clonbrony had left London; and went
+through the history of the discovery that Captain Reynolds was
+the husband of Miss St. Omar, and the father of Grace: the dying
+acknowledgment of his marriage; the packet delivered by Count
+O'Halloran to the careless ambassador--how recovered, by the
+assistance of his executor, Sir James Brooke; the travels from
+Wrestham to Toddrington, and thence to Red Lion-square; the interview
+with old Reynolds, and its final result: all was related as succinctly
+as the impatient curiosity of Lord Colambre's auditors could desire.
+
+"Oh, wonder upon wonder! and joy upon joy!" cried Lady Clonbrony. "So
+my darling Grace is as legitimate as I am, and an heiress after all.
+Where is she? where is she? In your room, Lady Berryl?--Oh, Colambre!
+why wouldn't you let her be by?--Lady Berryl, do you know, he would
+not let me send for her, though she was the person of all others most
+concerned!"
+
+"For that very reason, ma'am; and that Lord Colambre was quite right,
+I am sure you must be sensible, when you recollect, that Grace has no
+idea that she is not the daughter of Mr. Nugent: she has no suspicion
+that the breath of blame ever lighted upon her mother. This part of
+the story cannot be announced to her with too much caution; and,
+indeed, her mind has been so much harassed and agitated, and she is at
+present so far from strong, that great delicacy--."
+
+"True! very true, Lady Berryl," interrupted Lady Clonbrony; "and I'll
+be as delicate as you please about it afterwards: but, in the first
+and foremost place, I must tell her the best part of the story--that
+she's an heiress; that never killed any body!"
+
+So, darting through all opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her way into
+the room where Grace was lying--"Yes, get up! get up! my own Grace,
+and be surprised--well you may!--you are an heiress, after all."
+
+"Am I, my dear aunt?" said Grace.
+
+"True, as I'm Lady Clonbrony--and a very great heiress--and no more
+Colambre's cousin than Lady Berryl here. So now begin and love him as
+fast as you please--I give my consent--and here he is."
+
+Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared at the door.
+
+"Ob, mother! what have you done?"
+
+"What have I done?" cried Lady Clonbrony, following her son's
+eyes:--"Lord bless me!--Grace fainted dead--Lady Berryl! Oh, what have
+I done? My dear Lady Berryl, what shall we do?"
+
+Lady Berryl hastened to her friend's assistance.
+
+"There! her colour's coming again," said Lord Clonbrony; "come away,
+my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so will I--though I long
+to talk to the darling girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet."
+
+When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl leaning over
+her, and, raising herself a little, she said, "What has happened?--I
+don't know yet--I don't know whether I am happy or not.--Explain all
+this to me, my dear friend; for I am still as if I were in a dream."
+
+With all the delicacy which Lady Clonbrony deemed superfluous, Lady
+Berryl explained. Nothing could surpass the astonishment of Grace,
+on first learning that Mr. Nugent was not her father. When she was
+told of the stigma that had been cast on her birth; the suspicions,
+the disgrace, to which her mother had been subjected for so many
+years--that mother, whom she had so loved and respected; who had, with
+such care, instilled into the mind of her daughter the principles
+of virtue and religion; that mother whom Grace had always seen the
+example of every virtue she taught; on whom her daughter never
+suspected that the touch of blame, the breath of scandal, could
+rest--Grace could express her sensations only by repeating, in tones
+of astonishment, pathos, indignation--"My mother!--my mother!--my
+mother!"
+
+For some time she was incapable of attending to any other idea, or
+of feeling any other sensations. When her mind was able to admit the
+thought, her friend soothed her, by recalling the expressions of Lord
+Colambre's love--the struggle by which he had been agitated, when he
+fancied a union with her opposed by an invincible obstacle.
+
+Grace sighed, and acknowledged that, in prudence, it ought to have
+been an _invincible_ obstacle--she admired the firmness of his
+decision, the honour with which he had acted towards her. One moment
+she exclaimed, "Then, if I had been the daughter of a mother who had
+conducted herself ill, he never would have trusted me!" The next
+moment she recollected, with pleasure, the joy she had just seen in
+his eyes--the affection, the passion, that spoke in every word and
+look; then dwelt upon the sober certainty, that all obstacles were
+removed. "And no duty opposes my loving him!--And my aunt wishes it!
+my kind aunt! and my dear uncle! should not I go to him?--But he is
+not my uncle, she is not my aunt. I cannot bring myself to think that
+they are not my relations, and that I am nothing to them."
+
+"You may be every thing to them, my dear Grace," said Lady
+Berryl:--"whenever you please, you may be their daughter."
+
+Grace blushed, and smiled, and sighed, and was consoled. But then she
+recollected her new relation, Mr. Reynolds, her grandfather, whom she
+had never seen, who had for years disowned her--treated her mother
+with injustice. She could scarcely think of him with complacency: yet,
+when his age, his sufferings, his desolate state, were represented,
+she pitied him; and, faithful to her strong sense of duty, would
+have gone instantly to offer him every assistance and attention in
+her power. Lady Berryl assured her that Mr. Reynolds had positively
+forbidden her going to him; and that he had assured Lord Colambre he
+would not see her if she went to him. After such rapid and varied
+emotions, poor Grace desired repose, and her friend took care that it
+should be secured to her for the remainder of the day.
+
+In the mean time, Lord Clonbrony had kindly and judiciously employed
+his lady in a discussion about certain velvet furniture, which Grace
+had painted for the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle.
+
+In Lady Clonbrony's mind, as in some bad paintings, there was no
+_keeping_; all objects, great and small, were upon the same level.
+
+The moment her son entered the room, her ladyship exclaimed, "Every
+thing pleasant at once! Here's your father tells me, Grace's velvet
+furniture's all packed: really Soho's the best man in the world of his
+kind, and the cleverest--and so, after all, my dear Colambre, as I
+always hoped and prophesied, at last you will marry an heiress."
+
+"And Terry," said Lord Clonbrony, "will win his wager from Mordicai."
+
+"Terry!" repeated Lady Clonbrony, "that odious Terry!--I hope, my
+lord, that he is not to be one of my comforts in Ireland."
+
+"No, my dear mother; he is much better provided for than we could
+have expected. One of my father's first objects was to prevent him
+from being any encumbrance to you. We consulted him as to the means
+of making him happy; and the knight acknowledged that he had long
+been casting a sheep's eye at a little snug place, that will soon be
+open in his native country--the chair of assistant barrister at the
+sessions. Assistant barrister!' said my father; 'but, my dear Terry,
+you have been all your life evading the laws, and very frequently
+breaking the peace; do you think this has qualified you peculiarly for
+being a guardian of the laws?' Sir Terence replied, 'Yes, sure; set
+a thief to catch a thief is no bad maxim. And did not Mr. Colquhoun,
+the Scotchman, get himself made a great justice, by his making all the
+world as wise as himself, about thieves of all sorts, by land and by
+water, and in the air too, where he detected the mud-larks?--And is
+not Barrington chief-justice of Botany Bay?"
+
+"My father now began to be seriously alarmed, lest Sir Terence should
+insist upon his using his interest to make him an assistant barrister.
+He was not aware that five years' practice at the bar was a necessary
+accomplishment for this office; when, fortunately for all parties, my
+good friend, Count O'Halloran, helped us out of the difficulty, by
+starting an idea full of practical justice. A literary friend of the
+count's had been for some time promised a lucrative situation under
+government: but, unfortunately, he was a man of so much merit and
+ability, that they could not find employment for him at home, and they
+gave him a commission, I should rather say a contract abroad, for
+supplying the army with Hungarian horses. Now the gentleman had not
+the slightest skill in horse-flesh; and, as Sir Terence is a complete
+_jockey_, the count observed that he would be the best possible deputy
+for his literary friend. We warranted him to be a thorough going
+friend; and I do think the coalition will be well for both parties.
+The count has settled it all, and I left Sir Terence comfortably
+provided for, out of your way, my dear mother; and as happy as he
+could be, when parting from my father."
+
+Lord Colambre was assiduous in engaging his mother's attention upon
+any subject, which could for the present draw her thoughts away from
+her young friend; but at every pause in the conversation, her ladyship
+repeated, "So Grace is an heiress after all--so, after all, they know
+they are not cousins! Well, I prefer Grace, a thousand times over, to
+any other heiress in England. No obstacle, no objection. They have my
+consent. I always prophesied Colambre would marry an heiress; but why
+not marry directly?"
+
+Her ardour and impatience to hurry things forward seemed now likely to
+retard the accomplishment of her own wishes; and Lord Clonbrony, who
+understood rather more of the passion of love than his lady ever had
+felt or understood, saw the agony into which she threw her son, and
+felt for his darling Grace. With a degree of delicacy and address of
+which few would have supposed Lord Clonbrony capable, his lordship
+co-operated with his son in endeavouring to keep Lady Clonbrony
+quiet, and to suppress the hourly thanksgivings of Grace's _turning
+out an heiress_. On one point, however, she vowed she would not be
+overruled--she would have a splendid wedding at Clonbrony Castle, such
+as should become an heir and heiress; and the wedding, she hoped,
+would be immediately on their return to Ireland: she should announce
+the thing to her friends directly on her arrival at Clonbrony Castle.
+
+"My dear," said Lord Clonbrony, "we must wait, in the first place, the
+pleasure of old Mr. Reynolds' fit of the gout."
+
+"Why, that's true, because of his will," said her ladyship; "but a
+will's soon made, is not it? That can't be much delay."
+
+"And then there must be settlements," said Lord Clonbrony; "they take
+time. Lovers, like all the rest of mankind, must submit to the law's
+delay. In the mean time, my dear, as these Buxton baths agree with you
+so well, and as Grace does not seem to be over and above strong for
+travelling a long journey, and as there are many curious and beautiful
+scenes of nature here in Derbyshire--Matlock, and the wonders of the
+Peak, and so on--which the young people would be glad to see together,
+and may not have another opportunity soon--why not rest ourselves a
+little? For another reason, too," continued his lordship, bringing
+together as many arguments as he could--for he had often found,
+that though Lady Clonbrony was a match for any single argument, her
+understanding could be easily overpowered by a number, of whatever
+sort--"besides, my dear, here's Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl come to
+Buxton on purpose to meet us; and we owe them some compliment, and
+something more than compliment, I think: so I don't see why we should
+be in a hurry to leave them, or quit Buxton--a few weeks sooner or
+later can't signify--and Clonbrony Castle will be getting all the
+while into better order for us. Burke is gone down there; and if we
+stay here quietly, there will be time for the velvet furniture to get
+there before us, and to be unpacked, and up in the drawing-room."
+
+"That's true, my lord," said Lady Clonbrony; "and there is a great
+deal of reason in all you say--so I second that motion, as Colambre, I
+see, subscribes to it."
+
+They stayed some time in Derbyshire, and every day Lord Clonbrony
+proposed some pleasant excursion, and contrived that the young people
+should be left to themselves, as Mrs. Broadhurst used so strenuously
+to advise; the recollection of whose authoritative maxims fortunately
+still operated upon Lady Clonbrony, to the great ease and advantage of
+the lovers.
+
+Happy as a lover, a friend, a son; happy in the consciousness of
+having restored a father to respectability, and persuaded a mother
+to quit the feverish joys of fashion for the pleasures of domestic
+life; happy in the hope of winning the whole heart of the woman he
+loved, and whose esteem, he knew, he possessed and deserved; happy
+in developing every day, every hour, fresh charms in his destined
+bride--we leave our hero, returning to his native country.
+
+And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that he will support
+through life the promise of his early character; that his patriotic
+views will extend with his power to carry wishes into action; that his
+attachment to his warm-hearted countrymen will still increase upon
+further acquaintance; and that he will long diffuse happiness through
+the wide circle, which is peculiarly subject to the influence and
+example of a great resident Irish proprietor.
+
+    LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT MR. MORDICAI'S,
+    COACH MAKER, LONDON.
+
+    "MY DEAR BROTHER,
+
+    "Yours of the 16th, enclosing the five pound note for my father,
+    came safe to hand Monday last; and with his thanks and blessing
+    to you, he commends it to you herewith enclosed back again, on
+    account of his being in no immediate necessity, nor likelihood to
+    want in future, as you shall hear forthwith; but wants you over
+    with all speed, and the note will answer for travelling charges;
+    for we can't enjoy the luck it has pleased God to give us, without
+    _yees_; put the rest in your pocket, and read it when you've time.
+
+    "Old Nick's gone, and St. Dennis along with him, to the place he
+    come from--praise be to God! The _ould_ lord has found him out in
+    his tricks; and I helped him to that, through the young lord that
+    I driv, as I informed you in my last, when he was a Welshman,
+    which was the best turn ever I did, though I did not know it no
+    more than Adam that time. So _Ould_ Nick's turned out of the
+    agency clean and clear; and the day after it was known, there was
+    surprising great joy through the whole country; not surprising,
+    either, but just what you might, knowing him, rasonably expect.
+    He (that is, Old Nick and St. Dennis) would have been burnt that
+    night--I _mane_, in _effigy_, through the town of Clonbrony, but
+    that the new man, Mr. Burke, came down that day too soon to stop
+    it, and said, 'it was not becoming to trample on the fallen,' or
+    something that way, that put an end to it; and though it was a
+    great disappointment to many, and to me in particular, I could not
+    but like the jantleman the better for it any how. They say he is
+    a very good jantleman, and as unlike Old Nick or the saint as can
+    be; and takes no duty fowl, nor glove, nor sealing money; nor asks
+    duty work nor duty turf. Well, when I was disappointed of the
+    _effigy_, I comforted myself by making a bonfire of Old Nick's big
+    rick of duty turf, which, by great luck, was out in the road, away
+    from all dwelling-house, or thatch, or yards, to take fire: so no
+    danger in life, or objection. And such another blaze! I wished
+    you'd seed it--and all the men, women, and children, in the town
+    and country, far and near, gathered round it, shouting and dancing
+    like mad!--and it was light as day quite across the bog, as far as
+    Hartley Finnigan's house. And I heard after, they seen it from all
+    parts of the three counties, and they thought it was St. John's
+    Eve in a mistake--or couldn't make out what it was; but all took
+    it in good part, for a good sign, and were in great joy. As for
+    St. Dennis and _Ould_ Nick, an attorney had his foot upon 'em with
+    an habere, a latitat, and three executions hanging over 'em: and
+    there's the end of rogues! and a great example in the country.
+    And--no more about it; for I can't be wasting more ink upon them
+    that don't deserve it at my hands, when I want it for them that
+    do, as you shall see. So some weeks past, and there was great
+    cleaning at Clonbrony Castle, and in the town of Clonbrony; and
+    the new agent's smart and clever: and he had the glaziers, and
+    the painters, and the slaters, up and down in the town wherever
+    wanted; and you wouldn't know it again. Thinks I, this is no bad
+    sign! Now, cock up your ears, Pat! for the great news is coming,
+    and the good. The master's come home, long life to him! and family
+    come home yesterday, all entirely! The _ould_ lord and the young
+    lord, (ay, there's the man, Paddy!) and my lady, and Miss Nugent.
+    And I driv Miss Nugent's maid and another; so I had the luck to be
+    in it along _wid_ 'em, and see all, from first to last. And first,
+    I must tell you, my young Lord Colambre remembered and noticed me
+    the minute he lit at our inn, and condescended to beckon me out of
+    the yard to him, and axed me--' Friend Larry,' says he, 'did you
+    keep your promise?'--'My oath again the whiskey, is it?' says
+    I. 'My lord, I surely did,' said I; which was true, as all the
+    country knows I never tasted a drop since. 'And I'm proud to see
+    your honour, my lord, as good as your word, too, and back again
+    among us.' So then there was a call for the horses; and no more at
+    that time passed betwix' my young lord and me, but that he pointed
+    me out to the _ould_ one, as I went off. I noticed and thanked him
+    for it in my heart, though I did not know all the good was to come
+    of it. Well, no more of myself, for the present.
+
+    "Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to the great gate of
+    the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see;
+    with the sun shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies
+    noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in
+    the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about, and
+    kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were singing,
+    and I stopped whistling, that they might hear them; but sorrow
+    bit could they hear when they got to the park gate, for there was
+    such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see--and they had
+    the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew 'em home, with
+    blessings, through the park. And, God bless 'em! when they got
+    out, they didn't go shut themselves up in the great drawing-room,
+    but went straight out to the _tir_rass, to satisfy the eyes and
+    hearts that followed them. My lady _laning_ on my young lord, and
+    Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest angel that ever you
+    set eyes on, with the finest complexion, and sweetest of smiles,
+    _laning_ upon the _ould_ lord's arm, who had his hat off, bowing
+    to all, and noticing the old tenants as he passed by name. Oh,
+    there was great gladness and tears in the midst; for joy I could
+    scarce keep from myself.
+
+    "After a turn or two upon the _tir_rass, my Lord Colambre _quit_
+    his mother's arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the
+    slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some one.
+
+    "'Is it the Widow O'Neil, my lord?' says I; 'she's yonder, with
+    the white kerchief, betwixt her son and daughter, as usual.'
+
+    "Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the _tree_
+    would stir; and then he gave _tree_ beckons with his own finger,
+    and they all _tree_ came fast enough to the bottom of the slope
+    forenent my lord: and he went down and helped the widow up, (oh,
+    he's the true jantleman!) and brought 'em all _tree_ up on the
+    _tir_rass, to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close after,
+    that I might hear, which wasn't manners, but I couldn't help
+    it. So what he said I don't well know, for I could not get near
+    enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take the
+    Widow O'Neil by the hand, and then my Lord Colambre _'troduced_
+    Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the word _namesake_, and
+    something about a check curtain; but, whatever it was, they was
+    all greatly pleased: then my Lord Colambre turned and looked for
+    Brian, who had fell back, and took him, with some commendation, to
+    my lord his father. And my lord the master said, which I didn't
+    know till after, that they should have their house and farm at the
+    _ould_ rent; and at the surprise, the widow dropped down dead; and
+    there was a cry as for ten _berrings_. 'Be qui'te,' says I, 'she's
+    only kilt for joy;' and I went and lift her up, for her son had
+    no more strength that minute than the child new born; and Grace
+    trembled like a leaf, as white as the sheet, but not long, for the
+    mother came to, and was as well as ever when I brought some water,
+    which Miss Nugent handed to her with her own hand.
+
+    "'That was always pretty and good,' said the widow, laying her
+    hand upon Miss Nugent, 'and kind and good to me and mine.'
+
+    "That minute there was music from below. The blind harper, O'Neil,
+    with his harp, that struck up 'Gracey Nugent.'
+
+    "And that finished, and my Lord Colambre smiling, with the tears
+    standing in his eyes too, and the _ould_ lord quite wiping his, I
+    ran to the _tir_rass brink to bid O'Neil play it again; but as I
+    run, I thought I heard a voice call 'Larry!'
+
+    "'Who calls Larry?' says I.
+
+    "'My Lord Colambre calls you, Larry,' says all at once; and four
+    takes me by the shoulders and spins me round. 'There's my young
+    lord calling you, Larry--run for your life.'
+
+    "So I run back for my life, and walked respectful, with my hat in
+    my hand, when I got near.
+
+    "'Put on your hat, my father desires it,' says my Lord Colambre.
+    The _ould_ lord made a sign to that purpose, but was too full
+    to speak. 'Where's your father?' continues my young lord. 'He's
+    very _ould_, my lord,' says I.--' I didn't _ax_ you how _ould_ he
+    was,' says he; 'but where is he?'--'He's behind the crowd below,
+    on account of his infirmities; he couldn't walk so fast as the
+    rest, my lord,' says I; 'but his heart is with you, if not his
+    body.'--'I must have his body too: so bring him bodily before
+    us; and this shall be your warrant for so doing,' said my lord,
+    joking: for he knows the _natur_ of us, Paddy, and how we love a
+    joke in our hearts, as well as if he had lived all his life in
+    Ireland; and by the same token will, for that _rason_, do what he
+    pleases with us, and more may be than a man twice as good, that
+    never would smile on us.
+
+    "But I'm telling you of my father. 'I've a warrant for you,
+    father,' says I; 'and must have you bodily before the justice, and
+    my lord chief justice.' So he changed colour a bit at first; but
+    he saw me smile. 'And I've done no sin,' said he; 'and, Larry, you
+    may lead me now, as you led me all my life.'
+
+    "And up the slope he went with me as light as fifteen; and when we
+    got up, my Lord Clonbrony said, 'I am sorry an old tenant, and a
+    good old tenant, as I hear you were, should have been turned out
+    of your farm.'
+
+    "'Don't fret, it's no great matter, my lord,' said my father. 'I
+    shall be soon out of the way; but if you would be so kind to speak
+    a word for my boy here, and that I could afford, while the life is
+    in me, to bring my other boy back out of banishment.'
+
+    "'Then,' says my Lord Clonbrony, 'I'll give you and your sons
+    three lives, or thirty-one years, from this day, of your former
+    farm. Return to it when you please. And,' added my Lord Clonbrony,
+    'the flaggers, I hope, will be soon banished.' Oh, how could
+    I thank him--not a word could I proffer--but I know I clasped
+    my two hands, and prayed for him inwardly. And my father was
+    dropping down on his knees, but the master would not let him; and
+    _obsarved_ that posture should only be for his God. And, sure
+    enough, in that posture, when he was out of sight, we did pray for
+    him that night, and will all our days.
+
+    "But, before we quit his presence, he called me back, and bid me
+    write to my brother, and bring you back, if you've no objections,
+    to your own country.
+
+    "So come, my dear Pat, and make no delay, for joy's not joy
+    compl_a_te till you're in it--my father sends his blessing, and
+    Peggy her love. The family entirely is to settle for good in
+    Ireland, and there was in the castle yard last night a bonfire
+    made by my lord's orders of the _ould_ yellow damask furniture, to
+    plase my lady, my lord says. And the drawing-room, the butler was
+    telling me, is new hung; and the chairs with velvet as white as
+    snow, and shaded over with natural flowers by Miss Nugent. Oh! how
+    I hope what I guess will come true, and I've _rason_ to believe it
+    will, for I dreamt in my bed last night it did. But keep yourself
+    to yourself--that Miss Nugent (who is no more Miss Nugent, they
+    say, but Miss Reynolds, and has a new-found grandfather, and is a
+    big heiress, which she did not want in my eyes, nor in my young
+    lord's), I've a notion, will be sometime, and may be sooner
+    than is expected, my Lady Viscountess Colambre--so haste to the
+    wedding. And there's another thing: they say the rich _ould_
+    grandfather's coming over;--and another thing, Pat, you would not
+    be out of the fashion--and you see it's growing the fashion not to
+    be an Absentee.
+
+    "Your loving brother,
+
+    "LARRY BRADY."
+
+1812.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE FLEURY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+  "There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
+  The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall.
+  How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?"--POPE.
+
+
+"D'abord, madame, c'est impossible!--Madame ne descendra pas
+ici?[1]" said François, the footman of Mad. de Fleury, with a half
+expostulatory, half indignant look, as he let down the step of her
+carriage at the entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the
+most miserable-looking houses in Paris.
+
+[Footnote 1: In the first place, my lady, it is impossible! Surely my
+lady will not get out of her carriage here?]
+
+"But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this house?"
+said Mad. de Fleury.
+
+"'Tis only some child, who is crying," replied François: and he would
+have put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.
+
+"'Tis nothing in the world," continued he, with a look of appeal to
+the coachman, "it _can_ be nothing, but some children, who are locked
+up there above. The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at
+home, that's certain."
+
+"I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children,"
+said Mad. de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.
+
+François held his arm for his lady as she got out.
+
+"Bon!" cried he, with an air of vexation. "Si madame la veut
+absolument, à la bonne heure!--Mais madame sera abimée. Madame
+verra que j'ai raison. Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier.
+D'ailleurs c'est an cinquième. Mais, madame, c'est impossible."[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: To be sure it must be as my lady pleases--but my lady
+will find it terribly dirty!--my Lady will find I was right--my lady
+will never get up that shocking staircase--it is impossible!]
+
+Notwithstanding the impossibility, Mad. de Fleury proceeded; and
+bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the
+dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every
+instant, till, as she reached the fifth story, she heard the shrieks
+of one in violent pain. She hastened to the door of the room from
+which the cries proceeded; the door was fastened, and the noise was
+so great, that though she knocked as loud as she was able, she could
+not immediately make herself heard. At last the voice of a child from
+within answered, "The door is locked--mamma has the key in her pocket,
+and won't be home till night; and here's Victoire has tumbled from the
+top of the big press, and it is she that is shrieking so."
+
+Mad. de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so
+much difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
+despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from
+some people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door
+of the room in which the children were confined.
+
+On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly that
+he did not hear the screams of the children. When his door was pushed
+open, and the bright vision of Mad. de Fleury appeared to him, his
+astonishment was so great that he seemed incapable of comprehending
+what she said. In a strong provincial accent he repeated,
+"_Plait-il?_" and stood aghast till she had explained herself three
+times: then suddenly exclaiming, "Ah! c'est ça!"--he collected his
+tools precipitately, and followed to obey her orders. The door of
+the room was at last forced half open, for a press that had been
+overturned prevented its opening entirely. The horrible smells that
+issued did not overcome Mad. de Fleury's humanity: she squeezed her
+way into the room, and behind the fallen press saw three little
+children: the youngest, almost an infant, ceased roaring, and ran
+to a corner: the eldest, a boy of about eight years old, whose face
+and clothes were covered with blood, held on his knee a girl younger
+than himself, whom he was trying to pacify, but who struggled most
+violently, and screamed incessantly, regardless of Mad. de Fleury, to
+whose questions she made no answer.
+
+"Where are you hurt, my dear?" repeated Mad. de Fleury in a soothing
+voice. "Only tell me where you feel pain?"
+
+The boy, showing his sister's arm, said, in a surly tone--"It is this
+that is hurt--but it was not I did it."
+
+"It was, it _was_," cried the girl as loud as she could vociferate:
+"it was Maurice threw me down from the top of the press."
+
+"No--it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you fell
+backwards.--Have done screeching, and show your arm to the lady."
+
+"I can't," said the girl.
+
+"She won't," said the boy.
+
+"She _cannot_," said Mad. de Fleury, kneeling down to examine it. "She
+cannot move it: I am afraid that it is broken."
+
+"Don't touch it! don't touch it!" cried the girl, screaming more
+violently.
+
+"Ma'am, she screams that way for nothing often," said the boy. "Her
+arm is no more broke than mine, I'm sure; she'll move it well enough
+when she's not cross."
+
+"I am afraid," said Mad. de Fleury, "that her arm is broken."
+
+"Is it indeed?" said the boy, with a look of terror.
+
+"Oh! don't touch it--you'll kill me, you are killing me," screamed the
+poor girl, whilst Mad. de Fleury with the greatest care endeavoured
+to join the bones in their proper place, and resolved to hold the arm
+till the arrival of the surgeon.
+
+From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have
+expected such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and
+graceful delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or
+affectation, which incapacitates from being useful in real distress.
+In most sudden accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female
+resolution and presence of mind are indispensably requisite: safety,
+health, and life, often depend upon the fortitude of women. Happy
+they, who, like Mad. de Fleury, possess strength of mind united with
+the utmost gentleness of manner and tenderness of disposition!
+
+Soothed by this lady's sweet voice, the child's rage subsided; and
+no longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly on her lap,
+sometimes writhing and moaning with pain.
+
+The surgeon at length arrived: her arm was set: and he said, "that she
+had probably been saved much future pain by Mad. de Fleury's presence
+of mind."
+
+"Sir,--will it soon be well?" said Maurice to the surgeon.
+
+"Oh, yes, very soon, I dare say," said the little girl. "To-morrow,
+perhaps; for now that it is tied up, it does not hurt me to
+signify--and after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not you threw me
+down."
+
+As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.--"That is
+right," said Mad. de Fleury; "there is a good sister."
+
+The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the boy
+turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the back of
+his hand.
+
+"I am not cross now: am I, Maurice?" said she.
+
+"No, Victoire, I was cross myself when I said _that_."
+
+As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet. Mad.
+de Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had cleared it of
+the things with which it was covered; and as they were spreading the
+ragged blanket over the little girl, she whispered a request to Mad.
+de Fleury, that she would "stay till her mamma came home, to beg
+Maurice off from being whipped, if mamma should be angry."
+
+Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the desolate
+condition of these children, Mad. de Fleury complied with Victoire's
+request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother for leaving them
+locked up in this manner. They did not know to what part of the town
+their mother was gone; they could tell only, "that she was to go to
+a great many different places to carry back work, and to bring home
+more; and that she expected to be in by five." It was now half after
+four.
+
+Whilst Mad. de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full
+account of the manner in which the accident had happened.
+
+"Why, ma'am," said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged
+handkerchief as he spoke, "the first beginning of all the mischief
+was, we had nothing to do; so we went to the ashes to make dirt pies:
+but Babet would go so close that she burnt her petticoat, and threw
+about all our ashes, and plagued us, and we whipped her: but all would
+not do, she would not be quiet; so to get out of her reach, we climbed
+up by this chair on the table to the top of the press, and there we
+were well enough for a little while, till somehow we began to quarrel
+about the old scissors, and we struggled hard for them till I got this
+cut."
+
+Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
+wound, which he had never mentioned before.
+
+"Then," continued he, "when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and she
+pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot slipped,
+and down she fell; and caught by the press-door, and pulled it and me
+after her, and that's all I know."
+
+"It is well that you were not both killed," said Mad. de Fleury. "Are
+you often left locked up in this manner by yourselves, and without any
+thing to do?"
+
+"Yes, always, when mamma is abroad--except sometimes we are let out
+upon the stairs, or in the street; but mamma says we get into mischief
+there."
+
+This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother. She came up
+stairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under her arm.
+
+"How now! Maurice, how comes my door open? What's all this?" cried
+she, in an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting upon her child's
+bed, she stopped short in great astonishment. Mad. de Fleury related
+what had happened, and averted her anger from Maurice, by gently
+expostulating upon the hardship and hazard of leaving her young
+children in this manner during so many hours of the day.
+
+"Why, my lady," replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead, "every
+hard-working woman in Paris does the same with her children; and what
+can I do else? I must earn bread for these helpless ones, and to do
+that I must be out backwards and forwards, and to the furthest parts
+of the town, often from morning till night, with those that employ me;
+and I cannot afford to send the children to school, or to keep any
+kind of a servant to look after them; and when I'm away, if I let
+them run about these stairs and entries, or go into the streets, they
+do get a little exercise and air to be sure, such as it is; on which
+account I do let them out sometimes; but then a deal of mischief comes
+of that, too--they learn all kinds of wickedness, and would grow up to
+be no better than pickpockets, if they were let often to consort with
+the little vagabonds they find in the streets. So what to do better
+for them I don't know."
+
+The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire,
+and wept bitterly. Mad. de Fleury was struck with compassion: but she
+did not satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort, or by the
+easy donation of some money--she resolved to do something more, and
+something better.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+  "Come often, then; for haply in my bow'r
+  Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may'st gain:
+  If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain."
+
+  BEATTIE.
+
+
+It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it may
+imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere instinct
+of pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils more
+pernicious to society than any which they partially remedy. "Warm
+Charity, the general friend," may become the general enemy, unless she
+consults her head as well as her heart. Whilst she pleases herself
+with the idea that she daily feeds hundreds of the poor, she is
+perhaps preparing want and famine for thousands. Whilst she delights
+herself with the anticipation of gratitude for her bounties, she is
+often exciting only unreasonable expectations, inducing habits of
+dependence, and submission to slavery.
+
+Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom they
+may receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and numbers can
+afford.
+
+Mad. de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition nor a
+large fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real service,
+without the constant exercise of her judgment. She had therefore
+listened with deference to the conversation of well-informed men upon
+those subjects on which ladies have not always the means or the wish
+to acquire extensive and accurate knowledge. Though a Parisian belle,
+she had read with attention some of those books which are generally
+thought too dry or too deep for her sex. Consequently her benevolence
+was neither wild in theory, nor precipitate nor ostentatious in
+practice.
+
+Touched with compassion for a little girl, whose arm had been
+accidentally broken, and shocked by the discovery of the confinement
+and the dangers to which numbers of children in Paris were doomed,
+she did not make a parade of her sensibility. She did not talk of her
+feelings in fine sentences to a circle of opulent admirers, nor did
+she project for the relief of the little sufferers some magnificent
+establishment, which she could not execute or superintend. She was
+contented with attempting only what she had reasonable hopes of
+accomplishing.
+
+The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than
+the gift of money to the poor; as it ensures the means both of
+future subsistence and happiness. But the application even of
+this incontrovertible principle requires caution and judgment. To
+crowd numbers of children into a place called a school, to abandon
+them to the management of any person called a schoolmaster or a
+schoolmistress, is not sufficient to secure the blessings of a good
+education. Mad. de Fleury was sensible that the greatest care is
+necessary in the choice of the person to whom young children are to
+be intrusted: she knew that only a certain number can be properly
+directed by one superintendent; and that by attempting to do too much,
+she might do nothing, or worse than nothing. Her school was formed,
+therefore, on a small scale, which she could enlarge to any extent,
+if it should be found to succeed. From some of the families of poor
+people, who in earning their bread are obliged to spend most of the
+day from home, she selected twelve little girls, of whom Victoire was
+the eldest, and she was between six and seven.
+
+The person under whose care Mad. de Fleury wished to place these
+children was a nun of the _Soeurs de la Charité_, with whose
+simplicity of character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper, she was
+thoroughly acquainted. Sister Frances was delighted with the plan. Any
+scheme that promised to be of service to her fellow-creatures was sure
+of meeting with her approbation; but this suited her taste peculiarly,
+because she was extremely fond of children. No young person had ever
+boarded six months at her convent without becoming attached to good
+Sister Frances.
+
+The period of which we are writing was some years before convents were
+abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many instances
+been considerably relaxed. Without much difficulty, permission was
+obtained from the abbess for our nun to devote her time during the day
+to the care of these poor children, upon condition that she should
+regularly return to her convent every night before evening prayers.
+The house which Mad. de Fleury chose for her little school was in an
+airy part of the town; it did not face the street, but was separated
+from other buildings at the back of a court, retired from noise and
+bustle. The two rooms intended for the occupation of the children
+were neat and clean, but perfectly simple, with whitewashed walls,
+furnished only with wooden stools and benches, and plain deal tables.
+The kitchen was well lighted (for light is essential to cleanliness),
+and it was provided with utensils; and for these appropriate places
+were allotted, to give the habit and the taste of order. The
+school-room opened into a garden larger than is usually seen in towns.
+The nun, who had been accustomed to purchase provisions for her
+convent, undertook to prepare daily for the children breakfast and
+dinner; they were to sup and sleep at their respective homes. Their
+parents were to take them to Sister Frances every morning, when they
+went out to work, and to call for them upon their return home every
+evening. By this arrangement, the natural ties of affection and
+intimacy between the children and their parents would not be loosened;
+they would be separate only at the time when their absence must be
+inevitable. Mad. de Fleury thought that any education which estranges
+children entirely from their parents must be fundamentally erroneous;
+that such a separation must tend to destroy that sense of filial
+affection and duty, and those principles of domestic subordination, on
+which so many of the interests, and much of the virtue and happiness,
+of society depend. The parents of these poor children were eager to
+trust them to her care, and they strenuously endeavoured to promote
+what they perceived to be entirely to their advantage. They promised
+to take their daughters to school punctually every morning--a promise
+which was likely to be kept, as a good breakfast was to be ready at a
+certain hour, and not to wait for any body. The parents looked forward
+with pleasure also to the idea of calling for their little girls at
+the end of their day's labour, and of taking them home to their family
+supper. During the intermediate hours, the children were constantly
+to be employed, or in exercise. It was difficult to provide suitable
+employments for their early age; but even the youngest of those
+admitted could be taught to wind balls of cotton, thread, and silk,
+for haberdashers; or they could shell peas and beans, &c. for a
+neighbouring _traiteur_; or they could weed in a garden. The next
+in age could learn knitting and plain-work, reading, writing, and
+arithmetic. As the girls should grow up, they were to be made useful
+in the care of the house. Sister Frances said she could teach them
+to wash and iron, and that she would make them as skilful in cookery
+as she was herself. This last was doubtless a rash promise; for in
+most of the mysteries of the culinary art, especially in the medical
+branches of it, in making savoury messes palatable to the sick, few
+could hope to equal the neat-handed Sister Frances. She had a variety
+of other accomplishments; but her humility and good sense forbade
+her, upon the present occasion, to mention these. She said nothing of
+embroidery, or of painting, or of cutting out paper, or of carving in
+ivory, though in all these she excelled: her cuttings-out in paper
+were exquisite as the finest lace; her embroidered housewives, and
+her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts, and her curiously wrought
+ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest reputation in the
+convent, amongst the best judges in the world. Those only who have
+philosophically studied and thoroughly understand the nature of fame
+and vanity can justly appreciate the self-denial, or magnanimity, of
+Sister Frances, in forbearing to enumerate or boast of these things.
+She alluded to them but once, and in the slightest and most humble
+manner.
+
+"These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching them
+any thing but plain-work at present; but if hereafter any of them
+should show a superior genius, we can cultivate it properly! Heaven
+has been pleased to endow me with the means--at least our convent says
+so."
+
+The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her words;
+for though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new dwelling with
+those specimens of her skill, which had long been the glory of her
+apartment in the convent, yet she resisted the impulse, and contented
+herself with hanging over the chimney-piece of her school-room a
+Madonna of her own painting.
+
+The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new
+habitation. When the children entered the room for the first time,
+they paid the Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration.
+Involuntarily the little crowd stopped short at the sight of
+the picture. Some dormant emotions of human vanity were now
+awakened--played for a moment about the heart of Sister Frances--and
+may be forgiven. Her vanity was innocent and transient, her
+benevolence permanent and useful. Repressing the vain-glory of an
+artist, as she fixed her eyes upon the Madonna, her thoughts rose to
+higher objects, and she seized this happy moment to impress upon the
+minds of her young pupils their first religious ideas and feelings.
+There was such unaffected piety in her manner, such goodness in her
+countenance, such persuasion in her voice, and simplicity in her
+words, that the impression she made was at once serious, pleasing,
+and not to be effaced. Much depends upon the moment and the manner in
+which the first notions of religion are communicated to children: if
+these ideas be connected with terror, and produced when the mind is
+sullen or in a state of dejection, the future religious feelings are
+sometimes of a gloomy, dispiriting sort; but if the first impression
+be made when the heart is expanded by hope or touched by affection,
+these emotions are happily and permanently associated with religion.
+This should be particularly attended to by those who undertake the
+instruction of the children of the poor, who must lead a life of
+labour, and can seldom have leisure or inclination when arrived at
+years of discretion, to re-examine the principles early infused into
+their minds. They cannot in their riper age conquer by reason those
+superstitious terrors, or bigoted prejudices, which render their
+victims miserable or perhaps criminal. To attempt to rectify any
+errors in the foundation after an edifice has been constructed, is
+dangerous: the foundation, therefore, should be laid with care. The
+religious opinions of Sister Frances were strictly united with just
+rules of morality, strongly enforcing, as the essential means of
+obtaining present and future happiness, the practice of the social
+virtues; so that no good or wise persons, however they might differ
+from her in modes of faith, could doubt the beneficial influence of
+her general principles, or disapprove of the manner in which they were
+inculcated.
+
+Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun
+devoted all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had
+undertaken the charge. She watched over them with unceasing vigilance,
+whilst diffidence of her own abilities was happily supported by her
+high opinion of Mad. de Fleury's judgment. This lady constantly
+visited her pupils every week; not in the hasty, negligent manner in
+which fine ladies sometimes visit charitable institutions, imagining
+that the honour of their presence is to work miracles, and that every
+thing will go on rightly when they have said, "_Let it be so_," or,
+"_I must have it so_." Mad. de Fleury's visits were not of this
+dictatorial or cursory nature. Not minutes, but hours, she devoted
+to these children--she who could charm by the grace of her manners,
+and delight by the elegance of her conversation, the most polished
+circles[1] and the best-informed societies of Paris, preferred to the
+glory of being admired the pleasure of being useful--
+
+  "Her life, as lovely as her face,
+  Each duty mark'd with every grace;
+  Her native sense improved by reading,
+  Her native sweetness by good-breeding."
+
+[Footnote 1: It was of this lady that Marmontel said--"She has the art
+of making the most common thoughts appear new, and the most uncommon
+simple, by the elegance and clearness of her expressions."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+  "Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
+  But if that pride it be, which thus inspires,
+  Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
+  Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."
+
+  SHENSTONE.
+
+
+By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute _reports_
+of Sister Frances, Mad. de Fleury soon became acquainted with the
+habits and temper of each individual in this little society. The most
+intelligent and the most amiable of these children was Victoire.
+Whence her superiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally
+more vivacious than those of her companions, or whether they had been
+more early developed by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to
+determine, lest we should involve ourselves in the intricate question
+respecting natural genius--a metaphysical point, which we shall
+not in this place stop to discuss. Till the world has an accurate
+philosophical dictionary (a work not to be expected in less than half
+a dozen centuries), this question will never be decided to general
+satisfaction. In the mean time, we may proceed with our story.
+
+Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness
+that Mad. de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and
+her gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic _fondness_
+of childhood. Whenever she spoke or heard of Mad. de Fleury, her
+countenance became interested, and animated, in a degree that would
+have astonished a cool English spectator. Every morning her first
+question to Sister Frances was--"Will _she_ come to-day?"--If Mad.
+de Fleury was expected, the hours and the minutes were counted, and
+the sand in the hourglass that stood on the school-room table was
+frequently shaken. The moment she appeared, Victoire ran to her, and
+was silent; satisfied with standing close beside her, holding her gown
+when unperceived, and watching, as she spoke and moved, every turn
+of her countenance. Delighted by these marks of sensibility, Sister
+Frances would have praised the child, but was warned by Mad. de Fleury
+to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lest she should teach her
+affectation.
+
+"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her," said
+Sister Frances.
+
+Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two
+months the poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not
+venture to play with her companions. At their hours of recreation, she
+used to sit on the school-room steps, looking down into the garden at
+the scene of merriment, in which she could not partake.
+
+For those who know how to find it, there is good in every thing.
+Sister Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her
+work, and sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite
+idle, listened with eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances
+read, or watched with interest the progress of her work: soon she
+longed to imitate what she saw done with so much pleasure, and begged
+to be taught to work and read. By degrees she learned her alphabet;
+and could soon, to the amazement of her schoolfellows, read the names
+of all the animals in Sister Frances' _picture-book_. No matter how
+trifling the thing done, or the knowledge acquired, a great point is
+gained by giving the desire for employment. Children frequently become
+industrious from impatience of the pains and penalties of idleness.
+Count Rumford showed that he understood childish nature perfectly
+well, when, in his House of Industry at Munich, he compelled the young
+children to sit for some time idle in a gallery round the hall, where
+others a little older than themselves were busied at work. During
+Victoire's state of idle convalescence, she acquired the desire to be
+employed, and she consequently soon became more industrious than her
+neighbours. Succeeding in her first efforts, she was praised--was
+pleased, and persevered till she became an example of activity to her
+companions. But Victoire, though now nearly seven years old, was not
+quite perfect. Naturally, or accidentally, she was very passionate,
+and not a little self-willed.
+
+One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the
+banister of the flight of stairs leading from the school-room to the
+garden, she called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring
+them to stand out of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom. At
+this moment Sister Frances came to the school-room door, and forbade
+the feat: but Victoire, regardless of all prohibition, slid down
+instantly, and moreover was going to repeat the glorious operation,
+when Sister Frances, catching hold of her arm, pointed to a heap
+of sharp stones that lay on the ground upon the other side of the
+banisters.
+
+"I am not afraid," said Victoire.
+
+"But if you fall there, you may break your arm again."
+
+"And if I do I can bear it," said Victoire. "Let me go, pray let me
+go: I must do it."
+
+"No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again!--Babet, and all
+the little ones, would follow your example, and perhaps break their
+necks."
+
+The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount:
+but she was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon
+compulsion. Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her
+might; she kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked; but at last
+her feet were taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one
+hand, with the other she brandished high the little whip.
+
+"What!" said the mild nun, "would you strike me with that _arm_?"
+
+The arm dropped instantly--Victoire recollected Mad. de Fleury's
+kindness the day when the arm was broken: dismounting immediately,
+she threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young
+spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances. For the rest of the
+day she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of
+her contrition were visible during the remainder of the week.
+
+Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience
+by touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse
+to this expedient in all perilous cases: but one day, when she was
+boasting of the infallible operation of her charm, Mad. de Fleury
+advised her to forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should
+wear out the sensibility she so much loved. In consequence of this
+counsel, Victoire's violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force,
+and sometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling
+of gratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle. The hope
+of reward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than the
+fear of punishment; and Mad. de Fleury devised rewards with as much
+ability as some legislators invent punishments.
+
+Victoire's brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own
+bread, had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who
+worked in the house where his mother lodged. This most ardent wish
+of his soul he had imparted to his sister: and she consulted her
+benefactress, whom she considered as all-powerful in this, as in every
+other affair.
+
+"Your brother's wish shall be gratified," replied Mad. de Fleury, "if
+you can keep your temper one month. If you are never in a passion
+for a whole month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound
+apprentice to his friend the smith. To your companions, to Sister
+Frances, and above all to yourself, I trust, to make me a just report
+this day month."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+  "You she preferr'd to all the gay resorts,
+  Where female vanity might wish to shine,
+  The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts."
+
+  LYTTELTON.
+
+
+At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
+herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
+deserved her reward. Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire's temper
+never relapsed into its former bad habits--so powerful is the effect
+of a well-chosen motive!--Perhaps the historian may be blamed for
+dwelling on such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to
+the conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened
+without disdain to these simple annals. Nothing appeared to her a
+trifle that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty,
+order, and industry;--habits which are to be early induced, not by
+solemn precepts, but by practical lessons. A few more examples of
+these shall be recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
+
+One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was
+coming to school, an old woman, sitting at a corner of the street,
+beside a large black brazier full of roasted chestnuts. Babet thought
+that the chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old woman was
+talking earnestly to some people, who were on her other side; Babet
+filled her work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and
+sister, who, having turned the corner of the street, had not seen what
+passed. When Babet came to the school-room, she opened her bag with
+triumph, displayed her treasure, and offered to divide it with her
+companions. "Here, Victoire," said she, "here is the largest chestnut
+for you."
+
+But Victoire would not take it; for she said that Babet had no
+money, and that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts.
+She spoke so forcibly upon this point, that even those who had the
+tempting morsel actually at their lips, forbore to bite; those who had
+bitten laid down their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands
+full of chestnuts, rolled them, back again towards the bag, Babet
+cried with vexation.
+
+"I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won't eat
+them!--And I must not eat them!" said she: then curbing her passion,
+she added, "But at any rate, I won't be a thief. I am sure I did not
+think it was being a thief just to, take a few chestnuts from an old
+woman, who had such heaps and heaps: but Victoire says it is wrong,
+and I would not be a thief for all the chestnuts in the world--I'll
+throw them all into the fire this minute!"
+
+"No; give them back again to the old woman," said Victoire.
+
+"But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them," said Babet;
+"or who knows but she might whip me?"
+
+"And if she did, could not you bear it?" said Victoire: "I am sure I
+would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief."
+
+"Twenty whippings! that's a great many," said Babet; "and I am so
+little, consider--and that woman has such a monstrous arm!--Now, if it
+was Sister Frances, it would be another thing. But come! if you will
+go with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave."
+
+"We will all go with you," said Victoire.
+
+"Yes, all!" said the children; "and Sister Frances, I dare say, would
+go, if you asked her."
+
+Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the
+little penitent to make restitution. The chestnut woman did not whip
+Babet, nor even scold her; but said she was sure, that since the child
+was so honest as to return what she had taken, she would never steal
+again. This was the most _glorious_ day of Babet's life, and the
+happiest. When the circumstance was told to Mad. de Fleury, she gave
+the little girl a bag of the best chestnuts the old woman could
+select, and Babet with great delight shared her reward with her
+companions.
+
+"But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted. Oh, if we could but roast
+them!" said the children.
+
+Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table, on which the
+chestnuts were spread, a small earthenware furnace--a delightful toy,
+commonly used by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.
+
+"This can be bought for sixpence," said she: "and if each of you
+twelve earn one halfpenny a-piece to-day, you can purchase it
+to-night, and I will put a little fire into it, and you will then he
+able to roast your chestnuts."
+
+The children ran eagerly to their work--some to wind worsted for a
+woman who paid them a _liard_ for each ball, others to shell peas
+for a neighbouring _traiteur_--all rejoicing that they were able to
+earn _something_. The elder girls, under the directions and with the
+assistance of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and ironing,
+half a dozen little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse. At the end
+of the day, when the sum of the produce of their labours was added
+together, they were surprised to find, that, instead of one, they
+could purchase two furnaces. They received and enjoyed the reward of
+their united industry. The success of their first efforts was fixed
+in their memory: for they were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and
+they were all (Sister Frances inclusive) unanimous in opinion that
+no chestnuts ever were so good, or so well roasted. Sister Frances
+always partook in their little innocent amusements; and it was her
+great delight to be the dispenser of rewards, which at once conferred
+present pleasure, and cherished future virtue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+  "To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
+  And bid the tear of emulation start."--ROGERS.
+
+
+Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of the
+amiable nun, became every day more dear to her. Far from having the
+selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public notice
+the good actions of her companions. "Stoop down your ear to me, Sister
+Frances," said she, "and I will tell you a secret--I will tell you why
+my friend Annette is growing so thin--I found it out this morning--she
+does not eat above half her soup everyday. Look, there's her porringer
+covered up in the corner--she carries it home to her mother, who is
+sick, and who has not bread to eat."
+
+Mad. de Fleury came in, whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down to
+hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered
+that a certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day
+to carry to her mother during her illness.
+
+"I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am sure
+it will never be forgotten. Here is an order for you upon my baker:
+run and show it to Annette. This is a pleasure you deserve; I am glad
+that you have chosen for your friend a girl who is so good a daughter.
+Good daughters make good friends."
+
+By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love
+and confidence of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest
+superiority. In their turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits;
+and, as Sister Frances and Mad. de Fleury administered justice with
+invariable impartiality, the hateful passions of envy and jealousy
+were never excited in this little society. No servile sycophant, no
+malicious detractor, could rob or defraud their little virtues of
+their due reward.
+
+"Whom shall I trust to take this to Mad. de Fleury?" said Sister
+Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were playing a
+pot of fine jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.--"These
+are the first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never
+beheld! Whom shall I trust to take them to Mad. de Fleury this
+evening?--It must be some one who will not stop to stare about on the
+way, but who will be very, very careful--some one in whom I can place
+perfect dependence."
+
+"It must be Victoire, then," cried every voice.
+
+"Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly," said Annette, eagerly;
+"because she was not angry with Babet, when she did what was enough to
+put any body in a passion. Sister Frances, you know this cherry-tree
+which you grafted for Victoire last year, and that was yesterday so
+full of blossoms--now you see, there is not a blossom left!--Babet
+plucked them all this morning to make a nosegay."
+
+"But she did not know," said Victoire, "that pulling off the blossoms
+would prevent my having any cherries."
+
+"Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish," said Babet; "Victoire did not
+even say a cross word to me."
+
+"Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries," pursued
+Annette, "because she intended to have given the first she had to Mad.
+de Fleury."
+
+"Victoire, take the jonquils--it is but just," said Sister Frances.
+"How I do love to hear them all praise her!--I knew what she would be
+from the first."
+
+With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry them
+with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way. She set out
+to Mad. de Fleury's hotel, which was in _La Place de Louis Quinze_.
+It was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting, and as Victoire
+crossed the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to look at the reflection
+of the lamps in the water, which appeared in succession, as they were
+lighted, spreading as if by magic along the river. While Victoire
+leaned over the battlements of the bridge, watching the rising of
+these stars of fire, a sudden push from the elbow of some rude
+passenger precipitated her pot of jonquils into the Seine. The sound
+it made in the water was thunder to the ear of Victoire; she stood
+for an instant vainly hoping it would rise again, but the waters had
+closed over it for ever.
+
+  "Dans cet êtat affreux, que faire?
+  Mon devoir."
+
+Victoire courageously proceeded to Mad. de Fleury's, and desired to
+see her.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible--madame is dressing to go to a concert;"
+said François. "Cannot you leave your message?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Victoire; "it is of great consequence--I must see _her_
+myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur François, that I am
+sure you will not refuse."
+
+"Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which I
+dropped at your school-room door--one good turn deserves another.
+If it is possible, it shall be done--I will inquire of madame's
+woman."--"Follow me up stairs," said he, returning in a few minutes;
+"madame will see you."
+
+She followed him Up the large staircase, and through a suite of
+apartments sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.
+
+"Madame est dans son cabinet. Entrez--mais entrez done, entrez
+toujours."
+
+Mad. de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image was
+reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment
+Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the
+lady she wanted.
+
+"Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?"
+
+"Oh, it is her voice!--I know you now, madame, and I am not
+afraid--not afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been. Sister
+Frances trusted me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of
+jonquils, and she desired me not to stop on the way to stare; but
+I did stop to look at the lamps on the bridge, and I forgot the
+jonquils, and somebody brushed by me, and threw them into the
+river--and I am very sorry I was so foolish."
+
+"And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth, without
+attempting to make any paltry excuses. Go home to Sister Frances, and
+assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you such an honest
+girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils."
+
+Victoire's heart was so full that she could not speak--she kissed
+Mad. de Fleury's hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in
+contemplation of her bracelet.
+
+"Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier, if you
+had such bracelets as these?--Believe me, you are mistaken if you
+think so; many people are unhappy, who wear fine bracelets; so, my
+child, content yourself."
+
+"Myself! Oh, madam, I was not thinking of myself--I was not wishing
+for bracelets, I was only thinking that--"
+
+"That what?"
+
+"That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have every thing in this
+world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to _you_--all
+my life I shall never be able to do _you_ any good--and what,"
+said Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, "what signifies the
+gratitude of such a poor little creature as I am?"
+
+"Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?"
+
+"No, madam--never!"
+
+"Then I will tell it to you."
+
+Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation--François opened
+the door to announce that the Marquis de M---- and the Comte de S----
+were in the saloon; but Mad. de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire her
+fable--she would not lose the opportunity of making an impression upon
+this child's heart.
+
+It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be
+made. Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and the
+fate of a child. In this respect what advantages have the rich and
+great in educating the children of the poor! they have the power which
+their rank, and all its decorations, obtain over the imagination.
+Their smiles are favours; their words are listened to as oracular;
+they are looked up to as beings of a superior order. Their powers of
+working good are almost as great, though not quite so wonderful, as
+those formerly attributed to beneficent fairies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+  "Knowledge for them unlocks her _useful_ page,
+  And virtue blossoms for a better age."--BARBAULD.
+
+
+A few days after Mad. de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of the
+lion and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire
+had put the fable into verse. It was wonderfully well done for a child
+of nine years old, and Mad. de Fleury was tempted to praise the lines;
+but, checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered whether
+it would be advantageous to cultivate her pupil's talent for poetry.
+Excellence in the poetic art cannot be obtained without a degree of
+application for which a girl in her situation could not have leisure.
+To encourage her to become a mere rhyming scribbler, without any
+chance of obtaining celebrity or securing subsistence, would be folly
+and cruelty. Early prodigies, in the lower ranks of life, are seldom
+permanently successful; they are cried up one day, and cried down the
+next. Their productions rarely have that superiority which secures
+a fair preference in the great literary market. Their performances
+are, perhaps, said to be--_wonderful, all things considered_,
+&c. Charitable allowances are made; the books are purchased by
+associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons; a kind of
+forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and delusive.
+In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection, nothing but
+what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when it must be
+purchased. But granting that positive excellence is attained, there
+is always danger that for works of fancy the taste of the public may
+suddenly vary; there is a fashion in these things; and when the mode
+changes, the mere literary manufacturer is thrown out of employment;
+he is unable to turn his hand to another trade, or to any but his own
+peculiar branch of the business. The powers of the mind are often
+partially cultivated in these self-taught geniuses. We often see that
+one part of their understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the
+rest--the imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment:
+so that, whilst they have acquired talents for show, they have none
+for use. In the affairs of common life, they are utterly ignorant and
+imbecile--or worse than imbecile. Early called into public notice,
+probably before their moral habits are formed, they are extolled for
+some play of fancy or of wit, as Bacon calls it, some _juggler's trick
+of the intellect_; they immediately take an aversion to plodding
+labour, they feel raised above their situation; _possessed_ by the
+notion that genius exempts them, not only from labour, but from vulgar
+rules of prudence, they soon disgrace themselves by their conduct,
+are deserted by their patrons, and sink into despair, or plunge into
+profligacy.[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: To these observations there are honourable exceptions.]
+
+Convinced of these melancholy truths, Mad. de Fleury was determined
+not to add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons,
+who sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness
+of their favourites. Victoire's verses were not handed about in
+fashionable circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before a
+brilliant audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she
+was educated in private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good,
+useful, and happy member of society. Upon the same principles which
+decided Mad. de Fleury against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess,
+she refrained from giving any of her little pupils accomplishments
+unsuited to their situation. Some had a fine ear for music, others
+showed powers of dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor
+music--talents which in their station were more likely to be dangerous
+than serviceable. They were not intended for actresses or opera-girls,
+but for shop-girls, mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of
+different sorts; consequently they were instructed in things which
+would be most necessary and useful to young women in their rank of
+life. Before they were ten years old, they could do all kinds of plain
+needlework, they could read and write well, and they were mistresses
+of the common rules of arithmetic. After this age, they were practised
+by a writing-master in drawing out bills neatly, keeping accounts, and
+applying to every-day use their knowledge of arithmetic. Some were
+taught by a laundress to wash, and _get up_ fine linen and lace;
+others were instructed by a neighbouring _traiteur_ in those culinary
+mysteries with which Sister Frances was unacquainted. In sweetmeats
+and confectionaries she yielded to no one; and she made her pupils
+as expert as herself. Those who were intended for ladies' maids were
+taught mantua-making, and had lessons from Mad. de Fleury's own woman
+in hair-dressing.
+
+Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
+shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Mad. de Fleury
+had means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably and
+advantageously: of this both they and their parents were aware, so
+that there was a constant and great motive operating continually to
+induce them to exert themselves, and to behave well. This reasonable
+hope of reaping the fruits of their education, and of being
+immediately rewarded for their good conduct; this perception of the
+connexion between what they are taught and what they are to become,
+is necessary to make young people assiduous: for want of attending to
+these principles, many splendid establishments have failed to produce
+pupils answerable to the expectations which had been formed of them.
+
+During seven years that Mad. de Fleury persevered uniformly on the
+same plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of the
+name of Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike her in
+character.
+
+When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a
+rich lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow
+for her children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon
+excelled in these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a
+prodigy of talent. The lady of the house gave herself great credit for
+having discerned, and having _brought forward_, such talents. Manon's
+moral character was in the mean time neglected. In this house, where
+there was a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had
+frequent opportunities and temptations to be dishonest. For some time
+she was not detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness,
+and servile compliance with the humours of the children of the family
+secured their good-will. Encouraged by daily petty successes in
+the art of deceit, she became a complete hypocrite. With culpable
+negligence, her mistress trusted implicitly to appearances; and
+without examining whether she were really honest, she suffered her to
+have free access to unlocked drawers and valuable cabinets. Several
+articles of dress were missed from time to time; but Manon managed
+so artfully, that she averted from herself all suspicion. Emboldened
+by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted depredations of more
+importance. She purloined a valuable, snuff-box--was detected in
+disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker's, and was
+immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement
+expressions of remorse, she so far worked upon the weakness of the
+lady of the house, as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance
+that occasioned her dismissal. Some months afterwards Manon,
+pleading that she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady
+a recommendation to Mad. de Fleury's school. It is wonderful that
+people, who in other respects profess and practise integrity, can
+be so culpably weak as to give good characters to those who do not
+deserve them: this is really one of the worst species of forgery.
+Imposed upon by this treacherous recommendation, Mad. de Fleury
+received into the midst of her innocent young pupils one who might
+have corrupted their minds secretly and irrecoverably. Fortunately a
+discovery was made in time of Manon's real disposition. A mere trifle
+led to the detection of her habits of falsehood. As she could not do
+any kind of needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was
+negligent, and did not in the course of the week wind the same number
+of balls as her companions; and to conceal this, she pretended that
+she had delivered the proper number to the woman, who regularly called
+at the end of the week for the cotton. The woman persisted in her
+account; the children in theirs; and Manon would not retract her
+assertion. The poor woman gave up the point; but she declared that she
+would the next time send her brother to make up the account, because
+he was _sharper_ than herself, and would not be imposed upon so
+easily. The ensuing week the brother came, and he proved to be the
+very pawnbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he knew
+her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him, and
+to persuade him that she was not the same person. The man was clear
+and firm. Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard.
+Struck with horror, the children shrunk back from Manon, and stood
+in silence. Mad. de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had
+recommended this girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker's
+assertions. The lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not
+deny the facts, and could apologize for herself only by saying, that
+"she believed the girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped,
+under Mad. de Fleury's judicious care, she would become an amiable and
+respectable woman."
+
+Mad. de Fleury, however, wisely judged, that the hazard of corrupting
+all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of
+correcting one, whose had habits were of such long standing. Manon was
+expelled from this happy little community--even Sister Frances, the
+most mild of human beings, could never think of the danger to which
+they had been exposed without expressing indignation against the lady
+who recommended such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and
+beloved pupils.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+  "Alas! regardless of their doom,
+  The little victims play:
+  No sense have they of ills to come,
+  No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.
+
+
+Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the
+genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age, the
+taste for whatever is called _une fête_ pervades the whole French
+nation. Mad. de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful
+motive, and connected it with the feelings of affection more than with
+the passion for show. For instance, when any of her little people had
+done any thing particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to
+invite their parents to a _fête_ prepared for them by their children,
+assisted by the kindness of Sister Frances.
+
+One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all the
+children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.
+Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy
+fathers and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in
+their turn heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance
+of their daughter's improvement. Full of hope for the future, and of
+gratitude for the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst
+in imagination they saw their children all prosperously and usefully
+settled in the world. They blessed Mad. de Fleury in her absence, and
+they wished ardently for her presence.
+
+"The sun is setting, and Mad. de Fleury is not yet come," cried
+Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the
+matter?"
+
+"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she
+has forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."
+
+"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she loves
+so much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be
+something very extraordinary that detains her."
+
+Babet laughed at Victoire's fears: but presently even she began to
+grow impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every
+moment that Mad. de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared, but
+with a dejected countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's
+foreboding. When she saw this festive company, each child sitting
+between her parents, and all at her entrance looking up with
+affectionate pleasure, a faint smile enlivened her countenance for a
+moment; but she did not speak to them with her usual ease. Her mind
+seemed pre-occupied by some disagreeable business of importance. It
+appeared that it had some connexion with them; for as she walked round
+the table with Sister Frances, she said with a voice and look of great
+tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they are at this moment!--Heaven
+only knows how soon they may be rendered, or may render themselves,
+miserable!"
+
+None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
+guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs.
+About this time some of those discontents had broken out, which
+preceded the terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the
+common people, who were honestly employed in earning their own living,
+neither understood what was going on, nor foresaw what was to happen.
+Many of their superiors were not in such happy ignorance--they
+had information of the intrigues that were forming; and the more
+penetration they possessed, the more they feared the consequences of
+events which they could not control. At the house of a great man, with
+whom she had dined this day, Mad. de Fleury had heard alarming news.
+Dreadful public disturbances, she saw, were inevitable; and whilst she
+trembled for the fate of all who were dear to her, these poor children
+had a share in her anxiety. She foresaw the temptations, the dangers,
+to which they must be exposed, whether they abandoned, or whether they
+abided by, the principles their education had instilled. She feared
+that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in an instant, or that
+her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their virtues.
+
+Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to
+govern themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use
+those preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with
+politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere,
+the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be
+exerted with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the
+public, in conciliating the inferior classes of society, explaining to
+them their duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds
+of the children of the poor, sentiments of just subordination and
+honest independence. How happy would it have been for France, if
+women of fortune and abilities had always exerted their talents and
+activity in this manner, instead of wasting their powers in futile
+declamations, or in the intrigues of party!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+  "E'en now the devastation is begun,
+  And half the business of destruction done."
+
+  GOLDSMITH.
+
+
+Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils. When the public
+disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible
+actions they saw. Instead of being seduced by bad example, they
+only showed anxiety to avoid companions of their own age, who were
+dishonest, idle, or profligate. Victoire's cousin Manon ridiculed
+these _absurd_ principles, as she called them; and endeavoured to
+persuade Victoire that she would be much happier if she _followed the
+fashion_.
+
+"What! Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still going
+to school with your little sister, though you are but a year younger
+than I am, I believe!--thirteen last birthday, were not you?--Mon
+Dieu! Why, how long do you intend to be a child? and why don't you
+leave that old nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?--I assure you,
+nuns, and schoolmistresses, and schools, and all that sort of thing,
+are out of fashion now--we have abolished all that--we are to live a
+life of reason now--and all soon to be equal, I can tell you; let your
+Mad. de Fleury look to that, and look to it yourself; for with all
+your wisdom, you might find yourself in the wrong box by sticking to
+her, and that side of the question.--Disengage yourself from her, I
+advise you, as soon as you can.--My dear Victoire! believe me, you may
+spell very well--but you know nothing of the rights of man, or the
+rights of woman."
+
+"I do not pretend to know any thing of the rights of men, or the
+rights of women," cried Victoire; "but this I know, that I never can
+or will be ungrateful to Mad. de Fleury. Disengage myself from her! I
+am bound to her for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I
+breathe."
+
+"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion--I only speak as
+a friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go
+home, and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."
+
+"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"
+
+"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a
+_good citizen_. I and a party of us _denounced_ a milliner and a
+confectioner in our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and
+of their goods forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share,
+such delicious _marangles_, and charming ribands!--Oh, Victoire,
+believe me, you will never get such things by going to school, or
+saying your prayers either. You may look with as much scorn and
+indignation as you please, but I advise you to let it alone, for all
+that is out of fashion, and may moreover bring you into difficulties.
+Believe me, my dear Victoire, your head is not deep enough to
+understand these things--you know nothing of politics."
+
+"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics
+can never alter that, you know."
+
+"Never alter that!--there you are quite mistaken," said Manon: "I
+cannot stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you, that I know
+secrets that you don't suspect."
+
+"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire,
+proudly.
+
+"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you
+expect," exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's
+contempt, that she could not refrain from boasting of her political
+knowledge. "I can tell you, that your fine friends will in a few days
+not be able to protect you. The Abbé Tracassier is in love with a dear
+friend of mine, and I know all the secrets of state from her--and I
+know what I know. Be as incredulous, as you please, but you will
+see that, before this week is at end, Monsieur de Fleury will be
+guillotined, and then what will become of you? Good morning, my proud
+cousin."
+
+Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe
+that Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately
+and communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Mad. de
+Fleury. It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which alarmed
+this lady for the safety of her husband. A man of his abilities,
+integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to escape
+persecution. He was inclined to brave the danger; but his lady
+represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and folly, to
+sacrifice his life to the villany of others, without probability or
+possibility of serving his country by his fall.
+
+M. de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of
+Victoire's intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very next
+day _placards_ were put up in every street, offering a price for the
+head of Citoyen Fleury, _suspected of incivisme_.
+
+Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these _placards_,
+the children read them as they returned in the evening from school;
+and little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a
+lamplighter's ladder, and tore down one of the papers. This imprudent
+action did not pass unobserved: it was seen by one of the spies of
+Citoyen Tracassier, a man who, under the pretence of zeal _pour la
+chose publique_, gratified without scruple his private resentments
+and his malevolent passions. In his former character of an abbé, and
+a man of wit, he had gained admittance into Mad. de Fleury's society.
+There he attempted to dictate both as a literary and religious despot.
+Accidentally discovering that Mad. de Fleury had a little school for
+poor children, he thought proper to be offended, because he had not
+been consulted respecting the regulations, and because he was not
+permitted, as he said, to take the charge of this little flock. He
+made many objections to Sister Frances, as being an improper person
+to have the spiritual guidance of these young people: but as he
+was unable to give any just reason for his dislike, Mad. de Fleury
+persisted in her choice, and was at last obliged to assert, in
+opposition to the domineering abbé, her right to judge and decide
+in her own affairs. With seeming politeness, he begged ten thousand
+pardons for his conscientious interference. No more was said upon the
+subject; and as he did not totally withdraw from her society till the
+revolution broke out, she did not suspect that she had any thing to
+fear from his resentment. His manners and opinions changed suddenly
+with the times; the mask of religion was thrown off; and now, instead
+of objecting to Sister Frances as not being sufficiently strict and
+orthodox in her tenets, he boldly declared, that a nun was not a
+fit person to be intrusted with the education of any of the young
+citizens--they should all be _des élèves de la patrie_. The abbé,
+become a member of the Committee of Public Safety, denounced Mad. de
+Fleury, in the strange jargon of the day, as "_the fosterer of a swarm
+of bad citizens, who were nourished in the anticivic prejudices_ de
+l'ancien régime, _and fostered in the most detestable superstitions,
+in defiance of the law_." He further observed, that he had good reason
+to believe that some of these little _enemies to the constitution_ had
+contrived and abetted M. de Fleury's escape. Of their having rejoiced
+at it in a most indecent manner, he said he could produce irrefragable
+proof. The boy who saw Babet tear down the _placard_ was produced and
+solemnly examined; and the thoughtless action of this poor little girl
+was construed into a state crime of the most horrible nature. In a
+declamatory tone, Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens, that in the
+ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of which France
+ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned to
+death for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that
+had fallen from a public statue. The orator, for the reward of his
+eloquence, obtained an order to seize every thing in Mad. de Fleury's
+school-house, and to throw the nun into prison.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+  "Who now will guard bewilder'd youth
+  Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage?--
+  Such war can Virtue wage?"
+
+
+At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution,
+Mad. de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening to
+Babet, who was reading Æsop's fable of _The old man and his sons_.
+Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire collected a number of twigs
+from the garden: she had just tied them together; and was going,
+by Sister Frances' desire, to let her companions try if they could
+break the bundle, when the attention of the moral of the fable was
+interrupted by the entrance of an old woman, whose countenance
+expressed the utmost terror and haste, to tell what she had not breath
+to utter. To Mad. de Fleury she was a stranger; but the children
+immediately recollected her to be the _chestnut woman_, to whom Babet
+had some years ago restored certain purloined chestnuts. "Fly!" said
+she, the moment she had breath to speak: "Fly!--they are coming to
+seize every thing here--carry off what you can--make haste--make
+haste!--I came through a by-street. A man was eating chestnuts at my
+stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the order from Citoyen
+Tracassier. They'll be here in five minutes--quick!--quick!--You, in
+particular," continued she, turning to the nun, "else you'll be in
+prison." At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister
+Frances, loosed their hold, exclaiming, "Go! go quick: but where?
+where?--we will go with her." "No, no!" said Madame de Fleury, "she
+shall come home with me--my carriage is at the door." "Ma belle dame!"
+cried the chestnut woman, "your house is the worst place she can go
+to--let her come to my cellar--the poorest cellar in these days is
+safer than the grandest palace." So saying, she seized the nun with
+honest roughness, and hurried her away. As soon as she was gone, the
+children ran different ways, each to collect some favourite thing,
+which they thought they could not leave behind. Victoire alone stood
+motionless beside Mad. de Fleury; her whole thoughts absorbed by the
+fear that her benefactress would be imprisoned. "Oh, madame! dear,
+dear Madame de Fleury, don't stay! don't stay!"
+
+"Oh, children, never mind these things."
+
+"Don't stay, madame, don't stay! I will stay with them--I will
+stay--do you go."
+
+The children hearing these words, and recollecting Mad. de Fleury's
+danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed
+her orders to go home to their parents. Victoire at last saw Mad. de
+Fleury safe in her carriage. The coachman drove off at a great rate;
+and a few minutes afterwards Tracassier's myrmidons arrived at the
+school-house. Great was their surprise, when they found only the
+poor children's little books, unfinished samplers, and half-hemmed
+handkerchiefs. They ran into the garden to search for the nun. They
+were men of brutal habits; yet as they looked at every thing round
+them, which bespoke peace, innocence, and childish happiness, they
+could not help thinking it was a pity to destroy what _could do the
+nation no great harm after all_. They were even glad that the nun
+had made her escape, since they were not answerable for it; and they
+returned to their employer, satisfied for once without doing any
+mischief: but Citizen Tracassier was of too vindictive a temper to
+suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance. The next
+day Mad. de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal, and ordered to
+give up the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree of the
+law had been obtained.
+
+Mad. de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman: the gentle
+firmness of this lady's answers to a brutal interrogatory was termed
+insolence; she was pronounced a refractory aristocrat, dangerous to
+the state; and an order was made out to seal up her goods, and to keep
+her a prisoner in her own house.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+  "Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car
+  The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,
+  While the fair captive, mark'd with many a scar,
+  In lone obscurity, oppress'd, forlorn,
+  Resigns to tears her angel form."--BEATTIE.
+
+
+A close prisoner in her own house, Mad. de Fleury was now guarded by
+men suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the people;
+men of brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more ferocious
+minds. They seemed to delight in the insolent, display of their
+newly-acquired power. One of these men had formerly been convicted of
+some horrible crime, and had been sent to the galleys by M. de Fleury.
+Revenge actuated this wretch under the mask of patriotism, and he
+rejoiced in seeing the wife of the man he hated a prisoner in his
+custody. Ignorant of the facts, his associates were ready to believe
+him in the right, and to join in the senseless cry against all
+who were their superiors in fortune, birth, and education. This
+unfortunate lady was forbidden all intercourse with her friends, and
+it was in vain she attempted to obtain from her jailers intelligence
+of what was passing in Paris.
+
+"Tu verras--Tout va bien--Ca ira," were the only answers they deigned
+to make: frequently they continued smoking their pipes in obdurate
+silence. She occupied the back rooms of her house, because her guards
+apprehended that she might from the front windows receive intelligence
+from her friends. One morning she was awakened by an unusual noise in
+the streets; and upon her inquiring the occasion of it, her guards
+told her she was welcome to go to the front windows, and satisfy her
+curiosity. She went, and saw an immense crowd of people surrounding a
+guillotine, that had been erected the preceding night. Mad. de Fleury
+started back with horror--her guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and
+asked whether her curiosity was satisfied. She would have left the
+room; but it was now their pleasure to detain her, and to force her to
+continue the whole day in this apartment. When the guillotine began
+its work, they had even the barbarity to drag her to the window,
+repeating, "It is there you ought to be!--It is there your husband
+ought to be!--You are too happy, that your husband is not there this
+moment. But he will be there--the law will overtake him--he will be
+there in time--and you too!"
+
+The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no
+impression upon these cruel men. When at night they saw her kneeling
+at her prayers, they taunted her with gross and impious mockery; and
+when she sunk to sleep, they would waken her by their loud and drunken
+orgies: if she remonstrated, they answered, "The enemies of the
+constitution should have no rest."
+
+Mad. de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic
+pleasures, or employed for the good of her fellow-creatures. Even
+in this hour of personal danger she thought of others more than of
+herself: she thought of her husband, an exile in a foreign country,
+who might be reduced to the utmost distress, now that she was deprived
+of all means of remitting him money. She thought of her friends, who,
+she knew, would exert themselves to obtain her liberty, and whose
+zeal in her cause might involve them and their families in distress.
+She thought of the good Sister Frances, who had been exposed by her
+means to the unrelenting persecution of the malignant and powerful
+Tracassier. She thought of her poor little pupils, now thrown upon the
+world without a protector. Whilst these ideas were revolving in her
+mind, one night, as she lay awake, she heard the door of her chamber
+open softly, and a soldier, one of her guards, with a light in his
+hand, entered: he came to the foot of her bed; and, as she started up,
+laid his finger upon his lips.
+
+"Don't make the least noise," said he in a whisper; "those without are
+drunk, and asleep. Don't you know me?--Don't you remember my face?"
+
+"Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice."
+
+The man took off the bonnet-rouge--still she could not guess who he
+was.--"You never saw me in an uniform before, nor without a black
+face."
+
+She looked again, and recollected the smith, to whom Maurice was bound
+apprentice, and remembered his _patois_ accent.
+
+"I remember you," said he, "at any rate; and your goodness to that
+poor girl the day her arm was broken, and all your goodness to
+Maurice--But I've no time for talking of that now--get up, wrap this
+great coat round you--don't be in a hurry, but make no noise, and
+follow me."
+
+She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels, opened
+a back door into the garden, hurried her, almost carried her, across
+the garden, to a door at the furthest end of it, which opened into
+Les Champs Elysées--"La voilà!" cried he, pushing her through the
+half-opened door. "God be praised!" answered a voice, which Mad. de
+Fleury knew to be Victoire's, whose arms were thrown round her with a
+transport of joy.
+
+"Softly; she is not safe yet--wait till we get her home, Victoire,"
+said another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice. He produced
+a dark lantern, and guided Mad. de Fleury across the Champs Elysées,
+and across the bridge, and then through various by-streets, in perfect
+silence, till they arrived safely at the house where Victoire's mother
+lodged, and went up those very stairs which she had ascended in such
+different circumstances several years before. The mother, who was
+sitting up waiting most anxiously for the return of her children,
+clasped her hands in an ecstasy, when she saw them return with Mad. de
+Fleury.
+
+"Welcome, madame! Welcome, dear madame! but who would have thought of
+seeing you here, in such a way? Let her rest herself--let her rest;
+she is quite overcome. Here, madame, can you sleep on this poor bed?"
+
+"The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken," said
+Victoire.
+
+"Ay, Lord bless her!" said the mother; "and though it's seven good
+years ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw her sitting on that bed,
+beside my poor child, looking like an angel. But let her rest, let her
+rest--we'll not say a word more, only God bless her; thank Heaven,
+she's safe with us at last!"
+
+Mad. de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good people,
+lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most earnestly
+that she would remain with them without scruple.
+
+"Surely, madame," said the mother, "you must think that we have some
+remembrance of all you have done for us, and some touch of gratitude."
+
+"And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope," said Maurice.
+
+"And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for you. The
+lion was not too proud to be served by the poor little mouse," said
+Victoire. "As to danger for us," continued she, "there can be none;
+for Maurice and I have contrived a hiding-place for you, madame,
+that can never be found out--let them come spying here as often as
+they please, they will never find her out, will they, Maurice? Look,
+madame, into this lumber-room--you see it seems to be quite full of
+wood for firing; well, if you creep in behind, you can hide yourself
+quite snug in the loft above, and here's a trap-door into the loft
+that nobody ever would think of--for we have hung these old things
+from the top of it, and who could guess it was a trap-door? So, you
+see, dear madame, you may sleep in peace here, and never fear for us."
+
+Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the
+sense and prudence of a woman of thirty. Gratitude seemed at once to
+develope all the powers of her mind. It was she and Maurice who had
+prevailed upon the smith to effect Mad. de Fleury's escape from her
+own house. She had invented, she had foreseen, she had arranged every
+thing; she had scarcely rested night or day since the imprisonment of
+her benefactress; and now that her exertions had fully succeeded, her
+joy seemed to raise her above all feeling of fatigue; she looked as
+fresh and moved as briskly, her mother said, as if she were preparing
+to go to a ball.
+
+"Ah! my child," said she, "your cousin Manon, who goes to those balls
+every night, was never so happy as you are this minute."
+
+But Victoire's happiness was not of long continuance; for the next day
+they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged beyond
+measure at Mad. de Fleury's escape, that all his emissaries were at
+work to discover her present hiding-place, that the houses of all the
+parents and relations of her pupils were to be searched, and that the
+most severe denunciations were issued against all by whom she should
+be harboured. Manon was the person who gave this intelligence, but not
+with any benevolent design; she first came to Victoire, to display
+her own consequence; and to terrify her, she related all she knew
+from a soldier's wife, who was M. Tracassier's mistress. Victoire
+had sufficient command over herself to conceal from the inquisitive
+eyes of Manon the agitation of her heart; she had also the prudence
+not to let any one of her companions into her secret, though, when
+she saw their anxiety, she was much tempted to relieve them, by the
+assurance that Mad. de Fleury was in safety. All the day was passed
+in apprehension. Mad. de Fleury never stirred from her place of
+concealment: as the evening and the hour of the domiciliary visits
+approached, Victoire and Maurice were alarmed by an unforeseen
+difficulty. Their mother, whose health had been broken by hard work,
+in vain endeavoured to suppress her terror at the thoughts of this
+domiciliary visit; she repeated incessantly that she knew they should
+all be discovered, and that her children would be dragged to the
+guillotine before her face. She was in such a distracted state, that
+they dreaded she would, the moment she saw the soldiers, reveal all
+she knew.
+
+"If they question me, I shall not know what to answer," cried the
+terrified woman. "What can I say?--What can I do?"
+
+Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition to
+understand, or even to listen to, any thing that was said. In this
+situation they were, when the domiciliary visitors arrived--they heard
+the noise of the soldiers' feet on the stairs--the poor woman sprang
+from the arms of her children; but at the moment the door was opened,
+and she saw the glittering of the bayonets, she fell at full length
+in a swoon on the floor--fortunately before she had power to utter a
+syllable. The people of the house knew, and said, that she was subject
+to fits on any sudden alarm; so that her being affected in this manner
+did not appear surprising. They threw her on a bed, whilst they
+proceeded to search the house: her children stayed with her; and,
+wholly occupied in attending to her, they were not exposed to the
+danger of betraying their anxiety about Mad. de Fleury. They trembled,
+however, from head to foot, when they heard one of the soldiers swear
+that all the wood in the lumber-room must be pulled out, and that he
+would not leave the house till every stick was moved; the sound of
+each log, as it was thrown out, was heard by Victoire: her brother
+was now summoned to assist. How great was his terror, when one of the
+searchers looked up to the roof, as if expecting to find a trap-door!
+fortunately, however, he did not discover it. Maurice, who had seized
+the light, contrived to throw the shadows so as to deceive the eye.
+The soldiers at length retreated; and with inexpressible satisfaction
+Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw them fairly out of the
+house. For some minutes after they were in safety, the terrified
+mother, who had recovered her senses, could scarcely believe that
+the danger was over. She embraced her children by turns with wild
+transport; and with tears begged Mad. de Fleury to forgive her
+cowardice, and not to attribute it to ingratitude, or to suspect
+that she had a bad heart. She protested that she was now become so
+courageous, since she found that she had gone through this trial
+successfully, and since she was sure that the hiding-place was really
+so secure, that she should never be alarmed at any domiciliary visit
+in future. Mad. de Fleury, however, did not think it either just or
+expedient to put her resolution to the trial. She determined to leave
+Paris; and, if possible, to make her escape from France. The master of
+one of the Paris diligences was brother to François, her footman: he
+was ready to assist her at all hazards, and to convey her safely to
+Bourdeaux, if she could disguise herself properly; and if she could
+obtain a pass from any friend under a feigned name.
+
+Victoire--the indefatigable Victoire--recollected that her friend
+Annette had an aunt, who was nearly of Mad. de Fleury's size, and who
+had just obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit some of her
+relations. The pass was willingly given up to Mad. de Fleury; and upon
+reading it over it was found to answer tolerably well--the colour of
+the eyes and hair at least would do; though the words _un nez gros_
+were not precisely descriptive of this lady's. Annette's mother, who
+had always worn the provincial dress of Auvergne, furnished the high
+_cornette_, stiff stays, boddice, &c.; and equipped in these, Mad. de
+Fleury was so admirably well disguised, that even Victoire declared
+she should scarcely have known her. Money, that most necessary
+passport in all countries, was still wanting: as seals had been
+put upon all Mad. de Fleury's effects the day she had been first
+imprisoned in her own house, she could not save even her jewels. She
+had, however, one ring on her finger of some value. How to dispose
+of it without exciting suspicion was the difficulty. Babet, who was
+resolved to have her share in assisting her benefactress, proposed
+to carry the ring to a _colporteur_--a pedlar, or sort of travelling
+jeweller, who had come to lay in a stock of hardware at Paris: he was
+related to one of Mad. de Fleury's little pupils, and readily disposed
+of the ring for her: she obtained at least two-thirds of its value--a
+great deal in those times.
+
+The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude, which she received
+in these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in her
+prosperity, touched her generous heart so much, that she has often
+since declared she could not regret having been reduced to distress.
+Before she quitted Paris, she wrote letters to her friends,
+recommending her pupils to their protection; she left these letters in
+the care of Victoire, who to the last moment followed her with anxious
+affection. She would have followed her benefactress into exile, but
+that she was prevented by duty and affection from leaving her mother,
+who was in declining health.
+
+Mad. de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris. Some of the
+municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her
+road were as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinizing
+her passport. It seldom happened that more than one of these petty
+committees of public safety could read. One usually spelled out the
+passport as well as he could, whilst the others smoked their pipes,
+and from time to time held a light up to the lady's face to examine
+whether it agreed with the description.
+
+"Mais toi! tu n'as pas le nez gros!" said one of her judges to her.
+"Son nez est assez gros, et c'est moi qui le dit," said another. The
+question was put to the vote; and the man who had asserted what was
+contrary to the evidence of his senses was so vehement in supporting
+his opinion, that it was carried in spite of all that could be said
+against it. Mad. de Fleury was suffered to proceed on her journey.
+She reached Bourdeaux in safety. Her husband's friends--the good have
+always friends in adversity--her husband's friends exerted themselves
+for her with the most prudent zeal. She was soon provided with a sum
+of money sufficient for her support for some time in England; and she
+safely reached that free and happy country, which has been the refuge
+of so many illustrious exiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+  "Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende
+  Dalla rupe natìa quand' esce fuora,
+  E a poco a poco lucido se rende
+  Sotto l'attenta che lo lavora."
+
+
+Mad. de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London; and they both
+lived in the most retired and frugal manner. They had too much of the
+pride of independence to become burthensome to their generous English
+friends. Notwithstanding the variety of difficulties they had to
+encounter, and the number of daily privations to which they were
+forced to submit, yet they were happy--in a tranquil conscience, in
+their mutual affection, and the attachment of many poor but grateful
+friends. A few months after she came to England, Mad. de Fleury
+received, by a private hand, a packet of letters from her little
+pupils. Each of them, even the youngest, who had but just begun to
+learn joining-hand, would write a few lines in this packet.
+
+In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon these
+simple words:
+
+    "MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,
+
+    "I love you--I wish you were here again--I will be _very very_
+    good whilst you are away. If you stay away ever so long, I shall
+    never forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you will soon be
+    able to come back, and this is what I pray for every night. Sister
+    Frances says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire
+    thinks so too."
+
+This was the substance of several of their little letters. Victoire's
+contained rather more information:--
+
+
+    "You will be glad to _learn_ that dear Sister Frances is safe, and
+    that the good chestnut woman, in whose cellar she took refuge, did
+    not get into any difficulty. After you were gone, M. T---- said
+    that he did not think it worth while to pursue her, as it was only
+    you he wanted to humble. Manon, who has, I do not know how, means
+    of knowing, told me this. Sister Frances is now with her abbess,
+    who, as well as every body else that knows her, is very fond of
+    her. What was a convent is no longer a convent: the nuns are
+    turned out of it. Sister Frances' health is not so good as it used
+    to be, though she never complains; I am sure she suffers much; she
+    has never been the same person since that day when we were driven
+    from our happy school-room. It is all destroyed--the garden and
+    every thing. It is now a dismal sight. Your absence also afflicts
+    Sister Frances much, and she is in great anxiety about all of
+    us. She has the six little ones with her every day, in her own
+    apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used to do. We six
+    eldest go to see her as often as we can. I should have begun, my
+    dear Mad. de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after you left
+    Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very kind to
+    write for us in the midst of your hurry. Your friends have been
+    exceedingly good to us, and have got places for us all. Rose is
+    with Mad. la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy
+    and more expert at cutting out than girls she has had these three
+    years. Marianne is in the service of Mad. de V----, who has lost
+    a great part of her large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her
+    former waiting-maid. Mad. de V---- is well pleased with Marianne,
+    and bids me tell you that she thanks you for her. Indeed,
+    Marianne, though she is only fourteen, can do every thing her lady
+    wants. Susanne is with a confectioner; she gave Sister Frances
+    a box of _bonbons_ of her own making this morning; and Sister
+    Frances, who is a judge, says they are excellent; she only wishes
+    you could taste them. Annette and I (thanks to your kindness!) are
+    in the same service, with Mad. Feuillot, the _brodeuse_, to whom
+    you recommended us: she is not discontented with our work, and
+    indeed sent a very civil message yesterday to Sister Frances on
+    this subject; but I believe it is too flattering for me to repeat
+    in this letter. We shall do our best to give her satisfaction. She
+    is glad to find that we can write tolerably, and that we can make
+    out bills and keep accounts; this being particularly convenient
+    to her at present, as the young man she had in the shop is become
+    an _orator_, and good for nothing but _la chose publique_: her
+    son, who could have supplied his place, is ill; and Mad. Feuillot
+    herself, not having had, as she says, the advantage of such a good
+    education as we have been blessed with, writes but badly, and
+    knows nothing of arithmetic. Dear Mad. de Fleury, how much, how
+    very much we are obliged to you! We feel it every day more and
+    more: in these times what would have become of us, if we could
+    do nothing useful? Who _would_, who _could_ be burdened with us?
+    Dear madame, we owe every thing to you--and we can do nothing, not
+    the least thing, for you!--My mother is still in bad health, and
+    I fear will never recover: Babet is with her always, and Sister
+    Frances is very good to her. My brother Maurice is now so good a
+    workman that he earns a louis a week. He is very steady to his
+    business, and never goes to the revolutionary meetings, though
+    once he had a great mind to be an orator of the people, but never
+    since the day that you explained to him that he knew nothing about
+    equality and the rights of men, &c. How could I forget to tell
+    you, that his master the smith, who was one of your guards, and
+    who assisted you to escape, has returned without suspicion to his
+    former trade? and he declares that he will never more meddle with
+    public affairs. I gave him the money you left with me for him. He
+    is very kind to my brother--yesterday Maurice mended for Annette's
+    mistress the lock of an English writing-desk, and he mended it so
+    astonishingly well, that an English gentleman, who saw it, could
+    not believe the work was done by a Frenchman; so my brother was
+    sent for, to prove it, and they were forced to believe it. To-day
+    he has more work than he can finish this twelvemonth--all this we
+    owe to you. I shall never forget the day when you promised that
+    you would grant my brother's wish to be apprenticed to the smith,
+    if I was not in a passion for a month--that cured me of being so
+    passionate.
+
+    "Dear Mad. de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter, and
+    not so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted
+    to tell you every thing at once, because, may be, I shall not for
+    a long time have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to
+    you.
+
+    "VICTOIRE."
+
+Several months elapsed before Mad. de Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire: it was short, and evidently written in great distress
+of mind. It contained an account of her mother's death. She was
+now left at the early age of sixteen an orphan. Mad. Feuillot, the
+_brodeuse_, with whom she lived, added a few lines to her letter,
+penned with difficulty and strangely spelled, but expressive of her
+being highly pleased with both the girls recommended to her by Mad. de
+Fleury, especially Victoire, who she said was such a treasure to her,
+that she would not part with her on any account, and should consider
+her as a daughter. "I tell her not to grieve so much; for though she
+has lost one mother, she has gained another for herself, who will
+always love her: and besides, she is so useful, and in so many ways,
+with her pen and her needle, in accounts, and every thing that is
+wanted in a family or a shop, she can never want employment or friends
+in the worst times; and none can be worse than these, especially for
+such pretty girls as she is, who have all their heads turned, and are
+taught to consider nothing a sin that used to be sins. Many gentlemen,
+who come to our shop, have found out that Victoire is very handsome,
+and tell her so; but she is so modest and prudent, that I am not
+afraid for her. I could tell you, madame, a good anecdote on this
+subject, but my paper will not allow, and besides, my writing is so
+difficult."
+
+Above a year elapsed before Mad. de Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire: this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant took charge:
+it contained a variety of little offerings from her pupils, instances
+of their ingenuity, their industry, and their affection: the last
+thing in the packet was a small purse labelled in this manner--
+
+"_Savings from our wages and earnings, for her who taught us all we
+know_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+  "Dans sa pompe élégante, admirez Chantilly,
+  De héros en héros, d'âge en âge, embelli."
+
+  DE LILLE.
+
+
+The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from
+the shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution,
+declined so rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that
+she was obliged to leave Paris, and she retired to a little village
+in the neighbourhood of Chantilly. She chose this situation, because
+here she was within a morning's walk of Mad. de Fleury's country-seat.
+The Château de Fleury had not yet been seized as national property,
+nor had it suffered from the attacks of the mob, though it was in
+a perilous situation, within view of the high road to Paris. The
+Parisian populace had not yet extended their outrages to this distance
+from the city; and the poor people who lived on the estate of Fleury,
+attached from habit, principle, and gratitude to their lord, were not
+disposed to take advantage of the disorder of the times, to injure the
+property of those from whom they had all their lives received favours
+and protection. A faithful old steward had the care of the castle and
+the grounds. Sister Frances was impatient to talk to him, and to visit
+the château, which she had never seen; but for some days after her
+arrival in the village, she was so much fatigued and so weak, that she
+could not attempt so long a walk. Victoire had obtained permission
+from her mistress to accompany the nun for a few days to the country,
+as Annette undertook to do all the business of the shop during the
+absence of her companion. Victoire was fully as eager as Sister
+Frances to see the faithful steward and the Château de Fleury, and the
+morning was now fixed for their walk: but in the middle of the night
+they were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who had just entered the
+village fresh from the destruction of a neighbouring castle. The nun
+and Victoire listened; but in the midst of the horrid yells of joy, no
+human voice, no intelligible word, could be distinguished: they looked
+through a chink in the window-shutter, and they saw the street
+below filled with a crowd of men, whose countenances were by turns
+illuminated by the glare of the torches which they brandished.
+
+"Good Heavens!" whispered the nun to Victoire: "I should know the face
+of that man who is loading his musket--the very man whom I nursed ten
+years ago, when he was ill with a jail fever!"
+
+This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head than
+the others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were disputing
+whether they should proceed further, spend the remainder of the night
+in the village alehouse, or return to Paris. Their leader ordered
+spirits to be distributed to his associates, and exhorted them in a
+loud voice to proceed in their glorious work. Tossing his firebrand
+over his head, he declared that he would never return to Paris till
+he had razed to the ground the Château de Fleury. At these words,
+Victoire, forgetful of all personal danger, ran out into the midst of
+the mob, pressed her way up to the leader of these ruffians, caught
+him by the arm, exclaiming, "You will not touch a stone in the Château
+de Fleury--I have my reasons--I say you will not suffer a stone in the
+Château de Fleury to be touched."
+
+"And why not?" cried the man, turning astonished; "and who are you,
+that I should listen to you?"
+
+"No matter who I am," said Victoire; "follow me, and I will show
+you one to whom you will not refuse to listen. Here!--here she is,"
+continued Victoire, pointing to the nun, who had followed her in
+amazement; "here is one to whom you will listen--yes, look at her
+well: hold the light to her face."
+
+The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless expectation.
+
+"Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy," cried
+Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man; "you
+will save the Château de Fleury, for her sake--who saved your life."
+
+"I will," cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired with sudden
+generosity. "By my faith you are a brave girl, and a fine girl, and
+know how to speak to the heart, and in the right moment. Friends,
+citizens! this nun, though she is a nun, is good for something. When
+I lay ill with a fever, and not a soul else to help me, she came and
+gave me medicines and food--in short, I owe my life to her. 'Tis ten
+years ago, but I remember it well; and now it is our turn to rule,
+and she shall be paid as she deserves. Not a stone of the Château de
+Fleury shall be touched!"
+
+With loud acclamations, the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm of
+the moment, and followed their leader peaceably out of the village.
+All this passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the impression
+of reality upon the mind. As soon as the sun rose in the morning,
+Victoire looked out for the turrets of the Château de Fleury, and
+she saw that they were safe--safe in the midst of the surrounding
+devastation. Nothing remained of the superb palace of Chantilly but
+the white arches of its foundation!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+  "When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest,
+  Thy meek submission to thy God express'd;
+  When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
+  A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
+  What to thy soul its glad assurance gave--
+  Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave?
+  The sweet remembrance of unblemish'd youth,
+  Th'inspiring voice of innocence and truth!"
+
+  ROGERS.
+
+
+The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the
+shock of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Château de
+Fleury. The gates were opened for them by the old steward and his son
+Basile, who welcomed them with all the eagerness with which people
+welcome friends in time of adversity. The old man showed them the
+place; and through every apartment of the castle went on, talking of
+former times, and with narrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear
+master and mistress. Here his lady used to sit and read--here was
+the table at which she wrote--this was the sofa on which she and
+the ladies sat the very last day she was at the castle, at the open
+windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and people of the village
+were dancing on the green.
+
+"Ay, those were happy times," said the old man; "but they will never
+return."
+
+"Never! Oh, do not say so," cried Victoire.
+
+"Never during my life, at least," said the nun in a low voice, and
+with a look of resignation.
+
+Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his
+arm against the chord of Mad. de Fleury's harp, and the sound echoed
+through the room.
+
+"Before this year is at an end," cried Victoire, "perhaps that harp
+will be struck again in this château by Mad. de Fleury herself. Last
+night we could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing this
+morning, and yet it is safe--not a stone touched! Oh, we shall all
+live, I hope, to see better times!"
+
+Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire's
+enthusiastic hope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt
+better this morning than she had felt for months, and Victoire was
+happier than she had been since Mad. de Fleury left France. But, alas!
+it was only a transient gleam. Sister Frances relapsed, and declined
+so rapidly, that even Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed
+to hope, despaired of her recovery. With placid resignation, or rather
+with mild confidence, this innocent and benevolent creature met the
+approach of death. She seemed attached to earth only by affection for
+those whom she was to leave in this world. Two of the youngest of the
+children which had formerly been placed under her care, and who were
+not yet able to earn their own subsistence, she kept with her, and in
+the last days of her life she continued her instructions to them with
+the fond solicitude of a parent. Her father confessor, an excellent
+man, who never even in these dangerous times shrunk from his duty,
+came to attend Sister Frances in her last moments, and relieved her
+mind from all anxiety, by promising to place the two little children
+with the lady who had been abbess of her convent, who would to the
+utmost of her power protect and provide for them suitably. Satisfied
+by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon Victoire, who
+stood beside her bed, and with that smile upon her countenance
+expired.--It was some time before the little children seemed to
+comprehend, or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they had
+never before seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die,
+and their first feeling was astonishment: they did not seem to
+understand why Victoire wept. But the next day when no Sister Frances
+spoke to them, when every hour they missed some accustomed kindness
+from her,--when presently they saw the preparations for her
+funeral,--when they heard that she was to be buried in the earth, and
+that they should never see her more,--they could neither play nor eat,
+but sat in a corner holding each other's hands, and watching every
+thing that was done for the dead by Victoire.
+
+In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would
+not have been permitted by the populace. It was therefore performed
+as secretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was
+carried to the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his
+son Basile, Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only
+persons present. It is necessary to mention this, because the facts
+were afterwards misrepresented.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+  "The character is lost!
+  Her head adorn'd with lappets, pinn'd aloft,
+  And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
+  Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand
+  For more than half the tresses it sustains."
+
+  COWPER.
+
+
+Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
+employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best
+remedies for sorrow.
+
+One day, as she was busy settling Mad. Feuillot's accounts, a servant
+came into the shop, and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he
+presented her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher.
+It was signed by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her
+hotel. "_Her hotel_!" repeated Victoire with astonishment. The servant
+assured her that one of the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his
+lady, and that he was commissioned to show her the way to it. Victoire
+found her cousin in a magnificent house, which had formerly belonged
+to the Prince de Salms. Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent
+extreme of the mode, was seated under a richly-fringed canopy. She
+burst into a loud laugh as Victoire entered.
+
+"You look just as much astonished as I expected," cried she. "Great
+changes have happened since I saw you last--I always told you,
+Victoire, I knew the world better than you did. What has come of
+all your schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude
+truly?--Your patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge in
+the shop of a _brodeuse_, who makes you work your fingers to the bone,
+no doubt.--Now you shall see the difference. Let me show you my house;
+you know it was formerly the hotel of the Prince de Salms, he that was
+guillotined the other day; but you know nothing, for you have been
+out of Paris this month, I understand. Then I must tell you, that my
+friend Villeneuf has acquired an immense fortune! by assignats, made
+in the course of a fortnight--I say an immense fortune! and has bought
+this fine house--Now do you begin to understand?"
+
+"I do not clearly know whom you mean by your friend Villeneuf," said
+Victoire.
+
+"The hairdresser, who lived in our street," said Manon; "he became a
+great patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence and
+his luck in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and mine."
+
+"And yours! then he is your husband!"
+
+"That does not follow--that is not necessary--but do not look so
+shocked--every body goes on the same way now; besides, I had no
+other resource--I must have starved--I could not earn my bread as
+you do. Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort--and
+besides--but come, let me show you my house--you have no idea how
+fine it is."
+
+With anxious ostentation, Manon displayed all her riches, to excite
+Victoire's envy.
+
+"Confess, Victoire," said she at last, "that you think me the happiest
+person you have ever known.--You do not answer; whom did you ever know
+that was happier?"
+
+"Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier,"
+said Victoire.
+
+"The poor nun!" said Manon, disdainfully. "Well, and whom do you think
+the next happiest?"
+
+"Madame de Fleury."
+
+"An exile and a beggar!--Oh, you are jesting now,
+Victoire--or--envious. With that sanctified face, citoyenne--perhaps
+I should say Mademoiselle Victoire, you would be delighted to change
+places with me this instant. Come, you shall stay with me a week, to
+try how you like it."
+
+"Excuse me," said Victoire, firmly; "I cannot stay with you,
+Manon--you have chosen one way of life, and I another--quite another.
+I do not repent my choice--may you never repent yours!--Farewell!"
+
+"Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks! Repent of my
+choice!--a likely thing, truly. Am not I at the top of the wheel?"
+
+"And may not the wheel turn?" said Victoire.
+
+"Perhaps it may," said Manon; "but till it does I will enjoy myself.
+Since you are of a different humour, return to Mad. Feuillot, and
+_figure_ upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills, and nurse old
+nuns, all the days of your life. You will never persuade me, however,
+that you would not change places with me if you could. Stay till you
+are tried, Mademoiselle Victoire. Who was ever in love with you, or
+your virtues?--Stay till you are tried."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+  "But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,
+  Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
+  Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye
+  To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit."
+
+  MILTON.
+
+
+The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected. Manon had
+scarcely pronounced the last words, when the ci-devant hairdresser
+burst into the room, accompanied by several of his political
+associates, who met to consult measures for the good of the nation.
+Among these patriots was the Abbé Tracassier.
+
+"Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?" whispered he; "a
+friend of yours, I hope?"
+
+Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate
+abbé had seen enough to make him wish to see more. The next day he
+went to Mad. Feuillot's, under pretence of buying some embroidered
+handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant
+compliments, which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and
+which appeared ridiculous to her plain good sense. She did not know
+who he was, nor did Mad. Feuillot; for though she had often heard
+of the abbé, yet she had never seen him. Several succeeding days he
+returned, and addressed himself to Victoire, each time with increasing
+freedom. Mad. Feuillot, who had the greatest confidence in her,
+left her entirely to her own discretion. Victoire begged her friend
+Annette to do the business of the shop, and stayed at work in the back
+parlour. Tracassier was much disappointed by her absence; but as he
+thought no great ceremony necessary in his proceedings, he made his
+name known in a haughty manner to Mad. de Feuillot, and desired that
+he might be admitted into the back parlour, as he had something of
+consequence to say to Mlle. Victoire in private. Our readers will
+not require to have a detailed account of this tête-à-tête; it is
+sufficient to say, that the disappointed and exasperated abbé left
+the house muttering imprecations. The next morning a note came to
+Victoire, apparently from Manon: it was directed by her, but the
+inside was written by an unknown hand, and contained these words:--
+
+    "You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl--since you do not
+    like compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery.
+    It is in the power of the person who dictates this, not only to
+    make you as rich and great as your cousin Manon, but also to
+    restore to fortune and to their country the friends for whom you
+    are most interested. Their fate as well as your own is in your
+    power: if you send a favourable answer to this note, the persons
+    alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the list of emigrants,
+    and reinstated in their former possessions. If your answer is
+    decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France will
+    be thenceforward impracticable, and their château, as well as
+    their house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold
+    without delay to the highest bidder. To you, who have as much
+    understanding as beauty, it is unnecessary to say more. Consult
+    your heart, charming Victoire! be happy, and make others happy.
+    This moment is decisive of your fate and of theirs, for you have
+    to answer a man of a most decided character."
+
+Victoire's answer was as follows:--
+
+    "My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or
+    consent to return to their country, upon the conditions proposed;
+    therefore I have no merit in rejecting them."
+
+Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain, steady,
+good sense, which goes straight to its object, without being
+dazzled or imposed upon by sophistry. She was unacquainted with the
+refinements of sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from wrong,
+and had sufficient resolution to abide by the right. Perhaps many
+romantic heroines might have thought it a generous self-devotion to
+have become in similar circumstances the mistress of Tracassier;
+and those who are skilled "to make the worst appear the better
+cause" might have made such an act of heroism the foundation of an
+interesting, or at least a fashionable novel. Poor Victoire had not
+received an education sufficiently refined to enable her to understand
+these mysteries of sentiment. She was even simple enough to flatter
+herself that this libertine patriot would not fulfil his threats,
+and that these had been made only with a view to terrify her into
+compliance. In this opinion, however, she found herself mistaken. M.
+Tracassier was indeed a man of the most decided character, if this
+term may properly be applied to those who act uniformly in consequence
+of their ruling passion. The Château de Fleury was seized as national
+property. Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward, who was
+turned out of the castle, along with his son, the very day after her
+rejection of the proposed conditions.
+
+"I could not have believed that any human creature could be so
+wicked!" exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but indignation
+gave way to sorrow.
+
+"And the Château de Fleury is really seized?--and you, good old
+man, are turned out of the place where you were born?--and you too,
+Basile?--and Mad. de Fleury will never come back again!--and perhaps
+she may be put into prison in a foreign country, and may die for
+want--and I might have prevented all this!"
+
+Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation,
+whilst Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole
+transaction. Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so
+transported with indignation, that he would have gone instantly with
+the note from Tracassier to _denounce_ him before the whole National
+Convention, if he had not been restrained by his more prudent father.
+The old steward represented to him, that as the note was neither
+signed nor written by the hand of Tracassier, no proof could be
+brought home to him, and the attempt to convict one of so powerful a
+party would only bring certain destruction upon the accusers. Besides,
+such was at this time the general depravity of manners, that numbers
+would keep the guilty in countenance. There was no crime which the
+mask of patriotism could not cover.
+
+"There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men can
+never have," said the old man; "when their downfall comes, and come it
+will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT. Victoire,
+look up! and do not give way to despair--all will yet be well."
+
+"At all events, you have done what is right--so do not reproach
+yourself," said Basile. "Every body--I mean every body who is good for
+any thing--must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+  "Ne mal cio che v'annoja,
+  Quello e vero gioire
+  Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."
+
+
+Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
+which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her
+conduct towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment;
+but he forbore to declare his affection, because he could not,
+consistently with prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of
+marrying, now that he was not able to maintain a wife and family. The
+honest earnings of many years of service had been wrested from the
+old steward at the time the Château de Fleury was seized, and he now
+depended on the industry of his son for the daily support of his age.
+His dependence was just, and not likely to be disappointed; for he had
+given his son an education suitable to his condition in life. Basile
+was an exact arithmetician, could write an excellent hand, and was a
+ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring these useful talents into
+action, and to find employment for them, with men by whom they would
+be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty--a difficulty which
+Victoire's brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation as a smith had
+introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman of worth and
+scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make models and
+plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of a good
+clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure. Maurice
+mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character, and
+upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and
+was accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his
+father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter
+himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then
+he might declare his attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding all his
+boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his passion
+to have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted
+observer: but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly
+occupied with a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her
+benefactress, who was now, as she feared, in want. All Mad. de
+Fleury's former pupils contributed their share to the common stock;
+and the mantua-maker, the confectioner, the servants of different
+sorts, who had been educated at her school, had laid by, during the
+years of her banishment, an annual portion of their wages and savings:
+with the sum which Victoire now added to the fund, it amounted to
+ten thousand livres. The person who undertook to carry this money to
+Mad. de Fleury, was François, her former footman, who had procured a
+pass to go to England as a hairdresser. The night before he set out
+was a happy night for Victoire, as all her companions met, by Mad.
+Feuillot's invitation, at her house; and after tea they had the
+pleasure of packing up the little box, in which each, besides the
+money, sent some token of their gratitude, and some proof of their
+ingenuity. They would with all their hearts have sent twice as many
+_souvenirs_ as François could carry.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was
+prepared for him to carry to England: but his good-nature was unable
+to resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, "which
+would take up no room."
+
+He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Mad. de Fleury, who
+was in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond. He delivered
+the money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the
+person to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not
+so punctual, or was more unlucky; for the letter never reached her,
+and she and her companions were long uncertain whether their little
+treasure had been received. They still continued, however, with
+indefatigable gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for
+their benefactress; and the pleasure they had in this perseverance
+made them more than amends for the loss of some little amusements,
+and for privations to which they submitted in consequence of their
+resolution.
+
+In the mean time Basile, going on steadily with his employments,
+advanced every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was
+increased in proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he
+thought he could now, without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his
+father, who approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the
+probability of his being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both
+his father and his friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself
+to Victoire, when he was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune.
+His father was taken up, by an emissary of Tracassier's, and brought
+before one of their revolutionary committees, where he was accused of
+various acts of incivisme. Among other things equally criminal, it was
+proved that one Sunday, when he went to see Le Petit Trianon, then a
+public-house, he exclaimed, "C'est ici que la canaille danse, et que
+les honnêtes gens pleurent!"
+
+Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw him
+on the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given that
+he might save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the
+army out of France. Victoire was full in Basile's recollection--but
+there was no other means of saving his father. He enlisted, and in
+twenty-four hours left Paris.
+
+What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often
+prove ultimately the most advantageous. Indeed, those who have
+knowledge, activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks
+in the lottery of fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended to his
+commanding officer by the gentleman who had lately employed him as
+a clerk--his skill in drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of
+the country through which they passed, was extremely useful to his
+general; and his integrity made it safe to trust him as a secretary.
+His commanding officer, though a brave man, was illiterate, and a
+secretary was to him a necessary of life. Basile was not only useful,
+but agreeable; without any mean arts, or servile adulation, he
+pleased, by simply showing the desire to oblige, and the ability to
+serve.
+
+"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's plan
+of a town, which the army was besieging. "How comes it that you are
+able to do all these things? But you have a genius for this sort of
+work, apparently."
+
+"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me, when I was a
+child, by a good friend."
+
+"A good friend he was indeed! he did more for you than if he had
+given you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon
+taken from you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for
+yourself."
+
+This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is
+deserving of the serious consideration of those who have children
+of their own to educate, or who have the disposal of money for
+public charities. In these times, no sensible person will venture
+to pronounce that a change of fortune and station may not await
+the highest and the lowest; whether we rise or fall in the scale of
+society, personal qualities and knowledge will be valuable. Those who
+fall, cannot be destitute; and those who rise, cannot be ridiculous or
+contemptible, if they have been prepared for their fortune by proper
+education. In shipwreck, those who carry their all in their minds are
+the most secure.
+
+But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his general
+jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any
+officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
+understood.
+
+The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
+lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general,
+finding in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense,
+gradually acquired the habit of asking his opinion on every subject
+that came within his department. It happened that the general received
+orders from the Directory at Paris, to take a certain town, let
+it cost what it would, within a given time: in his perplexity, he
+exclaimed before Basile against the unreasonableness of these orders,
+and declared his belief that it was impossible he should succeed, and
+that this was only a scheme of his enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile
+had attended to the operations of the engineer who acted under the
+general, and perfectly recollected the model of the mines of this
+town, which he had seen when he was employed as draughtsman by his
+Parisian friend. He remembered, that there was formerly an old mine,
+that had been stopped up somewhere near the place where the engineer
+was at work; he mentioned _in private_ his suspicions to the general,
+who gave orders in consequence; the old mine was discovered, cleared
+out, and by these means the town was taken the day before the time
+appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the glory of this
+success--he kept his general's secret and his confidence. Upon their
+return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was more
+grateful than some others have been, perhaps because more room was
+given by Basile's prudence for the exercise of this virtue.
+
+"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service by
+your counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue. Speak now,
+and tell me freely, if there is any thing I can do for you. You
+see, as a victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these
+fellows--Tracassier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will at
+this moment he granted; speak freely, therefore."
+
+Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that M. and Mad. de
+Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their
+property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them.
+The general promised that this should be done. A warm contest
+ensued upon the subject between him and Tracassier; but the general
+stood firm; and Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and
+quarrelling irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his own,
+he and his adherents were driven from that station in which they had
+so long tyrannized. From being the rulers of France, they in a few
+hours became banished men, or, in the phrase of the times, _des
+déportés_.
+
+We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The man with
+whom she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid house
+she went upon the stage--did not succeed--sunk from one degree of
+profligacy to another; and at last died in an hospital.
+
+In the mean time, the order for the restoration of the Fleury
+property, and for permission for the Fleury family to return to
+France, was made out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the
+messenger of these good tidings:--he set out for England with the
+order.
+
+Victoire immediately went down to the Château de Fleury, to get every
+thing in readiness for the reception of the family.
+
+Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country.
+Victoire had but just time to complete her preparations, when M. and
+Mad. de Fleury arrived at Calais. Victoire had assembled all her
+companions, all Mad. de Fleury's former pupils; and the hour when she
+was expected home, they with the peasants of the neighbourhood were
+all in their holiday clothes, and according to the custom of the
+country singing and dancing. Without music and dancing there is
+no perfect joy in France. Never was _fête du village_ or _fête du
+Seigneur_ more joyful than this.
+
+The old steward opened the gate--the carriage drove in. Mad. de Fleury
+saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold; but
+all other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved
+pupils.
+
+"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got
+out of her carriage--"My dear _good_ children!"
+
+It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went
+into the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful
+excess of pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.
+
+Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
+appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke,
+and then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought
+their childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was
+changed the least, and at this she rejoiced.
+
+The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that
+Mad. de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of
+a day. She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction,
+repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her
+absence. She learned with delight how her restoration to her country
+and her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add,
+that Victoire consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably
+portioned, and, what is better still, that she was perfectly
+happy?--M. de Fleury rewarded the attachment and good conduct of
+Maurice, by taking him into his service; and making him his manager
+under the old steward at the Château de Fleury.
+
+On Victoire's wedding-day, Mad. de Fleury produced all the little
+offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her
+companions during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours,
+and she knew how to confer them both with grace and judgment.
+
+"No gratitude in human nature! No gratitude in the lower classes of
+the people!" cried she: "how much those are mistaken who think so!
+I wish they could know my history and the history of these _my
+children_, and they would acknowledge their error."
+
+_Edgeworthstown_, 1805.
+
+
+
+
+EMILIE DE COULANGES
+
+
+"I am young, I am in good health." said Emilie de Coulanges; "I am
+not to be pitied. But my poor mamma, who has been used all her life
+to such luxuries! And now to have only her Emilie to wait upon her!
+Her Emilie, who is but an awkward _femme de chambre_! But she will
+improve, it must be hoped; and as to the rest, things, which are now
+always changing, and which cannot change for the worse, must soon
+infallibly change for the better--and mamma will certainly recover
+all her property one of these days. In the mean time (if mamma is
+tolerably well), we shall be perfectly happy in England--that charming
+country, which, perhaps, we should never have seen but for this
+terrible revolution!--Here we shall assuredly find friends. The
+English are such good people!--Cold, indeed, at first--that's their
+misfortune: but then the English coldness is of manner, not of heart.
+Time immemorial, they have been famous for making the best friends in
+the world; and even to us, who are their _natural enemies_, they are
+generous in our distress. I have heard innumerable instances of their
+hospitality to our emigrants; and mamma will certainly not be the
+first exception. At her Hotel de Coulanges, she always received the
+English with distinguished attention; and though our hotel, with half
+Paris, has changed its name since those days, the English have too
+good memories to forget it, I am sure."
+
+By such speeches Emilie endeavoured to revive her mother's spirits.
+To a most affectionate disposition and a feeling heart she joined
+all the characteristic and constitutional gaiety of her nation; a
+gaiety which, under the pressure of misfortune, merits the name of
+philosophy, since it produces all the effects, and is not attended
+with any of the parade of stoicism.
+
+Emilie de Coulanges was a young French emigrant, of a noble family,
+and heiress to a large estate; but the property of her family had been
+confiscated during the revolution. She and her mother, la Comtesse
+de Coulanges, made their escape to England. Mad. de Coulanges was in
+feeble health, and much dispirited by the sudden loss of rank and
+fortune. Mlle. de Coulanges felt the change more for her mother than
+for herself; she always spoke of her mother's misfortunes, never of
+her own.
+
+Upon their arrival in London, Emilie, full of life and hope, went to
+present some of her mother's letters of recommendation. One of them
+was addressed to Mrs. Somers. Mlle. de Coulanges was particularly
+delighted by the manner in which she was received by this lady.
+
+"No English coldness!--no English reserve!--So warm in her expressions
+of kindness!--so eager in her offers of service!" Emilie could
+speak of nothing for the remainder of the day, but "cette charmante
+Mad. Somers!" The next day, and the next, and the next, she found
+increasing reasons to think her charming. Mrs. Somers exerted herself,
+indeed, with the most benevolent activity, to procure for Mad. de
+Coulanges every thing that could be convenient or agreeable. She
+prepared apartments in her own house for the mother and daughter,
+which she absolutely insisted upon their occupying immediately: she
+assured them that they should not be treated as visitors, but as
+inmates and friends of the family. She pressed her invitation with
+such earnestness, and so politely urged her absolute right to show her
+remembrance of the civilities which she had received at Paris, that
+there was no possibility of persisting in a refusal. The pride of high
+birth would have revolted at the idea of becoming dependent, but all
+such thoughts were precluded by the manner in which Mrs. Somers spoke;
+and the Comtesse de Coulanges accepted of the invitation, resolving,
+however, not to prolong her stay, if affairs in her own country should
+not take a favourable turn. She expected remittances from a Paris
+banker, with whom she had lodged a considerable sum--all that could be
+saved in ready money, in jewels, &c. from the wreck of her fortune:
+with this sum, if she should find all schemes of returning to France
+and recovering her property impracticable, she determined to live, in
+some retired part of England, in the most economical manner possible.
+But, in the mean time, as economy had never been either her theory or
+her practice, and as she considered retreat from _the world_ as the
+worst thing, next to death, that could befal a woman, she was glad to
+put off the evil hour. She acknowledged that ill health made her look
+some years older than she really was; but she could not think herself
+yet old enough to become _devout_; and, till that crisis arrived, she,
+of course, would not willingly be banished from _society_. So that,
+upon the whole, she was well satisfied to find herself established
+in Mrs. Somers's excellent house; where, but for the want of three
+antechambers, and of the Parisian quantity of looking-glass on every
+side of every apartment, la comtesse might have fancied herself at her
+own Hotel de Coulanges. Emilie would have been better contented to
+have been lodged and treated with less magnificence; but she rejoiced
+to see that her mother was pleased, and that she became freer from her
+_vapeurs noirs_[1]. Emilie began to love Mrs. Somers for making her
+mother well and happy--to love her with all the fearless enthusiasm of
+a young, generous mind, which accepts of obligation without any idea
+that gratitude may become burdensome. Mrs. Somers excited not only
+affection--she inspired admiration. Capable of the utmost exertion and
+of the most noble sacrifices for her friends, the indulgence of her
+generosity seemed not only to be the greatest pleasure of her soul,
+but absolutely necessary to her nature. To attempt to restrain her
+liberality was to provoke her indignation, or to incur her contempt.
+To refuse her benefits was to forfeit her friendship. She grew
+extremely fond of her present guests, because, without resistance,
+they permitted her to load them with favours. According to her custom,
+she found a thousand perfections in those whom she obliged. She had
+considered la Comtesse de Coulanges, when she knew her at Paris, as a
+very well-bred woman, but as nothing more; yet now she discovered that
+Mad. de Coulanges had a superior understanding and great strength
+of mind;--and Emilie, who had pleased her when a child, only by the
+ingenuous sweetness of her disposition and vivacity of her manners,
+was now become a complete angel--no angel had ever such a variety of
+accomplishments--none but an angel could possess such a combination of
+virtues. Mrs. Somers introduced her charming and noble emigrants to
+all her numerous and fashionable acquaintance; and she would certainly
+have quarrelled with any one who did not at least appear to sympathize
+in her sentiments. Fortunately there was no necessity for quarrelling;
+these foreigners were well received in every company, and Emilie
+pleased universally; or, as Mad. de Coulanges expressed it, "Elle
+avoit des grands _succès_ dans la société." The French comtesse
+herself could hardly give more emphatic importance to the
+untranslateable word _succès_ than Mrs. Somers annexed to it upon
+this occasion. She was proud of producing Emilie as her protégée; and
+the approbation of others increased her own enthusiasm: much as she
+did for her favourite, she longed to do more.--An opportunity soon
+presented itself.
+
+[Footnote 1: _Vapeurs noirs_--vulgarly known by the name of _blue
+devils_.]
+
+One evening, after Mad. de Coulanges had actually tired herself with
+talking to the crowd, which her vivacity, grace, and volubility had
+attracted about her sofa, she ran to entrench herself in an arm-chair
+by the fireside, sprinkled the floor round her with _eau de senteur_,
+drew, with her pretty foot, a line of circumvallation, and then,
+shaking her tiny fan at the host of assailants, she forbade them,
+under pain of her sovereign displeasure, to venture within the magic
+circle, or to torment her by one more question or compliment. It was
+now absolutely necessary to be serious, and to study the politics of
+Europe. She called for the French newspapers, which Mrs. Somers had
+on purpose for her; and, provided with a pinch of snuff, from the
+ever-ready box of a French abbé, whose arm was permitted to cross
+the line of demarcation, Mad. de Coulanges began to study. Silence
+ensued--for novelty always produces silence in the first instant of
+surprise. An English gentleman wrote on the back of a letter an offer
+to his neighbour of a wager, that the silence would be first broken by
+the French countess, and that it could not last above two minutes. The
+wager was accepted, and watches were produced. Before the two minutes
+had expired, the pinch of snuff dropped from the countess's fingers,
+and, clasping her hands together, she exclaimed, "Ah! ciel!"--The
+surrounding gentlemen, who were full of their wager, and who had
+heard, from the lady, during the course of the evening, at least a
+dozen exclamations of nearly equal vehemence about the merest trifles,
+were more amused than alarmed at this instant: but Emilie, who knew
+her mother's countenance, and who saw the sudden change in it, pressed
+through the circle, and just caught her mother in her arms as she
+fainted. Mrs. Somers, much alarmed, hastened to her assistance. The
+countess was carried out of the room, and every body was full of
+pity and of curiosity. When Mad. de Coulanges recovered from her
+fainting-fit, she was seized with one of her nervous attacks; so that
+no explanation could be obtained. Emilie and Mrs. Somers looked over
+the French paper, but could not find any paragraph unusually alarming.
+At length, more composed, the countess apologized for the disturbance
+which she had occasioned; thanked Mrs. Somers repeatedly for her
+kindness; but spoke in a hurried manner, as if she did not well know
+what she said. She concluded by declaring that she was subject to
+these nervous attacks, that she should be quite well the next morning,
+and that she did not wish that any one should sit up with her during
+the night except Emilie, who was used to her ways. With that true
+politeness which understands quickly the feelings and wishes of
+others, Mrs. Somers forbore to make any ill-timed inquiries or
+officious offers of assistance; but immediately retired, and ordered
+the attendants to leave the room, that Mad. de Coulanges and her
+daughter might be at perfect liberty. Early in the morning Mrs. Somers
+heard somebody knock softly at her door. It was Emilie.
+
+"Mrs. Masham told me that you were awake, madam, or I should not--"
+
+"Come in, come in, my dearest Emilie--I am awake--wide awake. Is your
+mother better?"
+
+"Alas! no, madam!"
+
+"Sit down, my dear, and do not call me _madam_, so coldly.--I do not
+deserve it."
+
+"My dear friend! friend of mamma! my dearest friend!" cried Emilie,
+bursting into tears, and seizing Mrs. Somers' hand; "do not accuse
+me of coldness to you. I am always afraid that my French expressions
+should sound exaggerated to English ears, and that you should think I
+say too much to be sincere in expressing my gratitude."
+
+"My sweet Emilie, who could doubt your sincerity?--none but a brute or
+a fool: but do not talk to me of gratitude."
+
+"I must," said Emilie; "for I feel it."
+
+"Prove it to me, then, in the manner I like best--in the only manner
+I like--by putting it in my power to serve you. I do not intrude upon
+your mother's confidence--I make no inquiries; but do me the justice
+to tell me how I can be of use to her--or rather to you. From you I
+expect frankness. Command my fortune, my time, my credit, my utmost
+exertions--they are all, they ever have been, they ever shall be,
+whilst I have life, at the command of my friends. And are not you my
+friend?"
+
+"Generous lady!--You overpower me with your goodness."
+
+"No praises, no speeches!--Actions for me!--Tell me how I can serve
+you."
+
+"Alas! _you_, even you, can do us no good in this business."
+
+"That I will never believe, till I know the business."
+
+"The worst of it is," said Emilie, "that we must leave you."
+
+"Leave me! Impossible!" cried Mrs. Somers, starting up.--You shall not
+leave me, that I am determined upon. Why cannot you speak out at once,
+and tell me what is the matter, Emilie? How can I act, unless I am
+trusted? and who deserves to be trusted by you, if I do not?"
+
+"Assuredly nobody deserves it better; and if it were only my affair,
+dear Mrs. Somers, you should have known it as soon as I knew it
+myself; but it is mamma's, more than mine."
+
+"Madame la comtesse, then, does not think me worthy of her
+confidence," said Mrs. Somers, in a haughty tone, whilst displeasure
+clouded her whole countenance. "Is that what I am to understand from
+you, Mille. de Coulanges?"
+
+"No, no; that is not what you are to understand, dear madam--my dear
+friend, I should say," cried Emilie, alarmed. "Certainly I have
+explained myself ill, or you could not suspect mamma for a moment of
+such injustice. She knows you to be most worthy of her confidence; but
+on this occasion her reserve, believe me, proceeds solely from motives
+of delicacy, of which you could not but approve."
+
+"Motives of delicacy, my dear Emilie," said Mrs. Somers, softening her
+tone, but still with an air of dissatisfaction--"motives of delicacy,
+my dear Emilie, are mighty pretty sounding words; and at your age I
+used to think them mighty grand things; but I have long since found
+out that _motives of delicacy_ are usually the excuse of weak minds
+for not speaking the plain truth to their friends. People quit the
+straight path from motives of delicacy, may be, to a worm or a
+beetle--vulgar souls, observe, I rank only as worms and beetles; they
+cross our path every instant in life; and those who fear to give them
+offence must deviate and deviate, till they get into a labyrinth,
+from which they can never extricate themselves, or be extricated. My
+Emilie, I am sure, will always keep the straight road--I know her
+strength of mind. Indeed, I did expect strength of mind from her
+mother; but, like all who have lived a great deal in the world, she
+is, I find, a slave to motives of delicacy."
+
+"Mamma's delicacy is of a very different sort from what you describe,
+and what you dislike," said Emilie. "But, since persisting in her
+reserve would, as I see, offend one whom she would be most sorry to
+displease, permit me to go this moment and persuade her to let me tell
+you the simple truth."
+
+"Go--run, my dear. Now I know my Emilie again. Now I shall be able to
+do some good."
+
+By the time that Emilie returned, Mrs. Somers was dressed: she had
+dressed in the greatest hurry imaginable, that she might be ready for
+action--instantaneous action--if the service of her friends, as she
+hoped, required it. Emilie brought the newspaper in her hand, which
+her mother had been reading the preceding night.
+
+"Here is all the mystery," said she, pointing to a paragraph which
+announced the failure of a Paris banker. "Mamma lodged all the money
+she had left in this man's hands."
+
+"And is that all?--I really expected something much more terrible."
+
+"It is terrible to mamma; because, depending on this man's
+punctuality, she has bought in London clothes and trinkets--chiefly
+for me, indeed--and she has no immediate means of paying these debts;
+but, if she will only keep her mind tranquil, all will yet be well.
+You flatter me that I play tolerably on the piano-forte and the harp;
+you will recommend me, and I can endeavour to teach music. So that, if
+mamma will but be well, we shall not be in any great distress--except
+in leaving you; that is painful, but must be done. Yes, it absolutely
+must. Mamma knows what is proper, and so do I. We are not people to
+encroach upon the generosity of our friends. I need not say more;
+for I am sure that Mrs. Somers, who is herself so well-born and
+well-educated, must understand and approve of mamma's way of
+thinking."
+
+Mrs. Somers replied not one word, but rang her bell violently--ordered
+her carriage.
+
+"Do not you breakfast, madam, before you go out?" said the servant.
+
+"No--no."
+
+"Not a dish of chocolate, ma'am?"
+
+"My carriage, I tell you.--Emilie, you have been up all night: I
+insist upon your going to bed this minute, and upon your sleeping till
+I come back again. La comtesse always breakfasts in her own room; so I
+have no apologies to make for leaving her. I shall be at home before
+her toilette is finished, and hope she will then permit me to pay
+my respects to her--you will tell her so, my dear. I must be gone
+instantly.--Why will they not let me have this carriage?--Where are
+those gloves of mine?--and the key of my writing-desk?--Ring again for
+the coach."
+
+Between the acting of a generous thing and the first motion, all the
+interim was, with Mrs. Somers, a delicious phantasma; and her ideas of
+time and distance were as extravagant as those of a person in a dream.
+She very nearly ran over Emilie in her way down stairs, and then said,
+"Oh! I beg pardon a thousand times, my dear!--I thought you had been
+in bed an hour ago."
+
+The toilette of Mad. de Coulanges, this morning, went on at the usual
+rate. Whether in adversity or prosperity, this was to la comtesse an
+elaborate, but never a tedious work. Long as it had lasted, it was,
+however, finished; and she had full leisure for a fit and a half of
+the vapours, before Mrs. Somers returned--she came in with a face
+radiant with joy.
+
+"Fortunately, most fortunately," cried she, "I have it in my power to
+repair the loss occasioned by the failure of this good-for-nothing
+banker! Nay, positively, Mad. de Coulanges, I must not be refused,"
+continued she, in a peremptory manner. "You make an enemy, if you
+refuse a friend."
+
+She laid a pocket-book on the table, and left the room instantly. The
+pocket-book contained notes to a very considerable amount, surpassing
+the sum which Mad. de Coulanges had lost by her banker; and on a
+scrap of paper was written in pencil "Mad. de Coulanges must never
+return this sum, for it is utterly useless to Mrs. Somers; as
+the superfluities it was appropriated to purchase are now in the
+possession of one who will not sell them."
+
+Astonished equally at the magnitude and the manner of the gift, Mad.
+de Coulanges repeated, a million of times, that it was "noble! très
+noble! une belle action!"--that she could not possibly accept of such
+an obligation--that she could not tell how to refuse it--that Mrs.
+Somers was the most generous woman upon earth--that Mrs. Somers had
+thrown her into a terrible embarrassment.
+
+Then la comtesse had recourse to her smelling-bottle, consulted
+Emilie's eyes, and answered them.
+
+"Child! I have no thoughts of accepting; but I only ask you how I can
+refuse, after what has been said, without making Mrs. Somers my enemy?
+You see her humour--English humours must not be trifled with--her
+humour, you see, is to give. It is a shocking thing for people of our
+birth to be reduced to receive, but we cannot avoid it without losing
+Mrs. Somers' friendship entirely; and that is what you would not wish
+to do, Emilie."
+
+"Oh, no, indeed!"
+
+"Now we must be under obligations to our milliner and jeweller, if we
+do not pay them immediately; for these sort of people call it a favour
+to give credit for a length of time: and I really think that it is
+much better to be indebted to Mrs. Somers than to absolute strangers
+and to rude tradespeople. It is always best to have to deal with
+polite persons."
+
+"And with generous persons!" cried Emilie; "and a more generous person
+than Mrs. Somers, I am sure, cannot exist."
+
+"And then," continued Mad. de Coulanges, "like all these rich English,
+she can afford to be generous. I am persuaded that this Mrs. Somers is
+as rich as a Russian princess; yes, as rich as the Russian princess
+with the superb diadem of diamonds. You remember her at Paris?"
+
+"No, mamma, I forget her," answered Emilie, with a look of absence of
+mind.
+
+"Bon Dieu! what can you be thinking of?" exclaimed Mad. de Coulanges.
+"You forget the Russian princess, with the diamond diadem, that was
+valued at 200,000 livres! She wore it at her presentation--it was the
+conversation of Paris for a week: you must recollect it, Emilie?"
+
+"Oh, yes: I recollect something about its cutting her forehead."
+
+"Not at all, my dear; how you exaggerate! The princess only
+complained, by way of something to say, that the weight of the
+diamonds made her head ache.
+
+"Was that all?"
+
+"That was all. But I will tell you what you are thinking of,
+Emilie--quite another thing--quite another person--broad Mad.
+Vanderbenbruggen: her diamonds were not worth looking at; and they
+were so horribly set, that she deserved all manner of misfortunes, and
+to be disgraced in public, as she was. For you know the bandeau slipt
+over her great forehead; and instead of turning to the gentlemen, and
+ordering some man of sense to arrange her head-dress, she kept holding
+her stiff neck stock still, like an idiot; she actually sat, with the
+patience of a martyr, two immense hours, till somebody cried, 'Ah!
+madame, here is the blood coming!' I see her before me this instant.
+Is it possible, my dear Emilie, that you do not remember the
+difference between this _buche_ of a Mad. Vanderbenbruggen, and our
+charming princess? but you are as dull as Mad. Vanderbenbruggen
+herself, this morning."
+
+The vivacious countess having once seized upon the ideas of Mad.
+Vanderbenbruggen, the charming princess, and the fine diamonds, it was
+some time before Emilie could recall her to the order of the day--to
+the recollection of her banker's failure, and of the necessity of
+giving an answer to generous Mrs. Somers. The decision of Mad. de
+Coulanges was probably at last influenced materially by the gay ideas
+of "stars and dukes, and all their sweeping train," associated with
+Mad. Vanderbenbruggen's image. The countess observed, that, after
+the style in which she had been used to live in the first company
+at Paris, it would be worse than death to be buried alive in some
+obscure country town in England; and that she would rather see Emilie
+guillotined at once, than condemned, with all her grace and talents,
+to work, like a galley slave, at a tambour frame for her bread all the
+days of her life.
+
+Emilie assured her mother that she should cheerfully submit to much
+greater evils than that of working at a tambour frame; and that, as
+far as her own feelings were concerned, she should infinitely prefer
+living by labour to becoming dependent. She therefore intreated that
+her mother might not, from any false tenderness for her Emilie, decide
+contrary to her own principles or wishes.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges, after looking in the glass, at length determined
+that it would be best to accept of Mrs. Somers' generous offer; and
+Emilie, who usually contrived to find something agreeable in all her
+mother's decisions, rejoiced that by this determination, Mrs. Somers
+at least would be pleased. Mrs. Somers, indeed, was highly gratified;
+and her expressions of satisfaction were so warm, that any body would
+have thought she was the person receiving, instead of conferring, a
+great favour. She thanked Emilie, in particular, for having vanquished
+her mother's false delicacy. Emilie blushed at hearing this undeserved
+praise; and assured Mrs. Somers that all the merit was her mother's.
+
+"What!" cried Mrs. Somers hastily, "was it contrary to your
+opinion?--Were you treacherous--were you my enemy--Mlle. de
+Coulanges?"
+
+Emilie replied that she had left the decision to her mother; that
+she confessed she had felt some reluctance to receive a pecuniary
+obligation, even from Mrs. Somers; but that she had rather be obliged
+to her than to any body in the world, except to her mamma.
+
+This explanation was not perfectly satisfactory to Mrs. Somers, and
+there was a marked coldness in her manner towards Emilie during the
+remainder of the day. Her affectionate and grateful disposition made
+her extremely sensible to this change; and, when she retired to her
+own room at night, she sat down beside her bed, and shed tears for the
+first time since she had been in England. Mrs. Somers happened to go
+into Emilie's room to leave some message for Mad. de Coulanges--she
+found Emilie in tears--inquired the cause--was touched and flattered
+by her sensibility--kissed her--blamed herself--confessed she had been
+extremely unreasonable--acknowledged that her temper was naturally too
+hasty and susceptible, especially with those she loved--but assured
+Emilie that this, which had been their first, should be their last
+quarrel;--a rash promise, considering the circumstances in which they
+were both placed. Those who receive and those who confer great favours
+are both in difficult situations; but the part of the benefactor is
+the most difficult to support with propriety. What a combination of
+rare qualities is essential for this purpose! Amongst others, sense,
+delicacy and temper. Mrs. Somers possessed all but the last; and,
+unluckily, she was not sensible of the importance of this deficiency.
+Confident and proud, that, upon all the grand occasions where
+the human heart is put to the trial, she could display superior
+generosity, she disdained attention to the minutiæ of kindness.
+This was inconvenient to her friends; because occasion for a great
+sacrifice of the heart occurs, perhaps, but once in a life, whilst
+small sacrifices of temper are requisite every day, and every hour[1].
+
+[Footnote 1: Since this was written, the author has seen the same
+thoughts so much better expressed in the following lines that she
+cannot forbear to quote them:
+
+  "Since trifles make the sum of human things,
+  And half our mis'ry from our foibles springs;
+  Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease,
+  And few can save or serve, but all may please:
+  Oh! let th'ungentle spirit learn from hence,
+  A small unkindness is a great offence.
+  Large bounties to bestow we wish in vain;
+  But all may shun the guilt of giving pain."
+
+SENSIBILITY. _By Mrs. H. More._]
+
+Mrs. Somers had concealed from Mad. de Coulanges and from Emilie the
+full extent of their obligation: she told them, that the sum of money
+which she offered had become useless to her, because it had been
+destined to the purchase of some superfluities, which were now in
+the possession of another person. The fact was, that she had been in
+treaty for two fine pictures, a Guido and a Correggio; these pictures
+might have been hers, but that on the morning, when she heard of
+the failure of the banker of Mad. de Coulanges, she had hastened to
+prevent the money from being paid for them. She was extremely fond
+of paintings, and had long and earnestly desired to possess these
+celebrated pictures; so that she had really made a great sacrifice
+of her taste and of her vanity. For some time she was satisfied with
+her own self-complacent reflections: but presently she began to be
+displeased that Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie did not see the full
+extent of her sacrifice. She became provoked by their want of
+penetration in not discovering all that she studiously concealed; and
+her mind, going on rapidly from one step to another, decided that this
+want of penetration arose from a deficiency of sensibility.
+
+One day, some of her visitors, who were admiring the taste with
+which she had newly furnished a room, inquired for what those two
+compartments were intended, looking at the compartments which had been
+prepared for the famous pictures. Mrs. Somers replied that she had not
+yet determined what she should put there: she glanced her eye upon
+Mad. de Coulanges and upon Emilie, to observe whether they _felt as
+they ought to do_. Mad. de Coulanges, imagining that an appeal was
+made to her taste, decidedly answered, that nothing would have so fine
+an effect as handsome looking-glasses: "Such," added she, "as we
+have at Paris. No house is furnished without them--they are absolute
+necessaries of life. And, no doubt, these places were originally
+intended for mirrors."
+
+"No," said Mrs. Somers, dryly, and with a look of great displeasure:
+"No, madame la comtesse, those places were not originally intended for
+looking-glasses."
+
+The countess secretly despised Mrs. Somers for her want of taste; but,
+being too well bred to dispute the point, she confessed that she was
+no judge--that she knew nothing of the matter; and then immediately
+turned to her abbé, and asked him if he remembered the superb mirrors
+in Mad. de V----'s charming house on the Boulevards. "It is," said
+she, "in my opinion one of the very best houses in Paris. There you
+enter the principal apartments by an antechamber, such as you ought to
+see in a great house, with real ottomanes, covered with buff trimmed
+with black velvet; and then you pass through the spacious salle à
+manger and the delightful saloon, hung with blue silk, to the _bijou_
+of a boudoir, that looks out upon the garden, with the windows shaded
+by the most beautiful flowering shrubs in summer, and in winter
+adorned with exotics. Then you see, through the plate-glass door of
+the boudoir, into the gallery of paintings--I call it a gallery, but
+it is, in fact, a delightful room, not a gallery--where you are not to
+perish in cold, whilst you admire the magnificence of the place. Not
+at all: it is warmed by a large stove, and you may examine the fine
+pictures at your ease, or, as you English would say, in comfort. This
+gallery must have cost M. de V---- an immense sum. The connoisseurs
+say that it is really the best collection of Flemish pictures in the
+possession of any individual in France. By-the-bye, Mrs. Somers, there
+is, amongst others, an excellent Van Dyck, a portrait of your Charles
+the First, when a boy, which I wonder that none of you rich English
+have purchased."
+
+The countenance of Mrs. Somers had clouded over more and more during
+this speech; but the heedless countess went on, with her usual
+volubility.
+
+"Yet, no doubt, M. de V---- would not sell this Van Dyck: but he
+would, I am told, part with his superb collection of prints, which
+cost him 30,000 of your pounds. He must look for a purchaser amongst
+those Polish and Russian princes who have nothing to do with their
+riches--for instance, my friend Lewenhof, who complained that he was
+not able to spend half his income in Paris; that he could not contrive
+to give an entertainment that cost him money enough. What can he do
+better than commence amateur?--then he might throw away money as fast
+as his heart could wish. M. l'abbé, why do not you, or some man of
+letters, write directly, and advise him to this, for the good of his
+country? What a figure those prints would make in Petersburgh!--and
+how they would polish the Russians! But, as a good Frenchwoman, I
+ought to wish them to remain at Paris: they certainly cannot be better
+than where they are."
+
+"True," cried Emilie, "they cannot be better than where they are, in
+the possession of those generous friends. I used to love to see Mad.
+de V---- in the midst of all her fine things, of which she thought so
+little. Her very looks are enough to make one happy--all radiant with
+good-humoured benevolence. I am sure one might always salute Mad.
+de V---- with the Chinese compliment, 'Felicity is painted in your
+countenance.'"
+
+This was a compliment which could not be paid to Mrs. Somers at the
+present instant; for her countenance was as little expressive of
+felicity as could well be imagined. Emilie, who suddenly turned and
+saw it, was so much struck that she became immediately silent. There
+was a dead pause in the conversation. Mad. de Coulanges was the only
+unembarrassed person in company; she was very contentedly arranging
+her hair upon her forehead opposite to a looking-glass. Mrs. Somers
+broke the silence by observing, that, in her opinion, there was no
+occasion for more mirrors in this room; and she added, in a voice
+of suppressed anger, "I did originally intend to have filled those
+unfortunate blanks with something more to my taste."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges was too much occupied with her ringlets to hear or
+heed this speech. Mrs. Somers fixed her indignant eyes upon Emilie,
+who, perceiving that she was offended, yet not knowing by what, looked
+embarrassed, and simply answered, "Did you?"
+
+This reply, which seemed as neutral as words could make it, and which
+was uttered not only with a pacific, but with an intimidated tone,
+incensed Mrs. Somers beyond measure. It put the finishing stroke
+to the whole conversation. All that had been said about elegant
+houses--antechambers--mirrors--pictures--amateurs--throwing away
+money; and the generous Mad. de V----, _who was always good-humoured_,
+Mrs. Somers fancied was meant _for her_. She decided that it was
+absolutely impossible that Emilie could be so stupid as not to have
+perfectly understood that the compartments had been prepared for the
+Guido and Correggio, which she had so generously sacrificed; and the
+total want of feeling--of common civility--evinced by Emilie's reply,
+was astonishing, was incomprehensible.
+
+The more she reflected upon the words, the more of artifice, of
+duplicity, of ingratitude, of insult, of meanness she discovered in
+them. In her cold fits of ill-humour, this lady was prone to degrade,
+as monsters below the standard of humanity, those whom, in the warmth
+of her enthusiasm, she had exalted to the state of angelic perfection.
+Emilie, though aware that she had unwittingly offended, was not aware
+how low she had sunk in her friend's opinion: she endeavoured, by
+playful wit and caresses, to atone for her fault, and to reinstate
+herself in her favour. But playful wit and caresses were aggravating
+crimes; they were proofs of obstinacy in deceit, of a callous
+conscience, and of a heart that was not to be touched by the marked
+displeasure of a benefactress. Three days and three nights did the
+displeasure of Mrs. Somers continue in full force, and manifest itself
+by a variety of signs, which were lost upon Mad. de Coulanges, but
+which were all intelligible to poor Emilie. She made several attempts
+to bring on an explanation, by saying, "Are you not well?--Is any
+thing the matter, dear Mrs. Somers?" But these questions were always
+coldly answered by, "I am perfectly well, I thank you, Mlle. de
+Coulanges--why should you imagine that any thing is the matter with
+me?"
+
+At the end of the third day of reprobation, Emilie, who could no
+longer endure this state, resolved to take courage and to ask pardon
+for her unknown offence. That night she went, trembling like a real
+criminal, into Mrs. Somers' dressing-room, kissed her forehead, and
+said, "I hope you have not such a headache as I have?"
+
+"Have you the headache?--I am sorry for it," said Mrs. Somers; "but
+you should take something for it--what will you take?"
+
+"I will take nothing, except--your forgiveness."
+
+"My forgiveness!--you astonish me, Mlle. de Coulanges! I am sure that
+I ought to ask yours, if I have said a word that could possibly give
+you reason to imagine I am angry--I really am not conscious of any
+such thing; but if you will point it out to me--"
+
+"You cannot imagine that I come to accuse you, dear Mrs. Somers; I do
+not attempt even to justify myself: I am convinced that, if you are
+displeased, it cannot be without reason."
+
+"But still you do not tell me how I have shown this violent
+displeasure: I have not, to the best of my recollection, said an angry
+or a hasty word."
+
+"No; but when we love people, we know when they are offended, without
+their saying a hasty word--your manner has been so different towards
+me these three days past."
+
+"My manner is very unfortunate. It is impossible always to keep a
+guard over our manners: it is sufficient, I think, to guard our
+words."
+
+"Pray do not guard either with me," said Emilie; "for I would a
+thousand times rather that a friend should say or look the most angry
+things, than that she should conceal from me what she thought; for
+then, you know, I might displease her continually without knowing it,
+and perhaps lose her esteem and affection irretrievably, before I was
+aware of my danger--and with _you_--with you, to whom we owe so much!"
+
+Touched by the feeling manner in which Emilie spoke, and by the
+artless expression of her countenance, Mrs. Somers' anger vanished,
+and she exclaimed, "I have been to blame--I ask your pardon, Emilie--I
+have been much to blame--I have been very unjust--very ill-humoured--I
+see I was quite wrong--I see that I was quite mistaken in what I
+imagined."
+
+"And what did you imagine?" said Emilie.
+
+"_That_ you must excuse me from telling," said Mrs. Somers; "I am too
+much ashamed of it--too much ashamed of myself. Besides, it was a sort
+of thing that I could not well explain, if I were to set about it; in
+short, it was the silliest trifle in the world: but I assure you that
+if I had not loved you very much, I should not have been so foolishly
+angry. You must forgive these little infirmities of temper--you know
+my heart is as it should be."
+
+Emilie embraced Mrs. Somers affectionately; and, in her joy at this
+reconciliation, and in the delight she felt at being relieved from the
+uneasiness which she had suffered for three days, loved her friend the
+better for this quarrel: she quite forgot the pain in the pleasure of
+the reconciliation; and thought that, even if Mrs. Somers had been in
+the wrong, the candour with which she acknowledged it more than made
+amends for the error.
+
+"You must forgive these little infirmities of temper--you know my
+heart is as it should be."
+
+Emilie repeated these words, and said to herself, "Forgive them! yes,
+surely; I should be the most ungrateful of human beings if I did
+otherwise."
+
+Without being the most ungrateful of human beings, Emilie, however,
+found it very difficult to keep her resolution.
+
+Almost every day she felt the apprehension or the certainty of having
+offended her benefactress: and the causes by which she gave offence
+were sometimes so trifling as to elude her notice; so mysterious,
+that they could not be discovered; or so various and anomalous, that,
+even when she was told in what manner she had displeased, she could
+not form any rule, or draw any inference, for her future conduct.
+Sometimes she offended by differing, sometimes by agreeing, in taste
+or opinion with Mrs. Somers. Sometimes she perceived that she was
+thought positive; at other times, too complying. A word, a look,
+or even silence--passive silence--was sufficient to affront this
+susceptible lady. Then she would go on with a string of deductions, or
+rather of imaginations, to prove that there must be something wrong
+in Emilie's disposition; and she would insist upon it, that she knew
+better what was passing, or what would pass, in her mind, than Emilie
+could know herself. Nothing provoked Mrs. Somers more than the want
+of success in any of her active attempts to make others happy. She
+was continually angry with Emilie for not being sufficiently pleased
+or grateful for things which she had not the vanity to suspect were
+intended for her gratification, or which were not calculated to
+contribute to her amusement: this humility, or this difference of
+taste, was always considered as affectation or perversity. One day,
+Mrs. Somers was angry with Emilie because she did not thank her for
+inviting a celebrated singer to her concert; but Emilie had no idea
+that the singer was invited on her account: of this nothing could
+convince Mrs. Somers. Another day, she was excessively displeased
+because Emilie was not so much entertained as she had expected her to
+be at the installation of a knight of the garter.
+
+"Mad. de Coulanges expressed a wish to see the ceremony of the
+installation; and, though I hate such things myself, I took prodigious
+pains to procure tickets, and to have you well placed--"
+
+"Indeed, I was very sensible of it, dear madam."
+
+"May be so, my dear; but you did not look as if you were: you seemed
+tired to death, and said you were sleepy; and ten times repeated,
+'Ah! qu'il fait chaud!' But this is what I am used to--what I have
+experienced all my life. The more pains a person takes to please and
+oblige, the less they can succeed, and the less gratitude they are to
+expect."
+
+Emilie reproached herself, and resolved that, upon the next similar
+trial, she would not complain of being sleepy or tired; and that she
+would take particular care not to say--"Ah! qu'il fait chaud!" A short
+time afterwards she was in a crowded assembly, at the house of a
+friend of Mrs. Somers, a _rout_--a species of entertainment of which
+she had not seen examples in her own country (it appeared to her
+rather a barbarous mode of amusement, to meet in vast crowds, to
+squeeze or to be squeezed, without a possibility of enjoying any
+rational conversation). Emilie was fatigued, and almost fainting,
+from the heat, but she bore it all with a smiling countenance, and
+heroic gaiety; for this night she was determined not to displease
+Mrs. Somers. On their return home, she was rather surprised and
+disappointed to find this lady in a fit of extreme ill-humour.
+
+"I wanted to get away two hours ago," cried she; "but you would not
+understand any of my hints, Mlle. de Coulanges; and when I asked you
+whether you did not find it very hot, you persisted in saying, 'Not in
+the least--not in the least.'"
+
+Mrs. Somers was the more angry upon this occasion, because she
+recollected having formerly reproached Emilie, at the installation,
+for complaining of the heat; and she persuaded herself, that this was
+an instance of perversity in Emilie's temper, and a sly method of
+revenging herself for the past. Nothing could be more improbable, from
+a girl of such a frank, forgiving, sweet disposition; and no one would
+have been so ready to say so as Mrs. Somers in another mood; but the
+moment that she was irritated, she judged without common sense--never
+from general observations, but always from particular instances. It
+was in vain that Emilie disclaimed the motives attributed to her: she
+was obliged to wait the return of her friend's reason, and in the
+mean time to bear her reproaches--she did with infinite patience.
+Unfortunately this patience soon became the source of fresh evils.
+Because Emilie was so gentle, and so ready to acknowledge and to
+believe herself to be in the wrong, Mrs. Somers became convinced that
+she herself was in the right in all her complaints; and she fancied
+that she had great merit in passing over so many defects in one whom
+she had so much obliged, and who professed so much gratitude. Between
+the fits of her ill-humour, she would, however, waken to the full
+sense of Emilie's goodness, and would treat her with particular
+kindness, as if to make amends for the past. Then, if Emilie could
+not immediately resume that easy, gay familiarity of manner, which
+she used to have before experience had taught her the fear of
+offending, Mrs. Somers grew angry again and decided that Emilie had
+not sufficient elevation of soul to understand her character, or to
+forgive the _little infirmities_ of the best of friends. When she was
+under the influence of this suspicion, every thing that Emilie said or
+looked was confirmation strong. Mrs. Somers was apt in conversation to
+throw out general reflections that were meant to apply to particular
+persons; or to speak with one meaning obvious to all the company, and
+another to be understood only by some individual whom she wished to
+reproach. This art, which she had often successfully practised upon
+Emilie, she, for that reason, suspected that Emilie tried upon her.
+And then the utmost ingenuity was employed to torture words into
+strange meanings: she would misinterpret the plainest expressions, or
+attribute to them some double, mysterious signification.
+
+One evening Emilie had been reading a new novel, the merits of which
+were eagerly discussed by the company. Some said that the heroine
+was a fool: others, that she was a mad woman; some, that she was not
+either, but that she acted as if she were both; another party asserted
+that she was every thing that was great and good, and that it was
+impossible to paint in truer colours the passion of love. Mrs. Somers
+declared herself of this opinion; but Emilie, who happened not to be
+present when this declaration was made, on coming into the room and
+joining in the conversation, gave a diametrically opposite judgment:
+she said, that the author had painted the enthusiasm with which the
+heroine yielded to her passion, instead of the violence of the passion
+to which she yielded. The French abbé, to whom Emilie made this
+observation, repeated it triumphantly to Mrs. Somers, who immediately
+changed colour, and replied in a constrained voice, "Certainly that is
+a very apposite remark, and vastly well expressed; and I give Mlle. de
+Coulanges infinite credit for it."
+
+Emilie, who knew every inflection of Mrs. Somers' voice, and every
+turn of her countenance, perceived that these words of praise were
+accompanied with strong feelings of displeasure. She was much
+embarrassed, especially as her friend fixed her eyes upon her whilst
+she blushed; and this made her blush ten times more: she was afraid
+that the company, who were silent, should take notice of her distress;
+and therefore she went on talking very fast about the novel, though
+scarcely knowing what she said. She made sundry blunders in names and
+characters, which were eagerly corrected by the astonished Mad. de
+Coulanges, who could not conceive how any body could forget the
+dramatis personæ of the novel of the day. Mrs. Somers, all the time,
+preserved silence, as if she dared not trust herself to speak; but
+her compressed lips showed sufficiently the constraint under which
+she laboured. Whilst every body else went on talking, and helping
+themselves to refreshments which the servants were handing about,
+Mrs. Somers continued leaning on the mantel-piece in a deep reverie,
+pulling her bracelet round and round upon her wrist, till she was
+roused by Mad. de Coulanges, who appealed for judgment upon her new
+method of preparing an orange.
+
+"C'est à la corbeille--Tenez!" cried she, holding it by a slender
+handle of orange-peel; "Tenez! c'est à la corbeille!"
+
+Mrs. Somers, with a forced smile admired the orange-basket; but said,
+that, for her part, her hands were not sufficiently dexterous to
+imitate this fashion: "I," said she, "can only do like the king of
+Prussia and _other people_--squeeze the orange, and throw the peel
+away. By-the-bye, how absurd it was of Voltaire to be angry with the
+king of Prussia for that witty and just apologue!"
+
+"_Just!_" repeated Emilie.
+
+"Just!" reiterated Mrs. Somers, in a harsh voice: "surely you think
+it so. For my part, I like the king the better for avowing his
+principles--all the world act as he did, though few avow it."
+
+"What!" said Emilie, in a low voice, "do not you believe in the
+reality of gratitude?"
+
+"Apparently," cried Mad. de Coulanges, who was still busy with her
+orange, "apparently, madame is a disciple of our Rochefoucault, and
+allows of no principle but self-love. In that case, I shall have as
+bitter quarrels with her as I have with you, mon cher abbé;--for
+Rochefoucault is a man I detest, or rather, I detest his maxims--the
+duke himself, they say, was the most amiable man of his day. Only
+conceive, that such a man should ascribe all our virtues to self-love
+and vanity!"
+
+"And, perhaps," said the abbé, "it was merely vanity that made him say
+so--he wished to write a witty satirical book; but I will lay a wager
+he did not think as ill of human nature as he speaks of it."
+
+"He could hardly speak or think too ill of it," said Mrs. Somers, "if
+he judged of human nature by such speeches as that of the king of
+Prussia about his friend and the orange."
+
+"But," said Emilie, in a timid voice, "would it not be doing poor
+human nature injustice to judge of it by such words as those? I am
+convinced, with M. l'abbé, that some men, for the sake of appearing
+witty, speak more malevolently than they feel; and, perhaps, this was
+the case with the king of Prussia."
+
+"And Mlle. de Coulanges thinks, then," said Mrs. Somers, "that it
+is quite allowable, for the sake of appearing witty, to speak
+malevolently?"
+
+"Dear madam! dear Mrs. Somers!--no!" cried Emilie; "you quite
+misunderstood me."
+
+"Pardon me, I thought you were justifying the king of Prussia,"
+continued Mrs. Somers; "and I do not well see how that can be done
+without allowing--what many people do in practice, though not in
+theory--that it is right, and becoming, and prudent, to sacrifice a
+friend for a bon-mot."
+
+The angry emphasis, and pointed manner, in which Mrs. Somers spoke
+these words, terrified and completely abashed Emilie, who saw that
+something more was meant than met the ear. In her confusion she ran
+over a variety of thoughts; but she could not recollect any thing
+that she had ever said, which merited the name of a bon-mot--and a
+malevolent bon-mot! "Surely what I said about that foolish novel
+cannot have offended Mrs. Somers?--How is it possible!--She cannot
+be so childish as to be angry with me merely for differing with her
+in opinion. What I said might be bad criticism, but it could not be
+malevolent; it referred only to the heroine of a novel. Perhaps the
+author may be a friend of hers, or some person who is in distress,
+and whom she has generously taken under her protection. Why did not I
+think of this before?--I was wrong to give my opinion so decidedly:
+but then my opinion is of so little consequence; assuredly it can
+neither do good nor harm to any author. When Mrs. Somers considers
+this, she will be pacified; and when she is once cool again, she will
+feel that I could not mean to say any thing ill-natured."
+
+The moment Mrs. Somers saw that Emilie was sensible of her
+displeasure, she exerted herself to assume, during the remainder of
+the evening, an extraordinary appearance of gaiety and good-humour.
+Every body shared her smiles and kindness, except the unfortunate
+object of her indignation: she behaved towards Mlle. de Coulanges with
+the most punctilious politeness; but "all the cruel language of the
+eye" was sufficiently expressive of her real feelings. Emilie bore
+with this infirmity of temper with resolute patience: she expected
+that the fit would last only till she could ask for an explanation;
+and she followed Mrs. Somers, as was her usual custom upon such
+occasions, to her room at night, in order to assert her innocence.
+Mrs. Somers walked into her room in a reverie, without perceiving that
+she was followed by Emilie--threw herself into a chair--and gave a
+deep sigh.
+
+"What is the matter, my dear friend?" Emilie began; but, on hearing
+the sound of her voice, Mrs. Somers started up with sudden anger;
+then, constraining herself, she said, "Pardon me, Mlle. de Coulanges,
+if I tell you that I really am tired to-night--body and mind--I wish
+to have rest for both if possible--would you be so very obliging as to
+pull that bell for Masham?--I wish you a very good night.--I hope Mad.
+de Coulanges will have her ass's milk at the proper hour to-morrow--I
+have given particular orders for that purpose."
+
+"Your kindness to mamma, dear Mrs. Somers," said Emilie, "has been
+invariable, and--"
+
+"Spare me, I beseech you, Mlle. de Coulanges, all these _grateful
+speeches_--I really am not prepared to hear them with temper to-night.
+Were you so good as to ring that bell--or will you give me leave to
+ring it myself?"
+
+"If you insist upon it," said Emilie, gently withholding the tassel
+of the bell; "but if you would grant me five minutes--one minute--you
+might perhaps save yourself and me a sleepless night."
+
+Mrs. Somers, incapable of longer commanding her passion, made no
+reply, but snatched the bell-rope, and rang violently--Emilie let go
+the tassel and withdrew. She heard Mrs. Somers say to herself, as
+she left the room--"This is too much--too much--really too
+much!--hypocrisy I cannot endure.--Any thing but hypocrisy!"
+
+These words hurt Emilie more than any thing Mrs. Somers had ever
+said: her own indignation was roused, and she was upon the point
+of returning to vindicate herself; but gratitude, if not prudence,
+conquered her resentment: she recollected her promise to bear with the
+temper of her benefactress; she recollected all Mrs. Somers' kindness
+to her mother; and quietly retired to her room, determining to wait
+till morning for a more favourable opportunity to speak.--After
+passing a restless night, and dreaming the common dream of falling
+down precipices, and the uncommon circumstance of dragging Mrs.
+Somers after her by a bell-rope, she wakened to the confused, painful
+remembrance of all that had passed the preceding evening. She was
+anxious to obtain admittance to Mrs. Somers as soon as she was
+dressed; but Masham informed her that her lady had given particular
+orders that she should "_not be disturbed_." When Mrs. Somers made her
+appearance late at breakfast, there was the same forced good-humour
+in her countenance towards the company in general, and the same
+punctilious politeness towards Emilie, which had before appeared. She
+studiously avoided all opportunity of explaining herself; and every
+attempt of Emilie's towards a reconciliation, either by submissive
+gentleness or friendly familiarity, was disregarded, or noticed with
+cold disdain. Yet all this was visible only to her; for every body
+else observed that Mrs. Somers was in remarkably good spirits, and
+in the most actively obliging humour imaginable. After breakfast she
+proposed and arranged various parties of pleasure: she went with Mad.
+de Coulanges to pay several visits; a large company dined with her;
+and at night she went to a concert. In the midst of these apparent
+amusements, Emilie was made as unhappy as the marked, yet mysterious,
+displeasure of a benefactress could render a person of real
+sensibility. As she did not wish to expose herself to a second
+repulse, she forbore to follow Mrs. Somers to her room at night; but
+she sent her this note by Mrs. Masham.
+
+    "I have done or said something to offend you, dear Mrs. Somers.
+    If you knew how much pain I have felt from your displeasure, I am
+    sure you would explain to me what it can be. Is it possible that
+    my differing in opinion from you about the heroine of the novel
+    can have offended you?--Perhaps the author of the book is a friend
+    of yours, or under your protection. Be assured, that if this be
+    the case, I did not in the least suspect it at the time I made the
+    criticism. Perhaps it was this to which you alluded when you said
+    that the King of Prussia was not the only person who would not
+    hesitate to sacrifice a friend for a bon-mot. What injustice you
+    do me by such an idea! I will not here say one word about my
+    gratitude or my affection, lest you should again reproach me with
+    hypocrisy--any thing else I am able to bear. Pray write, if you
+    will not speak to me.
+
+    "EMILIE."
+
+When Emilie was just falling asleep, Masham came into her room with a
+note in her hand.
+
+"Mademoiselle, I am sorry to waken you; but my mistress thought you
+would not sleep, unless you read this note to-night."
+
+Emilie started up in her bed, and read the following _note_ of four
+pages.
+
+    "Yes I will write, because I am ashamed to speak to you, my dear
+    Emilie. I beg your pardon for pulling the bell-cord so violently
+    from your hand last night--you must have thought me quite
+    ill-bred; and still more, I reproach myself for what I said about
+    _hypocracy_--You have certainly the sweetest and gentlest temper
+    imaginable--would to Heaven I had! But the strength of my feelings
+    absolutely runs away with me. It is the doom of persons of great
+    sensibility to be both unreasonable and unhappy; and often, alas!
+    to involve in their misery those for whom they have the most
+    enthusiastic affection. You see, my dear Emilie, the price you
+    must pay for being my friend; but you have strength of mind
+    joined to a feeling heart, and you will bear with my defects.
+    Dissimulation is not one of them. In spite of all my efforts, I
+    find it is impossible ever to conceal from you any of even my most
+    unreasonable fancies--your note, which is so characteristically
+    frank and artless, has opened my eyes to my own folly. I must show
+    you that, when I am in my senses, I do you justice. You deserve to
+    be treated with perfect openness; therefore, however humiliating
+    the explanation, I will confess to you the real cause of my
+    displeasure. When you spoke of the heroine of this foolish novel,
+    what you said was so applicable to some part of my own history
+    and character, that I could not help suspecting you had heard the
+    facts from a person with whom you spent some hours lately; and I
+    was much hurt by your alluding to them in such a severe and public
+    manner. You will ask me, how I could conceive you to be capable of
+    such unprovoked malevolence: and my answer is, 'I cannot tell;' I
+    can only say, such is the effect of the unfortunate susceptibility
+    of my heart, or, to speak more candidly, of my temper. I confess
+    I cannot, in these particulars, alter my nature. Blame me as much
+    as I blame myself; be as angry as you please, or as you can, my
+    gentle friend: but at last you must pity and forgive me.
+
+    "Now that all this affair is off my mind, I can sleep in peace:
+    and so, I hope, will you, my dear Emilie--Good night! If
+    friends never quarrelled, they would never taste the joys of
+    reconciliation. Believe me,
+
+    "Your ever sincere and affectionate
+
+    "A. SOMERS."
+
+No one tasted the joys of reconciliation more than Emilie; but, after
+reiterated experience, she was inclined to believe that they cannot
+balance the evils of quarrelling. Mrs. Somers was one of those, who
+"confess their faults, but never mend;" and who expect, for this
+gratuitous candour, more applause than others would claim for the real
+merit of reformation. So far did this lady carry her admiration of her
+own candour, that she was actually upon the point of quarrelling with
+Emilie again, the next morning, because she did not seem sufficiently
+sensible of the magnanimity with which she had confessed herself to be
+ill-tempered. These few specimens are sufficient to give an idea of
+this lady's powers of tormenting; but, to form an adequate notion of
+their effect upon Emilie's spirits, we must conceive the same sort
+of provocations to be repeated every day, for several months. Petty
+torments, incessantly repeated, exhaust the most determined patience.
+
+All this time, Mad. de Coulanges went on very smoothly with Mrs.
+Somers; for she had not Emilie's sensibility; and, notwithstanding her
+great quickness, a hundred things might pass, and did pass, before
+her eyes, without her seeing them. She examined no farther than the
+surface; and, provided that there was not any deficiency of those
+_little attentions_ to which she had been accustomed, it never
+occurred to her that a friend could be more or less pleased: she did
+not understand or study physiognomy; a smile of the lips was, to her,
+always a sufficient token of approbation; and, whether it were merely
+conventional, or whether it came from the heart, she never troubled
+herself to inquire. Provided that she saw at dinner the usual
+_couverts_, and that she had a sufficient number of people to converse
+with, or rather to talk to, she was satisfied that every thing was
+right. All the variations in Mrs. Somers' temper were unmarked by
+her, or went under the general head, _vapeurs noirs_. This species
+of ignorance, or confidence, produced the best effects; for as Mrs.
+Somers could not, without passing the obvious bounds of politeness,
+make Mad. de Coulanges sensible of her displeasure, and as she had the
+utmost respect for the countess's opinion of her good breeding, she
+was, to a certain degree, compelled to command her temper. Mad. de
+Coulanges often, without knowing it, tried it terribly, by differing
+from her in taste and judgment, and by supporting her own side of the
+question with all the enthusiastic volubility of the French language.
+Sometimes the English and French music were compared--sometimes the
+English and French painters; and every time the theatre was mentioned,
+Mad. de Coulanges pronounced an eulogium on her favourite French
+actors, and triumphed over the comparison between the elegance of the
+French, and the _grossièreté_ of the English taste for comedy.
+
+"Good Heaven!" said she, "your fashionable comedies would be too
+absurd to make the lowest of our audiences at the Boulevards laugh;
+you have excluded sentiment and wit, and what have you in their place?
+Characters out of drawing and out of nature; grotesque figures, such
+as you see in a child's magic lantern. Then you talk of English
+humour--I wish I could understand it; but I cannot be diverted with
+seeing a tailor turned gentleman pricking his father with a needle, or
+a man making grimaces over a jug of sour beer."
+
+Mrs. Somers, piqued perhaps by the justice of some of these
+observations, would dryly answer, that it was impossible for a
+foreigner to comprehend English humour--that she believed the French,
+in particular, were destitute of taste for humour.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges insisted upon it, that the French have humour; and
+Molière furnished her with many admirable illustrations.
+
+Emilie, in support of her mother, read a passage from that elegant
+writer, M. Suard[1], who has lately attacked, with much ability, the
+pretensions of the English to the exclusive possession of humour.
+
+[Footnote 1: "Il est très-difficile de se faire une idée nette de ce
+que les Anglais entendent par ce mot; on a tenté plusieurs fois sans
+succès d'en donner une définition précise. Congreve, qui assurement a
+mis beaucoup d'_humour_ dans ses comédies, dit, que c'est _une manière
+singulière et inévitable de faire ou de dire quelque chose, qui est
+naturelle et propre à un homme seul, et qui distingue ses discours et
+ses actions des discours et des actions de tout autre._
+
+"Cette définition, que nous traduisons littéralement, n'est pas
+lumineuse; elle conviendrait également à la manière dont Alexandre
+parle et agit dans Plutarque, et à celle dont Sancho parle et agit
+dans Cervantes. II y a apparence que l'_humour_ est comme l'esprit, et
+que ceux qui en ont le plus ne savent pas trop bien ce que c'est.
+
+"Nous croyons que ce genre de plaisanterie consiste surtout dans des
+idées ou des tournures originales, qui tiennent plus au caractère qu'à
+l'esprit, et qui semblent échapper à celui qui les produit.
+
+"L'homme d'_humour_ est un plaisant sérieux, qui dit des choses
+plaisantes sans avoir l'air de vouloir être plaisant. Au reste, une
+scene de Vanbrugh ou une satire de Swift, feront mieux sentir ce que
+c'est, que toutes les définitions du monde. Quant à la prétention
+de quelques Anglais sur la possession exclusive de l'_humour_,
+nous pensons que si ce qu'ils entendent par ce mot est un genre de
+plaisanterie qu'on ne trouve ni dans Aristophane, dans Plaute, et
+dans Lucien, chez lea anciens; ni dans l'Arioste, le Berni, le Pulci,
+et tant d'autres, chez les Italiens; ni dans Cervantes, chez les
+Espagnols; ni dans Rabener, chez les Allemands; ni dans le Pantagruel,
+la satire Ménippée, le Roman comique, les comédies de Molière, de
+Dufrèny, de Regnard etc., nous ne savons pas ce que c'est, et nous
+ne prendrons pas la peine de la chercher."--_Suard, Mélanges de
+Littérature_, vol. iv. p. 366.]
+
+Mrs. Somers then changed her ground, and inveighed against French
+tragedy, and the unnatural tones and attitudes of the French tragic
+actors.
+
+"Your heroes on the French stage," said she, "always look over their
+right shoulders, to express magnanimous disdain; and a lover, whether
+he be Grecian or Roman, Turk, Israelite, or American, must regularly
+show his passion by the pompous emphasis with which he pronounces the
+word MADAME!--a word which must certainly have, for a French audience,
+some magical charm, incomprehensible to other nations."
+
+What was yet more incomprehensible to Mad. de Coulanges, was the
+enthusiasm of the English for that bloody-minded barbarian Shakspeare,
+who is never satisfied till he has strewn the stage with dead bodies;
+who treats his audience like children, that are to be frightened
+out of their wits by ghosts of all sorts and sizes in their winding
+sheets; or by a set of old beggarmen, dressed in women's clothes,
+armed with broomsticks, and dancing and howling out their nonsensical
+song round a black kettle.
+
+Mrs. Somers, smiling as in scorn, would only reply, "Madame la
+comtesse, yours is Voltaire's Shakspeare, not ours.--Have you read
+Mrs. Montagu's essay upon Shakspeare?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then positively you must read it before we say one word more upon the
+subject."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges, though unwilling to give up the pleasure of
+talking, took the book, which Mrs. Somers pressed upon her, with a
+promise to read it through some morning; but, unluckily, she chanced
+to open it towards the end, and happened to see some animadversions
+upon Racine, by which she was so astonished and disgusted that she
+could read no more. She threw down the book, defying _any good critic
+to point out a single bad line in Racine_. "This is a defiance I have
+heard made by men of letters of the highest reputation in Paris,"
+added la comtesse: "have not you, Mons. l'Abbé?"
+
+The abbé, who was madame's common voucher, acceded, with this slight
+emendation--that he had heard numbers defy any critic of good taste to
+point out a flat line in _Phædre_.
+
+Mrs. Somers would, perhaps, have acknowledged the beauties of Phædre,
+if she had not been piqued by this defiance; but exaggeration on one
+side produced injustice on the other: and these disputes about Racine
+and Shakspeare were continually renewed, and never ended to the
+satisfaction of either party. Those who will not make allowances for
+national prejudice, and who do not consider how much all our tastes
+are influenced by early education, example, and the accidental
+association of ideas, may dispute for ever without coming to
+any conclusion; especially, if they avoid stating any distinct
+proposition; if each of the combatants sets up a standard of his own,
+as the universal standard of taste; and if, instead of arguments,
+both parties have recourse to wit and ridicule. In these skirmishes,
+however, Mad. de Coulanges, though apparently the most eager for
+victory, never seriously lost her temper--her eagerness was more of
+manner than of mind; after pleading the cause of Racine, as if it were
+a matter of life and death, as if the fate of Europe or the universe
+depended upon it, she would turn to discuss the merits of a riband
+with equal vehemence, or coolly observe that she was hoarse, and that
+she would quit Racine for a better thing--_de l'eau sucré_. Mrs.
+Somers, on the contrary, took the cause of Shakspeare, or any other
+cause that she defended, seriously to heart. The wit or raillery of
+her adversary, if she affected not to be hurt by it at the moment,
+left a sting in her mind which rankled long and sorely. Though she
+often failed to refute the arguments brought against her, yet she
+always rose from the debate precisely of her first opinion; and even
+her silence, which Mad. de Coulanges sometimes mistook for assent or
+conviction, was only the symptom of contemptuous pity--the proof
+that she deemed the understanding of her opponent beneath all fair
+competition with her own. The understanding of Mad. de Coulanges had,
+indeed, in the space of a few months, sunk far below the point of
+mediocrity, in Mrs. Somers' estimation--she had begun by overvaluing,
+and she ended by underrating it. She at first had taken it for granted
+that Mad. de Coulanges possessed a "very superior understanding and
+great strength of mind;" then she discovered that la comtesse was
+"uncommonly superficial, even for a Frenchwoman;" and at last she
+decided, that "really Mad. de Coulanges was a very silly woman."
+
+Mrs. Somers now began to be seriously angry with Emilie for always
+being of her mother's opinion: "It is really, Mlle. de Coulanges,
+carrying your filial affection too far. We cold-hearted English can
+scarcely conceive this sort of fervid passion, which French children
+express about every thing, the merest trifle, that relates to
+_mamma!_--Well! it is an amiable national prejudice; and one cannot
+help wishing that it may never, like other amiable enthusiasms, fail
+in the moment of serious trial."
+
+Emilie, touched to the quick upon a subject nearest her heart, replied
+with a degree of dignity and spirit which surprised Mrs. Somers, who
+had never seen in her any thing but the most submissive gentleness.
+"The affection, whether enthusiastic or not, which we French children
+profess for our parents, has been of late years put to some strong
+trials, and has not been found to fail. In many instances it
+has proved superior to all earthly terrors--to imprisonment--to
+torture--to death--to Robespierre. Daughters have sacrificed
+themselves for their parents.--Oh! if _my_ life could have saved my
+father's!"
+
+Emilie clasped her hands, and looked up to heaven with the unaffected
+expression of filial piety in her countenance. Every body was silent.
+Mrs. Somers was struck with regret--with remorse--for the taunting
+manner in which she had spoken.
+
+"My dearest Emilie, forgive me!" cried she; "I am shocked at what I
+said."
+
+Emilie took Mrs. Somers' hand between hers, and endeavoured to smile.
+Mrs. Somers resolved that she would keep, henceforward, the strictest
+guard upon her own temper; and that she would never more be so
+ungenerous, so barbarous, as to insult one who was so gentle, so
+grateful, so much in her power, and so deserving of her affection.
+These good resolutions, formed in the moment of contrition, were,
+however, soon forgotten: strong emotions of the heart are transient in
+their power; habits of the temper permanent in their influence.--Like
+a child who promises to be always _good_, and forgets its promise
+in an hour, Mrs. Somers soon grew tired of keeping her temper in
+subjection. It did not, indeed, break out immediately towards
+Emilie; but, in her conversations with Mad. de Coulanges, the same
+feelings of irritation and contempt recurred; and Emilie, who was a
+clear-sighted bystander, suffered continual uneasiness upon these
+occasions--uneasiness, which appeared to Mad. de Coulanges perfectly
+causeless, and at which she frequently expressed her astonishment.
+Emilie's prescient kindness often, indeed, "felt the coming storm;"
+while her mother's careless eye saw not, even when the dark cloud
+was just ready to burst over her head. With all the innocent address
+of which she was mistress, Emilie tried to turn the course of the
+conversation whenever it tended towards _dangerous_ subjects of
+discussion; but her mother, far from shunning, would often dare and
+provoke the war; and she would combat long after both parties were
+in the dark, even till her adversary quitted the field of battle,
+exclaiming, "_Let us have peace on any terms, my dear countess!--I
+give up the point to you, Mad. de Coulanges._"
+
+This last phrase Emilie particularly dreaded, as the precursor of
+ill-humour for some succeeding hours. Mrs. Somers at length became so
+conscious of her own inability to conceal her contempt or to command
+her temper, that she was almost as desirous as Emilie could be to
+avoid these arguments; and, the moment the countess prepared for the
+attack, she would recede, with, "Excuse me, Mad. de Coulanges: we had
+better not talk upon these subjects--it is of no use--really of no
+manner of use: let us converse upon other topics--there are subjects
+enough, I hope, upon which we shall always agree."
+
+Emilie was at first rejoiced at this arrangement, but the constraint
+was insupportable to her mother: indeed, the circle of proper subjects
+for conversation contracted daily; for not only the declared offensive
+topics were to be avoided, but innumerable others, bordering on or
+allied to them, were to be shunned with equal care--a degree of
+caution of which the volatile countess was utterly incapable. One
+day, at dinner, she asked the gentleman opposite to her, "How long
+this intolerable rule--of talking only upon subjects where people are
+of the same opinion--had been the fashion, and what time it would
+probably last in England?--If it continue much longer, I must fly
+the country," said she. "I would almost as soon, at this rate, be a
+prisoner in Paris, as in your land of freedom. You value, above all
+things, your liberty of the press--now, to me, liberty of the tongue,
+which is evidently a part, if not the best part, of personal liberty,
+is infinitely more dear. Bon Dieu!--even in l'Abbaye one might talk of
+Racine!"
+
+Mad. de Coulanges spoke this half in jest, half in earnest; but Mrs.
+Somers took it wholly in earnest, and was most seriously offended.
+Her feelings upon the occasion were strongly expressed in a letter
+to a friend, to whom she had, from her infancy, been in the habit of
+confiding all her joys and sorrows--all the histories of her loves
+and hates--of her quarrels and reconciliations. This friend was an
+elderly lady, who, besides possessing superior mental endowments which
+inspired admiration, and a character which commanded high respect, was
+blessed with an uncommonly placid, benevolent temper. This enabled her
+to do what no other human being had ever accomplished--to continue
+in peace and amity, for upwards of thirty years, with Mrs. Somers.
+The following is one of many hundreds of epistolary complaints or
+invectives, which, during the course of that time, this "much enduring
+lady" was doomed to read and answer.
+
+    "TO LADY LITTLETON.
+
+    "For once, my dear friend, I am secure of your sympathizing in my
+    indignation--my long suppressed, just, virtuous indignation--yes,
+    virtuous; for I do hold indignation to be a part of virtue: it
+    is the natural, proper expression of a warm heart and a strong
+    character against the cold-blooded vices of meanness and
+    ingratitude. Would that those to whom I allude could feel it
+    as a punishment!--but no, this is not the sort of punishment
+    they are formed to feel. Nothing but what comes home to their
+    interests--their paltry interests!--their pleasures--their
+    selfish pleasures!--their amusements--their frivolous amusements!
+    can touch souls of such a sort. To this half-formed race of
+    _worldlings_, who are scarce endued with a moral sense, the
+    generous expression of indignation always appears something
+    incomprehensible--ridiculous; or, in their language, _outré!
+    inouï_! With such beings, therefore, I always am--as much as my
+    nature will allow me to be--upon my guard; I keep within what
+    they call the bounds of politeness--their dear politeness! What a
+    system of _simagrée_ it is, after all! and how can honest human
+    nature bear to be penned up all its days by the Chinese paling of
+    ceremony, or that French filigree work, _politesse_? English human
+    nature cannot endure this, as _yet_; and I am glad of it--heartily
+    glad of it--Now to the point.
+
+    "You guess that I am going to speak of the Coulanges. Yes, my
+    dear friend, you were quite right in advising me, when I first
+    became acquainted with them, not to give way blindly to my
+    enthusiasm--not to be too generous, or to expect too much
+    gratitude. Gratitude! why should I ever expect to meet with
+    any?--Where I have most deserved, most hoped for it, I have
+    been always most disappointed. My life has been a life of
+    sacrifices!--thankless and fruitless sacrifices! There is not any
+    possible species of sacrifice of interest, pleasure, happiness,
+    which I have not been willing to make--which I have not made--for
+    my friends--for my enemies. Early in life, I gave up a lover I
+    adored to a friend, who afterwards deserted me. I married a man I
+    detested to oblige a mother, who at last refused to see me on her
+    death-bed. What exertions I made for years to win the affection of
+    the husband to whom I was only bound in duty! My generosity was
+    thrown away upon him--he died--I became ambitious--I had means
+    of gratifying my ambition--a splendid alliance was in my power.
+    Ambition is a strong passion as well as love--but I sacrificed
+    it without hesitation to my children--I devoted myself to the
+    education of my two sons, one of whom has never, in any instance,
+    since he became his own master, shown his mother tenderness or
+    affection; and who, on some occasions, has scarcely behaved
+    towards her with the common forms of respect and duty. Despairing,
+    utterly despairing of gratitude from my own family and natural
+    friends, I looked abroad, and endeavoured to form friendships with
+    strangers, in hopes of finding more congenial tempers. I spared
+    nothing to earn attachment--my time, my health, my money. I
+    lavished money so, as even, notwithstanding my large income, to
+    reduce myself frequently to the most straitened and embarrassing
+    circumstances. And by all I have done, by all I have suffered,
+    what have I gained?--not a single friend--except yourself. You, on
+    whom I have never conferred the slightest favour, you are at this
+    instant the only friend upon earth by whom I am really beloved. To
+    you, who know my whole history, I may speak of myself as I have
+    done, Heaven knows! not with vanity, but with deep humiliation and
+    bitterness of heart. The experience of my whole life leaves me
+    only the deplorable conviction that it is impossible to do good,
+    that it is vain to hope even for friendship from those whom we
+    oblige.
+
+    "My last disappointment has been cruel, in proportion to the fond
+    hopes I had formed. I cannot cure myself of this credulous folly.
+    I did form high expectations of happiness from the society and
+    gratitude of this Mad. and Mlle. de Coulanges; but the mother
+    turns out to be a mere frivolous French comtesse, ignorant,
+    vain, and positive--as all ignorant people are; full of national
+    prejudices, which she supports in the most absurd and petulant
+    manner. Possessed with the insanity, common to all Parisians, of
+    thinking that Paris is the whole world, and that nothing can be
+    good taste, or good sense, or good manners, but what is _à-la-mode
+    de Paris_; through all her boasted politeness, you see, even by
+    her mode of praising, that she has a most illiberal contempt for
+    all who are not Parisians--she considers the rest of the world
+    as barbarians. I could give you a thousand instances; but her
+    conversation is really so frivolous, that it is not worth
+    reciting. I bore with it day after day for several months with a
+    patience for which, I am sure, you would have given me credit;
+    and I let her go on eternally with absurd observations upon
+    Shakspeare, and extravagant nonsense about Racine. To avoid
+    disputing with her, I gave up every point--I acquiesced in all she
+    said--and only begged to have peace. Still she was not satisfied.
+    You know there are tempers which never can be contented, do what
+    you will to please them. Mad. de Coulanges actually quarrelled
+    with me for begging that we might have peace; and that we might
+    talk upon subjects where we should not be likely to disagree.
+    This will seem to you incredible; but it is the nature of French
+    caprice: and for this I ought to have been prepared. But, indeed,
+    I never could have prepared myself for the strange manner in which
+    this lady thought proper to manifest her anger this day at dinner,
+    before a large company. She spoke absolutely, notwithstanding all
+    her good-breeding, in the most brutally ungrateful manner; and,
+    after all I have done for her, she represented me as being as
+    great a tyrant as Robespierre, and spoke of my house as a more
+    intolerable prison than any in Paris!!! I only state the fact to
+    you, without making any comments--I never yet saw so thoroughly
+    selfish and unfeeling a human being.
+
+    "The daughter has as far too much as the mother has too little
+    sensibility. Emilie plagues me to death with her fine feelings
+    and her sentimentality, and all her French parade of affection,
+    and superfluity of endearing expressions, which mean nothing,
+    and disgust English ears. She is always fancying that I am angry
+    or displeased with her or with her mother; and then I am to have
+    tears, and explanations, and apologies: she has not a mind large
+    enough to understand my character: and if I were to explain to
+    eternity, she would be as much in the dark as ever. Yet, after
+    all, there is something so ingenuous and affectionate about this
+    girl that I cannot help loving her, and that is what provokes me;
+    for she does not, and never can, feel for me the affection that I
+    have for her. My little hastiness of temper she has not strength
+    of mind sufficient to bear--I see she is dreadfully afraid of
+    me, and more constrained in my company than in that of any other
+    person. Not a visitor comes, however insignificant, but Mlle. de
+    Coulanges seems more at her ease, and converses more with them
+    than with me--she talks to me only of gratitude, and such stuff.
+    She is one of those feeble persons who, wanting confidence in
+    themselves, are continually afraid that they shall not be grateful
+    enough; and so they reproach and torment themselves, and refine
+    and _sentimentalize_, till gratitude becomes burdensome (as it
+    always does to weak minds), and the very idea of a benefactor
+    odious. Mlle. de Coulanges was originally unwilling to accept of
+    any obligation from me: she knew her own character better than I
+    did. I do not deny that she has a heart; but she has no soul: I
+    hope you understand and feel the difference. I rejoice, my dear
+    Lady Littleton, that you are coming to town immediately. I am
+    harassed almost to death between want of feeling and fine feeling.
+    I really long to see you and to talk over all these things. Nobody
+    but you, my dear friend, ever understood me.--Farewell!
+
+    "Yours affectionately,
+
+    "A. SOMERS."
+
+To this long letter, Lady Littleton replied by the following short
+note.
+
+    "I hope to see you the day after to-morrow, my dear friend; in the
+    mean time, do not decide, irrevocably, that Mlle. de Coulanges has
+    no soul.
+
+    "Yours affectionately,
+
+    "L. LITTLETON."
+
+Mrs. Somers was rather disappointed by the calmness of this note; and
+she was most impatient to see Lady Littleton, that she might work up
+her mind to the proper pitch of indignation. She stationed a servant
+at her ladyship's house to give her notice the moment of her arrival
+in town. The instant that she was informed of it she ordered her
+carriage; and the whole of her conversation during this visit was an
+invective against Emilie and Mad. de Coulanges. The next day, Emilie,
+who had heard the most enthusiastic eulogiums upon Lady Littleton,
+expressed much satisfaction on finding that she was come to town; and
+requested Mrs. Somers' permission to accompany her on her next visit.
+The request was rather embarrassing; but Mrs. Somers granted it with
+a sort of constrained civility. It was fortunate for Emilie that she
+was so unsuspicious; for her manner was consequently frank, natural,
+and affectionate; and she appeared to the greatest advantage to Lady
+Littleton. Mrs. Somers threw herself back in the chair and sat silent,
+whilst Emilie, in hopes of pleasing her, conversed with the utmost
+freedom with her friend. The conversation, at last, was interrupted
+by an exclamation from Mrs. Somers, "Good Heavens! my dear Lady
+Littleton, how can you endure this smell of paint? It has made my head
+ache terribly--where does it come from?"
+
+"From my bedchamber," said Lady Littleton. "They have, unluckily,
+misunderstood my orders; and they have freshly painted every one in my
+house."
+
+"Then it is impossible that you should sleep here--I will not allow
+you--it will poison you--it will give you the palsy immediately--it
+is destruction--it is death. You must come home with me directly--I
+insist upon it--But, no," said she, checking herself, with a look of
+sudden disappointment, "no, my dearest friend! I cannot invite you;
+for I have not a bed to offer you."
+
+"Yes, mine--you forget mine--dear Mrs. Somers," cried Emilie; "you
+know I can sleep with mamma."
+
+"By no means, Mlle. de Coulanges; you cannot possibly imagine--"
+
+"I only imagine the truth," said Emilie, "that this arrangement would
+be infinitely more convenient to mamma; I know she likes to have me in
+the room with her. Pray, dear Mrs. Somers, let it be so."
+
+Mrs. Somers made many ceremonious speeches: but Lady Littleton seemed
+so well inclined to accept Emilie's offered room, that she was obliged
+to yield. She was vexed to perceive that Emilie's manners pleased
+Lady Littleton; and, after they returned home, the activity with
+which Emilie moved her books, her drawing-box, work, &c., furnished
+Mrs. Somers with fresh matter for displeasure. At night, when Lady
+Littleton went to take possession of her apartment, and when she
+observed how active and obliging Mlle. de Coulanges had been, Mrs.
+Somers shook her head, and replied, "All this is just a proof to
+me of what I asserted, Lady Littleton--and what I must irrevocably
+assert--that Mlle. de Coulanges has no soul. You are a new
+acquaintance, and I am an old friend. She exerts herself to please
+you; she does not care what I think or what I feel about the matter.
+Now this is just what I call having no soul."
+
+"My dear Mrs. Somers," said Lady Littleton, "be reasonable; and you
+must perceive that Emilie's eagerness to please me arises from her
+regard and gratitude to you: she has, I make no doubt, heard that I
+am your intimate friend, and your praises have disposed her to like
+me.--Is this a proof that she has no soul?"
+
+"My dear Lady Littleton, we will not dispute about it--I see you are
+fascinated, as I was at first. Manner is a prodigious advantage--but I
+own I prefer solid English sincerity. Stay a little: as soon as Mlle.
+de Coulanges thinks herself secure of you, she will completely abandon
+me. I make no doubt that she will complain to you of my bad temper and
+ill usage; and I dare say that she will succeed in prejudicing you
+against me."
+
+"She will succeed only in prejudicing me against herself, if she
+attempt to injure you," said Lady Littleton; "but, till I have some
+plain proof of it, I cannot believe that any person has such a base
+and ungrateful disposition."
+
+Mrs. Somers spent an hour and a quarter in explaining her causes of
+complaint against both mother and daughter; and she at last retired
+much dissatisfied, because her friend was not as angry as she was,
+but persisted in the resolution to see more before she decided.
+After passing a few days in the house with Mlle. de Coulanges, Lady
+Littleton frankly declared to Mrs. Somers that she thought her
+complaints of Emilie's temper quite unreasonable, and that she was
+a most amiable and affectionate girl. Respect for Lady Littleton
+restrained Mrs. Somers from showing the full extent of her vexation;
+she contented herself with repeating, "Mlle. de Coulanges is certainly
+a very amiable young woman--I would by no means prejudice you against
+her--but when you know her as well as I do, you will find that she has
+no soul."
+
+Mrs. Somers, in the course of four-and-twenty hours, found a multitude
+of proofs in support of her opinion; but they were none of them
+absolutely satisfactory to Lady Littleton's judgment. Whilst they were
+debating about her character, Emilie came into the room to show Mrs.
+Somers a _French_ translation, which she had been making, of a pretty
+little English poem, called "The Emigrant's Grave." It was impossible
+to be displeased with the translation, or with the motive from which
+it was attempted; for it was done at the particular request of Mrs.
+Somers. This lady's ingenuity, however, did not fail to discover some
+cause for dissatisfaction. Mlle. de Coulanges had adapted the words to
+a French, and not to an English air.
+
+"This is a favourite air of mamma's," said Emilie, "and I thought that
+she would be pleased by my choosing it."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Somers, in her constrained voice, "I remember
+that the Countess de Coulanges and her friend--or your friend--M. de
+Brisac, were charmed with this air, when you sang it the other night.
+I found fault with it, I believe--but then you had a majority against
+me; and with some people that is sufficient. Few ask themselves _what
+constitutes a majority_--numbers or sense. Judgments and tastes may
+differ in value; but one vote is always as good as another, in the
+opinion of those who are decided merely by numbers."
+
+"I hope that I shall never be one of those," said Emilie. "Upon
+the present occasion I assure you, my dear Mrs. Somers, that I was
+influenced by--"
+
+"Oh! my dear Mlle. de Coulanges," interrupted Mrs. Somers, "you need
+not give yourself the trouble to explain about such a trifle--the
+thing is perfectly clear. And nothing is more natural than that you
+should despise the taste of a friend when put in competition with that
+of a lover."
+
+"Of a lover!"
+
+"Yes, of a lover. Why should Mlle. de Coulanges think it necessary to
+look astonished? But young ladies imagine this sort of dissimulation
+is becoming; and can I hope to meet with an exception, or to find one
+superior to the _finesse_ of her sex?--I beg your pardon, Mlle. de
+Coulanges, I really forgot that Lady Littleton was present when this
+terrible word lover escaped--but I can assure you that frankness is
+not incompatible with _her_ ideas of delicacy."
+
+"You are mistaken, dear Mrs. Somers; indeed you are mistaken," said
+Emilie; "but you are displeased with me now, and I will take a more
+favourable moment to set you right. In the mean time, I will go and
+water the hydrangia, which I forgot, and which I reproached myself for
+forgetting yesterday."
+
+Emilie left the room.
+
+"Are you convinced now, my dear Lady Littleton," cried Mrs. Somers,
+"that this girl has no soul--and very little heart?"
+
+"I am convinced only that she has an excellent temper," said Lady
+Littleton. "I hope you do not think a good temper is incompatible with
+a heart or a soul."
+
+"I will tell you what I think, and what I am sure of," cried Mrs.
+Somers, raising her voice; "that Mlle. de Coulanges will be a constant
+cause of dispute and uneasiness between you and me, Lady Littleton--I
+foresee the end of this. As a return for all I have done for her and
+her mother, she will rob me of the affections of one whom I love and
+esteem, respect and admire--as she well knows--above all other human
+beings. She will rob me of the affections of one who has been my
+friend, my best, my only constant friend, for twenty years!--Oh! why
+am I doomed eternally to be the victim of ingratitude?"
+
+In spite of Lady Littleton's efforts to stop and calm her, Mrs. Somers
+burst out of the room in an agony of passion. She ran up a back
+staircase which led to her dressing-room, but suddenly stopped when
+she came to the landing-place, for she found Emilie watering her
+plants.
+
+"Look, dear Mrs. Somers, this hydrangia is just going to blow; though
+I was so careless as to forget to water it yesterday."
+
+"I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges, that you will not trouble yourself," said
+Mrs. Somers, haughtily. "Surely there are servants enough in this
+house whose business it is to remember these things."
+
+"Yes," said Emilie, "it is their business, but it is my pleasure. You
+must not, indeed you must not, take my watering-pot from me!"
+
+"Pardon me, I must, mademoiselle--you are very condescending and
+polite, and I am very blunt and rude, or whatever you please to think
+me. But the fact is, that I am not to be flattered by what the French
+call _des petites attentions_: they are suited to little minds, but
+not to me. You will never know my character, Mlle. de Coulanges--I am
+not to be pleased by such means."
+
+"Teach me then better means, my dear friend, and do not bid me despair
+of ever pleasing you," said Emilie, throwing her arms round Mrs.
+Somers to detain her.
+
+"Excuse me--I am an Englishwoman, and do not love _embrassades_, which
+mean nothing," said Mrs. Somers, struggling to disengage herself; and
+she rushed suddenly forward, without perceiving that Emilie's foot was
+entangled in her train. Emilie was thrown from the top of the stairs
+to the bottom. Mrs. Somers screamed--Lady Littleton came out of her
+room.
+
+"She is dead!--I have killed her!"--cried Mrs. Somers. Lady Littleton
+raised Emilie from the ground--she was quite stunned by the violence
+of the fall.
+
+"Oh! speak to me! dearest Emilie, speak once more!" said Mrs. Somers.
+
+As soon as Emilie could speak, she assured Mrs. Somers that she should
+be quite well in a few minutes. When she attempted, however, to
+walk, she found she was unable to move, for her ankle was violently
+sprained: she was carried into Lady Littleton's room, and placed upon
+a sofa. She exerted herself to bear the pain she felt, that she might
+not alarm or seem to reproach Mrs. Somers; and she repeatedly blamed
+herself for the awkwardness with which she had occasioned her own
+fall. Mrs. Somers, in the greatest bustle and confusion, called every
+servant in the house about her, sent them different ways for all the
+remedies she had ever heard of for a sprain; then was sure Emilie's
+skull was fractured--asked fifty times in five minutes whether she did
+not feel a certain sickness in her stomach, which was the infallible
+sign of "_something wrong_"--insisted upon her smelling at salts,
+vinegar, and various essences; and made her swallow, or at least
+taste, every variety of drops and cordials. By this time Mad. de
+Coulanges, who was at her toilet, had heard of the accident, and came
+running in half dressed; the hurry of Mrs. Somers' manner, the crowd
+of assistants, the quantity of remedies, the sight of Emilie stretched
+upon a sofa, and the sound of the word _fracture_, which caught her
+ear, had such an effect upon the countess, that she was instantly
+seized with one of her nervous attacks; and Mrs. Somers was astonished
+to see Emilie spring from the sofa to assist her mother. When Mad. de
+Coulanges recovered, Emilie used all her powers of persuasion to calm
+her spirits, laughed at the idea of her skull being fractured, and
+said, that she had only twisted her ankle, which would merely prevent
+her from dancing for a few days. The countess pitied herself for
+having such terribly weak nerves--congratulated herself upon her
+daughter's safety--declared that it was a miracle how she could
+have escaped, in falling down such a narrow staircase--observed,
+that, though the stairs in London were cleaner and better carpeted,
+the staircases of Paris were at least four times as broad, and,
+consequently, a hundred times as safe. She then reminded Emilie of an
+anecdote mentioned by Mad. de Genlis about a princess of France, who,
+when she retired to a convent, complained bitterly of the narrowness
+of the staircase, which, she said, she found a real misfortune to
+be obliged to descend. "Tell me, Emilie, what was the name of the
+princess?"
+
+"The Princess Louisa of France, I believe, mamma," replied Emilie.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges repeated, "Ay, the Princess Louisa of France;" and
+then, well satisfied, returned to finish her toilette.
+
+"You have an excellent memory, Mlle. de Coulanges," said Mrs. Somers,
+looking with an air of pique at Emilie. "I really am rejoiced to see
+you so much yourself again--I thought you were seriously hurt."
+
+"I told you that I was not," said Emilie, forcing a smile.
+
+"Yes, but I was such a fool as to be terrified out of my senses by
+seeing you lie down on the sofa. I might have saved myself and you a
+great deal of trouble. I must have appeared ridiculously officious. I
+saw indeed that I was troublesome; and I seem to be too much for you
+now. I will leave you with Lady Littleton, to explain to her how the
+accident happened. Pray tell the thing just as it was--do not spare
+me, I beg. I do not desire that Lady Littleton, or any friend I have
+upon earth, should think better of me than I deserve. Remember,
+you have my free leave, Mlle. de Coulanges, to speak of me as you
+think--so don't spare me!" cried Mrs. Somers, shutting the door with
+violence as she left the room.
+
+"Lean upon me, my dear," said Lady Littleton, who saw that Emilie
+turned exceedingly pale, and looked towards a chair, as if she wished
+to reach it, but could not.
+
+"I thought," said she, in a faint voice, "that this pain would go
+off, but it is grown more violent." Emilie could say no more; she had
+borne intense pain as long as she was able: and now, quite overcome,
+she leaned back, and fainted. Lady Littleton threw open the window,
+sprinkled water upon Emilie's face, and gave her assistance in the
+kindest manner, without calling any of the servants; she knew that
+the return of Mrs. Somers would do more harm than good. Emilie soon
+recovered her recollection; and, whilst Lady Littleton was rubbing the
+sprained ankle with ether, in hopes of lessening the pain, she asked
+how the accident had happened.--Emilie replied simply, that she had
+entangled her foot in Mrs. Somers' gown. "I understand, from what Mrs.
+Somers hinted when she left the room," said Lady Littleton, "that she
+was somehow in fault in this affair, and that you could blame her if
+you would; but I see that you will not; and I love you the better for
+justifying the good opinion that I had formed of you, Emilie.--But I
+will not talk sentiment to you now--you are in too much pain to relish
+it."
+
+"Not at all," said Emilie: "I feel more pleasure than pain at
+this moment; indeed my ankle does not hurt me now that I am quite
+still--the pleasant cold of the ether has relieved the pain. How kind
+you are to me, Lady Littleton, and how much I am obliged to you for
+judging so favourably of my character!"
+
+"You are not obliged to me, my dear, for I do you only justice."
+
+"Justice is sometimes felt as the greatest possible obligation,
+especially by those who have experienced the reverse.--But," said
+Emilie, checking herself, "let me not blame Mrs. Somers, or incline
+you to blame her. I should do very wrong, indeed, if I were, in return
+for all she has done for us, to cause any jealousies or quarrels
+between her and her best friend. Oh! that is what I most dread! To
+prevent it, I would--it is not polite to say so--but I would, my dear
+Lady Littleton, even withdraw myself from your society. This very day
+you return to your own house. You were so good as to ask me to go
+often to see you: forgive me if I do not avail myself of this kind
+permission. You will know my reasons; and I hope they are such as you
+will approve of."
+
+A servant came in, to say that her ladyship's carriage was at the
+door.
+
+"One word more before you go, my dear Lady Littleton," said Emilie,
+with a supplicating voice and countenance. "Tell me, I beseech
+you--for you have been her friend from her childhood, and must know
+better than any one living--tell me how I can please Mrs. Somers.
+I begin to be afraid that I shall at last be weary of my fruitless
+efforts, and I dread--above all things I dread--that my affection
+for her should be worn out. How painful it would be to sustain the
+continual weight of obligation without being able to feel the pleasure
+of gratitude!"
+
+Lady Littleton was going to reply, but she was prevented by the sudden
+entrance of Mrs. Somers with her face of wrath.
+
+"So, Lady Littleton, you are actually going, I find!--And I have not
+had one moment of your conversation. May I be allowed--if Mlle. de
+Coulanges has finished her mysteries--to say a few words to you?"
+
+"You will give me leave, I am sure, Emilie," said Lady Littleton, "to
+repeat to Mrs. Somers every word that you have said to me?"
+
+"Yes, every word," said Emilie, blushing, yet speaking with firmness.
+"I have no mysteries--I do not wish to conceal from Mrs. Somers any
+thing that I say or think."
+
+Mrs. Somers seized Lady Littleton's arm, and left the room; but when
+she had entire possession of her friend's ear, she had nothing to say,
+or nothing that she would say, except half sentences, reproaching her
+for not staying longer, and insinuating that Emilie would be the cause
+of their separating for ever.--"Now, as you have her permission, will
+you favour me with a repetition of her last conversation?"
+
+"Not in your present humour, my dear," said Lady Littleton: "this
+is not the happy moment to speak reason to you. Adieu! I give you
+four-and-twenty hours' grace before I declare you a bankrupt in
+temper. You shall hear from me to-morrow; for, on some subjects, I
+have always found it better to write than to speak to you."
+
+Mrs. Somers continued during the remainder of the day in a desperate
+state of ill-humour, which was increased by finding that Mlle. de
+Coulanges could neither stand nor walk. Mrs. Somers was persuaded that
+Emilie, if she would have exerted herself, could have done both, but
+that she preferred exciting the pity of the whole house; and this, all
+circumstances considered, was a proof of total want of generosity and
+gratitude. The next morning, however, she was alarmed by hearing from
+Mrs. Masham, whom she had sent to attend upon Mlle. de Coulanges, that
+her ankle was violently swelled and inflamed.--Just when the full
+tide of her affections was beginning to flow in Emilie's favour, Mrs.
+Somers received the following letter from Lady Littleton:--
+
+    "Enclosed, I have sent you, as well as I can recollect it, every
+    word of the conversation that passed yesterday between Mlle. de
+    Coulanges and me. If I were less anxious for your happiness,
+    and if I had not so high an opinion of the excellence of your
+    disposition, I should wish, my dear friend, to spare both you and
+    myself the pain of speaking and hearing the truth. But I know that
+    I have preserved your affection many years beyond the usual limits
+    of female friendship, by daring to speak to you with perfect
+    sincerity, and by trusting to the justice of your better self.
+    Perhaps you would rather have a compliment to your generosity than
+    to your justice; but in this I shall not indulge you, because I
+    think you already set too high a value upon generosity. It has
+    been the misfortune of your life, my dear friend, to believe that,
+    by making great sacrifices, and conferring great benefits, you
+    could ensure to yourself, in return, affection and gratitude. You
+    mistake both the nature of obligation and the effect which it
+    produces on the human mind. Obligations may command gratitude, but
+    can never ensure love. If the benefit be of a pecuniary nature, it
+    is necessarily attended with a certain sense of humiliation, which
+    destroys the equality of friendship. Of whatever description the
+    favour may be, it becomes burdensome, if gratitude be expected as
+    a tribute, instead of being accepted as the free-will offering
+    of the heart: 'still paying still to owe' is irksome, even to
+    those who have nothing Satanic in their natures. A person who has
+    received a favour is in a defenceless state with respect to a
+    benefactor; and the benefactor who makes an improper use of the
+    power which gratitude gives becomes an oppressor. I know your
+    generous spirit, and I am fully sensible that no one has a more
+    just idea than you have of the delicacy that ought to be used
+    towards those whom you have obliged; but you must permit me to
+    observe, that your practice is not always conformable to your
+    theory. Temper is doubly necessary to those who love, as you do,
+    to confer favours: it is the duty of a benefactress to command her
+    feelings, and to refrain absolutely from every species of direct
+    or indirect reproach; else her kindness becomes only a source
+    of misery; and even from the benevolence of her disposition she
+    derives the means of giving pain.
+
+    "I have said enough; and I know that you will not be offended. The
+    moment your understanding is convinced and your heart touched,
+    all paltry jealousies and petty irritations subside, and you
+    are always capable of acting in a manner worthy of yourself.
+    Adieu!--May you, my dear friend, preserve the affections of one
+    who feels for you, I am convinced, the most sincere gratitude! You
+    will reap a rich harvest, if you do not, with childish impatience,
+    disturb the seeds that you have sown, to examine whether they are
+    growing.
+
+    "Your faithful friend,
+
+    "L. LITTLETON."
+
+This letter had an immediate and strong effect upon the mind of Mrs.
+Somers: she went directly with it open in her hand to Emilie. "Here,"
+said she, "is the letter of a noble-minded woman, who dares to speak
+truth, painful truth, to her best friend. She does me justice in
+being convinced that I shall not be offended; she does me justice
+in believing that an appeal to my candour and generosity cannot be
+in vain, especially when it is made by her voice. Emilie, you shall
+see that I am worthy to have a sincere friend; you shall see that
+I can even command my temper, when I have what, to my own feelings
+and understanding, appears adequate motive. But, my dear, you are
+in pain--let me look at this ankle--I am absolutely afraid to see
+it!--Good Heavens! how it is swelled!--And I fancied, all yesterday,
+that you could have walked upon it!--And I thought you wanted only
+to excite pity!--My poor child!--I have used you barbarously--most
+barbarously!" cried Mrs. Somers, kneeling down beside the sofa. "And
+can you ever forgive me?--Yes! that sweet smile tells me that you
+can."
+
+"All I ask of you," said Emilie, embracing Mrs. Somers, "is to believe
+that I am grateful, and to continue to make me love you as long as I
+live. This must depend upon you more than upon myself."
+
+"I know it, my dear," said Mrs. Somers. "Be satisfied--I will not
+wear out your affections. You have dealt fairly with me. I love you
+for having the courage to speak as you think.--But now that it is all
+over, I must tell you what it was that displeased me--for I hate half
+reconciliations: I will tell you all that passed in my mind."
+
+"Pray do," said Emilie; "for then I shall know how to avoid
+displeasing you another time."
+
+"No danger of that, my dear. You will never make me angry again; for
+I am sure you will now be as frank towards me as I am towards you. It
+was not your adapting that little poem to a French rather than to an
+English air that displeased me--I am not quite so childish as to be
+offended by such a trifle; but I own I did not like your saying that
+you chose it merely to comply with your mother's taste.--And you will
+acknowledge, Emilie, there was a want of sincerity, a want of candour,
+in your affected look of astonishment, when I mentioned M. de Brisac.
+I do not claim your confidence as a right--God forbid!--But if the
+warmest desire for your happiness, the most affectionate sympathy, can
+merit confidence--But I will not say a word that can imply reproach.
+On the contrary, I will only assure you, that I have penetration
+sufficient always to know your wishes, and activity enough to serve
+you effectually, even without being your confidante. I shall this
+night see a friend who is in power--I will speak to him about M. de
+Brisac: I have hopes that his pension from our government may be
+doubled."
+
+"I wish it may, for his sake," said Emilie; "but certainly not for my
+own."
+
+"Oh! Mlle. de Coulanges!--But I have no right to extort confidence. I
+will not, as I said before, utter a syllable that can imply reproach.
+Let me go on with what I was telling you of my intentions. As soon as
+the pension is doubled, I will speak to Mad. de Coulanges about M. de
+Brisac."
+
+"For Heaven's sake, do not!" interrupted Emilie; "for you would do me
+the greatest possible injury. Mamma would then think it a suitable
+match, and she would wish me to marry him; and nothing could make me
+move unhappy than to be under the necessity of acting contrary to my
+duty--of disobeying and displeasing her for ever--or else of uniting
+myself to M. de Brisac, whom I can neither love nor esteem."
+
+"Is it possible," exclaimed Mrs. Somers, with joyful astonishment, "is
+it possible that I have been under a mistake all this time? My dearest
+Emilie! now you are every thing I first thought you! Indeed, I could
+not think with patience of your making such a match; for M. de Brisac
+is a mere nothing--worse than a mere nothing; a coxcomb, and a peevish
+coxcomb."
+
+"And how could you suspect me of loving such a man?" said Emilie.
+
+"I never thought you loved him, but I thought you would marry him.
+French marriages, you know, according to _l'ancien régime_, in which
+you were brought up, were never supposed to be affairs of the heart,
+but mere alliances of interest, pride, or convenience."
+
+"Yes--_des mariages de convenance_," said Emilie. "We have suffered
+terribly by the revolution; but I owe to it one blessing, which,
+putting what mamma has felt out of the question, I should say has
+overbalanced all our losses: I have escaped--what must have been my
+fate in the ancient order of things--_un mariage de convenance_.
+I must tell you how I escaped by a happy misfortune," continued
+Emilie, suddenly recovering her vivacity of manner. "The family of
+M. de Brisac had settled, with mine, that I was to be la Comtesse de
+Brisac--But we lost our property, and M. le comte his memory. Mamma
+was provoked and indignant--I rejoiced. When I saw how shabbily he
+behaved, could I do otherwise than rejoice at having escaped being
+his wife? M. le Comte de Brisac soon lost his hereditary honours and
+possessions--Heaven forgive me for not pitying him! I was only glad
+mamma now agreed with me that we had nothing to regret. I had hoped
+that we should never have heard more of him: but, lo! here he is again
+in my way with a commission in your English army and a pension from
+your generous king, which make him, amongst poor emigrants, a man of
+consequence. And he has taken it into his head to sigh for me, because
+I laugh at him; and he talks of his sentiments!--sentiments!--he who
+has no principles!--"
+
+"My noble-minded Emilie!" cried Mrs. Somers; "I cannot express to you
+the delight I feel at this explanation. How could I be such an idiot
+as not sooner to see the truth! But I was misled by the solicitude
+that Mad. de Coulanges showed about this M. de Brisac; and I foolishly
+concluded that you and your mother were one. On the contrary, no
+two people can be more different, thank Heaven!--I beg your pardon
+for that thanksgiving--I see it distresses you, my dear Emilie--and
+believe me, I never was less disposed to give you pain--I have made
+you suffer too much already, both in mind and body. This terrible
+ankle--"
+
+"It does not give me any pain," said Emilie, "except when I attempt to
+walk; and it is no great misfortune to be obliged to be quiet for a
+few days."
+
+Mrs. Somers' whole soul was now intent upon the means of making her
+young friend amends for all she had suffered: this last conversation
+had raised her to the highest point both of favour and esteem. Mrs.
+Somers was now revolving in her mind a scheme, which she had formed in
+the first moments of her partiality for Emilie--a scheme of marrying
+her to her son. She had often quarrelled with this son; but she
+persuaded herself that Emilie would make him every thing that was
+amiable and respectable, and that she would form an indissoluble bond
+of family union and felicity. "Then," said she to herself, "Emilie
+will certainly be established according to her mother's satisfaction.
+M. de Brisac cannot possibly stand in the way here; for my son has
+name and fortune, and every thing that Mad. de Coulanges can desire."
+
+Mrs. Somers wrote immediately to summon her son home. In the mean
+time, delighted with this new and grand project, and thinking herself
+sure of success, she neglected, according to her usual custom, the
+"little courtesies of life;" and all Lady Littleton's excellent
+observations upon the nature of gratitude, and the effect produced on
+the mind by obligations, were entirely obliterated from her memory.
+
+Emilie's sprained ankle confined her to the house for some weeks; both
+Mad. de Coulanges and Mrs. Somers began by offering in the most eager
+manner, in competition with each other, to stay at home every evening
+to keep her company; but she found that she could not accept of the
+offer of one without offending the other; she knew that her mother
+would have _les vapeurs noirs_, if she were not in _society_; and
+as she had reason to apprehend that Mrs. Somers could not, with the
+best intentions possible, remain three hours alone, with even a
+dear friend, without finding or making some subject of quarrel, she
+wisely declined all these kind offers. In fact, these were _trifling
+sacrifices_, which it would not have suited Mrs. Somers' temper to
+make: for there was no glory to be gained by them. She regularly came
+every evening, as soon as she was dressed, to pity Emilie--to repeat
+her wish that she might be allowed to stay at home--then to step into
+her carriage, and drive away to spend four hours in company which she
+professed to hate.
+
+Lady Littleton made no complimentary speeches, but every day she
+contrived to spend some time with Emilie; and, by a thousand small but
+kind instances of attention, which asked neither for admiration nor
+gratitude, she contributed to Emilie's daily happiness.
+
+This ready sympathy, and this promptitude to oblige in trifles, became
+extremely agreeable to Mlle. de Coulanges: perhaps from the contrast
+with Mrs. Somers' defects, Lady Littleton's manners pleased her
+peculiarly. She was under no fear of giving offence, so that she could
+speak her sentiments or express her feelings without constraint: and,
+in short, she enjoyed in this lady's society, a degree of tranquillity
+of mind and freedom to which she had long been a stranger. Lady
+Littleton had employed her excellent understanding in studying
+the minute circumstances which tend to make people, of different
+characters and tempers, agree and live happily together; and she
+understood and practised so successfully all the _honest_ arts of
+pleasing, that she rendered herself the centre of union to a large
+circle of relations, many of whom she had converted into friends. This
+she had accomplished without any violent effort, without making any
+splendid sacrifices, but with that calm, gentle, persevering kindness
+of temper, which, when united to good sense, forms the real happiness
+of domestic life, and the true perfection of the female character.
+Those who have not traced the causes of family quarrels would not
+readily guess from what slight circumstances they often originate:
+they arise more frequently from small defects in temper than from
+material faults of character. People who would perhaps sacrifice their
+fortunes or lives for each other cannot, at certain moments, give up
+their will, or command their humour in the slightest degree.
+
+Whilst Emilie was confined by her sprained ankle, she employed herself
+in embroidering and painting various trifles, which she intended
+to offer as _souvenirs_ to her English friends. Amongst these, the
+prettiest was one which she called _the watch of Flora_.[1] It
+was a dial plate for a pendule, on which the hours were marked
+by flowers--by those flowers which open or close their petals at
+particular times of the day. "Linnæus has enumerated forty-six flowers
+which possess this kind of sensibility; and has marked," as he says,
+"their respective hours of rising and setting." From these forty-six
+Emilie wished to select the most beautiful: she had some difficulty in
+finding such as would suit her purpose, especially as the observations
+made in the botanic gardens of Upsal could not exactly agree with our
+climate. She sometimes applied to Mrs. Somers for assistance; but Mrs.
+Somers repeatedly forgot to borrow for her the botanical books which
+she wanted: this was too small a service for her to remember. She
+was provoked at last by Emilie's reiterated requests, and vexed by
+her own forgetfulness; so that Mlle. de Coulanges at last determined
+not to run the risk of offending, and she reluctantly laid aside her
+dial-plate.
+
+[Footnote 1: See Botanic Garden, canto 2.]
+
+Young people of vivacious and inventive tempers, who know what it is
+to be eagerly intent upon some favourite little project, will give
+Emilie due credit for her forbearance. Lady Littleton, though not a
+young person, could so far sympathize in the pursuits of youth, as to
+feel for Emilie's disappointment. "No," said she, "you must not lay
+aside your watch of Flora; perhaps I can help you to what you want."
+She was indefatigable in the search of books and flowers; and, by
+assisting her in the pursuit of this slight object, she not only
+enabled her to spend many happy hours, but was of the most essential
+service to Emilie. It happened, that one morning, when Lady Littleton
+went to Kew Gardens to search in the hot-houses for some of the
+flowers, and to ascertain their hours of closing, she met with a
+French botanist, who had just arrived from Paris, who came to examine
+the arrangement of Kew Gardens, and to compare it with that of
+the Jardin des Plantes. He paid some deserved compliments to the
+superiority of Kew Gardens; and, with the ease of a Frenchman, he
+entered into conversation with Lady Littleton. As he inquired for
+several French emigrants, she mentioned the name of Mad. de Coulanges,
+and asked whether he knew to whom the property of her family now
+belonged. He said, "that it was still in the possession of that
+_scelerat_ of a steward, who had, by his informations, brought his
+excellent master, le Comte de Coulanges, to the guillotine. But,"
+added the botanist, "if you, madam, are acquainted with any of the
+family, will you give them notice that this wretch is near his end;
+that he has, within a few weeks, had two strokes of apoplexy; and that
+his eldest son by no means resembles him; but is a worthy young man,
+who, to my certain knowledge, is shocked at his father's crimes, and
+who might be prevailed upon, by a reasonable consideration, to restore
+to the family, to whom it originally belonged, the property that
+has been seized. I have more than once, even in the most dangerous
+times, heard him (in confidence) express the strongest attachment to
+the descendant of the good master, who loaded him in his childhood
+with favours. These sentiments he has been, of course, obliged to
+dissemble, and to profess directly the contrary principles: it can
+only be by such means that he can gain possession of the estate, which
+he wishes to restore to the rightful owners. He passes for as great
+a scoundrel as his father: this is not the least of his merits. But,
+madam, you may depend upon the correctness of my information, and of
+my knowledge of his character. I was once, as a man of science, under
+obligation to the late Comte de Coulanges, who gave me the use of his
+library; and most happy should I think myself, if I could by any means
+be instrumental in restoring his descendants to the possession of that
+library."
+
+There was such an air of truth and frankness in the countenance and
+manner of this gentleman, that, notwithstanding the extraordinary
+nature of his information, and the still more extraordinary facility
+with which it was communicated, Lady Littleton could not help
+believing him. He gave her ladyship his address; told her that he
+should return to Paris in a few days; and that he should be happy
+if he could be made, in any manner, useful to Mad. de Coulanges.
+Impatient to impart all this good news to her friends, Lady Littleton
+hastened to Mrs. Somers'; but just as she put her hand on the lock of
+Emilie's door, she recollected Mrs. Somers, and determined to tell
+her the first, that she might have the pleasure of communicating the
+joyful tidings. From her knowledge of the temper of her friend, Lady
+Littleton thought that this would be peculiarly gratifying to her;
+but, contrary to all rational expectation, Mrs. Somers heard the news
+with an air of extreme mortification, which soon turned into anger.
+She got up and walked about the room, whilst Lady Littleton was
+speaking; and, as soon as she had finished her story, exclaimed, "Was
+there ever any thing so provoking!"
+
+She continued walking, deep in reverie, whilst Lady Littleton sat
+looking at her in amazement. Mrs. Somers having once formed the
+_generous_ scheme of enriching Emilie by a marriage with her son, was
+actually disappointed to find that there was a probability that Mlle.
+de Coulanges should recover a fortune which would make her more than a
+suitable match for Mr. Somers. There was another circumstance that was
+still more provoking--this property was likely to be recovered without
+the assistance of Mrs. Somers. There are people who would rather that
+their best friends should miss a piece of good fortune than that they
+should obtain it without their intervention. Mrs. Somers at length
+quieted her own mind by the idea that all Lady Littleton had heard
+might have no foundation in truth.
+
+"I am surprised, my dear friend, that a person of your excellent
+judgment can, for an instant, believe such a strange story as this,"
+said Mrs. Somers. "I assure you, I do not give the slightest credit to
+it; and, in my opinion, it would be much better not to say one word
+about the matter, either to Emilie or Mad. de Coulanges: it will only
+fill their minds with false and absurd hopes. Mad. de Coulanges will
+torment herself and me to death with conjectures and exclamations; and
+we shall hear of nothing but the Hotel de Coulanges, and the Chateau
+de Coulanges, from morning till night; and, after all, I am convinced
+she will never see either of them again."
+
+To this assertion, which Mrs. Somers could support only by
+repeating that it was her conviction--that it was her unalterable
+conviction--Lady Littleton simply replied, that it would be improper
+not to mention what had happened to Mad. de Coulanges, because this
+would deprive her of an opportunity of judging and acting for herself
+in her own affairs. "This French gentleman has offered to carry
+letters, or to do her any service in his power; and we should not be
+justifiable in concealing this: the information may be false, but of
+that Mad. de Coulanges should at least have an opportunity of judging;
+she should see this botanist, and she will recollect whether what he
+says of the count, and his allowing him the use of his library, be
+true or false: from these circumstances we may obtain some farther
+reason to believe or disbelieve him. I should be sorry to excite hopes
+which must end in disappointment; but the chance of good, in this
+case, appears to me far greater than the chance of evil."
+
+"Very well, my dear Lady Littleton," interrupted Mrs. Somers, "you
+will follow your judgment, and I must be allowed to follow mine,
+though I make no doubt that yours is superior. Manage this business as
+you please: I will have nothing to do with it. It is your opinion that
+Mad. de Coulanges and her daughter should hear this wonderfully fine
+story; therefore I beg you will be the relater--I must be excused--for
+my part, I can't give any credit to it--no, not the slightest. But
+your judgment is better than mine, Lady Littleton--you will act as you
+think proper, and manage the whole business yourself--I am sure I wish
+you success with all my heart."
+
+Lady Littleton, by a mixture of firmness and gentleness in her manner,
+so far worked upon the temper of Mrs. Somers, as to prevail upon her
+to believe that the management of the business was not her object; and
+she even persuaded Mrs. Somers to be present when the intelligence
+was communicated to Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie. She could not,
+however, forbear repeating, that she did not believe the story:--this
+incredulity afforded her a plausible pretext for not sympathizing in
+the general joy. Mad. de Coulanges was alternately in ecstasy and in
+despair, as she listened to Lady Littleton or to Mrs. Somers: her
+exclamations would have been much less frequent and violent, if Mrs.
+Somers had not provoked them, by mixing with her hopes a large portion
+of fear. The next day, when she saw the French gentleman, her hopes
+were predominant: for she recollected perfectly having seen this
+gentleman, in former times, at the Hotel de Coulanges; she knew that
+he was _un savant_; and that he had, before the revolution, the
+reputation of being a very worthy man. Mad. de Coulanges, by Lady
+Littleton's advice, determined, however, to be cautious in what she
+wrote to send to France by this gentleman. Emilie took the letters to
+Mrs. Somers, and requested her opinion; but she declined giving any.
+
+"I have nothing to do with the business, Mlle. de Coulanges," said
+she; "you will be guided by the opinion of my Lady Littleton."
+
+Emilie saw that it was in vain to expostulate; she retired in silence,
+much embarrassed as to the answer which she was to give to her mother,
+who was waiting to hear the opinion of Mrs. Somers. Mad. de Coulanges,
+impatient with Emilie, for bringing her only a reference to Lady
+Littleton's opinion, went herself, with what she thought the most
+amiable politeness, to solicit the advice of Mrs. Somers; but she was
+astonished, and absolutely shocked, by the coldness and want of good
+breeding with which this lady persisted in a refusal to have any thing
+to do with the business, or even to read the letters which waited
+for her judgment. The countess opened her large eyes to their utmost
+orbicular extent; and, after a moment's _silence_, the strongest
+possible expression that she could give of amazement, she also
+retired, and returned to Emilie, to demand from her an explanation of
+what she could not understand. The ill-humour of Mrs. Somers, now that
+Mad. de Coulanges was wakened to the perception of it, was not, as
+it had been to poor Emilie, a subject of continual anxiety and pain,
+but merely matter of astonishment and curiosity. She looked upon
+Mrs. Somers as an English _oddity_, as a _lusus naturæ_; and she
+alternately asked Emilie to account for these strange appearances, or
+shrugged up her shoulders, and submitted to the impossibility of a
+Frenchwoman's ever understanding such _extravagances_.
+
+"Ah que c'est bizarre! Mais, mon enfant, expliquez moi done tout
+ça--Mais ça ne s'explique point--Certes c'est une Anglaise qui sçait
+donner, mais qui ne sçait pas vivre.--Voltaire s'y connaissait mieux
+que moi apparemment--et heureusement."
+
+Content with this easy method of settling things, Mad. de Coulanges
+sealed and despatched her letters, appealed no more to Mrs. Somers
+for advice, and, when she saw any extraordinary signs of displeasure,
+repeated to herself--"Ah que c'est bizarre!" And this phrase was
+for some time a quieting charm. But as the anxiety of the countess
+increased, at the time when she expected to receive the decisive
+answer from her steward's son, she talked with incessant and
+uncontrollable volubility of her hopes and fears--her conjectures
+and calculations--and of the Chateau and Hotel de Coulanges; and she
+could not endure to see that Mrs. Somers heard all this with affected
+coldness or real impatience.
+
+"How is this possible, Emilie?" said she. "Here is a woman who would
+give me half her fortune, and who yet seems to wish that I should not
+recover the whole of mine! Here is a woman who would move heaven and
+earth to serve me in her own way; but who, nevertheless, will not
+give me either a word of advice or a look of sympathy, in the most
+important affair and the most anxious moment of my life! But this is
+more than _bizarre_--this is intolerably provoking. For my part, I
+would rather a friend would deny me any thing than sympathy: without
+sympathy, there is no society--there is no living--there is no
+talking. I begin to feel my obligations a burden; and, positively,
+with the first money I receive from my estates, I will relieve
+myself from my pecuniary debt to this generous but incomprehensible
+Englishwoman."
+
+Every day Emilie dreaded the arrival of the post, when her mother
+asked, "Are there any letters from Paris?"--Constantly the answer
+was--"No."--Mrs. Somers' look was triumphant; and Mad. de Coulanges
+applied regularly to her smelling-bottle or her snuff-box to conceal
+her emotion, which Mrs. Somers increased by indirect reflections upon
+the absurdity of those who listen to idle reports, and build castles
+in the air. Having set her opinion in opposition to Lady Littleton's,
+she supported it with a degree of obstinacy, and even acrimony, which
+made her often transgress the bounds of that politeness which she had
+formerly maintained in all her differences with the comtesse.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges could no longer consider her humour as merely
+_bizarre_, she found it _insupportable_; and Mrs. Somers appeared to
+her totally changed, and absolutely odious, now that she was roused by
+her own sufferings to the perception of those evils which Emilie had
+long borne with all the firmness of principle, and all the philosophy
+of gratitude. Not a day passed without her complaining to Emilie of
+some _grossièreté_ from Mrs. Somers. Mad. de Coulanges suffered so
+much from irritation and anxiety, that her _vapeurs noirs_ returned
+with tenfold violence. Emilie had loved Mrs. Somers, even when most
+unreasonable towards herself, as long as she behaved with kindness to
+her mother; but now that, instead of a source of pleasure, she became
+the hourly cause of pain to Mad. de Coulanges, Emilie's affection
+could no farther go; and she really began to dislike this lady--to
+dread to see her come into the room--and to tremble at hearing her
+voice. Emilie could judge only by what she saw; and she could not
+divine that Mrs. Somers was occupied, all this time, with the generous
+scheme of marrying her to her son and heir, and of settling upon her
+a large fortune; nor could she guess, that all the ill-humour in Mrs.
+Somers originated in the fear that her friends should be made either
+rich or happy without her assistance. Her son's delaying to return
+home, according to her mandate, had disappointed and vexed her
+extremely. Every day, when the post came in, she inquired for letters
+with almost as much eagerness as Mad. de Coulanges. At length a letter
+came from Mr. Somers, to inform his impatient mother that he should
+certainly be in town the beginning of the ensuing week. Delighted by
+this news, she could not refrain from the temptation of opening her
+whole mind to Emilie; though she had previously resolved not to give
+the slightest intimation of her scheme to any one, not even to Lady
+Littleton, till a definitive answer had been received from Paris,
+respecting the fortune of Mad. de Coulanges. Often, when Mrs.
+Somers was full of some magnanimous design, the merest trifle that
+interrupted the full display of her generosity threw her into a
+passion, even with those whom she was going to serve. So it happened
+in the present instance. She went, with her open letter in her hand,
+to the countess's apartment, where unluckily she found M. de Brisac,
+who was going to read the French newspapers to madame. Mrs. Somers sat
+down beside Emilie, who was painting the last flower of her watch of
+Flora. Mrs. Somers wrote on a slip of paper, "Don't ask M. de Brisac
+to read the papers, for I want to speak to you." She threw down the
+note before Emilie, who was so intent upon what she was about, that
+she did not immediately see it--Mrs. Somers touched her elbow--Emilie
+started, and let fall her brush, which made a blot upon her
+dial-plate.
+
+"Oh! what a pity!--Just as I had finished my work," cried Emilie, "I
+have spoiled it!"
+
+M. de Brisac laid down the newspaper to pour forth compliments of
+condolence.--Mrs. Somers tore the piece of paper as he approached
+the table, and said, with some asperity, "One would think this was a
+matter of life and death, by the terms in which it is deplored."
+
+M. de Brisac, who stood so that Mrs. Somers could not see him,
+shrugged his shoulders, and looked at Mad. de Coulanges, who answered
+him by another look, that plainly said, "This is English politeness!"
+
+Emilie, who saw that her mother was displeased, endeavoured to change
+the course of her thoughts, by begging M. de Brisac to go on with what
+he was reading from the French papers. This was a fresh provocation to
+Mrs. Somers, who forgot that Emilie had not read the words on the slip
+of paper which had been torn; and consequently could not know all Mrs.
+Somers' impatience for his departure. M. de Brisac read, in what this
+lady called his _unemphatic French tone_, paragraph after paragraph,
+and column after column, whilst her anxiety to have him go every
+moment increased. She moulded her son's letter into all manner of
+shapes as she sat in penance. To complete her misfortunes, something
+in the paper put Mad. de Coulanges in mind of former times; and she
+began a long history of the destruction of some fine old tapestry
+hangings in the Chateau de Coulanges, at the beginning of the
+Revolution: this led to endless melancholy reflections; and at length
+tears began to flow from the fine eyes of the countess.
+
+Just at this instant a butterfly flew into the room, and passed by
+Mad. de Coulanges, who was sitting near the open window. "Oh! the
+beautiful butterfly!" cried she, starting up to catch it. "Did you
+ever see such a charming creature? Catch it, M. de Brisac!--Catch it,
+Emilie!--Catch it, Mrs. Somers!"
+
+With the tears yet upon her cheeks, Mad. de Coulanges began the
+chase, and M. de Brisac followed, beating the air with his perfumed
+handkerchief, and the butterfly fluttered round the table at which
+Emilie was standing.
+
+"Eh! M. de Brisac, catch it!--Catch it, Emilie!" repeated her
+mother.--"Catch it, Mrs. Somers, for the love of Heaven!"
+
+"_For the love of Heaven_!" repeated Mrs. Somers, who, immovably
+grave, and sullenly indignant, kept aloof during this chase.
+
+"Ah! pour le coup, papillon, je te tiens!" cried la comtesse, and with
+eager joy she covered it with a glass, as it lighted on the table.
+
+"Mlle. de Coulanges," cried Mrs. Somers, "I acknowledge, now, that I
+was wrong in my criticism of Caroline de Lichteld. I blamed the author
+for representing Caroline, at fifteen, or just when she is going to be
+married, as running after butterflies. I said that, at that age, it
+was too frivolous--out of drawing--out of nature. But I should have
+said only, that it was out of _English nature_.--I stand corrected."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges and M. de Brisac again interchanged looks, which
+expressed "_Est-il possible_!" And la comtesse then, with an unusual
+degree of deliberation and dignity in her manner, walked out of the
+room. Emilie, who saw that her mother was extremely offended, was much
+embarrassed--she went on washing the blot out of her drawing. M. de
+Brisac stood silently looking over her, and Mrs. Somers opposite to
+him, wishing him fairly at the antipodes. M. de Brisac, to break the
+silence, which seemed to him as if it never would be broken, asked
+Mlle. de Coulanges if she had ever seen the stadtholder's fine
+collection of butterflies, and if she did not admire them extremely?
+No, she never had; but she said that she admired extremely the
+generosity the stadtholder had shown in sacrificing, not only his fine
+collection of butterflies, but his most valuable pictures, to save the
+lives of the poor French emigrants, who were under his protection.
+
+At the sound of the word generosity, Mrs. Somers became attentive; and
+Emilie was in hopes that she would recover her temper, and apologize
+to her mother: but at this moment a servant came to tell Mlle. de
+Coulanges that la comtesse wished to speak to her immediately. She
+found her mother in no humour to receive any apology, even if it had
+been offered: nothing could have hurt Mad. de Coulanges more than the
+imputation of being frivolous.
+
+"Frivole!--frivole!--moi frivole!" she repeated, as soon as Emilie
+entered the room. "My dear Emilie! I would not live with this
+Mrs. Somers for the rest of my days, were she to offer me the Pitt
+diamond, or the whole mines of Golconda!--Bon Dieu!--neither money
+nor diamonds, after all, can pay for the want of kindness and
+politeness!--There is Lady Littleton, who has never done us any
+favour, but that of showing us attention and sympathy; I protest I
+love her a million of times better than I can love Mrs. Somers, to
+whom we owe so much. It is in vain, Emilie, to remind me that she is
+our benefactress. I have said that over and over to myself, till I am
+tired, and till I have absolutely lost all sense of the meaning of the
+word. Bitterly do I repent having accepted of such obligations from
+this strange woman; for, as to the idea of regaining our estate, and
+paying my debt to her, I have given up all hopes of it. You see that
+we have no letters from France. I am quite tired out. I am convinced
+that we shall never have any good news from Paris. And I cannot, I
+will not, remain longer in this house. Would you have me submit to be
+treated with disrespect? Mrs. Somers has affronted me before M. de
+Brisac, in a manner that I cannot, that I ought not, to endure--that
+you, Emilie, ought not to wish me to endure. I positively will
+not live upon the bounty of Mrs. Somers. There is but one way of
+extricating ourselves. M. de Brisac--Why do you turn pale, child?--M.
+de Brisac has this morning made me a proposal for you, and the best
+thing we can possibly do is to accept of it."
+
+"The best!--Pray don't say the best!" cried Emilie. "Ah! dear mamma,
+for me the worst! Let me beseech you not to sacrifice my happiness for
+ever by such a marriage!"
+
+"And what other can you expect, Emilie, in your present
+circumstances?"
+
+"None," said Emilie.
+
+"And here is an establishment--at least an independence for you--and
+you call it sacrificing your happiness for ever to accept of it!"
+
+"Yes," said Emilie; "because it is offered to me by one whom I can
+neither love nor esteem. Dearest mamma! can you forget all his former
+meanness of conduct?"
+
+"His present behaviour makes amends for the past," said Mad. de
+Coulanges, "and entitles him to my esteem and to yours, and that is
+sufficient. As to love--well educated girls do not marry for love."
+
+"But they ought not to marry without feeling love, should they?" said
+Emilie.
+
+"Emilie! Emilie!" said her mother, "these are strange ideas that have
+come into the heads of young women since the Revolution. If you had
+remained safe in your convent, I should have heard none of this
+nonsense."
+
+"Perhaps not, mamma," said Emilie, with a deep sigh. "But should I
+have been happier?"
+
+"A fine question, truly!--How can I tell? But this I can ask you--How
+can any girl expect to be happy, who abandons the principles in which
+she was bred up, and forgets her duty to the mother by whom she has
+been educated--the mother, whose pride, whose delight, whose darling,
+she has ever been? Oh, Emilie! this is to me worse than all I have
+ever suffered!"
+
+Mad. de Coulanges burst into a passion of tears, and Emilie stood
+looking at her in silent despair.
+
+"Emilie, you cannot deceive me," cried her mother; "you cannot pretend
+that it is simply your want of esteem for M. de Brisac which renders
+you thus obstinately averse to the match. You are in love with another
+person."
+
+"Not in love," said Emilie, in a faltering voice.
+
+"You cannot deceive me, Emilie--remember all you said to me about the
+stranger who was our fellow prisoner at the Abbaye. You cannot deny
+this, Emilie."
+
+"Nor do I, dear mamma," said Emilie. "I _cannot_ deceive you, indeed
+I _would_ not; and the best proof that I do not wish to deceive
+you--that I never attempted it--is, that I told you all I thought and
+felt about that stranger. I told you that his honourable, brave,
+and generous conduct towards us, when we were in distress, made an
+impression upon my heart--that I preferred him to any person I had
+ever seen--and I told you, my dear mamma, that--"
+
+"You told me too much," interrupted Mad. de Coulanges; "more than
+I wished to hear--more than I will have repeated, Emilie. This is
+romance and nonsense. The man, whoever he was--and Heaven knows who
+he was!--behaved very well, and was a very agreeable person: but what
+then? are you ever likely to see him again? Do you even know his
+birth--his name--his country--or any thing about him, but that he
+was brave and generous?--So are fifty other men, five hundred, five
+thousand, five million, I hope. But is this any reason that you should
+refuse to marry M. de Brisac? Henry the Fourth was brave and generous
+two hundred years ago. That is as much to the purpose. You have as
+much chance of establishing yourself, if you wait for Henry the Fourth
+to come to life again, as if you wait for this nameless nobody of a
+hero--who is perhaps married, after all--who knows!--Really, Emilie,
+this is too absurd!"
+
+"But, dear mamma, I cannot marry one man and love another--love I
+did not quite mean to say. But whilst I prefer another, I cannot, in
+honour, marry M. de Brisac."
+
+"Honour!--Love!--But in France, in my time, who ever heard of a
+young lady's being in love before she was married? You astonish, you
+frighten, you shock me, child! Recollect yourself, Emilie! Misfortune
+may have deprived you of the vast possessions to which you are
+heiress; but do not, therefore, degrade yourself and me by forgetting
+your principles, and all that the representative of the house of
+Coulanges ought to remember. And as for myself--have I no claim upon
+your affections, Emilie?--have not I been a fond mother?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Emilie, melting into tears. "Of your kindness I
+think more than of any thing else!--more than of the whole house of
+Coulanges!"
+
+"Do not let me see you in tears, child!" said Mad. de Coulanges, moved
+by Emilie's grief. "Your tears hurt my nerves more even than Mrs.
+Somers' _grossièreté_. You must blame Mrs. Somers, not me, for all
+this--her temper drives me to it--I cannot live with her. We have no
+alternative. Emilie, my sweet child! make me happy!--I am miserable in
+this house. Hitherto you have ever been the best of daughters, and you
+shall find me the most indulgent of mothers. One whole month I will
+give you to change your mind, and recollect your duty. At the end
+of that time, I must see you Mad. de Brisac, and in a house of your
+own.--In the house of Mrs. Somers I will not, I cannot longer remain."
+
+Poor Emilie was glad of the reprieve of one month. She retired from
+her mother's presence in silent anguish, and hastened to her own
+apartment, that she might give way to her grief. There she found Mrs.
+Somers waiting for her, seated in an arm-chair, with an open letter in
+her hand.
+
+"Why do you start, Emilie? You look as if you were sorry to find me
+here," cried Mrs. Somers--"IF THAT be the case, Mlle. de Coulanges--"
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Somers! do not begin to quarrel with me at this moment, for
+I shall not be able to bear it--I am sufficiently unhappy already!"
+said Emilie.
+
+"I am extremely sorry that any thing should make you unhappy, Emilie,"
+said Mrs. Somers; "but I think that you had never less reason than at
+this moment to suspect me of an intention of quarrelling with you--I
+came here with a very different design. May I know the cause of your
+distress?"
+
+Emilie hesitated, for she did not know how to explain the cause
+without imputing blame either to Mrs. Somers or to her mother--she
+could only say--"_M. de Brisac_--"
+
+"What!" cried Mrs. Somers, "your mother wants you to marry him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Immediately?"
+
+"In one month."
+
+"And you have consented?"
+
+"No--But--"
+
+"_But_--Good Heavens! Emilie, what weakness of mind there is in that
+_but_--"
+
+"Is it weakness of mind to fear to disobey my mother--to dread to
+offend her for ever--to render her unhappy--and to deprive her,
+perhaps, even of the means of subsistence?"
+
+"_The means of subsistence_! my dear. This phrase, you know, can only
+be a figure of rhetoric," said Mrs. Somers. "Your refusing M. de
+Brisac cannot deprive your mother of the means of subsistence. In the
+first place, she expects to recover her property in France."
+
+"No," said Emilie; "she has given up these hopes--you have persuaded
+her that they are vain."
+
+"Indeed I think them so. But still you must know, my dear, that your
+mother can never be in want of the means of subsistence, nor any
+of the conveniences, and, I may add, luxuries of life, whilst I am
+alive."
+
+Emilie sighed; and when Mrs. Somers urged her more closely, she said,
+"Mamma has not, till lately, been accustomed to live on the bounty of
+others; the sense of dependence produces many painful feelings, and
+renders people more susceptible than perhaps they would be, were they
+on terms of equality."
+
+"To what does all this tend, my dear?" interrupted Mrs. Somers. "Is
+Mad. de Coulanges offended with me?--Is she tired of living with
+me?--Does she wish to quit my house?--And where does she intend to
+go?--Oh! that is a question that I need not ask!--Yes, yes--I have
+long foreseen it--you have arranged it admirably--you go to Lady
+Littleton, I presume?"
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"To M. de Brisac?"
+
+"Mamma wishes to go--"
+
+"Then to M. de Brisac, for Heaven's sake, let her go," cried Mrs.
+Somers, bursting into a fit of laughter, which astonished Emilie
+beyond measure. "To M. de Brisac let her go--'tis the best thing she
+can possibly do, my dear; and seriously to tell you the truth, I have
+always thought it would be an excellent match. Since she is so much
+prepossessed in his favour, can she do better than marry him? and, as
+he is so much attached to the house of Coulanges, when he cannot have
+the daughter, can he do better than marry the mother?--Your mother
+does not look too old for him, when she is well rouged; and I am sure,
+if she heard me say so, she would forgive me all the rest--butterfly,
+frivolity, and all inclusive. Permit me, Emilie, to laugh."
+
+"I cannot permit any body to laugh at mamma," said Emilie; "and Mrs.
+Somers is the last person whom I should have supposed would have been
+inclined to laugh, when I told her that I was really unhappy."
+
+"My dear Emilie, I forgive you for being angry, because I never saw
+you angry before; and that is more than you can say for me. You do me
+justice, however, by supposing that I should be the last person to
+laugh when you are in woe, unless I thought--unless I was sure--that I
+could remove the cause, and make you completely happy."
+
+"That, I fear, is impossible," said Emilie: "for mamma's pride and her
+feelings have been so much hurt, that I do not think any apology would
+now calm her mind."
+
+"Apology!--I am not in the least inclined to make any. Can I tell Mad.
+de Coulanges that I do not think her frivolous?--Impossible, indeed,
+my dear! I will do any thing else to oblige you. But I have as much
+pride, and as much feeling, in my own way, as any of the house of
+Coulanges: and if, after all I have done, madame can quarrel with
+me about a butterfly, I must say, not only that she is the most
+frivolous, but the most ungrateful woman upon earth; and, as she
+desires to quit my house, far from attempting to detain her, I can
+only wish that she may accomplish her purpose as soon as possible--as
+soon as it may suit her own convenience. As for you, Emilie, I do not
+suspect you of the ingratitude of wishing to leave me--I can make
+distinctions, even when I have most reason to be angry. I do not blame
+you, my dear--I do not ever ask you to blame your mother. I respect
+your filial piety--I am sure you must think her to blame, but I do not
+desire you to say so. Could any thing be more barbarously selfish than
+the plan of marrying _you_ to this M. de Brisac, that _she_ might have
+an establishment more to her taste than my house has been able to
+afford?"
+
+Emilie attempted, but in vain, to say a few words for her mother. Mrs.
+Somers ran on with her own thoughts.
+
+"And at what a time, at what a cruel time for me, did Mad. de
+Coulanges choose to express her desire to leave my house--at the
+moment when my whole soul was intent upon a scheme for the happiness
+of her daughter! Yes, Emilie, for your happiness!--and, my dear, your
+mother's conduct shall change nothing in my views. You I have always
+found uniformly kind, gentle, grateful--I will say no more--I have
+found in you, Emilie, real magnanimity. I have tried your temper
+much--sometimes too much--but I have always found you proof against
+these petty trials. Your character is suited to mine. I love you, as
+if you were my daughter, and I wish you to be my daughter.--Now you
+know my whole mind, Emilie. My son--my _eldest_ son, I should with
+emphasis say, if I were speaking to Mad. de Coulanges--will be here in
+a few days: read this letter. How happy I shall be if you find him--or
+if you will make him--such as you can entirely approve and love! You
+will have power over him--your influence will do what his mother's
+never could accomplish. But whatever reasons I may have to complain of
+him, this is not the time to state them--you will connect him with me.
+At all events, he is a man of honour and a gentleman; and as he is
+not, thank Heaven! under the debasing necessity of considering fortune
+in the choice of a wife, he is, at least in this respect, worthy of my
+dear and high-minded Emilie."
+
+Mrs. Somers paused, and fixed her eyes eagerly on Emilie, impatient
+for her answer, and already half provoked by not seeing the sudden
+transition of countenance which she had pictured in her imagination.
+With a mixture of dignity and affectionate gratitude in her manner,
+Emilie was beginning to thank Mrs. Somers for the generous kindness
+of her intention; but this susceptible lady interrupted her, and
+exclaimed, "Spare me your thanks, Mlle. de Coulanges, and tell me at
+once what is passing in your mind; for something very extraordinary is
+certainly passing there, which I cannot comprehend. Surely you cannot
+for a moment imagine that your mother will insist upon your now
+accepting of M. de Brisac; or, if she does, surely you would not have
+the weakness to yield. I must have some proof of strength of mind from
+my friends. You must judge for yourself, Emilie, or you are not the
+person I take you for. You will have full opportunity of judging in
+a few days. Will you promise me that you will decide entirely for
+yourself, and that you will keep your mind unbiassed? Will you promise
+me this? And will you speak, at all events, my dear, that I may
+understand you?"
+
+Emilie, who saw that even before she spoke Mrs. Somers was on the
+brink of anger, trembled at the idea of confessing the truth--that her
+heart was already biassed in favour of another: she had, however, the
+courage to explain to her all that passed in her mind. Mrs. Somers
+heard her with inexpressible disappointment. She was silent for some
+minutes. At last she said, in a voice of constrained passion, "Mlle.
+de Coulanges, I have only one question to ask of you--you will reflect
+before you answer it, because on your reply depends the continuance
+or utter dissolution of our friendship--do you, or do you not, think
+proper to refuse my son before you have seen him?"
+
+"Before I have seen Mr. Somers, it surely can be no affront to you
+or to him," said Emilie, "to decline an offer that I cannot accept,
+especially when I give as my reason, that my mind is prepossessed in
+favour of another. With that prepossession, I cannot unite myself to
+your son: I can only express to you my gratitude--my most sincere
+gratitude--for your kind and generous intentions, and my hopes that he
+will find, amongst his own countrywomen, one more suited to him than I
+can be. His fortune is far above--"
+
+"Say no more, I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges--I asked only for a simple
+answer to a plain question. You refuse my son--you refuse to be my
+daughter. I am satisfied--perfectly satisfied. I suppose you have
+arranged to go to Lady Littleton's. I heartily hope that she may be
+able to make her house more agreeable to you than I could render mine.
+Shake hands, Mlle. de Coulanges. You have my best wishes for your
+health and happiness--Here we part."
+
+"Oh! do not let us part in anger!" said Emilie.
+
+"In anger!--not in the least--I never was cooler in my life. You have
+completely cooled me--you have shown me the folly of that warmth of
+friendship which can meet with no return."
+
+"Would it be a suitable return for your warm friendship to deceive
+your son?" said Emilie.
+
+"To deceive me, I think still less suitable!" cried Mrs. Somers.
+
+"And how have I deceived you?"
+
+"You know best. Why was I kept in ignorance till the last moment? Why
+did you never confide your thoughts to me, Emilie? Why did you never
+till now say one word to me of this strange attachment?"
+
+"There was no necessity for speaking till now," said Emilie. "It is a
+subject I never named to any one except to mamma--a subject on which I
+did not think it right to speak to any one but to a parent."
+
+"Your notions of right and wrong, ma'am, differ widely from mine--we
+are not fit to live together. I have no idea of a friend's
+concealing any thing from me: without entire confidence, there is no
+friendship--at least no friendship with me. Pray no tears. I am not
+fond of _scenes_. Nobody ever is that feels much.--Adieu!--Adieu!"
+
+Mrs. Somers hurried out of the room, repeating, "I'll write
+directly--this instant--to Lady Littleton. Mad. de Coulanges shall not
+be kept prisoner in _my_ house." Emilie stood motionless.
+
+In a few minutes Mrs. Somers returned with an unfolded letter, which
+she put into Emilie's passive hand. "Read it, ma'am, I beg--read it. I
+do every thing openly--every thing handsomely, I hope--whatever may be
+my faults."
+
+The letter was written with a rapid hand, which was scarcely legible,
+especially to a foreigner. Emilie, with her eyes full of tears, had no
+chance of deciphering it.
+
+"Do not hurry yourself, ma'am," said Mrs. Somers. "I will leave you my
+letter to show to madame la comtesse, and then you will be so good as
+to despatch it.--Mlle. de Coulanges," cried Mrs. Somers, "you will be
+so obliging as to refrain from mentioning to the countess the foolish
+offer that I made you in my son's name this morning. There is no
+necessity for mortifying my pride any farther--a refusal from you is
+quite decisive--so pray let there be no consultations. As to the rest,
+the blame of our disagreement will of course be thrown upon me."
+
+As Emilie moved towards the door, Mrs. Somers said, "Mlle. de
+Coulanges, I beg pardon for calling you back: but should you ever
+think of this business or of me, hereafter, you will do me the justice
+to remember that I made the proposal to you at a time when I was under
+the firm belief that you would never recover an inch of your estates
+in France."
+
+"And you, dear Mrs. Somers, if you should ever think of me hereafter,"
+said Emilie, "will, I hope, remember that my answer was given under
+the same belief."
+
+With a look which seemed to refuse assent, Mrs. Somers continued, "I
+am as well aware, ma'am, as you, or Mad. de Coulanges, can be, that if
+you should recover your hereditary property, the heiress of the house
+of Coulanges would be a person to whom my son should not presume to
+aspire."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Somers! Is not this cruel mockery--undeserved by
+me--unworthy of you?"
+
+"Mockery!--Ma'am, it is not three days since your mother was so
+positive in her expectations of being in the Hotel de Coulanges before
+next winter, that she was almost in fits because I ventured to differ
+on this point from her and Lady Littleton--Lady Littleton's judgment
+is much better than mine, and has, of course, had its weight--very
+justly--But I insist upon your understanding clearly that it had no
+weight with me in this affair. Whatever you may imagine, I never
+thought of the Coulanges estate."
+
+"Believe me, I never could have imagined that you did. If _I_ could
+suspect Mrs. Somers of interested motives," said Emilie, with emotion
+so great that she could scarcely articulate the words, "I must be an
+unfeeling--an ungrateful idiot!"
+
+"No, not an idiot, Mlle. de Coulanges--nobody can mistake you for an
+idiot: but, as I was going to say, if you inquire, Lady Littleton can
+tell you that I was absolutely provoked when I first heard you had a
+chance of recovering your property--you may smile, ma'am, but it is
+perfectly true. I own I might have been more prudent; but prudence,
+in affairs of the heart, is not one of my virtues: I own, however,
+it would have been more prudent to have refrained from making this
+proposal, till you had received a positive answer from France."
+
+"And why?" said Emilie. "Whatever that answer might have been, surely
+you must be certain that it would not have made any alteration in
+my conduct.--You are silent, Mrs. Somers!--You wound me to the
+heart!--Oh! do me justice!--Justice is all I ask."
+
+"I think that I do you justice--full justice--Mlle. de Coulanges; and
+if it wounds you to the heart, I am sorry for it; but that is not my
+fault."
+
+Emilie's countenance suddenly changed from the expression of
+supplicating tenderness to haughty indignation. "You doubt my
+integrity!" she exclaimed: "then, indeed, Mrs. Somers, it is best that
+we should part!"
+
+Mlle. de Coulanges disappeared, and Mrs. Somers shut herself up in her
+room, where she walked backwards and forwards for above an hour, then
+threw herself upon a sofa, and remained nearly another hour, till Mrs.
+Masham came to say that it was time to dress for dinner. She then
+started up, saying aloud, "I will think no more of these ungrateful
+people."
+
+"They are gone, ma'am," said Mrs. Masham--"gone, and gave no
+vails!--which I don't think _on_, upon my own account, God knows! for
+if millions were offered me, in pocket-pieces, I would not touch one
+from any soul that comes to the house, having enough, and more than
+enough, from my own generous lady, who is the only person I stoop to
+receive from with pleasure. But there are others in the house who
+are accustomed to vails, and, after staying so long, it was a little
+ungenteel to go without so much as offering any one any thing--and to
+go in such a hurry and huff--taking only a French leave, after all!
+I must acknowledge with you, ma'am, that they are the ungratefullest
+people that ever were seen in England. Why, ma'am, I went backwards
+and forwards often enough into their apartments, to try to make out
+the cause of the packings and messages to the washer-woman, that I
+might inform you, but nothing transpired; yet I am certain, in their
+hearts, they are more black and ungrateful than any that ever were
+born; for there!--at the last moment, when even, for old acquaintance
+sake, the tears stood in my eyes, there was Miss Emilie, sitting as
+composedly as a judge, painting a butterfly's wing on some of her
+Frenchifications! Her eyes were red, to do her justice; but whether
+with painting or crying, I can't pretend to be certain. But as to Mad.
+de Coulanges, I can answer for her that the sole thing in nature
+she thought of, in leaving this house, was the bad step of the
+hackney-coach."
+
+"Hackney-coach!" cried Mrs. Somers, with surprise. "Did they go away
+in a hackney-coach?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, much against the countess' stomach, I am sure: I only
+wish you had seen the face she made when the glass would not come up."
+
+"But why did not they take my carriage, or wait for Lady Littleton's?
+They were, it seems, in a violent hurry to be gone," said Mrs. Somers.
+
+"So it seems, indeed, ma'am--no better proof of their being the most
+ungratefullest people in the universe: but so it is, by all accounts,
+with all of their nation--the French having no constant hearts for any
+thing but singing, and dancing, and dressing, and making merry-andrews
+of themselves. Indeed, I own, till to-day, I thought Miss Emilie had
+less of the merry-andrew nature than any of her country; but the
+butterfly has satisfied me that there is no striving against climate
+and natural character, which conquer gratitude and every thing else."
+
+Mrs. Somers sighed, and told Masham that she had said enough upon
+this disagreeable subject. At dinner the subject was renewed by many
+visitors, who, as soon as they found that Mad. and Mlle. de Coulanges
+had left Mrs. Somers, began to find innumerable faults with the French
+in general, and with the countess and her daughter in particular. On
+the chapter of gratitude they were most severe; and Mrs. Somers was
+universally pitied for having so much generosity, and blamed for
+having had so much patience. Every body declared that they foresaw
+how she would be treated; and the exclamations of wonder at Lady
+Littleton's inviting to her house those who had behaved so ill to
+her friend were unceasing. Mrs. Somers all the time denied that she
+had any cause of complaint against either Mad. de Coulanges or her
+daughter; but the company judiciously trusted more to her looks than
+her words. Every thing was said or hinted that could exasperate her
+against her former favourites: for Mad. de Coulanges had made many
+enemies by engrossing an unreasonable share in the conversation; and
+Emilie by attracting too great a portion of attention by her beauty
+and engaging manners. Malice often overshoots the mark: Mrs. Somers
+was at first glad to hear the objects of her indignation abused; but
+at last she began to think the profusion of blame greater than was
+merited, and when she retired to rest at night, and when Masham began
+with "Oh, ma'am! do you know that Mlle. de Coulanges--" Mrs. Somers
+interrupted her, and said, "Masham, I desire to hear nothing more
+about Mlle. de Coulanges: I have heard her and her mother abused,
+without ceasing, these two hours, and that is enough."
+
+"Lord! ma'am, I was not going to abuse them--God forbid! I was just
+going to tell you," cried Masham, "that never was any thing so
+mistaken as all I said before dinner. Just now, ma'am, when I went
+into the little dressing-room, within Mad. de Coulanges' room, and
+happened to open the wardrobe, I was quite struck back with shame at
+my own unjustice: there, ma'am, poor Miss Emilie left something--and
+out of her best things!--to every maid-servant in the house; all
+directed in her own hand, and with a good word for each; and this ring
+for me, which she is kind enough to say is of no value but to put me
+in mind of all the attentions I have shown her and her mother--which,
+I am sure, were scarcely worth noticing, especially at such a time
+when she had enough to do, and her heart full, no doubt, poor
+soul!--There are her little paintings and embroideries, and pretty
+things, that she did when she was confined with her sprain, all laid
+out in order--'tis my astonishment how she found time!--and directed
+to her friends in London, as keep-sakes:--and the very butterfly that
+I was so angry with her for staying to finish, is on something for
+you, ma'am; and here's a packet that was with it, and that nobody saw
+till this minute."
+
+"Give it me!" cried Mrs. Somers. She tore it open, and found, in the
+first place, the pocketbook, full of bank notes, which she had given
+Mad. de Coulanges, with a few polite but haughty lines from the
+countess, saying that only twenty guineas had been used, which she
+hoped, at some future period, to be able to repay. Then came a note
+from Emilie, in which Mrs. Somers found her own letter to Lady
+Littleton. Emilie expressed herself as follows.
+
+    "Many thanks for the enclosed, but we have determined not to go to
+    Lady Littleton's: at least we will take care not to be the cause
+    of quarrel between friends to whom we are so much obliged.--No,
+    dear Mrs. Somers! we do not part in anger. Excuse me, if the last
+    words I said to you were hasty--they were forced from me by a
+    moment of passion--but it is past: all your generosity, all your
+    kindness, the recollection of all that you have done, all that you
+    have wished for my happiness, rush upon my mind; and every other
+    thought, and every other feeling, is forgotten. Would to Heaven
+    that I could express to you my gratitude by actions!--but words,
+    alas! are all that I have in my power--and where shall I find
+    words that can reach your heart? I had better be silent, and trust
+    to time and to you. I know your generous temper--you will soon
+    blame yourself for having judged too severely of Emilie. But
+    do not reproach yourself--do not let this give you a moment's
+    uneasiness: the clouds pass away, and the blue sky remains. Think
+    only--as I ever shall--of your goodness to mamma and to me. Adieu!
+
+    "EMILIE DE COULANGES."
+
+Mrs. Somers was much affected by this letter, and by the information
+that Emilie and her mother had declined taking refuge with Lady
+Littleton, lest they should occasion jealousies between her and her
+friend. Generous people are, of all others, the most touched by
+generosity of sentiment or of action. Mrs. Somers went to bed, enraged
+against herself--but it was now too late.
+
+In the mean time, Emilie and her mother were in an obscure lodging, at
+a haberdasher's near Golden Square. The pride of Mad. de Coulanges,
+at first, supported her even beyond her daughter's expectations; she
+uttered no complaints, but frequently repeated, "Mais nous sommes
+bien ici, très bien--we cannot expect to have things as well as at
+the Hotel de Coulanges." In a short time she was threatened with fits
+of her _vapeurs noirs_; but Emilie, with the assistance of her whole
+store of French songs, a bird-organ, a lap-dog, and a squirrel,
+belonging to the girl of the house, contrived to avert the danger for
+the present--as to the future, she trembled to think of it. M. de
+Brisac seemed to be continually in her mother's thoughts; and whatever
+occurred, or whatever was the subject of conversation, Mad. de
+Coulanges always found means to end with "_à propos de M. de Brisac_."
+Faithful to her promise, however, which Emilie, with the utmost
+delicacy, recalled to her mind, she declared that she would not give
+M. de Brisac an answer till the end of the month, which she had
+allowed her daughter for reflection, and that, till that period,
+she would not even let him know where they were to be found. Emilie
+thought that the time went very fast, and her mother evidently
+rejoiced at the idea that the month would soon be at an end. Emilie
+endeavoured, with all her skill, to demonstrate to her mother that
+it would be possible to support themselves, by her industry and
+ingenuity, without this marriage; and to this, Mad. de Coulanges at
+first replied, "Try, and you will soon be tired, child." Emilie's
+spirits rose on receiving this permission: she began by copying music
+for a music-shop in the neighbourhood; and her mother saw, with
+astonishment, that she persevered in her design, and that no fatigue
+or discouraging circumstances could vanquish her resolution.
+
+"Good Heavens! my child," said she, "you will wear yourself to a
+skeleton with copying music, and with painting, and embroidery,
+besides stooping so many hours over that tambour frame. My dear, how
+can you bear all this?"
+
+"How!--Oh! dear mamma!" said Emilie, "there is no great difficulty in
+all this to me--the difficulty, the impossibility would be, to live
+happily with a man I despise."
+
+"I wish," cried Mad. de Coulanges, "I wish to all the saints, that
+that hero of yours, that fellow-prisoner of ours at the Abbaye, with
+his humanity, and his generosity, and his courage, and all his fine
+qualities, had kept out of your way, Emilie: I wish he were fairly at
+the bottom of the Black Sea."
+
+"But you forget that he was the means of obtaining your liberty,
+mamma."
+
+"I wish I could forget it--I am always doomed to be obliged to those
+whom I cannot love. But, after all, you might as well think of the
+khan of Tartary as of this man, whom we shall never hear of more.
+Marry M. de Brisac, like a reasonable creature, and do not let me see
+you bending, as you do, for ever, over a tambour frame, wasting your
+fine eyes and spoiling your charming shape."
+
+"But, mamma," said Emilie, "would it not be much worse to marry one
+man, and like another?"
+
+"For mercy's sake! say something new to me, Emilie; at all events, I
+have heard this a hundred times."
+
+"The simple truth, alas!" said Emilie, "must always be the same: I
+wish I could put it in any new light that would please you, dear
+mamma."
+
+"It never can please me, child," cried Mad. de Coulanges, angrily;
+"nor can you please me, either, as you are going on. Fine heroism,
+truly!--you will sacrifice your duty and your mother to your obstinacy
+in an idle fancy. But, remember, the last days of the month are at
+hand--longer I will not listen to such provoking nonsense--it has half
+killed me already."
+
+Neither lap-dog, squirrel, bird-organ, nor Emilie's whole stock of
+French songs, could longer support the vivacity of Mad. de Coulanges;
+for some days she had passed the time in watching and listening to the
+London cries, as she sat at her window: the figures and sounds in this
+busy part of the town were quite new to her; and, whilst the novelty
+lasted, she was, like a child, good-humoured and full of exclamations.
+The want of some one to listen to these exclamations was an
+insupportable evil; she complained terribly of her daughter's silence,
+whilst she was attending to her different employments. This want of
+conversation, and of all the luxuries she enjoyed at the house of Mrs.
+Somers, her anger against that lady, her loss of all hope of hearing
+from France, and her fear that Emilie would at last absolutely refuse
+to obey and marry M. de Brisac, all together operated so powerfully
+upon Mad. de Coulanges, that she really felt sick, and kept her bed.
+Emilie now confined herself to her mother's room, and attended her
+with the most affectionate care, and with a degree of anxiety, which
+those only can comprehend who have believed themselves to be the cause
+of the illness of a friend--of a parent. Mad. de Coulanges would
+sometimes reply, when her daughter asked her if such or such a thing
+had done her good, "No, my child, nothing will do me good but your
+obedience, which you refuse me--perhaps on my deathbed."
+
+Though Emilie did not apprehend that her mother was in any immediate
+danger, yet these continual fits of low spirits and nervous attacks
+excited much alarm. Emilie's reflections on her own helpless situation
+contributed to magnify her fears: she considered that she was a
+stranger, a foreigner, without friends, without credit, almost without
+money, and deprived, by the necessary attendance on her sick mother,
+of all power to earn any by her own exertions. The bodily fatigue
+that she endured, even without any mental anxiety, would have been
+sufficient to wear out the spirits of a more robust person than
+Emilie. She had no human being to assist her but a young girl, a
+servant-maid belonging to the house, who, fortunately, was active and
+good-natured; but her mistress was excessively cross, vulgar, and
+avaricious; avarice, indeed, often seemed to conquer in her the common
+feelings of humanity. Once, whilst Mad. de Coulanges was extremely
+ill, she forced her way into her bedchamber, to insist upon changing
+the counterpane upon the bed, which she said was too good to be
+stained with coffee: another day, when she was angry with Mlle. de
+Coulanges, for having cracked a basin by heating some soup for her
+mother, she declared, in the least ceremonious terms possible, that
+she hated to have any of the French _refugees_ and emigrants in the
+house, for that she was not accustomed to let her lodgings to folk
+that nobody ever came near to visit, and that lived only upon soups
+and salads, and such low stuff; "and who, when they were ill, never so
+much as called in a physician, or even a nurse, but must take up the
+time of people that were not bound to wait upon them."
+
+Mlle. de Coulanges bore all this patiently rather than run the
+hazard of removing to other lodgings whilst her mother was so ill.
+The countess had a prejudice against English physicians, as she
+affirmed that it was impossible that they could understand French
+constitutions, especially hers, which was different from that of any
+other human being, and which, as she said, only one medical man in
+France rightly understood. At last, however, she yielded to the
+persuasions of her daughter, and permitted Emilie to send for a
+physician. When she inquired what he thought of her mother, he said,
+that she was in a nervous fever, and that unless her mind was kept
+free from anxiety he could not answer for her recovery. Mad. de
+Coulanges looked full at her daughter, who was standing at the foot
+of her bed; a mist came before Emilie's eyes, a cold dew covered
+her forehead, and she was forced to hold by the bed-post to support
+herself.
+
+At this instant the door opened, and Lady Littleton appeared. Emilie
+sprang forward, and threw herself into her arms--Mad. de Coulanges
+started up in her bed, exclaiming "Ah Ciel!" and then all were
+silent--except the mistress of the house, who went on making apologies
+about the dirt of her stairs, and its being Friday night. But as she
+at length perceived that not a soul in the room knew a word she was
+saying, she retreated. The physician took leave--and, when they were
+thus left at liberty, Lady Littleton seated herself in the broken
+arm-chair beside the bed, and told Mad. de Coulanges that Mrs. Somers
+had been very unhappy, in consequence of their quarrel; and that she
+had been indefatigable in her inquiries and endeavours to find out the
+place of their retreat; that she had at last given up the search in
+despair. "But," continued Lady Littleton, "it has been my good fortune
+to discover you by means of this flower of Emilie's painting"--(she
+produced a little hand-screen, which Emilie had lately made, and which
+she had sent to be disposed of at the Repository for Ingenious Works).
+"I knew it to be yours, my dear, because it is an exact resemblance
+of one upon your watch of Flora, which was drawn from the flower I
+brought you from Kew Gardens. Now you must not be angry with me for
+finding you out, nor for begging of you to be reconciled to poor Mrs.
+Somers, who has suffered much in your absence--much from the idea of
+what you would endure--and more from her self-reproaches. She has,
+indeed, an unfortunate susceptibility of temper, which makes her
+sometimes forget both politeness and justice: but, as you well know,
+her heart is excellent. Come, you must promise me to meet her at my
+house, as soon as you are able to go out, my dear Mad. de Coulanges."
+
+"I do not know when that will be," replied Mad. de Coulanges, in a
+sick voice: "I was never so ill in my life--and so the physician says.
+But I am revived by seeing Lady Littleton--she is, and ever has been,
+all goodness and politeness to us. I am ashamed that she should see us
+in such a miserable place. Emilie, give me my other night-riband, and
+the wretched little looking-glass."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges sat up and arranged her head-dress. At this moment,
+Lady Littleton took Emilie aside, and put into her hand a letter from
+France!--"I would not speak of it suddenly to your mother, my dear,"
+said she; "but you will find the proper time. I hope it contains good
+news--at present I will have patience. You shall see me again soon;
+and you must, at all events, let me take you from this miserable
+place. Mrs. Somers has been punished enough.--Adieu!--I long to know
+the news from France."
+
+The news from France was such as made the looking-glass drop from the
+hand of Mad. de Coulanges. It was a letter from the son of her old
+steward, to tell her that his father was dead--that he was now in
+possession of all the family fortune, which he was impatient to
+restore to the wife and daughter of his former master and friend.
+
+"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed Mad. de Coulanges, in an ecstasy of
+joy--"Heaven be praised! we shall once more see dear Paris, and the
+Hotel de Coulanges!"
+
+"Heaven be praised!" cried Emilie, "I shall never more see M. de
+Brisac. My mother, I am sure, will no longer wish me to marry him."
+
+"No, in truth," said the countess, "it would now be a most unequal
+match, and one to which he is by no means entitled. How fortunate it
+is that I had not given him my promise!--After all, your aversion to
+him, child, was quite providential. Now you may form the most splendid
+alliance that your heart can desire."
+
+"My heart," said Emilie, sighing, "desires no splendid alliance. But
+had you not better lie down, dear mamma?--You will certainly catch
+cold--and remember, your mind must be kept quiet."
+
+It was impossible to keep her mind quiet; she ran on from one subject
+to another with extravagant volubility; and Emilie was afraid that she
+would, the next day, be quite exhausted; but, on the contrary, after
+talking above half the night, she fell into a sound sleep; and when
+she wakened, after having slept fourteen hours, she declared that she
+would no longer be kept a prisoner in bed. The renovating effects of
+joy and the influence of the imagination were never more strongly
+displayed. "Le malheur passé n'est bon qu'à être oublié," was la
+comtesse's favourite maxim--and to do her justice, she was as ready to
+forget past quarrels as past misfortunes. She readily complied with
+Emilie's request that she would, as soon as she was able to go out,
+accompany her to Lady Littleton's, that they might meet and be
+reconciled to Mrs. Somers.
+
+"She has the most tormenting temper imaginable," said the countess;
+"and I would not live with her for the universe--Mais d'ailleurs c'est
+la meilleure femme du monde."
+
+If, instead of being the best woman in the world, Mrs. Somers had been
+the worst, and if, instead of being a benefactress, she had been an
+enemy, it would have been all the same thing to the countess; for,
+in this moment, she was, as usual, like a child, a _friend_ to every
+creature of every kind.
+
+Her volubility was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Littleton, who
+came to carry Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie to her house, where, as
+her ladyship said, Mrs. Somers was impatiently waiting for them. Lady
+Littleton had prevented her from coming to this poor lodging-house,
+because she knew that the being seen there would mortify the pride of
+some of the house of Coulanges.
+
+Mrs. Somers was indeed waiting for them with inexpressible impatience.
+The moment she heard their voices in the hall at Lady Littleton's, she
+ran down stairs to meet them; and as she embraced Emilie she could not
+refrain from bursting into tears.
+
+"Tears of joy, these must be," cried Mad. de Coulanges: "we are
+all happy now--perfectly happy--Are not we?--Embrace me, Mrs.
+Somers--Emilie shall not have all your heart--I have some gratitude
+as well as my daughter; and I should have none if I did not love
+you--especially at this moment."
+
+Mad. de Coulanges was, by this time, at the head of the stairs; a
+servant opened the drawing-room door; but something was amiss with the
+strings of her sandals--she would stay to adjust them--and said to
+Emilie, "Allez, allez--entrez."
+
+Emilie obeyed. An instant afterwards Mad. de Coulanges thought she
+heard a sudden cry, either of joy or grief, from Emilie--she hurried
+into the drawing-room.
+
+"Bon Dieu! c'est notre homme de l'Abbaye!" cried she, starting back at
+the sight of a gentleman who had been kneeling at Emilie's feet, and
+who arose as she entered.
+
+"My son!" said Mrs. Somers, eagerly presenting him to Mad. de
+Coulanges--"my son! whom it is in your power to make the happiest or
+the most miserable of men!"
+
+"In my power!--in Emilie's, you mean, I suppose," said the countess,
+smiling. "She is so good a girl that I cannot make her miserable;
+and as for you, Mrs. Somers, the honour of your alliance--and our
+obligations--But then I shall be miserable myself if she does not go
+back with me to the Hotel de Coulanges--Ah! Ciel!--And then poor M.
+de Brisac, he will be miserable, unless, to comfort him, I marry him
+myself."--Half laughing, half crying, Mad. de Coulanges scarcely knew
+what she said or did.
+
+It was some time before she was sufficiently composed to understand
+clearly what was said to her by any person in the room, though she
+asked, half a dozen times, at least, from every one present, an
+explanation of all that had happened.
+
+Lady Littleton was the only person who could give an explanation. She
+had contrived this meeting, and even Mrs. Somers had not foreseen the
+event--she never suspected that her own son was the very person to
+whom Emilie was attached, and that it was for Emilie's sake her son
+had hitherto refused to comply with her earnest desire that he should
+marry and settle in the world. He had no hopes that she would consent
+to his marrying a French girl without fortune, because she formerly
+quarrelled with him for refusing to marry a rich lady of quality, who
+happened to be, at that time, high in her favour. Upon the summons
+home that he received from her, he was alarmed by the apprehension
+that she had some new alliance in view for him, and he resolved,
+before he saw his mother, to trust his secret to Lady Littleton, who
+had always been a mediatrix and peace-maker. He declined telling the
+name of the object of his affections; but, from his description, and
+from many concomitant dates and circumstances, Lady Littleton was led
+to suspect that it might be Emilie de Coulanges. She consequently
+contrived an interview, which she knew must be decisive.
+
+Mad. de Coulanges, whose imagination was now at Paris, felt rather
+disappointed at the idea of her daughter's marrying an Englishman, who
+was neither a count, a marquis, nor even a baron; but Lady Littleton
+at length obtained that consent which she knew would be necessary to
+render Emilie happy, even in following the dictates of her heart, or
+her reason.
+
+Some conversation passed between Lady Littleton and Mrs. Somers about
+a dormant title in the Somers' family, which might be revived. This
+made a wonderful impression on the countess. She yielded, as she did
+every thing else, with a good grace.
+
+History does not say, whether she did or did not console M. de Brisac:
+we are only informed that, immediately after her daughter's marriage,
+she returned to Paris, and gave a splendid ball at her Hotel de
+Coulanges. We are further assured that Mrs. Somers never quarrelled
+with Emilie from the day of her marriage till the day of her
+death--but that is incredible.
+
+1803.
+
+
+
+
+THE MODERN GRISELDA.
+
+A TALE.
+
+
+  "And since in man right reason bears the sway,
+  Let that frail thing, weak woman, have her way."
+
+POPE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+  "Blest as th'immortal gods is he,
+  The youth who fondly sits by thee,
+  Who sees and hears thee all the while,
+  Softly speak and sweetly smile."
+
+
+"Is not this ode set to music, my dear Griselda?" said the happy
+bridegroom to his bride.
+
+"Yes, surely, my dear: did you never hear it?"
+
+"Never; and I am glad of it, for I shall have the pleasure of hearing
+it for the first time from you, my love: will you be so kind as to
+play it for me?"
+
+"Most willingly," said Griselda, with an enchanting smile; "but I am
+afraid that I shall not be able to do it justice," added she, as she
+sat down to her harp, and threw her white arm across the chords.
+
+"Charming! Thank you, my love," said the bridegroom, who had listened
+with enthusiastic devotion.--"Will you let me hear it once more?"
+
+The complaisant bride repeated the strain.
+
+"Thank you, my dear love," repeated her husband. This time he omitted
+the word "_charming_"--she missed it, and, pouting prettily, said,
+
+"I never can play any thing so well the second time as the
+first."--She paused: but as no compliment ensued, she continued, in a
+more pettish tone, "And for that reason, I do hate to be made to play
+any thing twice over."
+
+"I did not know that, my dearest love, or I would not have asked you
+to do it; but I am the more obliged to you for your ready compliance."
+
+"Obliged!--Oh, my dear, I am sure you could not be the least obliged
+to me, for I know I played it horridly: I hate flattery."
+
+"I am convinced of that, my dear, and therefore I never flatter: you
+know I did not say that you played as well the last time as the first,
+did I?"
+
+"No, I did not say you did," cried Griselda, and her colour rose as
+she spoke: she tuned her harp with some precipitation--"This harp is
+terribly out of tune."
+
+"Is it? I did not perceive it."
+
+"Did not you, indeed? I am sorry for that."
+
+"Why so, my dear?"
+
+"Because, my dear, I own that I would rather have had the blame thrown
+on my harp than upon myself."
+
+"Blame? my love!--But I threw no blame either on you or your harp. I
+cannot recollect saying even a syllable that implied blame."
+
+"No, my dear, you did not say a syllable; but in some cases the
+silence of those we love is the worst, the most mortifying species of
+blame."
+
+The tears came into Griselda's beautiful eyes.
+
+"My sweet love," said he, "how can you let such a trifle affect you so
+much?"
+
+"Nothing is a trifle to me which concerns those I love," said
+Griselda.--Her husband kissed away the pearly drops which rolled over
+her vermeil-tinctured cheeks. "My love," said he, "this is having too
+much sensibility."
+
+"Yes, I own I have too much sensibility," said she, "too much--a great
+deal too much, for my own happiness.--Nothing ever can be a trifle to
+me which marks the decline of the affection of those who are most dear
+to me."
+
+The tenderest protestations of undiminished and unalterable affection
+could not for some time reassure this timid sensibility: but at length
+the lady suffered herself to be comforted, and with a languid smile
+said, that she hoped she was mistaken--that her fears were perhaps
+unreasonable--that she prayed to Heaven they might in future prove
+groundless.
+
+A few weeks afterwards her husband unexpectedly met with Mr. Granby,
+a friend, of whose company he was particularly fond: he invited him
+home to dinner, and was talking over past times in all the gaiety
+and innocence of his heart, when suddenly his wife rose and left the
+room.--As her absence appeared to him long, and as he had begged his
+friend to postpone _an excellent story_ till her return, he went to
+her apartment and called "Griselda!--Griselda, my love!"--No Griselda
+answered.--He searched for her in vain in every room in the house:
+at last, in an alcove in the garden, he found the fair dissolved in
+tears.
+
+"Good Heavens! my dear Griselda, what can be the matter?"
+
+A melancholy, not to say sullen, silence was maintained by his dear
+Griselda, till this question had been reiterated in all the possible
+tones of fond solicitude and alarm: at last, in broken sentences, she
+replied that she saw he did not love her--never had loved her; that
+she had now but too much reason to be convinced that all her fears
+were real, not imaginary; that her presentiments, alas! never deceived
+her; that she was the most miserable woman on earth.
+
+Her husband's unfeigned astonishment she seemed to consider as an
+aggravation of her woes, and it was an additional insult to plead
+ignorance of his offence.
+
+If he did not understand her feelings, it was impossible, it was
+needless, to explain them. He must have lost all sympathy with her,
+all tenderness for her, if he did not know what had passed in her
+mind.
+
+The man stood in stupid innocence. Provoked to speak more plainly, the
+lady exclaimed, "Unfeeling, cruel, barbarous man!--Have not you this
+whole day been trying your utmost skill to torment me to death? and,
+proud of your success, now you come to enjoy your triumph."
+
+"Success!--triumph!"
+
+"Yes, triumph!--I see it in your eyes--it is in vain to deny it. All
+this I owe to your friend Mr. Granby. Why he should be my enemy!--I
+who never injured him, or any body living, in thought, word, or
+deed--why he should be my enemy!"--
+
+"Enemy!--My love, this is the strangest fancy! Why should you imagine
+that he is your enemy?"
+
+"He _is_ my enemy--nobody shall ever convince me of the contrary;
+he has wounded me in the tenderest point, and in the basest manner:
+has not he done his utmost, in the most artful, insidious way,--even
+before my face,--to persuade you that you were a thousand times
+happier when you were a bachelor than you are now--than you ever have
+been since you married me?"
+
+"Oh, my dear Griselda, you totally misunderstand him: such a thought
+never entered his mind."
+
+"Pardon me, I know him better than you do."
+
+"But I have known him ever since I was a child."
+
+"That is the very reason you cannot judge of him as well as I can: how
+could you judge of character when you were a child?"
+
+"But now that I am a man--"
+
+"Now that you are a man you are prejudiced in his favour by all the
+associations of your childhood--all those associations," continued the
+fair one, renewing her tears, "all those early associations, which are
+stronger than every other species of affection--all those associations
+which I never _can_ have in your mind, which ever must act against me,
+and which no merit--if I had any merit--no tenderness, no fidelity, no
+fondness of mine, can ever hope to balance in the heart of the man I
+love."
+
+"My dearest Griselda! be reasonable, and do not torment yourself and
+me for no earthly purpose about these associations: really it is
+ridiculous. Come, dry these useless tears, let me beseech you, my
+love. You do not know how much pain they give me, unreasonable as they
+are."
+
+At these words they flowed more bitterly.
+
+"Nay, my love, I conjure you to compose yourself, and return to the
+company: you do not know how long you have been away, and I too. We
+shall be missed; we shall make ourselves ridiculous."
+
+"If it be ridiculous to love, I shall be ridiculous all my life. I am
+sorry you think me so; I knew it would come to this; I must bear it if
+I can," said Griselda; "only be so kind to excuse me from returning
+to the company to-night--indeed I am not fit, I am not able: say that
+I am not well; indeed, my love, you may say so with truth.--Tell
+your friend that I have a terrible head-ache, and that I am gone
+to bed--but not to rest," added she, in a lower and more plaintive
+tone, as she drew her hand from her husband's, and in spite of all
+his entreaties retired to her room with an air of heart-broken
+resignation.
+
+Whoever has had the felicity to be beloved by such a wife as our
+Griselda, must have felt how much the charms of beauty are heightened
+by the anguish of sensibility. Even in the moment when a husband is
+most tormented by her caprices, he feels that there is something so
+amiable, so flattering to his vanity in their source, that he cannot
+complain of the killing pleasure. On the contrary, he grows fonder of
+his dear tormentor; he folds closer to him this pleasing bosom ill.
+
+Griselda perceived the effects, and felt the whole extent of the power
+of sensibility; she had too much prudence, however, at once to wear
+out the excitability of a husband's heart; she knew that the influence
+of tears, potent as it is, might in time cease to be irresistible,
+unless aided by the magic of smiles; she knew the power of contrast
+even in charms; she believed the poets, who certainly understand these
+things, and who assure us that the very existence of love depends on
+this blest vicissitude. Convinced, or seemingly convinced, of the
+folly of that fond melancholy in which she persisted for a week, she
+next appeared all radiant with joy; and she had reason to be delighted
+by the effect which this produced. Her husband, who had not yet been
+long enough her husband to cease to be her lover, had suffered much
+from the obstinacy of her sorrow; his spirits had sunk, he had become
+silent, he had been even seen to stand motionless with his arms
+folded; he was in this attitude when she approached and smiled upon
+him in all her glory. He breathed, he lived, he moved, he spoke.--Not
+the influence of the sun on the statue of Memnon was ever more
+exhilarating.
+
+Let any candid female say, or, if she will not say, imagine, what she
+should have felt at that moment in Griselda's place.--How intoxicating
+to human vanity, to be possessed of such powers of enchantment!--How
+difficult to refrain from their exercise!--How impossible to believe
+in their finite duration!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+  "_Some_ hope a lover by their faults to win,
+  As spots on ermine beautify the skin."
+
+
+When Griselda thought that her husband had long enough enjoyed his new
+existence, and that there was danger of his forgetting the taste of
+sorrow, she changed her tone.--One day, when he had not returned home
+exactly at the appointed minute, she received him with a frown,--such
+as would have made even Mars himself recoil, if Mars could have beheld
+such a frown upon the brow of his Venus.
+
+"Dinner has been kept waiting for you this hour, my dear."
+
+"I am very sorry for it; but why did you wait, my dear? I am really
+very sorry I am so late, but (looking at his watch) it is only half
+past six by me."
+
+"It is seven by me."
+
+They presented their watches to each other; he, in an apologetical,
+she, in a reproachful attitude.
+
+"I rather think you are too fast, my dear," said the gentleman.
+
+"I am very sure you are too slow, my dear," said the lady.
+
+"My watch never loses a minute in the four-and-twenty hours," said he.
+
+"Nor mine a second," said she.
+
+"I have reason to believe I am right, my love," said the husband,
+mildly.
+
+"Reason!" exclaimed the wife, astonished; "what reason can you
+possibly have to believe you are right, when I tell you I am morally
+certain you are wrong, my love?"
+
+"My only reason is, that I set my watch by the sun to-day."
+
+"The sun must be wrong, then," cried the lady, hastily.--"You need not
+laugh; for I know what I am saying--the variation, the declination,
+must be allowed for in computing it with the clock. Now you know
+perfectly well what I mean, though you will not explain it for me,
+because you are conscious I am in the right."
+
+"Well, my dear, if _you_ are conscious of it, that is sufficient. We
+will not dispute any more about such a trifle.--Are they bringing up
+dinner?"
+
+"If they know that you are come in; but I am sure I cannot tell
+whether they do or not.--Pray, my dear Mrs. Nettleby," cried the
+lady, turning to a female friend, and still holding her watch in her
+hand, "what o'clock is it by you? There is nobody in the world hates
+disputing about trifles as much as I do; but I own I do love to
+convince people that I am in the right."
+
+Mrs. Nettleby's watch had stopped. How provoking!--Vexed at having no
+immediate means of convincing people that she was in the right, our
+heroine consoled herself by proceeding to criminate her husband, not
+in this particular instance, where he pleaded guilty, but upon the
+general charge of being always late for dinner, which he strenuously
+denied.
+
+There is something in the species of reproach, which advances thus
+triumphantly from particulars to generals, peculiarly offensive to
+every reasonable and susceptible mind: and there is something in the
+general charge of being always late for dinner, which the punctuality
+of man's nature cannot easily endure, especially if he be hungry.
+We should humbly advise our female friends to forbear exposing a
+husband's patience to this trial, or at least to temper it with much
+fondness, else mischief will infallibly ensue. For the first time
+Griselda saw her husband angry; but she recovered him by saying, in
+a softened tone, "My love, you must be sensible that I can have but
+one reason for being so impatient for your return home.--If I liked
+your company less, I should not complain so much of your want of
+punctuality."
+
+Finding that this speech had the desired effect, it was afterwards
+repeated with variations whenever her husband stayed from home to
+enjoy any species of amusement, or to gratify any of his friends.
+When he betrayed symptoms of impatience under this constraint, the
+expostulations became more urgent, if not more forcible.
+
+"Indeed, my dear, I take it rather unkindly of you that you pay so
+little attention to my feelings--"
+
+"I see I am of no consequence to you _now_; I find every body's
+society is preferred to mine: it was not always so.--Well! it is what
+I might have expected--"
+
+"Heigho!--Heigho!--"
+
+Griselda's sighs were still persuasive, and her husband,
+notwithstanding that he felt the restraints which daily multiplied
+upon his time and upon his personal liberty becoming irksome, had not
+the barbarity to give pain to the woman by whom he was so tenderly
+beloved. He did not consider that in this case, as well as in many
+others, apparent mercy is real cruelty. The more this monopolizing
+humour of his wife's was indulged, the more insatiable it became.
+Every person, every thing but herself, was to be excluded from his
+heart; and when this sole patent for pleasure was granted to her, she
+became rather careless in its exercise, as those are apt to be who
+fear no competitors. In proportion as her endeavours to please abated,
+her expectations of being adored increased: the slightest word of
+blame, the most remote hint that any thing in her conduct, manners, or
+even dress, could be altered for the better, was the signal for battle
+or for tears.
+
+One night she wept for an hour, and debated for two, about an
+alteration in her head-dress, which her husband unluckily happened to
+say made it more becoming. _More becoming_! implied that it was before
+unbecoming. She recollected the time when every thing she wore was
+becoming in his eyes--but that time, alas! was completely past; and
+she only wished that she could forget that it had ever been.
+
+"To have been happy is additional misery."
+
+This misery may appear comic to some people, but it certainly was
+not so to our heroine's unfortunate husband. It was in vain that, in
+mitigation of his offence, he pleaded total want of knowledge in the
+arcana of the toilette, absolute inferiority of taste, and a willing
+submission to the decrees of fashion.
+
+This submission was called indifference--this calmness construed into
+contempt. He stood convicted of having said that the lady's dress was
+unbecoming--she was certain that he thought more than he said, and
+that every thing about her was grown disagreeable to him.
+
+It was in vain he represented that his affection had not been created,
+and could not be annihilated, by such trifles; that it rested on the
+solid basis of esteem.
+
+"Esteem!" cried his wife--"that is the unkindest stroke of all! When a
+man begins to talk of esteem, there is an end of love."
+
+To illustrate this position, the fair one, as well as the disorder of
+her mind would permit, entered into a refined disquisition, full of
+all the metaphysics of gallantry, which proved that love--genuine
+love--is an æthereal essence, a union of souls, regulated by none of
+those formal principles, and founded upon none of those vulgar moral
+qualities on which friendship, and the other connexions of society,
+depend. Far, far above the jurisdiction of reason, true love creates
+perfect sympathy in taste, and an absolute identity of opinion upon
+all subjects, physical, metaphysical, moral, political, and economic.
+After having thus established her theory, her practice was wonderfully
+consistent, and she reasonably expected from her husband the most
+exact conformity to her principles--of course, his five senses and
+his understanding were to be identified with hers. If he saw, heard,
+felt, or understood differently from her, he did not, could not, love
+her. Once she was offended by his liking white better than black; at
+another time she was angry with him for loving the taste of mushrooms.
+One winter she quarrelled with him for not admiring the touch of
+satin, and one summer she was jealous of him for listening to the song
+of a blackbird. Then because he could not prefer to all other odours
+the smell of jessamine, she was ready "to die of a rose in aromatic
+pain." The domain of taste, in the more enlarged sense of the
+word, became a glorious field of battle, and afforded subjects of
+inextinguishable war. Our heroine was accomplished, and knew how to
+make all her accomplishments and her knowledge of use. As she was
+mistress not only of the pencil, but of all "the cant of criticism,"
+had infinite advantages in the wordy war. From the _beau ideal_ to
+the choice of a snuffer-dish, all came within her province, and was
+to be submitted, without appeal, to her instinctive sense of moral
+order.--Happy fruits of knowledge!--Happy those who can thus enlarge
+their intellectual dominion, and can vary eternally the dear delight
+of giving pain. The range of opinion was still more ample than the
+province of taste, affording scope for all the joys of assertion
+and declamation--for the opposing of learned and unlearned
+authorities--for the quoting the opinions of friends--counting voices
+instead of arguments--wondering at the absurdity of those who can be
+of a different way of thinking--appealing to the judgment of the whole
+world--or resting perfectly satisfied with her own. Sometimes the most
+important, sometimes the most trivial, and seemingly uninteresting
+subjects, gave exercise to Griselda's powers; and in all cases being
+entirely of her opinion was the only satisfactory proof of love.
+
+Our heroine knew how, with able generalship, to take advantage of
+time and situation.--Just before the birth of their child, which,
+by-the-bye, was born dead, a dispute arose between the husband
+and wife concerning public and private education, which, from its
+vehemence, alarmed the gentleman into a perfect conviction that he was
+in the wrong. Scarcely had Griselda gained this point, when a question
+arose at the tea-table respecting the Chinese method of making tea. It
+was doubted by some of the company whether it was made in a tea-pot or
+a tea-cup. Griselda gave her opinion loudly for the tea-pot--her lord
+and master inclined to the tea-cup; and as neither of them had been
+in China, they could debate without fear of coming to a conclusion.
+The subject seemed at first insignificant; but the lady's method of
+managing it supplied all deficiencies, and roused all the passions
+of human nature on the one side or the other. Victory hung doubtful;
+but our heroine won the day by taking time into the account.--Her
+adversary was in a hurry to go to meet some person on business, and
+quitted the field of battle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+  "Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
+  Strong sovereign Will, and some desire to chide."
+
+
+"There are," says Dr. Johnson, "a thousand familiar disputes which
+reason can never decide; questions that elude investigation, and make
+logic ridiculous--cases where something must be done, and where
+little can be said.--Wretched would be the pair above all names of
+wretchedness who should be doomed to adjust by reason every morning
+all the detail of a domestic day."
+
+Our heroine made a double advantage of this passage: for she regularly
+reasoned where logic was ridiculous, and could not be prevailed upon
+to listen to reason when it might have been useful.--She substituted
+her _will_ most frequently for arguments, and often opposed it to her
+husband's, in order to give him the merit of sacrificing his wishes.
+When he wanted to read, she suddenly wished to walk; when he wished
+to walk, she was immersed in her studies. When he was busy, she was
+talkative; when he was eager to hear her converse, she was inclined
+to be silent. The company that he liked, she disliked; the public
+amusements that she most frequented were those of which he least
+approved. This species of wilfulness was the strongest proof of her
+solicitude about his good opinion.--She could not bear, she said, that
+he should consider her as a child, who was not able to govern herself.
+She could not believe that a man had confidence in her unless he
+proved it by leaving her at liberty to decide and act for herself.
+
+Sometimes she receded, sometimes she advanced in her claims; but
+without marking the daily ebbs and flows of her humour, it is
+sufficient to observe, that it continually encroached upon her
+husband's indulgence. She soon insisted upon being _consulted_, that
+is, obeyed, in affairs which did not immediately come under the
+cognizance of her sex--politics inclusive. This apparently exorbitant
+love of power was veiled under the most affectionate humility.
+
+"Oh, my love! I know you despise my abilities; you think these things
+above the comprehension of poor women. I know I am but your plaything
+after all: you cannot consider me for a moment as your equal or your
+friend--I see that!--You talk of these things to your friend Mr.
+Granby--I am not worthy to hear them.--Well, I am sure I have no
+ambition, except to possess the confidence of the man I love."
+
+The lady forgot that she had, upon a former occasion, considered
+a profession of esteem from her husband as an insult, and that,
+according to her definition of true love, esteem was incompatible with
+its existence.
+
+Tacitus remarks, that it is common with princes to will
+contradictories; in this characteristic they have the honour to
+resemble some of the fair sex, as well as all spoiled children. Having
+every feasible wish gratified, they are obliged to wish for what
+is impossible, for want of something to desire or to do: they are
+compelled to cry for the moon, or for new worlds to conquer.--Our
+heroine having now attained the summit of human glory and happiness,
+and feeling almost as much ennui as was expressed by the conqueror
+of the world, yawned one morning, as she sat tête-à-tête with her
+husband, and said--
+
+"I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning.--Why do you
+keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear?"
+
+"Here it is for you, my dear: I have finished it."
+
+"I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it--I
+hate stale news.--Is there any thing in the paper? for I cannot be at
+the trouble of hunting it."
+
+"Yes, my dear, there are the marriages of two of our friends--"
+
+"Who? Who?"
+
+"Your friend the Widow Nettleby, to her cousin John Nettleby."
+
+"Mrs. Nettleby! Lord! but why did you tell me?"
+
+"Because you asked me, my dear."
+
+"Oh! but it is a hundred times pleasanter to read the paragraph one's
+self: one loses all the pleasure of the surprise by being told.--Well!
+whose was the other marriage?"
+
+"Oh! my dear, I will not tell you--I will leave you the pleasure of
+the surprise."
+
+"But you see I cannot guess it.--How provoking you are, my dear! Do
+pray tell it me."
+
+"Our friend Mr. Granby."
+
+"Mr. Granby!--Dear! Why did not you make me guess? I should have
+guessed him directly: but why do you call him our friend? I am sure he
+is no friend of mine, nor ever was; I took an aversion to him, as you
+may remember, the very first day I saw him: I am sure he is no friend
+of mine."
+
+"I am sorry for it, my dear; but I hope you will go and see Mrs.
+Granby?"
+
+"Not I, indeed, my dear.--Who was she?"
+
+"Miss Cooke."
+
+"Cooke!--but there are so many Cookes.--Can't you distinguish her any
+way?--Has she no Christian name?"
+
+"Emma, I think--yes, Emma."
+
+"Emma Cooke!--No; it cannot be my friend Emma Cooke--for I am sure she
+was cut out for an old maid."
+
+"This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good wife."
+
+"May be so--I am sure I'll never go to see her--Pray, my dear, how
+came you to see so much of her?"
+
+"I have seen very little of her, my dear: I only saw her two or three
+times before she was married."
+
+"Then, my dear, how could you decide that she is cut out for a good
+wife?--I am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only two or
+three times, and before she was married."
+
+"Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation."
+
+"I understand that compliment perfectly, and thank you for it, my
+dear.--I must own I can bear any thing better than irony."
+
+"Irony! my dear; I was perfectly in earnest."
+
+"Yes, yes; in earnest--so I perceive--I may naturally be dull of
+apprehension, but my feelings are quick enough: I comprehend you too
+well. Yes--it is impossible to judge of a woman before marriage, or
+to guess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from
+experience; you have been disappointed yourself, and repent your
+choice."
+
+"My dear, what did I say that was like this? Upon my word I meant no
+such thing; I really was not thinking of you in the least."
+
+"No--you never think of me now: I can easily believe that you were not
+thinking of me in the least."
+
+"But I said that only to prove to you that I could not be thinking ill
+of you, my dear."
+
+"But I would rather that you thought ill of me than that you did not
+think of me at all."
+
+"Well, my dear," said her husband, laughing, "I will even think ill of
+you, if that will please you."
+
+"Do you laugh at me?" cried she, bursting into tears. "When it comes
+to this, I am wretched indeed! Never man laughed at the woman he
+loved! As long as you had the slightest remains of love for me,
+you could not make me an object of derision: ridicule and love are
+incompatible, absolutely incompatible. Well, I have done my best, my
+very best, to make you happy, but in vain. I see I am not _cut out_ to
+be a good wife. Happy, happy Mrs. Granby!"
+
+"Happy I hope sincerely that she will be with my friend; but my
+happiness must depend on you, my love; so, for my sake, if not for
+your own, be composed, and do not torment yourself with such fancies."
+
+"I do wonder," cried our heroine, starting from her seat, "whether
+this Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I'll go and see her
+directly; see her I must."
+
+"I am heartily glad of it, my dear; for I am sure a visit to his wife
+will give my friend Granby real pleasure."
+
+"I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give him pleasure, or you
+either; but to satisfy my own--_curiosity_."
+
+The rudeness of this speech would have been intolerable to her husband
+if it had not been for a certain hesitation in the emphasis with which
+she pronounced the word curiosity, which left him in doubt as to her
+real motive.
+
+Jealousy is sometimes thought to be a proof of love; and, in
+this point of view, must not all its caprices, absurdities, and
+extravagances, be graceful, amiable, and gratifying?
+
+A few days after Griselda had satisfied her curiosity, she thus, in
+the presence of her husband, began to vent her spleen:
+
+"For Heaven's sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby," cried she, addressing herself
+to the new-married widow, who came to return her wedding visit--"for
+pity's sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby, can you or any body else tell me what
+possessed Mr. Granby to marry Emma Cooke?"
+
+"I am sure I cannot tell, for I have not seen her yet."
+
+"You will be less able to tell after you have seen her, and still less
+after you have heard her."
+
+"What, then, she is neither a wit nor a beauty! I'm quite surprised at
+that; for I thought, to be sure, Mr. Granby, who is such a judge and
+such a critic, and so nice about female manners, would not have been
+content without something very extraordinary."
+
+"Nothing can be more ordinary."
+
+"Astonishing! but I am quite tired of being astonished at marriages!
+One sees such strange matches every day, I am resolved never to be
+surprised at any thing: who _can_, that lives in the world? But really
+now I am surprised at Mr. Granby. What! is she nothing?"
+
+"Nothing--absolutely nothing; a cipher; a nonentity."
+
+"Now really? you do not tell me so," said Mrs. Nettleby. "Well, I am
+so disappointed; for I always resolved to take example by Mr. Granby's
+wife."
+
+"I would rather that she should take warning by me," said Griselda,
+laughing. "But to be candid, I must tell you that to some people's
+taste she is a pattern wife--a perfect Grizzle. She and I should have
+changed names--or characters. Which, my dear?" cried she, appealing to
+her husband.
+
+"Not names, my dear," answered he.
+
+The conversation might here have ended happily, but unluckily our
+heroine could not be easily satisfied before Mrs. Nettleby, to whom
+she was proud of showing her conjugal ascendancy.
+
+"My dear," said she to her husband, "a-propos to pattern wives: you
+have read Chaucer's Tales. Do you seriously like or dislike the real,
+original, old Griselda?"
+
+"It is so long since I have seen her that I cannot tell," replied he.
+
+"Then, my dear, you must read the story over again, and tell me
+without evasion."
+
+"And if he could read it before Mrs. Granby and me, what a compliment
+that would be to one bride," added the malicious Mrs. Nettleby, "and
+what a lesson for another!"
+
+"Oh, it must be so! it must be so!" cried Griselda. "I will ask her
+here on purpose to a reading party; and you, my dear Mrs. Nettleby,
+will come for your lesson. You, my love, who read so well--and who,
+I am sure, will be delighted to pay a compliment to your favourite,
+Mrs. Granby--you will read, and I will--weep. On what day shall it be?
+Let me see: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday,
+Sunday, I'm engaged: but Sunday is only a party at home; I can put
+that off:--then Sunday let it be."
+
+"Sunday, I am unluckily engaged, my dear," said her husband.
+
+"Engaged? Oh, nonsense! You have no engagements of any consequence:
+and when I put off _my_ party on purpose to have the pleasure of
+hearing you read, oblige me, my love, for once."
+
+"My love, to oblige you, I will do any thing."
+
+Griselda cast a triumphant glance at Mrs. Nettleby, which said as
+plainly as a look could say, "You see how I rule him!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+  "Feels every vanity in fondness lost,
+  And asks no power but that of pleasing most."
+
+
+On Sunday evening a large company assembled at our heroine's summons.
+They were all seated in due form: the reader with his book open, and
+waiting for the arrival of the bride, for whom a conspicuous place was
+destined, where the spectators, and especially Mrs. Nettleby and our
+Griselda, could enjoy a full view of her countenance.
+
+"Lord bless me! it is getting late: I am afraid--I am really afraid
+Mrs. Granby will not come."
+
+The ladies had time to discuss who and what she was: as she had lived
+in the country, few of them had seen, or could tell any thing about
+her; but our heroine circulated her opinion in whispers, and every
+one was prepared to laugh at _the pattern wife, the original Griselda
+revived_, as Mrs. Nettleby sarcastically called her.
+
+Mrs. Granby was announced. The buzz was hushed and the titter
+suppressed; affected gravity appeared in every countenance, and
+all eyes turned with malicious curiosity upon the bride as she
+entered.--The timidity of Emma's first appearance was so free both
+from awkwardness and affectation, that it interested at least every
+gentleman present in her favour. Surrounded by strangers, but quite
+unsuspicious that they were prepared to consider her as an object of
+ridicule or satire, she won her way to the lady of the house, to whom
+she addressed herself as to a friend.
+
+"Is not she quite a different person from what you had expected?"
+whispered one of the ladies to her neighbour, as Emma passed. Her
+manner seemed to solicit indulgence rather than to provoke envy. She
+was very sorry to find that the company had been waiting for her; she
+had been detained by the sudden illness of Mr. Granby's mother.
+
+Whilst Emma was making this apology, some of the audience observed
+that she had a remarkably sweet voice; others discovered that there
+was something extremely feminine in her person. A gentleman, who saw
+that she was distressed at the idea of being seated in the conspicuous
+place to which she was destined by the lady of the house, got up, and
+offered his seat, which she most thankfully accepted.
+
+"Oh, my dear Mrs. Granby, I cannot possibly allow you to sit there,"
+cried the lady of the house. "You must have the honours of the day,"
+added she, seizing Emma's hand to conduct her to the _place of
+honour_.
+
+"Pray excuse me," said Mrs. Granby, "honours are so little suited to
+me: I am perfectly well here."
+
+"But with that window _at your back_, my dear madam!" said Mrs.
+Nettleby.
+
+"I do not feel the slightest breath of air. But perhaps I crowd these
+ladies."
+
+"Not in the least, not in the least," said the ladies, who were on
+each side of her: they were won by the irresistible gentleness of
+Emma's manner. Our heroine was vexed to be obliged to give up her
+point; and relinquishing Mrs. Granby's hand, returned to her own seat,
+and said in a harsh tone to her husband,
+
+"Well! my dear, if we are to have any reading to-night, you had better
+begin."
+
+The reading began; and Emma was so completely absorbed, that she did
+not perceive that most of the audience were intent upon her. Those who
+act any part may be ridiculous in the playing it, but those are safe
+from the utmost malignity of criticism who are perfectly unconscious
+that they have any part to perform. Emma had been abashed at her first
+appearance in an assembly of strangers, and concerned by the idea that
+she had kept them waiting; but as soon as this embarrassment passed
+over, her manners resumed their natural ease--a degree of ease which
+surprised her judges, and which arose from the persuasion that she
+was not of sufficient consequence to attract attention. Our heroine
+was provoked by the sight of this insolent tranquillity, and was
+determined that it should not long continue. The reader came to the
+promise which Gualtherus exacts from his bride:--
+
+  "Swear that with ready will, and honest heart,
+  Like or dislike, without regret or art,
+  In presence or alone, by night or day,
+  All that I will, you fail not to obey;
+  All I intend to forward, that you seek,
+  Nor ever once object to what I speak.
+  Nor yet in part alone my wish fulfil;
+  Nor though you do it, do it with ill-will;
+  Nor with a forced compliance half refuse;
+  And acting duty, all the merit lose.
+  To strict obedience add a willing grace,
+  And let your soul be painted in your face;
+  No reasons given, and no pretences sought,
+  To swerve in deed or word, in look or thought."
+
+"Well, ladies!" cried the modern Griselda, "what do you think of
+this?"
+
+Shrill exclamations of various vehemence expressed with one accord the
+sentiments, or rather feelings, of almost all the married ladies who
+were present.
+
+"Abominable! Intolerable! Insufferable! Horrible! I would rather have
+seen the man perish at my feet; I would rather have died: I would have
+remained unmarried all my life rather than have submitted to such
+terms."
+
+A few young unmarried ladies who had not spoken, or who had not
+been heard to speak in the din of tongues, were appealed to by the
+gentlemen next them. They could not be prevailed upon to pronounce any
+distinct opinion: they qualified, and hesitated, and softened, and
+equivocated, and "were not positively able to judge, for really they
+had never thought upon the subject."
+
+Upon the whole, however, it was evident that they did not betray that
+natural horror which pervaded the more experienced matrons. All agreed
+that the terms were "hard terms," and ill expressed: some added, that
+only love could persuade a woman to submit to them: and some still
+more sentimental maidens, in a lower voice, were understood to say,
+that as nothing is impossible to Cupid, they might be induced to
+such submission; but that it must be by a degree of love which they
+solemnly declared they had never felt or could imagine as yet.
+
+"For my part," cried the modern Griselda, "I would sooner have lived
+an old maid to the days of Methusalem than have been so mean as to
+have married any man on earth upon such terms. But I know there are
+people who can never think 'marriage dear-bought.' My dear Mrs.
+Granby, we have not yet heard your opinion, and we should have had
+yours first, as bride."
+
+"I forgot that I was bride," said Emma.
+
+"Forgot! Is it possible?" cried Mrs. Nettleby: "now this is an excess
+of modesty of which I have no notion."
+
+"But for which Mr. Granby," continued our heroine, turning to Mr.
+Granby, who at this moment entered the room, "ought to make his best
+bow. Here is your lady, sir, who has just assured us that she forgot
+she was a bride: bow to this exquisite humility."
+
+"Exquisite vanity!" cried Mr. Granby; "she knows
+
+  "'How much the wife is dearer than the bride.'"
+
+"She will be a singularly happy woman if she knows _that_ this time
+twelvemonth," replied our heroine, darting a reproachful look at her
+silent husband. "In the mean time, do let us hear Mrs. Granby speak
+for herself; I must have her opinion of Griselda's promise to obey her
+lord, right or wrong, in all things, no reasons given, to submit in
+deed, and word, and look, and thought. If Mrs. Granby tells us that is
+her theory, we must all reform our practice."
+
+Every eye was fixed upon Emma, and every ear was impatient for her
+answer.
+
+"I should never have imagined," said she, smiling, "that any person's
+practice could be influenced by my theory, especially as I have no
+theory."
+
+"No more humility, my dear; if you have no theory, you have an opinion
+of your own, I hope, and we must have a distinct answer to this simple
+question: Would you have made the promise that was required from
+Griselda?"
+
+"No," answered Emma; "distinctly no; for I could never have loved or
+esteemed the man who required such a promise."
+
+Disconcerted by this answer, which was the very reverse of what she
+expected; amazed at the modest self-possession with which the timid
+Emma spoke, and vexed by the symptoms of approbation which Emma's
+words and voice excited, our heroine called upon her husband, in a
+more than usually authoritative tone, and bid him--read on.
+
+He obeyed. Emma became again absorbed in the story, and her
+countenance showed how much she felt all its beauties, and all its
+pathos. Emma did all she could to repress her feelings; and our
+heroine all she could to make her and them ridiculous. But in this
+attempt she was unsuccessful; for many of the spectators, who at her
+instigation began by watching Emma's countenance to find subject for
+ridicule, ended by sympathizing with her unaffected sensibility.
+
+When the tale was ended, the modern Griselda, who was determined
+to oppose as strongly as possible the charms of spirit to those of
+sensibility, burst furiously forth into an invective against the
+meanness of her namesake, and the tyranny of the odious Gualtherus.
+
+"_Could_ you have forgiven him, Mrs. Granby? could you have forgiven
+the monster?"
+
+"He repented," said Emma; "and does not a penitent cease to be a
+monster?"
+
+"Oh, I never, never would have forgiven him, penitent or not penitent;
+I would not have forgiven him such sins."
+
+"I would not have put it into his power to commit them," said Emma.
+
+"I confess the story never touched me in the least," cried our
+heroine.
+
+"Perhaps for the same reason that Petrarch's friend said that he read
+it unmoved," replied Mrs. Granby: "because he could not believe that
+such a woman as Griselda ever existed."
+
+"No, no, not for that reason: I believe many such poor, meek,
+mean-spirited creatures exist."
+
+Emma was at length wakened to the perception of her friend's envy and
+jealousy; but--
+
+  "She mild forgave the failing of her sex."
+
+"I cannot admire the original Griselda, or any of her imitators,"
+continued our heroine.
+
+"There is no great danger of her finding imitators in these days,"
+said Mr. Granby. "Had Chaucer lived in our enlightened times, he would
+doubtless have drawn a very different character."
+
+The modern Griselda looked "fierce as ten furies." Emma softened her
+husband's observation by adding, "that allowance should certainly be
+made for poor Chaucer, if we consider the times in which he wrote.
+The situation and understandings of women have been so much improved
+since his days. Women were then slaves, now they are free. My dear,"
+whispered she to her husband, "your mother is not well; shall we go
+home?"
+
+Emma left the room; and even Mrs. Nettleby, after she was gone, said,
+"Really she is not ugly when she blushes."
+
+"No woman is ugly when she blushes," replied our heroine; "but,
+unluckily, a woman cannot _always_ blush."
+
+Finding that her attempt to make Emma ridiculous had failed, and that
+it had really placed Mrs. Granby's understanding, manners, and temper
+in a most advantageous and amiable light, Griselda was mortified
+beyond measure. She could scarcely bear to hear Emma's name mentioned.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+  "She that can please, is certain to persuade,
+  To-day is lov'd, to-morrow is obey'd."
+
+
+A few days after the reading party, Griselda was invited to spend an
+evening at Mrs. Granby's.
+
+"I shall not go," said she, throwing down the card with an air of
+disdain.
+
+"I shall go," said her husband, calmly.
+
+"You will go, my dear!" cried she, amazed. "You will go without _me_?"
+
+"Not without you, if you will be so kind as to go with me, my love,"
+said he.
+
+"It is quite out of my power," said she: "I am engaged to my friend,
+Mrs. Nettleby."
+
+"Very well, my dear," said he; "do as you please."
+
+"Certainly I shall. And I am surprised, my dear, that you do not go to
+see Mr. John Nettleby."
+
+"I have no desire to see him, my dear. He is, as I have often heard
+you say, an obstinate fool. He is a man I dislike particularly."
+
+"Very possibly; but you ought to go to see him notwithstanding."
+
+"Why so, my dear?"
+
+"Because he is married to a woman I like. If you had any regard for
+me, your own feelings would have saved you the trouble of asking that
+question."
+
+"But, my dear, should not your regard for me also suggest to you the
+propriety of keeping up an acquaintance with Mrs. Granby, who is
+married to a man I like, and who is not herself an obstinate fool?"
+
+"I shall not enter into any discussion upon the subject," replied our
+heroine; for this was one of the cases where she made it a rule never
+to reason. "I can only say that I have my own opinion, and that I beg
+to be excused from keeping up any acquaintance whatever with Mrs.
+Granby."
+
+"And I beg to be excused from keeping up any acquaintance whatever
+with Mr. Nettleby," replied her husband.
+
+"Good Heavens!" cried she, raising herself upon the sofa, on which
+she had been reclining, and fixing her eyes upon her husband, with
+unfeigned astonishment: "I do not know you this morning, my dear."
+
+"Possibly not, my dear," replied he; "for hitherto you have seen only
+your lover; now you see your husband."
+
+Never did metamorphosis excite more astonishment. The lady was utterly
+unconscious that she had had any part in producing it--that she had
+herself dissolved the spell. She raged, she raved, she reasoned, in
+vain. Her point she could not compass. Her cruel husband persisted
+in his determination not to go to see Mr. John Nettleby. Absolutely
+astounded, she was silent. There was a truce for some hours. She
+renewed the attack in the evening, and ceased not hostilities for
+three succeeding days and nights, in reasonable hopes of wearying the
+enemy, still without success.
+
+The morning rose, the great, the important day, which was to decide
+the fate of the visit. The contending parties met as usual at
+breakfast; they seemed mutually afraid of each other, and stood at
+bay. There was a forced calm in the gentleman's demeanour--treacherous
+smiles played upon the lady's countenance. He seemed cautious to
+prolong the suspension of hostilities--she fond to anticipate the
+victory. The name of Mrs. Granby, or of Mr. John Nettleby, was not
+uttered by either party, nor did either inquire where the other was
+to spend the evening. At dinner they met again, and preserved on this
+delicate subject a truly diplomatic silence; whilst on the topics
+foreign to their thoughts, they talked with admirable fluency:
+actuated by as sincere desire as ever was felt by negotiating
+politicians to establish peace on the broadest basis, they were,
+_with the most perfect consideration_, each other's devoted, and most
+obedient humble servants. Candour, however, obliges us to confess,
+that though the deference on the part of the gentleman was the most
+unqualified and praiseworthy, the lady was superior in her inimitable
+air of frank cordiality. The _volto sciolto_ was in her favour, the
+_pensieri stretti_ in his. Any one but an ambassador would have been
+deceived by the husband; any one but a woman would have been duped by
+the wife.
+
+So stood affairs when, after dinner, the high and mighty powers
+separated. The lady retired to her toilette. The gentleman remained
+with his bottle. He drank a glass of wine extraordinary. She stayed
+half an hour more than usual at her mirror. Arrayed for battle, our
+heroine repaired to the drawing-room, which she expected to find
+unoccupied;--the enemy had taken the field.
+
+"Dressed, my dear?" said he.
+
+"Ready, my love!" said she.
+
+"Shall I ring the bell for your carriage, my dear?" said the husband.
+
+"If you please. You go with me, my dear?" said the wife.
+
+"I do not know where you are going, my love."
+
+"To Mrs. Nettleby's of course,--and you?"
+
+"To Mrs. Granby's."
+
+The lightning flashed from Griselda's eyes, ere he had half pronounced
+the words. The lightning flashed without effect.
+
+"To Mrs. Granby's!" cried she, in a thundering tone. "To Mrs.
+Granby's!" echoed he. She fell back on the sofa, and a shower of tears
+ensued. Her husband walked up and down the room, rang again for the
+carriage, ordered it in the tone of a master. Then hummed a tune. The
+fair one sobbed: he continued to sing, but was out in the time. The
+lady's sobs grew alarming, and threatened hysterics. He threw open
+the window, and approached the sofa on which she lay. She, half
+recovering, unclasped one bracelet; in haste to get the other off, he
+broke it. The footman came in to announce that the carriage was at the
+door. She relapsed, and seemed in danger of suffocation from her pearl
+necklace, which she made a faint effort to loosen from her neck.
+
+"Send your lady's woman instantly," cried Griselda's husband to the
+footman.
+
+Our heroine made another attempt to untie her necklace, and looked
+up towards her husband with supplicating eyes. His hands trembled;
+he entangled the strings. It would have been all over with him if
+the maid had not at this instant come to his assistance. To her he
+resigned his perilous post; retreated precipitately; and before the
+enemy's forces could rally, gained his carriage, and carried his
+point.
+
+"To Mr. Granby's!" cried he, triumphantly. Arrived there, he hurried
+to Mr. Granby's room.
+
+"Another such victory," cried he, throwing himself into an arm-chair,
+"another such victory, and I am undone."
+
+He related all that had just passed between him and his wife.
+
+"Another such combat," said his friend, "and you are at peace for
+life."
+
+We hope that our readers will not, from this speech, be induced to
+consider Mr. Granby as an instigator of quarrels between man and wife;
+or, according to the plebeian but expressive apophthegm, one who would
+come between the bark and the tree. On the contrary, he was most
+desirous to secure his friend's domestic happiness; and, if possible,
+to prevent the bad effects which were likely to ensue from excessive
+indulgence, and inordinate love of dominion. He had a high respect for
+our heroine's powers, and thought that they wanted only to be well
+managed. The same force which, ill-directed, bursts the engine, and
+scatters destruction, obedient to the master-hand, answers a thousand
+useful purposes, and works with easy, smooth, and graceful regularity.
+Griselda's husband, or, as he now deserves to have his name mentioned,
+Mr. Bolingbroke, roused by his friend's representations, and perhaps
+by a sense of approaching danger, resolved to assume the guidance of
+his wife, or at least--of himself. In opposition to his sovereign
+lady's will, he actually spent this evening as he pleased.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+  "E sol quei giorni io mi vidi contenta,
+  Ch'averla compiaciuto mi trovai."
+
+
+"You are a great deal more courageous than I am, my dear," said Emma
+to her husband, after Mr. Bolingbroke had left them. "I should be very
+much afraid of interfering between your friend and his wife."
+
+"What is friendship," said Mr. Granby, "if it will run no risks? I
+must run the hazard of being called a mischief-maker."
+
+"That is not the danger of which I was thinking," said Emma; "though I
+confess that I should be weak enough to fear that a little: but what I
+meant to express was an apprehension of our doing harm where we most
+wish to do good."
+
+"Do you, my dear Emma, think Griselda incorrigible?"
+
+"No, indeed," cried Emma, with anxious emphasis; "far from it. But
+without thinking a person incorrigible, may we not dislike the idea
+of inflicting correction? I should be very sorry to be the means of
+giving Griselda any pain; she was my friend when we were children; I
+have a real regard for her, and if she does not now seem disposed to
+love me, that must be my fault, not hers: or if it is not my fault,
+call it my misfortune. At all events, I have no right to force myself
+upon her acquaintance. She prefers Mrs. Nettleby; I have not the false
+humility to say, that I think Mrs. Nettleby will prove as safe or as
+good a friend as I hope I should he. But of this Mrs. Bolingbroke has
+a right to judge. And I am sure, far from resenting her resolution to
+avoid my acquaintance, my only feeling about it, at this instant, is
+the dread that it should continue to be a matter of dispute between
+her and her husband."
+
+"If Mr. Bolingbroke insisted, or if I advised him to insist upon his
+wife's coming here, when she does not like it," said Mr. Granby,
+"I should act absurdly, and he would act unjustly; but all that he
+requires is equality of rights, and the liberty of going where _he_
+pleases. She refuses to come to see you: he refuses to go to see Mr.
+John Nettleby. Which has the best of the battle?"
+
+Emma thought it would be best if there were no battle; and observed,
+that refusals and reprisals would only irritate the parties, whose
+interest and happiness it was to be pacified and to agree. She said,
+that if Mr. Bolingbroke, instead of opposing his will to that of his
+wife, which, in fact, was only conquering force by force, would speak
+reasonably to her, probably she might be induced to yield, or to
+command her temper. Mrs. Granby suggested, that a compromise, founded
+on an offer of mutual sacrifice and mutual compliance, might be
+obtained. That Mr. Bolingbroke might promise to give up some of his
+time to the man he disliked, upon condition that Griselda should
+submit to the society of a woman to whom she had an aversion.
+
+"If she consented to this," said Emma, "I would do my best to make her
+like me; or at least to make her time pass agreeably at our house: her
+liking me is a matter of no manner of consequence."
+
+Emma was capable of putting herself entirely out of the question,
+when the interest of others was at stake; her whole desire was to
+conciliate, and all her thoughts were intent upon making her friends
+happy. She seemed to live in them more than in herself, and from
+sympathy arose the greatest pleasure and pain of her existence. Her
+sympathy was not of that useless kind which is called forth only by
+the elegant fictitious sorrows of a heroine of romance; hers was ready
+for all the occasions of real life; nor was it to be easily checked
+by the imperfections of those to whom she could be of service. At
+this moment, when she perceived that her husband was disgusted by
+Griselda's caprice, she said all she could think of in her favour: she
+recollected every anecdote of Griselda's childhood, which showed an
+amiable disposition; and argued, that it was not probable her temper
+should have entirely changed in a few years. Emma's quick-sighted
+good-nature could discern the least portion of merit, where others
+could find only faults; as certain experienced eyes can discover
+grains of gold in the sands, which the ignorant have searched, and
+abandoned as useless. In consequence of Emma's advice--for who would
+reject good advice, offered with so much gentleness?--Mr. Granby wrote
+a note to Mr. Bolingbroke, to recommend the compromise which she had
+suggested. Upon his return home, Mr. Bolingbroke was informed that
+his lady had gone to bed much indisposed; he spent a restless night,
+notwithstanding all his newly-acquired magnanimity. He was much
+relieved in the morning by his friend's note, and blessed Emma for
+proposing the compromise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+  "Each widow to her secret friend alone
+  Whisper'd;--thus treated, he had had his own."
+
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke waited with impatience for Griselda's appearance the
+next morning; but he waited in vain: the lady breakfasted in her own
+apartment, and for two hours afterwards remained in close consultation
+with Mrs. Nettleby, whom she had summoned the preceding night by the
+following note:
+
+    "I have been prevented from spending this evening with you, my
+    dearest Mrs. Nettleby, by the strangest conduct imaginable: am
+    sure you will not believe it when I tell it to you. Come to me, I
+    conjure you, as early to-morrow as you possibly can, that I may
+    explain to you all that has passed, and consult as to the future.
+    My dearest friend, I never was so much in want of an adviser. Ever
+    yours,
+
+    "GRISELDA."
+
+At this consultation, Mrs. Nettleby expressed the utmost astonishment
+at Mr. Bolingbroke's strange conduct, and assured Griselda, that if
+she did not exert herself, all was lost, and she must give up the hope
+of ever having her own way again as long as she lived.
+
+"My dear," said she, "I have had some experience in these things; a
+wife must be either a tyrant or a slave: make your choice; now is your
+time."
+
+"But I never knew him say or do any thing unkind before," said
+Griselda.
+
+"Then the first offence should be properly resented. If he finds you
+forgiving, he will become encroaching; 'tis the nature of man, depend
+upon it."
+
+"He always yielded to me till now," said Griselda; "but even when I
+was ready to go into fits, he left me, and what could I do then?"
+
+"You astonish me beyond expression! you who have every
+advantage--youth, wit, accomplishments, beauty! My dear, if _you_
+cannot keep a husband's heart, who can ever hope to succeed?"
+
+"Oh! as to his heart, I have no doubts of his heart, to do him
+justice," said Griselda; "I know he loves me--passionately loves me."
+
+"And yet you cannot manage him! And you expect me to pity you? Bless
+me, if I had half your advantages, what I would make of them! But if
+you like to be a tame wife, my dear--if you are resolved upon it, tell
+me so at once, and I will hold my tongue."
+
+"I do not know well what I am resolved upon," said Griselda, leaning
+her head in a melancholy posture upon her hand: "I am vexed, out of
+spirits, and out of sorts."
+
+"Out of sorts! I am not surprised at that: but out of spirits! My dear
+creature, you who have every thing to put you in spirits. I am never
+so much _myself_ as when I have a quarrel to fight out."
+
+"I cannot say that is the case with me, unless where I am sure of the
+victory."
+
+"And it is your own fault if you are not always sure of it."
+
+"I thought so till last night; but I assure you last night he showed
+such a spirit!"
+
+"Break that spirit, my dear, break it, or else it will break your
+heart."
+
+"The alternative is terrible," said Griselda, "and more terrible
+perhaps than you could imagine, or I either till now: for would you
+believe it, I never loved him in my life half so well as I did last
+night in the midst of my anger, and when he was doing every thing to
+provoke me?"
+
+"Very natural, my dear; because you saw him behave with spirit, and
+you love spirit; so does every woman; so does every body; show him
+that you have spirit too, and he will be as angry as you were, and
+love you as well in the midst of his anger, whilst you are doing every
+thing to provoke him."
+
+Griselda appeared determined to take this good advice one moment, and
+the next hesitated.
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Nettleby, did you always find this succeed
+yourself?"
+
+"Yes, always."
+
+This lady had the reputation indeed of having broken the heart of her
+first husband; how she would manage her second was yet to be seen,
+as her honeymoon was but just over. The pure love of mischief was
+not her only motive in the advice which she gave to our heroine; she
+had, like most people, mixed motives for her conduct. She disliked
+Mr. Bolingbroke, because he disliked her; yet she wished that an
+acquaintance should be kept up between him and her husband, because
+Mr. Bolingbroke was a man of fortune and fashion.
+
+Griselda promised that she would behave with that proper spirit,
+which was to make her at once amiable and victorious; and the friends
+parted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+  "With patient, meek, submissive mind,
+  To her hard fate resign'd."
+
+POTTER'S ÆSCHYLUS
+
+
+Left to her own good genius, Griselda reflected that novelty has the
+most powerful effect upon the heart of man. In all the variations of
+her humour, her husband had never yet seen her in the sullen mood; and
+in this she now sat prepared to receive him. He came with an earnest
+desire to speak to her in the kindest and most reasonable manner. He
+began by saying how much it had cost him to give her one moment's
+uneasiness:--his voice, his look, were those of truth and love.
+
+Unmoved, Griselda, without raising her leaden eyes, answered in a cold
+voice, "I am very sorry that you should have felt _any_ concern upon
+my account."
+
+"_Any_! my love; you do not know how _much_ I have felt this night."
+
+She looked upon him with civil disbelief; and replied, "that she was
+sure she ought to be much obliged to him."
+
+This frigid politeness repressed his affection: he was silent for some
+moments.
+
+"My dear Griselda," said he, "this is not the way in which we should
+live together; we who have every thing that can make us contented: do
+not let us throw away our happiness for trifles not worth thinking
+of."
+
+"If we are not happy, it is not my fault," said Griselda.
+
+"We will not inquire whose fault it is, my dear; let the blame rest
+upon me: let the past be forgotten; let us look towards the future. In
+future, let us avoid childish altercations, and live like reasonable
+creatures. I have the highest opinion of your sex in general, and of
+you in particular; I wish to live with my wife as my equal, my friend;
+I do not desire that my will should govern: where our inclinations
+differ, let reason decide between us; or where it is a matter not
+worth reasoning about, let us alternately yield to one another." He
+paused.
+
+"I do not desire or expect that you should ever henceforward yield to
+my wishes either in trifles or in matters of consequence," replied
+Griselda, with provoking meekness; "you have taught me my duty: the
+duty of a wife is to submit; and submit I hope I shall in future,
+without reply or reasoning, to your sovereign will and pleasure."
+
+"Nay, my dear," said he, "do not treat me as a brutal tyrant, when I
+wish to do every thing in my power to make you happy. Use your own
+excellent understanding, and I shall always, I hope, be inclined to
+yield to your reasons."
+
+"I shall never trouble you with my reasons; I shall never use my own
+understanding in the least: I know that men cannot bear understanding
+in women; I shall always, as it is my duty, submit to your better
+judgment."
+
+"But, my love, I do not require duty from you; this sort of blind
+submission would be mortifying, instead of gratifying to me, from a
+wife."
+
+"I do not know what a wife can do to satisfy a husband, if submitting
+in every thing be not sufficient."
+
+"I say it would be too much for me, my dearest love!"
+
+"I can do nothing but submit," repeated the perverse Griselda, with a
+most provoking immoveable aspect of humility.
+
+"Why _will_ you not understand me, my dear?" cried her husband.
+
+"It is not my fault if I cannot understand you, my dear: I do not
+pretend to have your understanding," said the fair politician,
+affecting weakness to gain her point; like those artful candidates for
+papal dominion, who used to affect decrepitude and imbecility, till
+they secured at once absolute power and infallibility.
+
+"I know my abilities are quite inferior to yours, my dear," said
+Griselda; "but I thought it was sufficient for a woman to know how to
+obey; I can do no more."
+
+Fretted beyond his patience, her husband walked up and down the room
+greatly agitated, whilst she sat content and secure in tranquil
+obstinacy.
+
+"You are enough to provoke the patience of Job, my dear," cried her
+husband; "you'll break my heart."
+
+"I am sorry for it, my dear; but if you will only tell me what I can
+do more to please you, I will do it."
+
+"Then, my love," cried he, taking hold of her white hand, which hung
+in a lifeless attitude over the arm of the couch, "be happy, I conjure
+you! all I ask of you is to be happy."
+
+"That is out of my power," said she, mildly, suffering her husband to
+keep her hand, as if it was an act of duty to submit to his caresses.
+He resigned her hand; her countenance never varied; if she had been
+slave to the most despotic sultan of the East, she could not have
+shown more utter submission than she displayed to this most indulgent
+European "husband lover."
+
+Unable to command his temper, or to conceal how much he was hurt, he
+rose and said, "I will leave you for the present, my dear; some time
+when you are better disposed to converse with me, I will return."
+
+"Whenever you please, sir; all times are alike to me: whenever you are
+at leisure, I can have no choice."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+  "And acting duty all the merit lose."
+
+
+Some hours afterwards, hoping to find his sultana in a better humour,
+Mr. Bolingbroke returned; but no sooner did he approach the sofa on
+which she was still seated, than she again seemed to turn into stone,
+like the Princess Rhezzia, in the Persian Tales; who was blooming and
+charming, except when her husband entered the room. The unfortunate
+Princess Rhezzia loved her husband tenderly, but was doomed to this
+fate by a vile enchanter. If she was more to be pitied for being
+subject to involuntary metamorphosis, our heroine is surely more to
+be admired, for the constancy with which she endured a self-inflicted
+penance; a penance calculated to render her odious in the eyes of her
+husband.
+
+"My dear," said this most patient of men, "I am sorry to renew any
+ideas that will be disagreeable to you; I will mention the subject but
+once more, and then let it be forgotten for ever--our foolish dispute
+about Mr. Nettleby. Let us compromise the matter. I will bear Mr. John
+Nettleby for your sake, if you will bear Mrs. Granby for mine. I will
+go to see Mr. Nettleby to-morrow, if you will come the day afterwards
+with me to Mr. Granby's. Where husband and wife do not agree in their
+wishes, it is reasonable that each should yield a little of their will
+to the other. I hope this compromise will satisfy you, my dear."
+
+"It does not become a wife to enter into any compromise with her
+husband; she has nothing to do but to obey, as soon as he signifies
+his pleasure. I shall go to Mr. Granby's on Tuesday, as you command."
+
+"Command! my love."
+
+"As you--whatever you please to call it."
+
+"But are you satisfied with this arrangement, my dear?"
+
+"It is no manner of consequence whether I am or not."
+
+"To me, you know, it is of the greatest: you must be sensible that
+my sincere wish is to make you happy: I give you some proof of it
+by consenting to keep up an acquaintance with a man whose company I
+dislike."
+
+"I am much obliged to you, my dear; but as to your going to see Mr.
+John Nettleby, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me; I only
+just mentioned it as a thing of course; I beg you will not do it on my
+account: I hope you will do whatever you think best and what pleases
+yourself, upon this and every other occasion. I shall never more
+presume to offer my advice."
+
+Nothing more could be obtained from the submissive wife; she went to
+Mr. Granby's; she was all duty, for she knew the show of it was the
+most provoking thing upon earth to a husband, at least to such a
+husband as hers. She therefore persisted in this line of conduct, till
+she made her victim at last exclaim--
+
+  "I love thee and hate thee, but if I can tell
+    The cause of my love and my hate, may I die.
+  I can feel it, alas! I can feel it too well,
+    That I love thee and hate thee, but cannot tell why."
+
+His fair one was much flattered by this confession; she triumphed in
+having excited "this contrariety of feelings;" nor did she foresee
+the possibility of her husband's recollecting that stanza which the
+school-boy, more philosophical than the poet, applies to his tyrant.
+
+Whilst our heroine was thus acting to perfection the part of a dutiful
+wife, Mrs. Nettleby was seconding her to the best of her abilities,
+and announcing her amongst all their acquaintance, in the interesting
+character of--"a woman that is very much to be pitied."
+
+"Poor Mrs. Bolingbroke!--Don't you think, ma'am, she is very much
+changed since her marriage?--Quite fallen away!--and all her fine
+spirits, what are become of them?--It really grieves my heart to see
+her.--Oh, she is a very unhappy woman!! really to be pitied, if you
+knew but all."
+
+Then a significant nod, or a melancholy mysterious look, set the
+imagination of the company at work; or, if this did not succeed, a
+whisper in plain terms pronounced Mr. Bolingbroke "a sad sort of
+husband, a very odd-tempered man, and, in short, a terrible tyrant;
+though nobody would guess it, who only saw him in company: but men are
+such deceivers!"
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke soon found that all his wishes were thwarted, and all
+his hopes of happiness crossed, by the straws which this evil-minded
+dame contrived to throw in his way. Her influence over his wife he saw
+increased every hour: though they visited each other every day, these
+ladies could never meet without having some important secrets to
+impart, and conspiracies were to be performed in private, at which a
+husband could not be permitted to assist. Then notes without number
+were to pass continually, and these were to be thrown hastily into
+the fire at the approach of the enemy. Mr. Bolingbroke determined to
+break this league, which seemed to be more a league of hatred than
+of amity.--The London winter was now over, and, taking advantage of
+the continuance of his wife's perverse fit of duty and unqualified
+submission, he one day requested her to accompany him into the
+country, to spend a few weeks with his friend Mr. Granby, at his
+charming place in Devonshire. The part of a wife was to obey, and
+Griselda was bound to support her character. She resolved, however, to
+make her obedience cost her lord as dear as possible, and she promised
+herself that this party of pleasure should become a party of pain. She
+and her lord were to travel in the same carriage with Mr. and Mrs.
+Granby. Griselda had only time, before she set off, to write a hasty
+billet to Mrs. Nettleby, to inform her of these intentions, and to bid
+her adieu till better times. Mrs. Nettleby sincerely regretted this
+interruption of their hourly correspondence; for she was deprived not
+only of the pleasure of hearing, but of making matrimonial complaints.
+She had now been married two months; and her fool began to grow
+restive; no animal on earth is more restive than a fool: but,
+confident that Mrs. Nettleby will hold the bridle with a strong hand,
+we leave her to pull against his hard mouth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+  "Playzir ne l'est qu'autant qu'on le partage."
+
+
+We pass over the infinite variety of petty torments, which our heroine
+contrived to inflict upon her fellow-travellers during her journey
+down to Devonshire. Inns, food, beds, carriage, horses, baggage,
+roads, prospect, hill, dale, sun, wind, dust, rain, earth, air, fire,
+and water, all afforded her matter of complaint. It was astonishing
+that Emma discovered none of these inconveniences; but, as fast as
+they were complained of, she amused herself in trying to obviate them.
+
+Lord Kames has observed, that a power to recall at will pleasing
+objects would be a more valuable gift to any mortal than ever was
+bestowed in a fairy tale. With this power Emma was endowed in the
+highest perfection; and as fast as our heroine recollected some evil
+that had happened, or was likely to happen, Emma raised the opposite
+idea of some good, past, present, or future; so that it was scarcely
+possible even for the spirit of contradiction personified to resist
+the magic of her good-humour.
+
+No sooner did she arrive at her own house, than she contrived a
+variety of ways of showing attention and kindness to her guest; and
+when all this was received with sullen indifference, or merely
+as tributes due to superiority, Emma was not discouraged in her
+benevolence, but, instead of being offended, seemed to pity her friend
+for "having had her temper so unhappily spoiled."
+
+"Griselda is so handsome," said Mrs. Granby one day, in her defence,
+"she has such talents--she has been so much admired, worshipped, and
+indulged--that it would be wonderful if she were not a little spoiled.
+I dare say that, if I had been in her place, my brain would never
+have stood the intoxication. Who can measure their strength, or their
+weakness, till they are tried? Another thing should be considered;
+Griselda excites envy, and though she may not have more faults than
+her neighbours, they are more noticed, because they are in the full
+light of prosperity. What a number of motes swarm in a single ray of
+light, coming through the shutter of a darkened room! There are not
+more motes in that spot than in any other part of the room, but the
+sun-beams show them more distinctly. The dust that lives in snug
+obscurity should consider this, and have mercy upon its fellow dust."
+
+In Emma's kindness there was none of the parade of goodness; she
+seemed to follow her natural disposition; and, as Griselda once said
+of her, to be good because she could not help it. She required neither
+praise nor thanks for any thing that she did; and, provided her
+friends were happy, she was satisfied, without ever wishing to be
+admired as the cause of that happiness. Her powers of pleasing were
+chiefly remarkable for lasting longer than others, and the secret of
+their permanence was not easily guessed, because it was so simple.
+It depended merely on the equability of her humour. It is said, that
+there is nothing marvellous in the colours of those Egyptian monuments
+which have been the admiration of ages; the secret of their duration
+is supposed to depend simply on the fineness of the climate and
+invariability of the temperature.--But
+
+  "Griselda will admit no wandering muse."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke was by this time tired of continuing in one mood,
+even though it was the sullen; and her genius was cramped by the
+constraint of affected submission. She recovered her charming spirits
+soon after she came into the country, and for a short time no mortal
+mixture of earth's mould could be more agreeable. She called forth
+every charm; she was all gaiety, wit, and smiles; she poured light and
+life upon conversation.
+
+As the Marquis de Chastellux said of some fascinating fair one--"She
+had no expression without grace, and no grace without expression."
+It was delightful to our heroine to hear it said, "How charming Mrs.
+Bolingbroke can be when she pleases; when she wishes to captivate, how
+irresistible!--Who can equal Mrs. Bolingbroke when she is in one of
+her _good days_?"
+
+The triumph of eclipsing Mrs. Granby would have been delightful, but
+that Emma seemed to feel no mortification from being thrown into the
+shade; she seemed to enjoy her friend's success so sincerely, that
+it was impossible to consider her as a rival. She had so carefully
+avoided noticing any little disagreement or coolness between Mr. and
+Mrs. Bolingbroke, that it might have been doubted whether she attended
+to their mutual conduct; but the obvious delight she took in seeing
+them again on good terms with each other proved that she was not
+deficient in penetration. She appeared to see only what others desired
+that she should see, upon these delicate occasions, where voluntary
+blindness is not artifice, but prudence. Mr. Bolingbroke was now
+enchanted with Griselda, and ready to exclaim every instant, "Be ever
+thus!"
+
+Her husband thought he had found a mine of happiness; he began
+to breathe, and to bless his kind stars. He had indeed lighted
+unexpectedly upon a rich vein, but it was soon exhausted, and all
+his farther progress was impeded by certain vapours, dangerous to
+approach. Fatal sweets! which lure the ignorant to destruction, but
+from which the more experienced fly with precipitation.--Our heroine
+was now fully prepared to kill her husband with kindness; she was
+afraid, if he rode, that his horse would throw him; if he walked, that
+he would tire himself; if he sat still, that he must want exercise; if
+he went out, that he would catch cold; if he stayed at home, that he
+was kept a prisoner; if he did not eat, that he was sick; if he did
+eat, that he would be sick;--&c. &c. &c. &c. There was no end to these
+fond fears: he felt that there was something ridiculous in submitting
+to them; and yet to resist in the least was deemed the height
+of unkindness and ingratitude. One night she fell into a fit of
+melancholy, upon his laughing at her fears, that he should kill
+himself, by standing for an instant at an open window, on a fine
+night, to look at a beautiful rising moon. When he endeavoured to
+recover her from her melancholy, it was suddenly converted into
+anger, and, after tears, came a storm of reproaches. Her husband,
+in consideration of the kindness of her original intention, passed
+over her anger, and even for some days refrained from objecting to
+any regimen she prescribed for his health and happiness. But his
+forbearance failed him at length, and he presumed to eat some salad,
+which his wife "knew would disagree with him." She was provoked
+afterwards, because she could not make him allow that it had made him
+ill. She termed this extreme obstinacy; he pleaded that it was simple
+truth. Truth upon some occasions is the most offensive thing that
+can be spoken: the lady was enraged, and, after saying every thing
+provoking that matrimonial spleen could suggest, when he in his turn
+grew warm, she cooled, and said, "You must be sensible, my dear, that
+all I say and do arises from affection."
+
+"Oh! my love," said he, recovering his good-humour, "this
+never-failing opiate soothes my vanity, and lulls my anger; then you
+may govern me as you please. Torment me to death,--I cannot oppose
+you."
+
+"I suppose," said she, "you think me like the vampire-bat, who fans
+his victim to sleep with its wings, whilst she sucks its life-blood."
+
+"Yes, exactly," said he, smiling: "thank you for the apt allusion."
+
+"Very apt, indeed," said she; and a thick gloom overspread her
+countenance. She persisted in taking his assent in sober earnest.
+"Yes," said she, "I find you think all my kindness is treacherous. I
+will show you no more, and then you cannot accuse me of treachery."
+
+It was in vain that he protested he had been only in jest; she was
+convinced that he was in earnest; she was suddenly afflicted with an
+absolute incapacity of distinguishing jest from earnest. She recurred
+to the idea of the vampire-bat, whenever it was convenient to her to
+suppose that her husband thought strange things of her, which never
+entered his brain. This bat proved to him a bird of ill omen, which
+preceded a train of misfortunes, that no mortal foresight could reach,
+and no human prudence avert. His goddess was not to be appeased by any
+propitiatory or expiatory sacrifice.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+  "Short is the period of insulting power,
+  Offended Cupid finds his vengeful hour."
+
+
+Finding it impossible to regain his fair one's favour, Mr. Bolingbroke
+absented himself from her presence. He amused himself for some days
+with his friend Mr. Granby, in attending to a plantation which he was
+laying out in his grounds. Griselda was vexed to perceive that her
+husband could find any amusement independent of her; and she never
+failed, upon his return, to mark her displeasure.
+
+One morning the gentlemen had been so much occupied with their
+plantation, that they did not attend the breakfast-table precisely
+in due time: the contrast in the looks of the two ladies when their
+husbands entered the room was striking. Griselda was provoked with
+Mrs. Granby for being so good-humoured.
+
+"Lord bless me! Mrs. Granby, how you spoil these men," cried she.
+
+All the time the gentlemen were at breakfast, Mrs. Bolingbroke played
+with her tea-spoon, and did not deign to utter a syllable; and
+when the gentlemen left the breakfast-table, and returned to their
+business, Griselda, who was, as our readers may have observed, one
+of the fashionable lollers by profession, established herself upon a
+couch, and began an attack upon Emma, for spoiling her husband in such
+a sad manner. Emma defended herself in a playful way, by answering
+that she could not venture to give unnecessary pain, because she was
+not so sure as some of her friends might be of their power of giving
+pleasure. Mrs. Bolingbroke proceeded to descant upon the difference
+between friendship and love: with some vanity, and some malice, she
+touched upon the difference between the _sorts of sentiments_ which
+different women excited. Passion, she argued, could be kept alive
+only by a certain happy mixture of caprice and grace, coldness and
+ill-humour. She confessed that, for her part, she never could be
+content with the friendship of a husband. Emma, without claiming or
+disclaiming her pretensions to love, quoted the saying of a French
+gentleman:
+
+  "L'Amitié est l'Amour sans ailes."
+
+  "Friendship is Love deprived of his wings."
+
+Griselda had no apprehension that love could ever fly from her, and
+she declared she could not endure him without his wings.
+
+Our heroine did not imagine that any of the little vexations which
+she habitually inflicted upon her husband could really diminish his
+regard. She, never had calculated the prodigious effects which can
+be produced by petty causes constantly acting. Indeed this is a
+consideration, to which the pride or short-sightedness of human nature
+is not prone.
+
+Who in contemplating one of Raphael's finest pictures, fresh from
+the master's hand, ever bestowed a thought upon the wretched little
+worm which works its destruction? Who that beholds the gilded vessel
+gliding in gallant trim--"youth at the prow, and pleasure at the
+helm;" ever at that instant thought of--barnacles? The imagination is
+disgusted by the anti-climax; and of all species of the bathos, the
+sinking from visionary happiness to sober reality is that from which
+human nature is most averse. The wings of the imagination, accustomed
+to ascend, resist the downward flight.
+
+Confident of her charms, heedless of danger, accustomed to think her
+empire absolute and eternal; our heroine, to amuse herself, and to
+display her power to Emma, persisted in her practice of tormenting.
+The ingenuity with which she varied her tortures was certainly
+admirable. After exhausting old ones, she invented new; and when
+the new lost their efficacy, she recurred to the old. She had often
+observed, that the blunt method of contradicting, which some bosom
+friends practise in conversation, is of sovereign power to provoke;
+and this consequently, though unpolite, she disdained not to imitate.
+It had the greater effect, as it was in diametrical opposition to the
+style of Mrs. Granby's conversation; who, in discussions with her
+husband, or her intimate friends, was peculiarly and habitually
+attentive to politeness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+  "Ella biasmandol sempre, e dispregiando
+  Se gli venia piu sempre inimicando."
+
+
+By her judicious and kind interposition, Emma often prevented the
+disagreeable consequences that threatened to ensue from Griselda's
+disputatious habits; but one night it was past her utmost skill to
+avert a violent storm, which arose about the pronunciation of a word.
+It began about eleven o'clock. Just as the family were sitting down
+to supper, seemingly in perfect harmony of spirits, Mr. Bolingbroke
+chanced to say, "I think the wind is rising." (He pronounced the word
+_wi*nd, short_.)
+
+[Transcriber's note: What is printed in the original text as an "i"
+with a breve is rendered here as "i*".]
+
+"_Wi*nd_! my dear," cried his wife, echoing his pronunciation; "do,
+for heaven's sake, call it wi*nd."
+
+The lady sounded this word long.
+
+"Wind! my love," repeated he after her: "I doubt whether that be the
+right pronunciation."
+
+"I am surprised you can doubt it," said she, "for I never heard any
+body call it _wi*nd_ but yourself."
+
+"Did not you, my love? that is very extraordinary: many people, I
+believe, call it _wi*nd_."
+
+"Vulgarians, perhaps!"
+
+"Vulgarians! No, indeed, my dear; very polite, well-informed people."
+
+Griselda, with a look of unutterable contempt, reiterated the word
+_polite_.
+
+"Yes, my dear, _polite_," persisted Mr. Bolingbroke, who was now come
+to such a pass, that he would defend his opinion in opposition to
+hers, stoutly and warmly. "Yes, _polite_, my dear, I maintain it; the
+most _polite_ people pronounce it as I do."
+
+"You may maintain what you please, my dear," said the lady, coolly;
+"but I maintain the contrary."
+
+"Assertion is no proof on either side, I acknowledge," said Mr.
+Bolingbroke, recollecting himself.
+
+"No, in truth," said Mrs. Bolingbroke, "especially such an absurd
+assertion as yours, my dear. Now I will go no farther than Mrs.
+Granby:--Mrs. Granby, did you ever hear any person, who knew how to
+speak, pronounce wi*nd--_wi*nd_?"
+
+"Mrs. Granby, have not you heard it called _wi*nd_ in good company?"
+
+The disputants eagerly approached her at the same instant, and looked
+as if their fortunes or lives depended upon the decision.
+
+"I think I have heard the word pronounced both ways, by well-bred and
+well-informed people," said Mrs. Granby.
+
+"That is saying nothing, my dear," said Mrs. Bolingbroke, pettishly.
+
+"This is saying all I want," said Mr. Bolingbroke, satisfied.
+
+"I would lay any wager, however, that Mr. ----, if he were here,
+would give it in my favour; and I suppose you will not dispute his
+authority."
+
+"I will not dispute the authority of Sheridan's Dictionary," cried Mr.
+Bolingbroke, taking it down from the book-case, and turning over the
+leaves hastily.--"Sheridan gives it for me, my dear," said he, with
+exultation.
+
+"You need not speak with such triumph, my dear, for I do not submit to
+Sheridan."
+
+"No! Will you submit to Kenrick, then?"
+
+"Let us see what he says, and I will then tell you," said the lady.
+"No--Kenrick was not of her opinion, and he was no authority." Walker
+was produced; and this battle of the pronouncing dictionaries seemed
+likely to have no end. Mrs. Granby, when she could be heard, remarked
+that it was difficult to settle any dispute about pronunciation,
+because in fact no reasons could be produced, and no standard appealed
+to but custom, which is perpetually changing; and, as Johnson says,
+"whilst our language is variable with the caprice of all who use it,
+words can no more be ascertained in a dictionary, than a grove in the
+agitation of a storm can be accurately delineated from its picture in
+the water."
+
+The combatants would scarcely allow Emma time to finish this allusion,
+and certainly did not give themselves time to understand it; but
+continued to fight about the word custom, the only word that they had
+heard.
+
+"Yes, custom! custom!" cried they at once, "custom must decide, to
+be sure." Then came _my_ custom and _your_ custom; the custom of the
+stage, the custom of the best company, the custom of the best poets;
+and all these were opposed to one another with increasing rapidity.
+"Good heavens, my dear! did you ever hear Kemble say, 'Rage on, ye
+_wi*nds_!'--Ridiculous!"
+
+"I grant you on the stage it may be winds; but in common conversation
+it is allowable to pronounce it as I do, my dear."
+
+"I appeal to the best poets, Mr. Bolingbroke: nothing can be more
+absurd than your way of--"
+
+"Listen, lively lordlings all!" interrupted Emma, pressing with
+playful vehemence between the disputants; "I must be heard, for I have
+not spoken this half hour, and thus I pronounce--You both are right,
+and both are wrong.
+
+"And now, my good friends, had not we better go to rest?" said she;
+"for it is past midnight."
+
+As they took their candles, and went up stairs, the parties continued
+the battle: Mrs. Bolingbroke brought quotations innumerable to her
+aid, and in a shrill tone repeated,
+
+  "'He might not let even the winds of heaven
+  Visit her face too roughly.'
+
+  ----"'pass by me as the idle wind,
+  Which I respect not.'
+
+  "'And let her down the wind to prey at fortune.'
+
+  "'Blow, thou winter's wind,
+  Thou art not so unkind.'
+
+  "'Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow.'"
+
+Her voice was raised to the highest pitch: it was in vain that her
+husband repeated that he acknowledged the word should be called as
+she pronounced it in poetry; she reiterated her quotations and her
+assertions till at last she knew not what she said; her sense failed
+the more her anger increased. At length Mr. Bolingbroke yielded. Noise
+conquers sometimes where art fails.
+
+"Thus," said he, "the hawk that could not be hoodwinked, was at last
+tamed, by being exposed to the din of a blacksmith's hammer."
+
+Griselda was incensed by this remark, and still more by the allusion,
+which she called the second edition of the vampire-bat. Both husband
+and wife went to sleep mutually displeased, and more disgusted with
+each other than they had ever been since their marriage: and all this
+for the pronunciation of a word!
+
+Early in the morning they were wakened by a messenger, who brought an
+express, informing Mr. Bolingbroke that his uncle was not expected to
+live, and that he wished to see him immediately. Mr. Bolingbroke rose
+instantly; all the time that he was dressing, and preparing in the
+greatest hurry for his journey, Griselda tormented him by disputing
+about the propriety of his going, and ended with, "Promise me to write
+every post, my dear; positively you must."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+  "He sighs for freedom, she for power."
+
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke did not comply with his wife's request, or rather with
+her injunction, to write _every post_: and when he did write, Griselda
+always found some fault with his letters. They were too short, too
+stiff, or too cold, and "very different indeed," she said, "from what
+he used to write before he was married." This was certainly true; and
+absence was not at the present crisis the most advantageous thing
+possible to our heroine. Absence is said to extinguish a weak flame,
+and to increase a strong one. Mr. Bolingbroke's passion for his
+Griselda had, by some means, been of late diminished. He parted from
+her with the disagreeable impression of a dispute upon his mind. As
+he went farther from her he perceived that instead of dragging a
+lengthened chain, his chain grew lighter. His uncle recovered: he
+found agreeable society in the neighbourhood; he was persuaded to
+prolong his stay: his mind, which had been continually harassed, now
+enjoyed some tranquillity. On an unlucky evening, he recollected
+Martial's famous epigram and his wife, in one and the same instant:
+
+  "My mind still hovering round about you,
+  I thought I could not live without you;
+  But now we have lived three weeks asunder,
+  How I lived with you is the wonder."
+
+In the mean time, our heroine's chief amusement, in her husband's
+absence, was writing to complain of him to Mrs. Nettleby. This lady's
+answers were now filled with a reciprocity of conjugal abuse; she had
+found, to her cost, that it is the most desperate imprudence to marry
+a fool, in the hopes of governing him. All her powers of tormenting
+were lost upon her blessed helpmate. He was not to be moved by wit or
+sarcasm, eloquence or noise, tears or caresses, reason, jealousy, or
+the opinion of the world.
+
+What did he care what the world thought, he would do as he pleased
+himself; he would be master in his own house: it did not signify
+talking or crying, or being in the right; right or wrong, he would be
+obeyed; a wife should never govern him; he had no notion of letting a
+woman rule, for his part; women were born to obey, and promised it
+in church. As to jealousy, let his wife look to that; if she did not
+choose to behave properly, he knew his remedy, and would as soon be
+divorced as not: "Rule a wife and have a wife," was the burden of his
+song.
+
+It was in vain to goad his insensible nature, in hopes of obtaining
+any good: vain as the art said to be possessed by Linnæus, of
+producing pearls by pricking oysters. Mrs. Nettleby, the witty, the
+spirited Widow Nettleby, was now in the most hopeless and abject
+condition; tyrannized over by a dunce,--and who could pity her? not
+even her dear Griselda.
+
+One day Mrs. Bolingbroke received an epistle of seven pages from
+_poor_ Mrs. Nettleby, giving a full and true account of Mr. Nettleby's
+extraordinary obstinacy about "the awning of a pleasure-boat, which
+he would not suffer to be made according to her directions, and which
+consequently caused the oversetting of the boat, and _very nearly_
+the deaths of all the party." Tired with the long history, and with
+the notes upon the history of this adventure, in Mrs. Nettleby's
+declamatory style, our heroine walked out to refresh herself. She
+followed a pleasant path in a field near the house, and came to a
+shady lane, where she heard Mr. and Mrs. Granby's voices. She went
+towards the place. There was a turn in the lane, and a thick hedge
+of hawthorn prevented them from being immediately seen. As she
+approached, she heard Mr. Granby saying to Emma, in the fondest tone
+of affection, "My dear Emma, pray let it be done the way that you like
+best."
+
+They were looking at a cottage which they were building. The masons
+had, by mistake, followed the plan which Mr. Granby proposed, instead
+of that which Emma had suggested. The wall was half built; but Mr.
+Granby desired that it might be pulled down and altered to suit Emma's
+taste.
+
+"Bless me!" cried Griselda, with great surprise, "are you really going
+to have it pulled down, Mr. Granby?"
+
+"Certainly," replied he; "and what is more, I am going to help to pull
+it down."
+
+He ran to assist the masons, and worked with a degree of zeal, which
+increased Mrs. Bolingbroke's astonishment.
+
+"Good Heavens!--He could not do more for you if you were his
+mistress."
+
+"He never did so much for me, till I was his wife," said Emma.
+
+"That's strange!--Very unlike other men. But, my dear," said Mrs.
+Bolingbroke, taking Mrs. Granby's arm, and drawing her aside, "how did
+you acquire such surprising power over your husband?"
+
+"By not desiring it, I believe," replied Emma, smiling; "I have never
+used any other art."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+  "Et cependant avec toute sa diablerie,
+  Il faut que je l'appelle et mon coeur et ma mie."
+
+
+Our heroine was still meditating upon the extraordinary method by
+which Emma had acquired power over her husband, when a carriage drove
+down the lane, and Mr. Bolingbroke's head appeared looking out of the
+chaise window. His face did not express so much joy as she thought it
+ought to display at the sight of her, after three weeks' absence. She
+was vexed, and received him coldly. He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Granby,
+and was not miserable. Griselda did not speak one word during their
+walk home; still her husband continued in good spirits: she was more
+and more out of humour, and took no pains to conceal her displeasure.
+He bore it well, but then he seemed to feel it so little, that she
+was exasperated beyond measure; she seized the first convenient
+opportunity, when she found him alone, of beginning a direct attack.
+
+"This is not the way in which you _used_ to meet me, after an absence
+ever so short." He replied, that he was really very glad to see her,
+but that she, on the contrary, seemed sorry to see him.
+
+"Because you are quite altered now," continued she, in a querulous
+tone. "I always prophesied, that you would cease to love me."
+
+"Take care, my dear," said he, smiling; "some prophecies are the cause
+of their own accomplishment,--the sole cause. Come, my Griselda,"
+continued he, in a serious tone, "do not let us begin to quarrel
+the moment we meet." He offered to embrace her, but she drew back
+haughtily. "What! do you confess that you no longer love me?" cried
+she.
+
+"Far from it: but it is in your own power," said he, hesitating, "to
+diminish or increase my love."
+
+"Then it is no love, if it can be either increased or diminished,"
+cried she; "it is no love worth having. I remember the day when
+you swore to me, that your affection could not be increased or
+diminished."
+
+"I was _in_ love in those days, my dear, and did not know what I
+swore," said Mr. Bolingbroke, endeavouring to turn the conversation:
+"never reproach a man, when he is sober, with what he said when he was
+drunk."
+
+"Then you are sober now, are you?" cried she angrily.
+
+"It is to be hoped I am," said he, laughing.
+
+"Cruel, barbarous man!" cried she.
+
+"For being sober?" said he: "have not you been doing all you could to
+sober me these eighteen months, my dear? and now do not be angry if
+you have in some degree succeeded."
+
+"Succeeded!--Oh, wretched woman! this is thy lot!" exclaimed Griselda,
+clasping her hands in an agony of passion. "Oh, that my whole
+unfortunate sex could _see_ me,--could _hear_ you at this instant!
+Never, never did the love of man endure one twelvemonth after
+marriage. False, treacherous, callous, perjured tyrant! leave me!
+leave me!"
+
+He obeyed; she called him back, with a voice half suffocated with
+rage, but he returned not.
+
+Never was departing love recalled by the voice of reproach. It is
+not, as the poet fables, at the sight of human ties, that Cupid
+is frightened, for he is blind; but he has the most delicate ears
+imaginable: scared at the sound of female objurgation, Love claps his
+wings and urges his irrevocable flight.
+
+Griselda remained for some time in her apartment to indulge her
+ill-humour; she had leisure for this indulgence; she was not now, as
+formerly, disturbed by the fond interruptions of a husband. Longer had
+her angry fit lasted, but for a circumstance, which may to many of our
+readers appear unnatural: our heroine became hungry. The passions are
+more under the control of the hours of meals[1] than any one, who has
+not observed human life out of novels, can easily believe. Dinner-time
+came, and Mrs. Bolingbroke appeared at dinner as usual. In the
+presence of Mr. and Mrs. Granby pride compelled Griselda to command
+herself, and no one could guess what had passed between her and her
+husband: but no sooner was she again tête-à-tête with him, than her
+reproaches recommenced with fresh violence.--"Will you only do me the
+justice to tell me, Mr. Bolingbroke," cried she, "what reason you have
+to love me less?"
+
+[Footnote 1: De Retz' Memoirs.]
+
+"Reason, my dear," said he; "you know love is independent of reason,
+according to your own definition: love is involuntary, you cannot
+therefore blame me for its caprices."
+
+"Insulting casuistry!" said she, weeping; "sophistical nonsense! Have
+you any rational complaint to make against me, Bolingbroke?"
+
+"I make no complaints, rational or irrational, my dear; they are all
+on your side."
+
+"And well they may be," cried Griselda, "when you treat me in such a
+barbarous manner: but I do not complain; the world shall be my judge;
+the world will do me justice, if you will not. I appeal to every body
+who knows me, have I ever given you the slightest cause for ill-usage?
+Can you accuse me of any extravagance, of any imprudence, sir?"
+
+"I accuse you of neither, Mrs. Bolingbroke."
+
+"No, because you cannot, sir; my character, my fidelity is
+unimpeached, unimpeachable: the world will do me justice."
+
+Griselda contrived to make even her virtues causes of torment. Upon
+the strength of this unimpeachable fidelity, she thought she might be
+as ill-humoured as she pleased; she seemed now to think that she had
+acquired an indefeasible right to reproach her husband, since she had
+extorted from him the confession that he loved her less, and that he
+had no crime to lay to her charge. Ten days passed on in this manner;
+the lady becoming every hour more irritable, the gentleman every hour
+more indifferent.
+
+To have revived or killed affection _secundem artem_, the fair
+practitioner should now have thrown in a little jealousy: but,
+unluckily, she was so situated that this was impossible. No object any
+way fit for the purpose was at hand; nothing was to be found within
+ten miles of her but honest country squires; and,
+
+  "With all the powers of nature and of art,
+  She could not break one stubborn country heart."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+  "To whom the virgin majesty of Eve,
+  As one who loves and some unkindness meets,
+  With sweet austere composure thus replies."
+
+
+Many privileges are, and ought to be, allowed to the virgin majesty
+of the sex; and even when the modern fair one does not reply with all
+the sweet austere composure of Eve, her anger may have charms for a
+lover. There is a certain susceptibility of temper, that sometimes
+accompanies the pride of virtue, which indicates a quick sense of
+shame, and warm feelings of affection; in whatsoever manner this may
+be shown, it appears amiable and graceful. And if this sensibility
+degenerate into irritability, a lover pardons it in his mistress; it
+is her prerogative to be haughty; and if he be dexterous to seize
+"the moment of returning love," it is often his interest to promote
+quarrels, for the sake of the pleasures of reconciliation. The jealous
+doubts, the alternate hopes and fears, attendant on the passion of
+love, are dear to the lover whilst his passion lasts; but when that
+subsides--as subside it must--his taste for altercation ceases. The
+proverb which favours the quarrels of lovers may prove fatal to the
+happiness of husbands; and woe be to the wife who puts her faith in
+it! There are, however, people who would extend that dangerous maxim
+even to the commerce of friendship; and it must be allowed (for
+morality, neither in small matters nor great, can gain any thing by
+suppressing the truth), it must be allowed that in the commencement
+of an intimacy the quarrels of friends may tend to increase their
+mutual regard, by affording to one or both of them opportunities of
+displaying qualities superior even to good humour; such as truth,
+fidelity, honour, or generosity. But whatever may be the sum total
+of their merit, when upon long acquaintance it comes to be fully
+known and justly appreciated, the most splendid virtues or talents
+can seldom compensate in domestic life for the want of temper. The
+fallacy of a maxim, like the absurdity of an argument, is sometimes
+best proved by pushing it as far as it can go, by observing all its
+consequences. Our heroine, in the present instance, illustrates this
+truth to admiration: her life and her husband's had now become a
+perpetual scene of disputes and reproaches; every day the quarrels
+grew more bitter, and the reconciliations less sweet.
+
+One morning, Griselda and her husband were present whilst Emma was
+busy showing some poor children how to plait straw for hats.
+
+"Next summer, my dear, when we are settled at home, I hope you will
+encourage some manufacture of this kind amongst the children of our
+tenants," said Mr. Bolingbroke to his lady.
+
+"I have no genius for teaching manufactures of this sort," replied
+Mrs. Bolingbroke, scornfully.
+
+Her husband urged the matter no farther. A few minutes afterwards, he
+drew out a straw from a bundle, which one of the children held.
+
+"This is a fine straw!" said he, carelessly.
+
+"Fine straw!" cried Mrs. Bolingbroke: "no--that is very coarse. This,"
+continued she, pulling one from another bundle; "this is a fine straw,
+if you please."
+
+"I think mine is the finest," said Mr. Bolingbroke.
+
+"Then you must be blind, Mr. Bolingbroke," cried the lady, eagerly
+comparing them.
+
+"Well, my dear," said he, laughing, "we will not dispute about
+straws."
+
+"No, indeed," said she; "but I observe whenever you know you are in
+the wrong, Mr. Bolingbroke, you say, _we will not dispute, my dear_:
+now pray look at these straws, Mrs. Granby, you that have eyes--which
+is the finest?"
+
+"I will draw lots," said Emma, taking one playfully from Mrs.
+Bolingbroke; "for it seems to me, that there is little or no
+difference between them."
+
+"No difference? Oh, my dear Emma!" said Mrs. Bolingbroke.
+
+"My dear Griselda," cried her husband, taking the other straw from her
+and blowing it away; "indeed it is not worth disputing about: this is
+too childish."
+
+"Childish!" repeated she, looking after the straw, as it floated down
+the wind; "I see nothing childish in being in the right: your raising
+your voice in that manner never convinces me. Jupiter is always in the
+wrong, you know, when he has recourse to his thunder."
+
+"Thunder, my dear Griselda, about a straw! Well, when women are
+determined to dispute, it is wonderful how ingenious they are in
+finding subjects. I give you joy, my dear, of having attained the
+perfection of the art: you can now literally dispute about straws."
+
+Emma insisted at this instant upon having an opinion about the shape
+of a hat, which she had just tied under the chin of a rosy little
+girl of six years old; upon whose smiling countenance she fixed the
+attention of the angry lady.
+
+All might now have been well; but Griselda had a pernicious habit of
+recurring to any slight words of blame which had been used by her
+friends. Her husband had congratulated her upon having attained the
+perfection of the art of disputing, since she could cavil about
+straws. This reproach rankled in her mind. There are certain diseased
+states of the body, in which the slightest wound festers, and becomes
+incurable. It is the same with the mind; and our heroine's was in this
+dangerous predicament.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+  "Que suis je?--qu'ai je fait? Que dois-je faire encore?
+  Quel transport me saisit? Quel chagrin me dévore?"
+
+
+Some hours after the quarrel about the straws, when her husband
+had entirely forgotten it, and was sitting very quietly in his
+own apartment writing a letter, Griselda entered the room with a
+countenance prepared for great exploits.
+
+"Mr. Bolingbroke," she began in an awful tone of voice, "if you are at
+leisure to attend to me, I wish to speak to you upon a subject of some
+importance."
+
+"I am quite at leisure, my dear; pray sit down: what is the matter?
+you really alarm me!"
+
+"It is not my intention to alarm you, Mr. Bolingbroke," continued she
+in a still more solemn tone; "the time is past when what I have to say
+could have alarmed: I am persuaded that you will now hear it without
+emotion, or with an emotion of pleasure."
+
+She paused; he laid down his pen, and looked all expectation.
+
+"I am come to announce to you a fixed, unalterable resolution--To part
+from you, Mr. Bolingbroke."
+
+"Are you serious, my dear?"
+
+"Perfectly serious, sir."
+
+These words did not produce the revolution in her husband's
+countenance which Griselda had expected. She trembled with a mixed
+indescribable emotion of grief and rage when she heard him calmly
+reply, "Let us part, then, Griselda, if that be your wish; but let me
+be sure that it is your wish: I must have it repeated from your lips
+when you are perfectly calm."
+
+With a voice inarticulate from passion, Griselda began to assure him
+that she was perfectly calm; but he stopped her, and mildly said,
+"Take four-and-twenty hours to consider of what you are about,
+Griselda; I will be here at this time to-morrow to learn your final
+determination."
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke left the room.
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke was incapable of thinking: she could only feel.
+Conflicting passions assailed her heart. All the woman rushed upon
+her soul; she loved her husband more at this instant than she had
+ever loved him before. His firmness excited at once her anger and
+her admiration. She could not believe that she had heard his _words
+rightly_. She sat down to recall minutely every circumstance of what
+had just passed, every word, every look; she finished by persuading
+herself, that his calmness was affected, that the best method she
+could possibly take was by a show of resistance to bully him out of
+his indifference. She little knew what she hazarded; when the danger
+of losing her husband's love was imaginary, and solely of her own
+creating, it affected her in the most violent manner; but now that the
+peril was real and imminent, she was insensible to its existence.
+
+A celebrated traveller in the Alps advises people to imagine
+themselves walking amidst precipices, when they are safe upon smooth
+ground; and he assures them that by this practice they may inure
+themselves so to the idea of danger, as to prevent all sense of it in
+the most perilous situations.
+
+The four-and-twenty hours passed; and at the appointed moment our
+heroine and her husband met. As she entered the room, she observed
+that he held a book in his hand, but was not reading: he put it down,
+rose deliberately, and placed a chair for her, in silence.
+
+"I thank you, I would rather stand," said she: he put aside the chair,
+and walked to a door at the other end of the room, to examine whether
+there was any one in the adjoining apartment.
+
+"It is not necessary that what we have to say should be overheard by
+servants," said he.
+
+"I have no objection to being overheard," said Griselda: "I have
+nothing to say of which I am ashamed; and all the world must know it
+soon."
+
+As Mr. Bolingbroke returned towards her, she examined his countenance
+with an inquisitive eye. It was expressive of concern; grave, but
+calm.
+
+Whoever has seen a balloon--the reader, however impatient, must listen
+to this allusion--whoever has seen a balloon, may have observed that
+in its flaccid state it can be folded and unfolded with the greatest
+ease, and it is manageable even by a child; but when once filled, the
+force of multitudes cannot restrain, nor the art of man direct its
+course. Such is the human mind--so tractable before, so ungovernable
+after it fills with passion. By slow degrees, unnoticed by our
+heroine, the balloon had been filling. It was full; but yet it was
+held down by strong cords: it remained with her to cut or not to cut
+them.
+
+"Reflect before you speak, my dear Griselda," said her husband;
+"consider that on the words which you are going to pronounce depend
+your fate and mine."
+
+"I have reflected sufficiently," said she, "and decide, Mr.
+Bolingbroke--to part."
+
+"Be it so!" cried he; fire flashed from his eyes; he grew red and pale
+in an instant. "Be it so," repeated he, in an irrevocable voice--"We
+part for ever!"
+
+He vanished before Griselda could speak or think. She was breathless;
+her limbs trembled; she could not support herself; she sunk she knew
+not where. She certainly loved her husband better than any thing upon
+earth, except power. When she came to her senses, and perceived that
+she was alone, she felt as if she was abandoned by all the world. The
+dreadful words "for ever," still sounded in her ears. She was tempted
+to yield her humour to her affection. It was but a momentary struggle;
+the love of sway prevailed. When she came more fully to herself, she
+recurred to the belief that her husband could not be in earnest, or at
+least that he would never persist, if she had but the courage to dare
+him to the utmost.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+  "L'ai-je vu se troubler, et me plaindre un moment?
+  En ai-je pu tirer un seul gémissement?"
+
+
+Ashamed of her late weakness, our heroine rallied all her spirits, and
+resolved to meet her husband at supper with an undaunted countenance.
+Her provoking composure was admirably prepared: but it was thrown
+away, for Mr. Bolingbroke did not appear at supper. When Griselda
+retired to rest, she found a note from him on her dressing-table; she
+tore it open with a triumphant hand, certain that it came to offer
+terms of reconciliation.
+
+    "You will appoint whatever friend you think proper to settle
+    the terms of our separation. The time I desire to be as soon as
+    possible. I have not mentioned what has passed to Mr. or Mrs.
+    Granby; you will mention it to them or not, as you think fit. On
+    this point, as on all others, you will henceforward follow your
+    own discretion.
+
+    "T. BOLINGBROKE."
+
+    "Twelve o'clock;
+
+    "Saturday, Aug. 10th."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke read and re-read this note, weighed every word,
+examined every letter, and at last exclaimed aloud, "He will not,
+cannot, part from me."
+
+"He cannot be in earnest," thought she. "Either he is acting a part or
+he is in a passion. Perhaps he is instigated by Mr. Granby: no, that
+cannot be, because he says he has not mentioned it to Mr. or Mrs.
+Granby, and he always speaks the truth. If Emma had known it, she
+would have prevented him from writing such a harsh note, for she is
+such a good creature. I have a great mind to consult her; she is so
+indulgent, so soothing. But what does Mr. Bolingbroke say about her?
+He leaves me to my own discretion, to mention what has passed or not.
+That means, mention it, speak to Mrs. Granby, that she may advise you
+to submit. I will not say a word to her; I will out-general him yet.
+He cannot leave me when it comes to the trial."
+
+She sat down, and wrote instantly this answer to her husband's note:
+
+    "I agree with you entirely, that the sooner we part the better.
+    I shall write to-morrow to my friend Mrs. Nettleby, with whom I
+    choose to reside. Mr. John Nettleby is the person I fix upon to
+    settle the terms of our separation. In three days I shall have
+    Mrs. Nettleby's answer. This is Saturday: on Tuesday, then, we
+    part--for ever.
+
+    "GRISELDA BOLINGBROKE."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke summoned her maid. "Deliver this note," said she,
+"with your own hand; do not send Le Grand with it to his master."
+
+Griselda waited impatiently for her maid's return.
+
+"No answer, madam."
+
+"No answer! are you certain?"
+
+"Certain, ma'am: my master only said, 'Very well.'"
+
+"And why did not you ask him if there was any answer?"
+
+"I did, ma'am. I said, 'Is there no answer for my lady?' 'No answer,'
+said he."
+
+"Was he up?"
+
+"No, ma'am: he was in bed."
+
+"Was he asleep when you went in?"
+
+"I cannot say positively, ma'am: he undrew the curtain as I went in,
+and asked, 'Who's there?'"
+
+"Did you go in on tiptoe?"
+
+"I forget, really, ma'am."
+
+"You forget really! Idiot!"
+
+"But, ma'am, I recollect he turned his head to go to sleep as I closed
+the curtain."
+
+"You need not wait," said Mrs. Bolingbroke.
+
+Provoked beyond the power of sleep, Mrs. Bolingbroke gave free
+expression to her feelings, in an eloquent letter to Mrs. Nettleby;
+but even after this relief, Griselda could not rest; so much was she
+disturbed by the repose that her husband enjoyed, or was reputed to
+enjoy. In the morning she placed her letter in full view upon the
+mantel-piece in the drawing-room, in hopes that it would strike terror
+into the heart of her husband. To her great mortification, she saw Mr.
+Bolingbroke, with an unchanged countenance, give it to the servant,
+who came to ask for "letters for the post." She had now three days of
+grace, before Mrs. Nettleby's answer could arrive; but of these she
+disdained to take advantage: she never mentioned what had passed to
+Mrs. Granby, but persisted in the same haughty conduct towards her
+husband, persuaded that she should conquer at last.
+
+The third day came, and brought an answer from Mrs. Nettleby. After
+a prodigious parade of professions, a decent display of astonishment
+at Mr. Bolingbroke's strange conduct, and pity for her dear Griselda,
+Mrs. Nettleby came to the point, and was sorry to say, that Mr.
+Nettleby was in one of his obstinate fits, and could not be brought
+to listen to the scheme so near her heart: "He would have nothing to
+do, he said, with settling the terms of Mr. and Mrs. Bolingbroke's
+separation, not he!--He absolutely refuses to meddle between man and
+wife; and calls it meddling," continued Mrs. Nettleby, "to receive
+you as an inmate, after you have parted from your husband. Mr.
+Bolingbroke, he says, has always been very civil to him, and came to
+see him in town; therefore he will not encourage Mrs. Bolingbroke in
+her tantarums. I represented to him, that Mr. B. desires the thing,
+and leaves the choice of a residence to yourself: but Mr. Nettleby
+replied, in his brutal way, that you might choose a residence where
+you would, except in his house; that his house was his castle, and
+should never be turned into an asylum for runagate wives; that he
+would not set such an example to his own wife, &c. But," continued
+Mrs. Nettleby, "you can imagine all the foolish things he said, and I
+need not repeat them, to vex you and myself. I know that he refuses to
+receive you, my dear Mrs. Bolingbroke, on purpose to provoke me. But
+what can one do or say to such a man?--Adieu, my dear. Pray write when
+you are at leisure, and tell me how things are settled, or rather what
+is settled upon you; which, to be sure, is now the only thing that you
+have to consider.
+
+"Ever yours, affectionately,
+
+"R. H. NETTLEBY.
+
+"P.S. Before you leave Devonshire, do, my dear, get me some of the
+fine Devonshire lace; three or four dozen yards will do. I trust
+implicitly to your taste. You know I do not mind the price; only let
+it be broad, for narrow lace is my aversion."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+
+  "Lost is the dear delight of giving pain!"
+
+
+Mortified by her dear friend's affectionate letter and postscript,
+Griselda was the more determined to persist in her resolution to defy
+her husband to the utmost. The catastrophe, she thought, would always
+be in her own power; she recollected various separation scenes in
+novels and plays where the lady, after having tormented her husband or
+lover by every species of ill conduct, reforms in an instant, and a
+reconciliation is effected by some miraculous means. Our heroine had
+seen Lady Townley admirably well acted, and doubted not that she could
+now perform her part victoriously. With this hope, or rather in this
+confidence, she went in search of Mr. Bolingbroke. He was not in the
+house; he had gone out to take a solitary walk. Griselda hoped that
+she was the object of his reflections, during his lonely ramble.
+
+"Yes," said she to herself, "my power is not exhausted: I shall make
+his heart ache yet; and when he yields, how I will revenge myself!"
+
+She rang for her woman, and gave orders to have every thing
+immediately prepared for her departure. "As soon as the trunks are
+packed, let them be corded, and placed in the great hall," said she.
+
+Our heroine, who had a happy memory, full well recollected the effect
+which the sight of the corded trunks produced in the "Simple Story,"
+and she thought the stroke so good that it would bear repetition. With
+malice prepense, she therefore prepared the blow, which she flattered
+herself could not fail to astound her victim. Her pride still revolted
+from the idea of consulting Mrs. Granby; but some apology was
+requisite for thus abruptly quitting her house. Mrs. Bolingbroke began
+in a tone that seemed intended to preclude all discussion.
+
+"Mrs. Granby, do you know that Mr. Bolingbroke and I have come to a
+resolution to be happy the rest of our lives; and, for this purpose,
+we find it expedient to separate. Do not start or look so shocked,
+my dear. This word separation may sound terrible to some people,
+but I have, thank Heaven! sufficient strength of mind to hear it
+with perfect composure. When a couple who are chained together pull
+different ways, the sooner they break their chain the better. I shall
+set out immediately for Weymouth. You will excuse me, my dear Mrs.
+Granby; you see the necessity of the case."
+
+Mrs. Granby, with the most delicate kindness, began to expostulate;
+but Griselda declared that she was incapable of using a friend so
+ill as to pretend to listen to advice, when her mind was determined
+irrevocably. Emma had no intention, she said, of obtruding her advice,
+but she wished that Mrs. Bolingbroke would give her own excellent
+understanding time to act, and that she would not throw away the
+happiness of her life in a fit of passion. Mrs. Bolingbroke protested
+that she never was freer from passion of every sort than she was at
+this moment. With an unusually placid countenance, she turned from
+Mrs. Granby and sat down to the piano-forte. "We shall not agree if
+I talk any more upon this subject," continued she, "therefore I had
+better sing. I believe my music is better than my logic: at all events
+I prefer music."
+
+In a fine _bravura_ style Griselda then began to sing--
+
+  "What have I to do with thee,
+  Dull, unjoyous constancy?" &c.
+
+And afterwards she played all her gayest airs to convince Mrs. Granby
+that her heart was quite at ease. She continued playing for an
+unconscionable time, with the most provoking perseverance.
+
+Emma stood at the window, watching for Mr. Bolingbroke's return.
+"Here comes Mr. Bolingbroke!--How melancholy he looks!--Oh, my dear
+Griselda," cried she, stopping Mrs. Bolingbroke's hand as it ran gaily
+over the keys, "this is no time for mirth or bravado: let me conjure
+you--"
+
+"I hate to be conjured," interrupted Griselda, breaking from her; "I
+am not a child, to be coaxed and kissed and sugar-plummed into being
+good, and behaving prettily. Do me the favour to let Mr. Bolingbroke
+know that I am in the study, and desire to speak to him for one
+minute."
+
+No power could detain the peremptory lady: she took her way to the
+study, and rejoiced as she crossed the hall, to see the trunks placed
+as she had ordered. It was impossible that her husband could
+avoid seeing them the moment he should enter the house.--What a
+satisfaction!--Griselda seated herself at ease in an arm-chair in
+the study, and took up a book which lay open on the table. Mr.
+Bolingbroke's pencil-case was in it, and the following passage was
+marked:
+
+"Il y a un lieu sur la terre où les joies pures sont inconnues; d'où
+la politesse est exilée et fait place à l'ègoîsme, à la contradiction,
+aux injures à demivoilées; le remords et l'inquiétude, furies
+infatigables, y tourmentent les habitans. Ce lieu est la maison de
+deux époux qui ne peuvent ni s'estimer, ni s'aimer.
+
+"Il y a un lieu sur la terre où le vice ne s'introduit pas, où les
+passions tristes n'ont jamais d'empire, où le plaisir et l'innocence
+habitent toujours ensemble, où les soins sont chers, où les travaux
+sont doux, où les peines s'oublient dans les entretiens, où l'on jouit
+du passé, du présent, de l'avenir; et c'est la maison de deux époux
+qui s'aiment."[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: M. de Saint Lambert, Oeuvres Philosophiques, tome ii.]
+
+A pang of remorse seized Griselda, as she read these words; they
+seemed to have been written on purpose for her. Struck with the sense
+of her own folly, she paused--she doubted;--but then she thought that
+she had gone too far to recede. Her pride could not bear the idea of
+acknowledging that she had been wrong, or of seeking reconcilement.
+
+"I could live very happily with this man; but then to yield the
+victory to him!--and to reform!--No, no--all reformed heroines are
+stupid and odious."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+
+  "And, vanquish'd, quit victoriously the field."
+
+
+Griselda flung the book from her as her husband entered the room.
+
+"You have had an answer, madam, from your friend, Mrs. Nettleby, I
+perceive," said he, calmly.
+
+"I have, sir. Family reasons prevent her from receiving me at present;
+therefore I have determined upon going to Weymouth; where, indeed, I
+always wished to spend this summer."
+
+Mr. Bolingbroke evinced no surprise, and made not the slightest
+opposition. Mrs. Bolingbroke was so much vexed, that she could
+scarcely command her countenance: she bit her lip violently.
+
+"With respect to any arrangements that are to be made, I am to
+understand that you wish me to address myself to Mr. J. Nettleby,"
+said her husband.
+
+"No, to myself, if you please; I am prepared to listen, sir, to
+whatever you may have to propose."
+
+"These things are always settled best in writing," replied Mr.
+Bolingbroke. "Be so obliging as to leave me your direction, and you
+shall hear from me, or from Mrs. Granby, in a few days."
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke hastily wrote a direction upon a card, and put it
+into her husband's hand, with as much unconcern as she could maintain.
+Mr. Bolingbroke continued, precisely in the same tone: "If you have
+any thing to suggest, that may contribute to your future convenience,
+madam, you will be so good as to leave a memorandum with me, to which
+I shall attend."
+
+He placed a sheet of paper before Mrs. Bolingbroke, and put a pen into
+her hand. She made an effort to write, but her hand trembled so that
+she could not form a letter. Her husband took up Saint Lambert, and
+read, or seemed to read.--"Open the window, Mr. Bolingbroke," said
+she. He obeyed, but did not, as formerly, "hang over her enamoured."
+He had been so often duped by her fainting-fits and hysterics, that
+now, when she suffered in earnest, he suspected her of artifice. He
+took up his book again, and marked a page with his pencil. She wrote
+a line with a hurried hand, then starting up, flung her pen from her,
+and exclaimed--"I need not, will not write; I have no request to make
+to you, Mr. Bolingbroke; do what you will; I have no wishes, no wish
+upon earth--but to leave you."
+
+"That wish will be soon accomplished, madam," replied he, unmoved.
+
+She pulled the bell till it broke.--A servant appeared.
+
+"My carriage to the door directly, if you please, sir," cried she.
+
+A pause ensued. Griselda sat swelling with unutterable
+rage.--"Heavens! have you no feeling left?" exclaimed she, snatching
+the book from his hand; "have you no feeling left, Mr. Bolingbroke,
+for any thing?"
+
+"You have left me none for some things, Mrs. Bolingbroke, and I thank
+you. All this would have broken my heart six months ago."
+
+"You have no heart to break," cried she.--The carriage drove to the
+door.
+
+"One word more, before I leave you for ever, Mr. Bolingbroke,"
+continued she.--"Blame yourself, not me, for all this.--When we were
+first married, you humoured, you spoiled me; no temper could bear
+it.--Take the consequences of your own weak indulgence.--Farewell."
+
+He made no effort to retain her, and she left the room.
+
+  ----"Thus it shall befall
+  Him who to worth in woman overtrusting
+  Lets tier will rule: restraint she will not brook;
+  And left to herself, if evil thence ensue,
+  She first his _weak indulgence_ will accuse."
+
+A confused recollection of this warning of Adam's was in Mr.
+Bolingbroke's head at this moment.
+
+Mrs. Bolingbroke's carriage drove by the window, and she kissed her
+hand to him as she passed. He had not sufficient presence of mind
+to return the compliment. Our heroine enjoyed this last triumph of
+superior temper.
+
+Whether the victory was worth the winning, whether the modern Griselda
+persisted in her spirited sacrifice of happiness, whether she was
+ever reconciled to her husband, or whether the fear of "reforming
+and growing stupid" prevailed, are questions which we leave to the
+sagacity or the curiosity of her fair contemporaries.
+
+  "He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
+  Let him now speak, 'tis charity to shew."
+
+
+END OF VOLUME VI
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TALES AND NOVELS, VOL. 6 ***
+
+This file should be named 8tal610.txt or 8tal610.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8tal611.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8tal610a.txt
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext05 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext05
+
+Or /etext04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92,
+91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+ PROJECT GUTENBERG LITERARY ARCHIVE FOUNDATION
+ 809 North 1500 West
+ Salt Lake City, UT 84116
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/8tal610.zip b/old/8tal610.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccbb427
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/8tal610.zip
diff --git a/old/9620-h.htm.2021-01-26 b/old/9620-h.htm.2021-01-26
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aecdf72
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/9620-h.htm.2021-01-26
@@ -0,0 +1,23097 @@
+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>Tales and Novels, Vol. 6, by Maria Edgeworth</title>
+    <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" />
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .50em; margin-bottom: .50em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 100%;}
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    .xx-small {font-size: 60%;}
+    .x-small {font-size: 75%;}
+    .small {font-size: 85%;}
+    .large {font-size: 115%;}
+    .x-large {font-size: 130%;}
+    .indent5   { margin-left: 5%;}
+    .indent10  { margin-left: 10%;}
+    .indent15  { margin-left: 15%;}
+    .indent20  { margin-left: 20%;}
+    .indent30  { margin-left: 30%;}
+    .indent40  { margin-left: 40%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em;
+                font-variant: normal; font-style: normal;
+                text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD;
+                border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;}
+    .side      { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border:        solid 1px;}
+    .head      { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em;
+               border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center;
+               text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;
+               font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border:        solid 1px;}
+    p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0}
+    span.dropcap         { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 }
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales and Novels, Vol. 6, by Maria Edgeworth
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Tales and Novels, Vol. 6
+
+Author: Maria Edgeworth
+
+Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9620]
+Last Updated: December 20, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES AND NOVELS, VOL. 6 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, David Widger and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      TALES AND NOVELS
+    </h1>
+    <h3>
+      VOL. 6
+    </h3>
+    <h2>
+      BY
+    </h2>
+    <h2>
+      MARIA EDGEWORTH
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>CONTENTS</b>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE ABSENTEE.</b> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>MADAME DE FLEURY</b> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER I. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER II. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER III. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER IV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER V. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER VI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER VII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER IX. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER X. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> <b>EMILIE DE COULANGES</b> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> <b>THE MODERN GRISELDA</b>. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER I. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER II. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER III. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER IV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER V. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER VI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER VII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER IX. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER X. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0046"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0047"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0048"> CHAPTER XV. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0049"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0050"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0051"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0052"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> FOOTNOTES: </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      THE ABSENTEE.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you to be at Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s gala next week?&rdquo; said Lady Langdale to
+      Mrs. Dareville, whilst they were waiting for their carriages in the
+      crush-room of the opera-house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes! every body&rsquo;s to be there, I hear,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Dareville. &ldquo;Your
+      ladyship, of course?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don&rsquo;t know; if I possibly can. Lady Clonbrony makes it such a
+      point with me, that I believe I must look in upon her for a few minutes.
+      They are going to a prodigious expense on this occasion. Soho tells me the
+      reception rooms are all to be new furnished, and in the most magnificent
+      style.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At what a famous rate those Clonbronies are dashing on,&rdquo; said colonel
+      Heathcock. &ldquo;Up to any thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are they?&mdash;these Clonbronies, that one hears of so much of
+      late?&rdquo; said her grace of Torcaster. &ldquo;Irish absentees, I know. But how do
+      they support all this enormous expense?&rdquo; &ldquo;The son <i>will</i> have a
+      prodigiously fine estate when some Mr. Quin dies,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, every body who comes from Ireland <i>will</i> have a fine estate
+      when somebody dies,&rdquo; said her grace. &ldquo;But what have they at present?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty thousand a year, they say,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Dareville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten thousand, I believe,&rdquo; cried Lady Langdale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten thousand, have they?&mdash;possibly,&rdquo; said her grace. &ldquo;I know nothing
+      about them&mdash;have no acquaintance among the Irish. Torcaster knows
+      something of Lady Clonbrony; she has fastened herself by some means upon
+      him; but I charge him not to <i>commit</i> me. Positively, I could not for
+      any body, and much less for that sort of person, extend the circle of my
+      acquaintance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now that is so cruel of your grace,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville, laughing, &ldquo;when
+      poor Lady Clonbrony works so hard, and pays so high to get into certain
+      circles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you knew all she endures, to look, speak, move, breathe, like an
+      Englishwoman, you would pity her,&rdquo; said Lady Langdale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and you <i>cawnt</i> conceive the <i>peens</i> she <i>teekes</i> to
+      talk of the <i>teebles</i> and <i>cheers</i>, and to thank Q, and with so
+      much <i>teeste</i> to speak pure English,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pure cockney, you mean,&rdquo; said Lady Langdale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But does Lady Clonbrony expect to pass for English?&rdquo; said the duchess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes! because she is not quite Irish <i>bred and born</i>&mdash;only
+      bred, not born,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville. &ldquo;And she could not be five minutes
+      in your grace&rsquo;s company, before she would tell you that she was <i>Henglish</i>,
+      born in <i>Hoxfordshire</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must be a vastly amusing personage&mdash;I should like to meet her if
+      one could see and hear her incog.,&rdquo; said the duchess. &ldquo;And Lord Clonbrony,
+      what is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, nobody,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville: &ldquo;one never even hears of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A tribe of daughters, too, I suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said Lady Langdale; &ldquo;daughters would be past all endurance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a cousin, though, a Miss Nugent,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville, &ldquo;that Lady
+      Clonbrony has with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Best part of her, too,&rdquo; said Colonel Heathcock&mdash;&ldquo;d&mdash;&mdash;d
+      fine girl!&mdash;never saw her look better than at the opera to-night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine <i>complexion</i>! as Lady Clonbrony says, when she means a high
+      colour,&rdquo; said Lady Langdale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Nugent is not a lady&rsquo;s beauty,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville. &ldquo;Has she any
+      fortune, colonel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Pon honour, don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a son, somewhere, is not there?&rdquo; said Lady Langdale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t know, &lsquo;pon honour,&rdquo; replied the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;at Cambridge&mdash;not of age yet,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dareville. &ldquo;Bless
+      me! here is Lady Clonbrony come back. I thought she was gone half an hour
+      ago!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma,&rdquo; whispered one of Lady Langdale&rsquo;s daughters, leaning between her
+      mother and Mrs. Dareville, &ldquo;who is that gentleman that passed us just
+      now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Towards the door.&mdash;There now, mamma, you can see him. He is speaking
+      to Lady Clonbrony&mdash;to Miss Nugent&mdash;now Lady Clonbrony is
+      introducing him to Miss Broadhurst.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see him now,&rdquo; said Lady Langdale, examining him through her glass; &ldquo;a
+      very gentlemanlike looking young man indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner,&rdquo; said her grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heathcock!&rdquo; said Lady Langdale, &ldquo;who is Miss Broadhurst talking to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! now really&mdash;&lsquo;pon honour&mdash;don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; replied Heathcock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet he certainly looks like somebody one should know,&rdquo; pursued Lady
+      Langdale, &ldquo;though I don&rsquo;t recollect seeing him any where before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really now!&rdquo; was all the satisfaction she could gain from the insensible,
+      immovable colonel. However, her ladyship, after sending a whisper along
+      the line, gained the desired information, that the young gentleman was
+      Lord Colambre, son, only son, of Lord and Lady Clonbrony&mdash;that he was
+      just come from Cambridge&mdash;that he was not yet of age&mdash;that he
+      would be of age within a year; that he would then, after the death of
+      somebody, come into possession of a fine estate by the mother&rsquo;s side; &ldquo;and
+      therefore, Cat&rsquo;rine, my dear,&rdquo; said she, turning round to the daughter who
+      had first pointed him out, &ldquo;you understand we should never talk about
+      other people&rsquo;s affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma, Lord Colambre did not hear
+      what you and Mrs. Dareville were saying!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could he, child?&mdash;He was quite at the other end of the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;he was at my elbow, close behind us; but I
+      never thought about him till I heard somebody say &lsquo;my lord&mdash;&lsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&mdash;I hope he didn&rsquo;t hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, for my part, I said nothing,&rdquo; cried Lady Langdale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And for my part, I said nothing but what every body knows,&rdquo; cried Mrs.
+      Dareville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And for my part, I am guilty only of hearing,&rdquo; said the duchess. &ldquo;Do,
+      pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the goodness to see what my people are
+      about, and what chance we have of getting away to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess of Torcaster&rsquo;s carriage stops the way!&rdquo;&mdash;a joyful sound
+      to Colonel Heathcock and to her grace, and not less agreeable, at this
+      instant, to Lady Langdale, who, the moment she was disembarrassed of the
+      duchess, pressed through the crowd to Lady Clonbrony, and addressing her
+      with smiles and complacency, was charmed to have a little moment to speak
+      to her&mdash;could <i>not</i> sooner get through the crowd&mdash;would
+      certainly do herself the honour to be at her ladyship&rsquo;s gala. While Lady
+      Langdale spoke, she never seemed to see or think of any body but Lady
+      Clonbrony, though, all the time, she was intent upon every motion of Lord
+      Colambre; and whilst she was obliged to listen with a face of sympathy to
+      a long complaint of Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s, about Mr. Soho&rsquo;s want of taste in
+      ottomans, she was vexed to perceive that his lordship showed no desire to
+      be introduced to her or to her daughters; but, on the contrary, was
+      standing talking to Miss Nugent. His mother, at the end of her speech,
+      looked round for &ldquo;Colambre&rdquo;&mdash;called him twice before he heard&mdash;introduced
+      him to Lady Langdale, and to Lady Cat&rsquo;rine, and Lady Anne &mdash;&mdash;,
+      and to Mrs. Dareville; to all of whom he bowed with an air of proud
+      coldness, which gave them reason to regret that their remarks upon his
+      mother and his family had not been made <i>sotto voce</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Langdale&rsquo;s carriage stops the way!&rdquo; Lord Colambre made no offer of
+      his services, notwithstanding a look from his mother. Incapable of the
+      meanness of voluntarily listening to a conversation not intended for him
+      to hear, he had, however, been compelled, by the pressure of the crowd, to
+      remain a few minutes stationary, where he could not avoid hearing the
+      remarks of the fashionable friends: disdaining dissimulation, he made no
+      attempt to conceal his displeasure. Perhaps his vexation was increased by
+      his consciousness that there was some mixture of truth in their sarcasms.
+      He was sensible that his mother, in some points&mdash;her manners, for
+      instance&mdash;was obvious to ridicule and satire. In Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s
+      address there was a mixture of constraint, affectation, and indecision,
+      unusual in a person of her birth, rank, and knowledge of the world. A
+      natural and unnatural manner seemed struggling in all her gestures, and in
+      every syllable that she articulated&mdash;a naturally free, familiar,
+      good-natured, precipitate, Irish manner, had been schooled, and schooled
+      late in life, into a sober, cold, still, stiff deportment, which she
+      mistook for English. A strong Hibernian accent she had, with infinite
+      difficulty, changed into an English tone. Mistaking reverse of wrong for
+      right, she caricatured the English pronunciation; and the extraordinary
+      precision of her London phraseology betrayed her not to be a Londoner, as
+      the man who strove to pass for an Athenian was detected by his Attic
+      dialect. Not aware of her real danger, Lady Clonbrony was, on the opposite
+      side, in continual apprehension every time she opened her lips, lest some
+      treacherous <i>a</i> or <i>e</i>, some strong <i>r</i>, some puzzling
+      aspirate or non-aspirate, some unguarded note, interrogative, or
+      expostulatory, should betray her to be an Irishwoman. Mrs. Dareville had,
+      in her mimicry, perhaps, a little exaggerated, as to the <i>teebles</i>
+      and <i>cheers</i>, but still the general likeness of the representation of
+      Lady Clonbrony was strong enough to strike and vex her son. He had now,
+      for the first time, an opportunity of judging of the estimation in which
+      his mother and his family were held by certain leaders of the ton, of
+      whom, in her letters, she had spoken so much, and into whose society, or
+      rather into whose parties, she had been admitted. He saw that the renegado
+      cowardice with which she denied, abjured, and reviled her own country,
+      gained nothing but ridicule and contempt. He loved his mother; and, whilst
+      he endeavoured to conceal her faults and foibles as much as possible from
+      his own heart, he could not endure those who dragged them to light and
+      ridicule. The next morning, the first thing that occurred to Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s remembrance, when he awoke, was the sound of the contemptuous
+      emphasis which had been laid on the words IRISH ABSENTEES!&mdash;This led
+      to recollections of his native country, to comparisons of past and present
+      scenes, to future plans of life. Young and careless as he seemed, Lord
+      Colambre was capable of serious reflection. Of naturally quick and strong
+      capacity, ardent affections, impetuous temper, the early years of his
+      childhood passed at his father&rsquo;s castle in Ireland, where, from the lowest
+      servant to the well-dressed dependent of the family, every body had
+      conspired to wait upon, to fondle, to flatter, to worship, this darling of
+      their lord. Yet he was not spoiled&mdash;not rendered selfish; for in the
+      midst of this flattery and servility, some strokes of genuine generous
+      affection had gone home to his little heart: and though unqualified
+      submission had increased the natural impetuosity of his temper, and though
+      visions of his future grandeur had touched his infant thought, yet,
+      fortunately, before he acquired any fixed habits of insolence or tyranny,
+      he was carried far away from all that were bound or willing to submit to
+      his commands, far away from all signs of hereditary grandeur&mdash;plunged
+      into one of our great public schools&mdash;into a new world. Forced to
+      struggle, mind and body, with his equals, his rivals, the little lord
+      became a spirited school-boy, and in time, a man. Fortunately for him,
+      science and literature happened to be the fashion among a set of clever
+      young men with whom he was at Cambridge. His ambition for intellectual
+      superiority was raised, his views were enlarged, his tastes and his
+      manners formed. The sobriety of English good sense mixed most
+      advantageously with Irish vivacity: English prudence governed, but did not
+      extinguish, his Irish enthusiasm. But, in fact, English and Irish had not
+      been invidiously contrasted in his mind: he had been so long resident in
+      England, and so intimately connected with Englishmen, that he was not
+      obvious to any of the commonplace ridicule thrown upon Hibernians; and he
+      had lived with men who were too well informed and liberal to misjudge or
+      depreciate a sister country. He had found, from experience, that, however
+      reserved the English may be in manner, they are warm at heart; that,
+      however averse they may be from forming new acquaintance, their esteem and
+      confidence once gained, they make the most solid friends. He had formed
+      friendships in England; he was fully sensible of the superior comforts,
+      refinement, and information, of English society; but his own country was
+      endeared to him by early association, and a sense of duty and patriotism
+      attached him to Ireland.&mdash;&ldquo;And shall I too be an absentee?&rdquo; was a
+      question which resulted from these reflections&mdash;a question which he
+      was not yet prepared to answer decidedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, the first business of the morning was to execute a
+      commission for a Cambridge friend. Mr. Berryl had bought from Mr.
+      Mordicai, a famous London coachmaker, a curricle, <i>warranted sound</i>,
+      for which he had paid a sound price, upon express condition that Mr.
+      Mordicai should be answerable for all repairs of the curricle for six
+      months. In three, both the carriage and body were found to be good for
+      nothing&mdash;the curricle had been returned to Mordicai&mdash;nothing had
+      since been heard of it, or from him; and Lord Colambre had undertaken to
+      pay him and it a visit, and to make all proper inquiries. Accordingly, he
+      went to the coachmaker&rsquo;s; and, obtaining no satisfaction from the
+      underlings, desired to see the head of the house. He was answered that Mr.
+      Mordicai was not at home. His lordship had never seen Mr. Mordicai; but
+      just then he saw, walking across the yard, a man who looked something like
+      a Bond-street coxcomb, but not the least like a gentleman, who called, in
+      the tone of a master, for &ldquo;Mr. Mordicai&rsquo;s barouche!&rdquo;&mdash;It appeared;
+      and he was stepping into it, when Lord Colambre took the liberty of
+      stopping him; and, pointing to the wreck of Mr. Berryl&rsquo;s curricle, now
+      standing in the yard, began a statement of his friend&rsquo;s grievances, and an
+      appeal to common justice and conscience, which he, unknowing the nature of
+      the man with whom he had to deal, imagined must be irresistible. Mr.
+      Mordicai stood without moving a muscle of his dark wooden face&mdash;indeed,
+      in his face there appeared to be no muscles, or none which could move; so
+      that, though he had what are generally called handsome features, there
+      was, altogether, something unnatural and shocking in his countenance.
+      When, at last, his eyes turned and his lips opened, this seemed to be done
+      by machinery, and not by the will of a living creature, or from the
+      impulse of a rational soul. Lord Colambre was so much struck with this
+      strange physiognomy, that he actually forgot much he had to say of springs
+      and wheels&mdash;But it was no matter&mdash;Whatever he had said, it would
+      have come to the same thing; and Mordicai would have answered as he now
+      did; &ldquo;Sir, it was my partner made that bargain, not myself; and I don&rsquo;t
+      hold myself bound by it, for he is the sleeping partner only, and not
+      empowered to act in the way of business. Had Mr. Berryl bargained with me,
+      I should have told him that he should have looked to these things before
+      his carriage went out of our yard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The indignation of Lord Colambre kindled at these words&mdash;but in vain:
+      to all that indignation could by word or look urge against Mordicai, he
+      replied, &ldquo;May be so, sir: the law is open to your friend&mdash;the law is
+      open to all men, who can pay for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre turned in despair from the callous coachmaker, and listened
+      to one of his more compassionate-looking workmen, who was reviewing the
+      disabled curricle; and, whilst he was waiting to know the sum of his
+      friend&rsquo;s misfortune, a fat, jolly, Falstaff-looking personage came into
+      the yard, and accosted Mordicai with a degree of familiarity which, from a
+      gentleman, appeared to Lord Colambre to be almost impossible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Mordicai, my good fellow?&rdquo; cried he, speaking with a strong
+      Irish accent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this?&rdquo; whispered Lord Colambre to the foreman, who was examining
+      the curricle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, sir&mdash;There must be entire new wheels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell me, my tight fellow,&rdquo; continued Sir Terence, holding Mordicai
+      fast, &ldquo;when, in the name of all the saints, good or bad, in the calendar,
+      do you reckon to let us sport the <i>suicide</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you be so good, sir, to finish making out this estimate for me?&rdquo;
+       interrupted Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mordicai forcibly drew his mouth into what he meant for a smile, and
+      answered, &ldquo;As soon as possible, Sir Terence.&rdquo; Sir Terence, in a tone of
+      jocose, wheedling expostulation, entreated him to have the carriage
+      finished <i>out of hand</i>: &ldquo;Ah, now! Mordy, my precious! let us have it
+      by the birthday, and come and dine with us o&rsquo; Monday at the Hibernian
+      Hotel&mdash;there&rsquo;s a rare one&mdash;will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mordicai accepted the invitation, and promised faithfully that the <i>suicide</i>
+      should be finished by the birthday. Sir Terence shook hands upon this
+      promise, and, after telling a good story, which made one of the workmen in
+      the yard&mdash;an Irishman&mdash;grin with delight, walked off. Mordicai,
+      first waiting till the knight was out of hearing, called aloud, &ldquo;You
+      grinning rascal! mind, at your peril, and don&rsquo;t let that there carriage be
+      touched, d&rsquo;ye see, till farther orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of Mr. Mordicai&rsquo;s clerks, with a huge long feathered pen behind his
+      ear, observed that Mr. Mordicai was right in that caution, for that, to
+      the best of his comprehension, Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, and his principal too,
+      were over head and ears in debt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mordicai coolly answered, that he was well aware of that, but that the
+      estate could afford to dip farther; that, for his part, he was under no
+      apprehension; he knew how to look sharp, and to bite before he was bit:
+      that he knew Sir Terence and his principal were leagued together to give
+      the creditors <i>the go by</i>; but that, clever as they were both at that
+      work, he trusted he was their match.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately, sir&mdash;Sixty-nine pound four, and the perch&mdash;Let us
+      see&mdash;Mr. Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy, about Sir Terence,&rdquo; said the
+      foreman, pointing back over his shoulder to the Irish workman, who was at
+      this moment pretending to be wondrous hard at work. However, when Mr.
+      Mordicai defied him to tell him any thing he did not know, Paddy, parting
+      with an untasted bit of tobacco, began and recounted some of Sir Terence
+      O&rsquo;Fay&rsquo;s exploits in evading duns, replevying cattle, fighting sheriffs,
+      bribing <i>subs</i>, managing cants, tricking <i>custodees</i>, in
+      language so strange, and with a countenance and gestures so full of
+      enjoyment of the jest, that, whilst Mordicai stood for a moment aghast
+      with astonishment, Lord Colambre could not help laughing, partly at, and
+      partly with, his countryman. All the yard were in a roar of laughter,
+      though they did not understand half of what they heard; but their risible
+      muscles were acted upon mechanically, or maliciously, merely by the sound
+      of the Irish brogue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed, that &ldquo;the law
+      is executed in another guess sort of way in England from what it is in
+      Ireland;&rdquo; therefore, for his part, he desired nothing better than to set
+      his wits fairly against such <i>sharks</i>&mdash;that there was a pleasure
+      in doing up a debtor, which none but a creditor could know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a moment, sir; if you&rsquo;ll have a moment&rsquo;s patience, sir, if you
+      please,&rdquo; said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre; &ldquo;I must go down the
+      pounds once more, and then I&rsquo;ll let you have it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what, Smithfield,&rdquo; continued Mr. Mordicai, coming close
+      beside his foreman, and speaking very low, but with a voice trembling with
+      anger, for he was piqued by his foreman&rsquo;s doubts of his capacity to cope
+      with Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what, Smithfield, I&rsquo;ll be cursed if
+      I don&rsquo;t get every inch of them into my power&mdash;you know how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the best judge, sir,&rdquo; replied the foreman; &ldquo;but I would not
+      undertake Sir Terence; and the question is, whether the estate will answer
+      the <i>tote</i> of the debts, and whether you know them all for certain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do, sir, I tell you: there&rsquo;s Green&mdash;there&rsquo;s Blancham&mdash;there&rsquo;s
+      Gray&mdash;there&rsquo;s Soho&rdquo;&mdash;naming several more&mdash;&ldquo;and, to my
+      knowledge, Lord Clonbrony&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop, sir,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, in a voice which made Mordicai and every
+      body present start;&mdash;&ldquo;I am his son&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The devil!&rdquo; said Mordicai.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless every bone in his body, then, he&rsquo;s an Irishman!&rdquo; cried Paddy;
+      &ldquo;and there was the <i>ra</i>son my heart warmed to him from the first
+      minute he come into the yard, though I did not know it till now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, sir! are you my Lord Colambre?&rdquo; said Mr. Mordicai, recovering, but
+      not clearly recovering, his intellects: &ldquo;I beg pardon, but I did not know
+      you <i>was</i> Lord Colambre&mdash;I thought you told me you was the
+      friend of Mr. Berryl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not see the incompatibility of the assertion, sir,&rdquo; replied Lord
+      Colambre, taking from the bewildered foreman&rsquo;s unresisting hand the
+      account which he had been so long <i>furnishing</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me leave, my lord,&rdquo; said Mordicai&mdash;&ldquo;I beg your pardon, my lord;
+      perhaps we can compromise that business for your friend Mr. Berryl; since
+      he is your lordship&rsquo;s friend, perhaps we can contrive to <i>compromise</i>
+      and <i>split the difference</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>To compromise</i>, and <i>split the difference</i>, Mordicai thought
+      were favourite phrases, and approved Hibernian modes of doing business,
+      which would conciliate this young Irish nobleman, and dissipate the proud
+      tempest, which had gathered, and now swelled in his breast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, no!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, holding firm the paper: &ldquo;I want no
+      favour from you. I will accept of none for my friend or for myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Favour! No, my lord, I should not presume to offer&mdash;But I should
+      wish, if you&rsquo;ll allow me, to do your friend justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, recollecting that he had no right, in his pride, to fling
+      away his friend&rsquo;s money, let Mr. Mordicai look at the account; and his
+      impetuous temper in a few moments recovered by good sense, he considered,
+      that, as his person was utterly unknown to Mr. Mordicai, no offence could
+      have been intended to him, and that, perhaps, in what had been said of his
+      father&rsquo;s debts and distress, there might be more truth than he was aware
+      of. Prudently, therefore, controlling his feelings, and commanding
+      himself, he suffered Mr. Mordicai to show him into a parlour to <i>settle</i>
+      his friend&rsquo;s business. In a few minutes the account was reduced to a
+      reasonable form, and, in consideration of the partner&rsquo;s having made the
+      bargain, by which Mr. Mordicai felt himself influenced in honour, though
+      not bound in law, he undertook to have the curricle made better than new
+      again, for Mr. Berryl, for twenty guineas. Then came awkward apologies to
+      Lord Colambre, which he ill endured. &ldquo;Between ourselves, my lord,&rdquo;
+       continued Mordicai&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But the familiarity of the phrase. &ldquo;Between ourselves&rdquo;&mdash;this
+      implication of equality&mdash;Lord Colambre could not admit: he moved
+      hastily towards the door, and departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Full of what he had heard, and impatient to obtain farther information
+      respecting the state of his father&rsquo;s affairs, Lord Colambre hastened home;
+      but his father was out, and his mother was engaged with Mr. Soho,
+      directing, or rather being directed, how her apartments should be fitted
+      up for her gala. As Lord Colambre entered the room, he saw his mother,
+      Miss Nugent, and Mr. Soho, standing at a large table, which was covered
+      with rolls of paper, patterns, and drawings of furniture: Mr. Soho was
+      speaking in a conceited, dictatorial tone, asserting that there was no
+      &ldquo;colour in nature for that room equal to <i>the belly-o&rsquo;-the fawn</i>;&rdquo;
+       which <i>belly-o&rsquo;-the fawn</i> he so pronounced, that Lady Clonbrony
+      understood it to be <i>la belle uniforme</i>, and, under this mistake,
+      repeated and assented to the assertion, till it was set to rights, with
+      condescending superiority, by the upholsterer. This first architectural
+      upholsterer of the age, as he styled himself, and was universally admitted
+      to be by all the world of fashion, then, with full powers given to him,
+      spoke <i>en maître</i>. The whole face of things must be changed. There
+      must be new hangings, new draperies, new cornices, new candelabras, new
+      every thing!&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;The upholsterer&rsquo;s eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
+  Glances from ceiling to floor, from floor to ceiling;
+  And, as imagination bodies forth
+  The form of things unknown, the upholsterer&rsquo;s pencil
+  Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
+  A local habitation and a NAME.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Of the value of a NAME no one could be more sensible than Mr. Soho.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your la&rsquo;ship sees&mdash;this is merely a scratch of my pencil. Your
+      la&rsquo;ship&rsquo;s sensible&mdash;just to give you an idea of the shape, the form
+      of the thing. You fill up your angles here with <i>encoinières</i>&mdash;round
+      your walls with the <i>Turkish tent drapery</i>&mdash;a fancy of my own&mdash;in
+      apricot cloth, or crimson velvet, suppose, or, <i>en flute</i>, in crimson
+      satin draperies, fanned and riched with gold fringes, <i>en suite</i>&mdash;intermediate
+      spaces, Apollo&rsquo;s head with gold rays&mdash;and here, ma&rsquo;am, you place four
+      <i>chancelières</i>, with chimeras at the corners, covered with blue silk
+      and silver fringe, elegantly fanciful&mdash;with my STATIRA CANOPY here&mdash;light
+      blue silk draperies&mdash;aërial tint, with silver balls&mdash;and for
+      seats here, the SERAGLIO OTTOMANS, superfine scarlet&mdash;your paws&mdash;griffin&mdash;golden&mdash;and
+      golden tripods, here, with antique cranes&mdash;and oriental alabaster
+      tables here and there&mdash;quite appropriate, your la&rsquo;ship feels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And let me reflect. For the next apartment, it strikes me&mdash;as your
+      la&rsquo;ship don&rsquo;t value expense&mdash;the <i>Alhambra hangings</i>&mdash;my
+      own thought entirely&mdash;Now, before I unrol them, Lady Clonbrony, I
+      must beg you&rsquo;ll not mention I&rsquo;ve shown them. I give you my sacred honour,
+      not a soul has set eye upon the Alhambra hangings except Mrs. Dareville,
+      who stole a peep; I refused, absolutely refused, the Duchess of Torcaster&mdash;but
+      I can&rsquo;t refuse your la&rsquo;ship&mdash;So see, ma&rsquo;am&mdash; (unrolling them)&mdash;scagliola
+      porphyry columns supporting the grand dome&mdash;entablature, silvered and
+      decorated with imitative bronze ornaments: under the entablature, a <i>valence
+      in pelmets</i>, of puffed scarlet silk, would have an unparalleled grand
+      effect, seen through the arches&mdash;with the TREBISOND TRELLICE PAPER,
+      Would make a <i>tout ensemble</i>, novel beyond example. On that trebisond
+      trellice paper, I confess, ladies, I do pique myself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, for the little room, I recommend turning it temporarily into a
+      Chinese pagoda, with this <i>Chinese pagoda paper</i>, with the <i>porcelain
+      border</i>, and josses, and jars, and beakers, to match; and I can venture
+      to promise one vase of pre-eminent size and beauty.&mdash;Oh, indubitably!
+      if your la&rsquo;ship prefers it, you can have the <i>Egyptian hieroglyphic
+      paper</i>, with the <i>ibis border</i> to match!&mdash;The only objection
+      is, one sees it every where&mdash;quite antediluvian&mdash;gone to the
+      hotels even; but, to be sure, if your la&rsquo;ship has a fancy&mdash;at all
+      events, I humbly recommend, what her grace of Torcaster longs to
+      patronise, my MOON CURTAINS, with candlelight draperies. A demi-saison
+      elegance this&mdash;I hit off yesterday&mdash;and&mdash;True, your
+      la&rsquo;ship&rsquo;s quite correct&mdash;out of the common completely. And, of
+      course, you&rsquo;d have the <i>sphynx candelabras</i>, and the phoenix argands&mdash;Oh!
+      nothing else lights now, ma&rsquo;am!&mdash;Expense!&mdash;Expense of the whole!&mdash;Impossible
+      to calculate here on the spot!&mdash;but nothing at all worth your
+      ladyship&rsquo;s consideration!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At another moment, Lord Colambre might have been amused with all this
+      rhodomontade, and with the airs and voluble conceit of the orator; but,
+      after what he had heard at Mr. Mordicai&rsquo;s, this whole scene struck him
+      more with melancholy than with mirth. He was alarmed by the prospect of
+      new and unbounded expense; provoked, almost past enduring, by the jargon
+      and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and vexed to the heart, to
+      see his mother the dupe, the sport of such a coxcomb.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince of puppies!&mdash;Insufferable!&mdash;My own mother!&rdquo; Lord
+      Colambre repeated to himself, as he walked hastily up and down the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre, won&rsquo;t you let us have your judgment&mdash;your <i>teeste</i>?&rdquo;
+       said his mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;I have no taste, no judgment in these things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sometimes paused, and looked at Mr. Soho, with a strong inclination to&mdash;.
+      But knowing that he should say too much if he said any thing, he was
+      silent; never dared to approach the council table&mdash;but continued
+      walking up and down the room, till he heard a voice which at once arrested
+      his attention and soothed his ire. He approached the table instantly, and
+      listened, whilst Miss Nugent said every thing he wished to have said, and
+      with all the propriety and delicacy with which he thought he could not
+      have spoken. He leaned on the table, and fixed his eyes upon her&mdash;years
+      ago he had seen his cousin&mdash;last night he had thought her handsome,
+      pleasing, graceful&mdash;but now he saw a new person, or he saw her in a
+      new light. He marked the superior intelligence, the animation, the
+      eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst alternately, with arch
+      raillery, or grave humour, she played off Mr. Soho, and made him magnify
+      the ridicule, till it was apparent even to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the
+      anxiety lest his mother should expose her own foibles; he was touched by
+      the respectful, earnest kindness&mdash;the soft tones of persuasion with
+      which she addressed her&mdash;the care not to presume upon her own
+      influence&mdash;the good sense, the taste, she showed, yet not displaying
+      her superiority&mdash;the address, temper, and patience, with which she at
+      last accomplished her purpose, and prevented Lady Clonbrony from doing any
+      thing preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was ended&mdash;when
+      Mr. Soho departed&mdash;for Miss Nugent was then silent; and it was
+      necessary to remove his eyes from that countenance on which he had gazed
+      unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her
+      charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her without her
+      perceiving it&mdash;she seemed so intent upon others as totally to forget
+      herself. The whole train of Lord Colambre&rsquo;s thoughts was so completely
+      deranged, that, although he was sensible there was something of importance
+      he had to say to his mother, yet when Mr. Soho&rsquo;s departure left him
+      opportunity to speak, he stood silent, unable to recollect any thing but&mdash;Grace
+      Nugent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Miss Nugent left the room, after some minutes&rsquo; silence, and some
+      effort, Lord Colambre said to his mother, &ldquo;Pray, madam, do you know any
+      thing of Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, drawing up her head proudly; &ldquo;I know he is a
+      person I cannot endure. He is no friend of mine, I can assure you&mdash;nor
+      any such sort of person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought it was impossible!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, with exultation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I only wish your father, Colambre, could say as much,&rdquo; added Lady
+      Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre&rsquo;s countenance fell again; and again he was silent for some
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does my father dine at home, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose not; he seldom dines at home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps, ma&rsquo;am, my father may have some cause to be uneasy about&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About?&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone, and with a look of curiosity,
+      which convinced her son that she knew nothing of his debts or distresses,
+      if he had any. &ldquo;About what?&rdquo; repeated her ladyship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was no receding, and Lord Colambre never had recourse to artifice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About his affairs, I was going to say, madam. But, since you know nothing
+      of any difficulties or embarrassments, I am persuaded that none exist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, I <i>cawnt</i> tell you that, Colambre. There are difficulties for
+      ready money, I confess, when I ask for it, which surprise me often. I know
+      nothing of affairs&mdash;ladies of a certain rank seldom do, you know.
+      But, considering your father&rsquo;s estate, and the fortune I brought him,&rdquo;
+       added her ladyship, proudly, &ldquo;I <i>cawnt</i> conceive it at all. Grace
+      Nugent, indeed, often talks to me of embarrassments and economy; but that,
+      poor thing! is very natural for her, because her fortune is not
+      particularly large, and she has left it all, or almost all, in her uncle
+      and guardian&rsquo;s hands. I know she&rsquo;s often distressed for odd money to lend
+      me, and that makes her anxious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not Miss Nugent very much admired, ma&rsquo;am, in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course&mdash;in the company she is in, you know, she has every
+      advantage. And she has a natural family air of fashion&mdash;Not but what
+      she would have <i>got on</i> much better, if, when she first appeared in
+      Lon&rsquo;on, she had taken my advice, and wrote herself on her cards Miss de
+      Nogent, which would have taken off the prejudice against the <i>Iricism</i>
+      of Nugent, you know; and there is a Count de Nogent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know there was any such prejudice, ma&rsquo;am. There may be among a
+      certain set; but, I should think, not among well-informed, well-bred
+      people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I <i>big</i> your <i>pawdon</i>, Colambre; surely I, that was born in
+      England, an Henglishwoman <i>bawn</i>, must be well <i>infawmed</i> on
+      this <i>pint</i>, any way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was respectfully silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; resumed he, &ldquo;I wonder that Miss Nugent is not married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is her own fau&rsquo;t entirely; she has refused very good offers&mdash;establishments
+      that I own I think, as Lady Langdale says, I was to blame to allow her to
+      let pass: but young <i>ledies</i>, till they are twenty, always think they
+      can do better. Mr. Martingale, of Martingale, proposed for her, but she
+      objected to him on account of <i>he&rsquo;es</i> being on the turf; and Mr. St.
+      Albans&rsquo; 7000<i>l.</i> a-year, because&mdash;I <i>reelly</i> forget what&mdash;I
+      believe only because she did not like him&mdash;and something about
+      principles. Now there is Colonel Heathcock, one of the most fashionable
+      young men you see, always with the Duchess of Torcaster and that set&mdash;Heathcock
+      takes a vast deal of notice of her, for him; and yet, I&rsquo;m persuaded, she
+      would not have him to-morrow if he came to the <i>pint</i>, and for no
+      reason, <i>reelly</i> now, that she can give me, but because she says he&rsquo;s
+      a coxcomb. Grace has a tincture of Irish pride. But, for my part, I
+      rejoice that she is so difficult; for I don&rsquo;t know what I should do
+      without her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Nugent is indeed&mdash;very much attached to you, mother, I am
+      convinced,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, beginning his sentence with great
+      enthusiasm, and ending it with great sobriety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, then, she&rsquo;s a sweet girl, and I am very partial to her, there&rsquo;s
+      the truth,&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony, in an undisguised Irish accent, and with
+      her natural warm manner. But, a moment afterwards, her features and whole
+      form resumed their constrained stillness and stiffness, and in her English
+      accent she continued, &ldquo;Before you put my <i>idears</i> out of my head,
+      Colambre, I had something to say to you&mdash;Oh! I know what it was&mdash;we
+      were talking of embarrassments&mdash;and I wish to do your father the
+      justice to mention to you, that he has been <i>uncommon liberal</i> to me
+      about this gala, and has <i>reelly</i> given me carte blanche; and I&rsquo;ve a
+      notion&mdash;indeed I know,&mdash;that it is you, Colambre, I am to thank
+      for this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me, ma&rsquo;am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes: did not your father give you any hint?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma&rsquo;am; I have seen my father but for half an hour since I came to
+      town, and in that time he said nothing to me&mdash;of his affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what I allude to is more your affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did not speak to me of any affairs, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;he spoke only of my
+      horses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I suppose my lord leaves it to me to open the matter to you. I have
+      the pleasure to tell you, that we have in view for you&mdash;and, I think
+      I may say, with more than the approbation of all her family&mdash;an
+      alliance&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear mother! you cannot be serious,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre; &ldquo;you
+      know I am not of years of discretion yet&mdash;I shall not think of
+      marrying these ten years, at least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? Nay, my dear Colambre, don&rsquo;t go, I beg&mdash;I am serious, I
+      assure you&mdash;and, to convince you of it, I shall tell you candidly, at
+      once, all your father told me: that now you&rsquo;ve done with Cambridge, and
+      are come to Lon&rsquo;on, he agrees with me in wishing that you should make the
+      figure you ought to make, Colambre, as sole heir apparent to the Clonbrony
+      estate, and all that sort of thing; but, on the other hand, living in
+      Lon&rsquo;on, and making you the handsome allowance you ought to have, are, both
+      together, more than your father can afford, without inconvenience, he
+      tells me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I assure you, mother, I shall be content&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; you must not be content, child, and you must hear me: you must
+      live in a becoming style, and make a proper appearance. I could not
+      present you to my friends here, nor be happy, if you did not, Colambre.
+      Now the way is clear before you: you have birth and title, here is fortune
+      ready made&mdash;you will have a noble estate of your own when old Quin
+      dies, and you will not be any encumbrance or inconvenience to your father
+      or any body. Marrying an heiress accomplishes all this at once&mdash;and
+      the young lady is every thing we could wish besides&mdash;you will meet
+      again at the gala. Indeed, between ourselves, she is the grand object of
+      the gala&mdash;all her friends will come <i>en masse</i>, and one should
+      wish that they should see things in proper style. You have seen the young
+      lady in question, Colambre&mdash;Miss Broadhurst&mdash;Don&rsquo;t you recollect
+      the young lady I introduced you to last night after the opera?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little plain girl, covered with diamonds, who was standing beside
+      Miss Nugent?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In di&rsquo;monds, yes&mdash;But you won&rsquo;t think her plain when you see more of
+      her&mdash;that wears off&mdash;I thought her plain, at first&mdash;I hope&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;that you will not take it unkindly of me,
+      my dear mother, if I tell you, at once, that I have no thoughts of
+      marrying at present&mdash;and that I never will marry for money: marrying
+      an heiress is not even a new way of paying old debts&mdash;at all events,
+      it is one to which no distress could persuade me to have recourse; and as
+      I must, if I outlive old Mr. Quin, have an independent fortune, <i>there
+      is no</i> occasion to purchase one by marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no distress that I know of in the case,&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony.
+      &ldquo;Where is your imagination running, Colambre? But merely for your
+      establishment, your independence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Establishment, I want none&mdash;independence I do desire, and will
+      preserve. Assure my father, my <i>dear mother</i>, that I will not be an
+      expense to him&mdash;I will live within the allowance he made me at
+      Cambridge&mdash;I will give up half of it&mdash;I will do any thing for
+      his convenience&mdash;but marry for money, that I cannot do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, Colambre, you are very disobliging,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, with an
+      expression of disappointment and displeasure; &ldquo;for your father says if you
+      don&rsquo;t marry Miss Broadhurst, we can&rsquo;t live in Lon&rsquo;on another winter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This said&mdash;which had she been at the moment mistress of herself, she
+      would not have betrayed&mdash;Lady Clonbrony abruptly quitted the room.
+      Her son stood motionless, saying to himself, &ldquo;Is this my mother?&mdash;How
+      altered!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning he seized an opportunity of speaking to his father, whom
+      he caught with difficulty just when he was going out, as usual, for the
+      day. Lord Colambre, with all the respect due to his father, and with that
+      affectionate manner by which he always knew how to soften the strength of
+      his expressions, made nearly the same declarations of his resolution, by
+      which his mother had been so much surprised and offended. Lord Clonbrony
+      seemed more embarrassed, but not so much displeased. When Lord Colambre
+      adverted, as delicately as he could, to the selfishness of desiring from
+      him the sacrifice of liberty for life, to say nothing of his affections,
+      merely to enable his family to make a splendid figure in London, Lord
+      Clonbrony exclaimed, &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all nonsense!&mdash;cursed nonsense! That&rsquo;s
+      the way we are obliged to state the thing to your mother, my dear boy,
+      because I might talk her deaf before she would understand or listen to any
+      thing else; but, for my own share, I don&rsquo;t care a rush if London was sunk
+      in the salt sea. Little Dublin for my money, as Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay says.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, may I ask, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, don&rsquo;t you know Terry?&mdash;Ay, you&rsquo;ve been so long at Cambridge&mdash;I
+      forgot. And did you never see Terry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have seen him, sir.&mdash;I met him yesterday at Mr. Mordicai&rsquo;s, the
+      coachmaker&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mordicai&rsquo;s!&rdquo; exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden blush, which he
+      endeavoured to hide, by taking snuff. &ldquo;He is a damned rascal, that
+      Mordicai! I hope you didn&rsquo;t believe a word he said&mdash;nobody does that
+      knows him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad, sir, that you seem to know him so well, and to be upon your
+      guard against him,&rdquo; replied Lord Colambre; &ldquo;for, from what I heard of his
+      conversation, when he was not aware who I was, I am convinced he would do
+      you any injury in his power.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He shall never have me in his power, I promise him. We shall take care of
+      that&mdash;But what did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai had said, and Lord
+      Clonbrony reiterated, &ldquo;Damned rascal!&mdash;damned rascal!&mdash;I&rsquo;ll get
+      out of his hands&mdash;I&rsquo;ll have no more to do with him.&rdquo; But, as he
+      spoke, he exhibited evident symptoms of uneasiness, moving continually,
+      and shifting from leg to leg, like a foundered horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He could not bring himself positively to deny that he had debts and
+      difficulties; but he would by no means open the state of his affairs to
+      his son: &ldquo;No father is called upon to do that,&rdquo; said he to himself; &ldquo;none
+      but a fool would do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, perceiving his father&rsquo;s embarrassment, withdrew his eyes,
+      respectfully refrained from all further inquiries, and simply repeated the
+      assurance he had made to his mother, that he would put his family to no
+      additional expense; and that, if it was necessary, he would willingly give
+      up half his allowance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all, not at all, my dear boy,&rdquo; said his father: &ldquo;I would rather
+      cramp myself than that you should be cramped, a thousand times over. But
+      it is all my Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s nonsense. If people would but, as they
+      ought, stay in their own country, live on their own estates, and kill
+      their own mutton, money need never be wanting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For killing their own mutton, Lord Colambre did not see the indispensable
+      necessity; but he rejoiced to hear his father assert that people should
+      reside in their own country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony, to strengthen his assertion, as he always
+      thought it necessary to do, by quoting some other person&rsquo;s opinion&mdash;&ldquo;so
+      Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay always says, and that&rsquo;s the reason your mother can&rsquo;t
+      endure poor Terry&mdash;You don&rsquo;t know Terry? No, you have only seen him;
+      but, indeed, to see him is to know him; for he is the most off-hand, good
+      fellow in Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t pretend to know him yet,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. &ldquo;I am not so
+      presumptuous as to form my opinion at first sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, curse your modesty!&rdquo; interrupted Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;you mean, you don&rsquo;t
+      pretend to like him yet; but Terry will make you like him. I defy you not&mdash;I&rsquo;ll
+      introduce you to him&mdash;him to you, I mean&mdash;most warm-hearted,
+      generous dog upon earth&mdash;convivial&mdash;jovial&mdash;with wit and
+      humour enough, in his own way, to split you&mdash;split me if he has not.
+      You need not cast down your eyes, Colambre. What&rsquo;s your objection?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have made none, sir&mdash;but, if you urge me, I can only say, that, if
+      he has all these good qualities, it is to be regretted that he does not
+      look and speak a little more like a gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A gentleman!&mdash;he is as much a gentleman as any of your formal prigs&mdash;not
+      the exact Cambridge cut, may be&mdash;Curse your English education! &lsquo;twas
+      none of my advice&mdash;I suppose you mean to take after your mother in
+      the notion, that nothing can be good or genteel but what&rsquo;s English.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Far from it, sir; I assure you I am as warm a friend to Ireland as your
+      heart could wish. You will have no reason, in that respect, at least, nor,
+      I hope, in any other, to curse my English education&mdash;and, if my
+      gratitude and affection can avail, you shall never regret the kindness and
+      liberality with which you have, I fear, distressed yourself to afford me
+      the means of becoming all that a British nobleman ought to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gad! you distress me now,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;and I didn&rsquo;t expect it,
+      or I wouldn&rsquo;t make a fool of myself this way,&rdquo; added he, ashamed of his
+      emotion, and whiffling it off. &ldquo;You have an Irish heart, that I see, which
+      no education can spoil. But you must like Terry&mdash;I&rsquo;ll give you time,
+      as he said to me, when first he taught me to like usquebaugh&mdash;Good
+      morning to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Lady Clonbrony, in consequence of her residence in London, had
+      become more of a fine lady, Lord Clonbrony, since he left Ireland, had
+      become less of a gentleman. Lady Clonbrony, born an Englishwoman,
+      disclaiming and disencumbering herself of all the Irish in town, had, by
+      giving splendid entertainments, at an enormous expense, made her way into
+      a certain set of fashionable company. But Lord Clonbrony, who was somebody
+      in Ireland, who was a great person in Dublin, found himself nobody in
+      England, a mere cipher in London. Looked down upon by the fine people with
+      whom his lady associated, and heartily weary of them, he retreated from
+      them altogether, and sought entertainment and self-complacency in society
+      beneath him, indeed, both in rank and education, but in which he had the
+      satisfaction of feeling himself the first person in company. Of these
+      associates, the first in talents, and in jovial profligacy, was Sir
+      Terence O&rsquo;Fay&mdash;a man of low extraction, who had been knighted by an
+      Irish lord-lieutenant in some convivial frolic. No one could tell a good
+      story, or sing a good song, better than Sir Terence; he exaggerated his
+      native brogue, and his natural propensity to blunder, caring little
+      whether the company laughed at him or with him, provided they laughed&mdash;&ldquo;Live
+      and laugh&mdash;laugh and live,&rdquo; was his motto; and certainly he lived on
+      laughing, as well as many better men can contrive to live on a thousand
+      a-year.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony brought Sir Terence home with him next day, to introduce
+      him to Lord Colambre; and it happened that, on this occasion, Terence
+      appeared to peculiar disadvantage, because, like many other people, &ldquo;Il
+      gâtoit l&rsquo;esprit qu&rsquo;il avoit, en voulant avoir celui qu&rsquo;il n&rsquo;avoit pas.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having been apprised that Lord Colambre was a fine scholar, fresh from
+      Cambridge, and being conscious of his own deficiencies of literature,
+      instead of trusting to his natural talents, he summoned to his aid, with
+      no small effort, all the scraps of learning he had acquired in early days,
+      and even brought before the company all the gods and goddesses with whom
+      he had formed an acquaintance at school. Though embarrassed by this
+      unusual encumbrance of learning, he endeavoured to make all subservient to
+      his immediate design, of paying his court to Lady Clonbrony, by forwarding
+      the object she had most anxiously in view&mdash;the match between her son
+      and Miss Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so, Miss Nugent,&rdquo; said he, not daring, with all his assurance, to
+      address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;and so, Miss Nugent, you are
+      going to have great doings, I&rsquo;m told, and a wonderful grand gala. There&rsquo;s
+      nothing in the wide world equal to being in a good handsome crowd. No
+      later now than the last ball at the Castle, that was before I left Dublin,
+      Miss Nugent, the apartments, owing to the popularity of my lady
+      lieutenant, was so throng&mdash;so throng&mdash;that I remember very well,
+      in the doorway, a lady&mdash;and a very genteel woman she was, too&mdash;though
+      a stranger to me, saying to me, &lsquo;Sir, your finger&rsquo;s in my ear.&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;I
+      know it, madam,&rdquo; says I; &lsquo;but I can&rsquo;t take it out till the crowd give me
+      elbow-room.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it&rsquo;s the gala I&rsquo;m thinking of now&mdash;I hear you are to have the
+      golden Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This freezing monosyllable notwithstanding, Sir Terence pursued his course
+      fluently. &ldquo;The golden Venus!&mdash;sure, Miss Nugent, you that are so
+      quick, can&rsquo;t but know I would apostrophize Miss Broadhurst that is&mdash;but
+      that won&rsquo;t be long so, I hope. My Lord Colambre, have you seen much yet of
+      that young lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I hope you won&rsquo;t be long so. I hear great talk now of the Venus of
+      Medici, and the Venus of this and that, with the Florence Venus, and the
+      sable Venus, and that other Venus, that&rsquo;s washing of her hair, and a
+      hundred other Venuses, some good, some bad. But, be that as it will, my
+      lord, trust a fool&mdash;ye may, when he tells you truth&mdash;the golden
+      Venus is the only one on earth that can stand, or that will stand, through
+      all ages and temperatures; for gold rules the court, gold rules the camp,
+      and men below, and heaven above.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven above!&mdash;Take care, Terry! Do you know what you are saying?&rdquo;
+       interrupted Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I?&mdash;Don&rsquo;t I?&rdquo; replied Terry. &ldquo;Deny, if you please, my lord, that
+      it was for a golden pippin that the three goddesses <i>fit</i>&mdash;and
+      that the <i>Hippomenes</i> was about golden apples&mdash;and did not
+      Hercules rob a garden for golden apples?&mdash;and did not the pious Æneas
+      himself take a golden branch with him to make himself welcome to his
+      father in hell?&rdquo; said Sir Terence, winking at Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Terry, you know more about books than I should have suspected,&rdquo; said
+      Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor you would not have suspected me to have such a great acquaintance
+      among the goddesses neither, would you, my lord? But, apropos, before we
+      quit, of what material, think ye, was that same Venus&rsquo;s famous girdle,
+      now, that made roses and lilies so quickly appear? Why, what was it but a
+      girdle of sterling gold, I&rsquo;ll engage?&mdash;for gold is the only true
+      thing for a young man to look after in a wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence paused, but no applause ensued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let them talk of Cupids and darts, and the mother of the Loves and Graces&mdash;Minerva
+      may sing odes and <i>dythambrics</i>, or whatsoever her wisdomship
+      pleases. Let her sing, or let her say, she&rsquo;ll never get a husband, in this
+      world or the other, without she had a good thumping <i>fortin</i>, and
+      then she&rsquo;d go off like wildfire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, Terry, there you&rsquo;re out: Minerva has too bad a character for
+      learning to be a favourite with gentlemen,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut&mdash;Don&rsquo;t tell me!&mdash;I&rsquo;d get her off before you could say Jack
+      Robinson, and thank you too, if she had 50,000<i>l.</i> down, or 1,000<i>l.</i>
+      a-year in land. Would you have a man so d&mdash;&mdash;d nice as to balk,
+      when house and land is agoing&mdash;a going&mdash;a going!&mdash;because
+      of the incumbrance of a little learning? But, after all, I never heard
+      that Miss Broadhurst was any thing of a learned lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst!&rdquo; said Miss Nugent: &ldquo;how did you get round to Miss
+      Broadhurst?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! by the way of Tipperary,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, my lord, it was apropos to good fortune, which, I
+      hope, will not be out of your way, even if you went by Tipperary. She has,
+      besides 100,000<i>l.</i> in the funds, a clear landed property of 10,000<i>l.</i>
+      per annum. <i>Well! some people talk of morality, and some of religion,
+      bat give me a little snug</i> PROPERTY.&mdash;But, my lord, I&rsquo;ve a little
+      business to transact this morning, and must not be idling and indulging
+      myself here.&rdquo; So, bowing to the ladies, he departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really, I am glad that man is gone,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;What a relief
+      to one&rsquo;s ears! I am sure I wonder, my lord, how you can bear to carry that
+      strange creature always about with you&mdash;so vulgar as he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He diverts me,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;while many of your correct-mannered
+      fine ladies or gentlemen put me to sleep. What signifies what accent
+      people speak in, that have nothing to say, hey, Colambre?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, from respect to his father, did not express his opinion;
+      but his aversion to Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay was stronger even than his mother&rsquo;s,
+      though Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s detestation of him was much increased by
+      perceiving that his coarse hints about Miss Broadhurst had operated
+      against her favourite scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning, at breakfast, Lord Clonbrony talked of bringing Sir
+      Terence with him that night to her gala&mdash;she absolutely grew pale
+      with horror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens!&mdash;Lady Langdale, Mrs. Dareville, Lady Pococke, Lady
+      Chatterton, Lady D&mdash;&mdash;, Lady G&mdash;&mdash;, His Grace of V&mdash;&mdash;;
+      what would they think of him! And Miss Broadhurst, to see him going about
+      with my Lord Clonbrony!&rdquo;&mdash;It could not be. No&mdash;her ladyship made
+      the most solemn and desperate protestation, that she would sooner give up
+      her gala altogether&mdash;tie up the knocker&mdash;say she was sick&mdash;rather
+      be sick, or be dead, than be obliged to have such a creature as Sir
+      Terence O&rsquo;Fay at her gala.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have it your own way, my dear, as you have every thing else,&rdquo; cried Lord
+      Clonbrony, taking up his hat, and preparing to decamp; &ldquo;but, take notice,
+      if you won&rsquo;t receive him, you need not expect me. So a good morning to
+      you, my Lady Clonbrony. You may find a worse friend in need yet, than that
+      same Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust I shall never be in need, my lord,&rdquo; replied her ladyship. &ldquo;It
+      would be strange indeed if I were, with the fortune I brought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that fortune of hers!&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony, stopping both his ears
+      as he ran out of his room: &ldquo;shall I never hear the end of that fortune,
+      when I&rsquo;ve seen the end of it long ago?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      During this matrimonial dialogue, Miss Nugent and Lord Colambre never once
+      looked at each other. She was very diligently trying the changes that
+      could be made in the positions of a china-mouse, a cat, a dog, a cup, and
+      a brahmin, on the mantel-piece; Lord Colambre as diligently reading the
+      newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, my dear Colambre,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;put down the paper, and
+      listen to me. Let me entreat you not to neglect Miss Broadhurst to-night,
+      as I know that the family come here chiefly on your account.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear mother, I never can neglect any one of your guests; but I shall
+      be careful not to show any particular attention to Miss Broadhurst, for I
+      never will pretend what I do not feel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Colambre, Miss Broadhurst is every thing you could wish,
+      except being a beauty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps, madam,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, fixing his eyes on Miss Nugent, &ldquo;you
+      think that I can see no farther than a handsome face?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The unconscious Grace Nugent now made a warm eulogium of Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s
+      sense, and wit, and independence of character.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that Miss Broadhurst was a friend of yours, Miss Nugent?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is, I assure you, a friend of mine; and, as a proof, I will not
+      praise her at this moment. I will go farther still&mdash;I will promise
+      that I never will praise her to you till you begin to praise her to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre smiled, and now listened as if he wished that she should go
+      on speaking, even of Miss Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s my sweet Grace!&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;Oh! she knows how to
+      manage these men&mdash;not one of them can resist her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, for his part, did not deny the truth of this assertion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace,&rdquo; added Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;make him promise to do as we would have
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;promises are dangerous things to ask or to give,&rdquo; said Grace.
+      &ldquo;Men and naughty children never make promises, especially promises to be
+      good, without longing to break them the next minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, at least, child, persuade him, I charge you, to make my gala go off
+      well. That&rsquo;s the first thing we ought to think of now. Ring the bell!&mdash;And
+      all heads and hands I put in requisition for the gala.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The opening of her gala, the display of her splendid reception rooms, the
+      Turkish tent, the Alhambra, the pagoda, formed a proud moment to Lady
+      Clonbrony. Much did she enjoy, and much too naturally, notwithstanding all
+      her efforts to be stiff and stately, much too naturally did she show her
+      enjoyment of the surprise excited in some and affected by others on their
+      first entrance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One young, very young lady expressed her astonishment so audibly as to
+      attract the notice of all the bystanders. Lady Clonbrony, delighted,
+      seized both her hands, shook them, and laughed heartily; then, as the
+      young lady with her party passed on, her ladyship recovered herself, drew
+      up her head, and said to the company near her, &ldquo;Poor thing! I hope I
+      covered her little <i>naïveté</i> properly. How NEW she must be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then with well practised dignity, and half subdued self-complacency of
+      aspect, her ladyship went gliding about&mdash;most importantly busy,
+      introducing my lady <i>this</i> to the sphynx candelabra, and my lady <i>that</i>
+      to the Trebisond trellice; placing some delightfully for the perspective
+      of the Alhambra; establishing others quite to her satisfaction on seraglio
+      ottomans; and honouring others with a seat under the Statira canopy.
+      Receiving and answering compliments from successive crowds of select
+      friends, imagining herself the mirror of fashion, and the admiration of
+      the whole world, Lady Clonbrony was, for her hour, as happy certainly as
+      ever woman was in similar circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her son looked at her, and wished that this happiness could last.
+      Naturally inclined to sympathy, Lord Colambre reproached himself for not
+      feeling as gay at this instant as the occasion required. But the festive
+      scene, the blazing lights, the &ldquo;universal hubbub,&rdquo; failed to raise his
+      spirits. As a dead weight upon them hung the remembrance of Mordicai&rsquo;s
+      denunciations; and, through the midst of this eastern magnificence, this
+      unbounded profusion, he thought he saw future domestic misery and ruin to
+      those he loved best in the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The only object present on which his eye rested with pleasure was Grace
+      Nugent. Beautiful&mdash;in elegant and dignified simplicity&mdash;
+      thoughtless of herself&mdash;yet with a look of thought, and with an air
+      of melancholy, which accorded exactly with his own feelings, and which he
+      believed to arise from the same reflections that had passed in his own
+      mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst, Colambre! all the Broadhursts!&rdquo; said his mother,
+      wakening him as she passed by to receive them as they entered. Miss
+      Broadhurst appeared, plainly dressed&mdash;plainly even to singularity&mdash;without
+      any diamonds or ornament.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brought Philippa to you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, this figure, rather than
+      not bring her at all,&rdquo; said puffing Mrs. Broadhurst, &ldquo;and had all the
+      difficulty in the world to get her out at all, and now I&rsquo;ve promised she
+      shall stay but half an hour. Sore throat&mdash;terrible cold she took in
+      the morning. I&rsquo;ll swear for her, she&rsquo;d not have come for any one but you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young lady did not seem inclined to swear, or even to say this for
+      herself; she stood wonderfully unconcerned and passive, with an expression
+      of humour lurking in her eyes, and about the corners of her mouth; whilst
+      Lady Clonbrony was &ldquo;shocked,&rdquo; and &ldquo;gratified,&rdquo; and &ldquo;concerned,&rdquo; and
+      &ldquo;flattered;&rdquo; and whilst every body was hoping, and fearing, and busying
+      themselves about her, &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst, you&rsquo;d better sit here!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Oh,
+      for heaven&rsquo;s sake! Miss Broadhurst, not there!&rdquo; &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst, if
+      you&rsquo;ll take my opinion,&rdquo; and &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst, if I may advise&mdash;.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace Nugent!&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst always listens to
+      you. Do, my dear, persuade Miss Broadhurst to take care of herself, and
+      let us take her to the inner little pagoda, where she can be so warm and
+      so retired&mdash;the very thing for an invalid&mdash;Colambre! pioneer the
+      way for us, for the crowd&rsquo;s immense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Anne and Lady Catherine H&mdash;&mdash;, Lady Langdale&rsquo;s daughters,
+      were at this time leaning on Miss Nugent&rsquo;s arm, and moved along with this
+      party to the inner pagoda. There were to be cards in one room, music in
+      another, dancing in a third, and in this little room there were prints and
+      chess-boards, &amp;c.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here you will be quite to yourselves,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;let me
+      establish you comfortably in this, which I call my sanctuary&mdash;my <i>snuggery</i>&mdash;Colambre,
+      that little table!&mdash;Miss Broadhurst, you play chess?&mdash;Colambre,
+      you&rsquo;ll play with Miss Broadhurst&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank your ladyship,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst, &ldquo;but I know nothing of
+      chess but the moves: Lady Catherine, you will play, and I will look on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Broadhurst drew her seat to the fire; Lady Catherine sat down to play
+      with Lord Colambre: Lady Clonbrony withdrew, again recommending Miss
+      Broadhurst to Grace Nugent&rsquo;s care. After some commonplace conversation,
+      Lady Anne H&mdash;&mdash;, looking at the company in the adjoining
+      apartment, asked her sister how old Miss Somebody was who passed by. This
+      led to reflections upon the comparative age and youthful appearance of
+      several of their acquaintance, and upon the care with which mothers
+      concealed the age of their daughters. Glances passed between Lady
+      Catherine and Lady Anne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst, &ldquo;my mother would labour that point of
+      secrecy in vain for me; for I am willing to tell my age, even if my face
+      did not tell it for me, to all whom it may concern&mdash;I am passed
+      three-and-twenty&mdash;shall be four-and-twenty the fifth of next July.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three-and-twenty!&mdash;Bless me!&mdash;I thought you were not twenty!&rdquo;
+       cried Lady Anne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Four-and-twenty next July!&mdash;impossible!&rdquo; cried Lady Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very possible,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst, quite unconcerned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Lord Colambre, would you believe it? Can you believe it?&rdquo; asked Lady
+      Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he can,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see that he believes it as
+      firmly as you and I do? Why should you force his lordship to pay a
+      compliment contrary to his better judgment, or extort a smile from him
+      under false pretences? I am sure he sees that you, and I trust he
+      perceives that I, do not think the worse of him for this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre smiled now without any false pretence; and, relieved at once
+      from all apprehension of her joining in his mother&rsquo;s views, or of her
+      expecting particular attention from him, he became at ease with Miss
+      Broadhurst, showed a desire to converse with her, and listened eagerly to
+      what she said. He recollected that Miss Nugent had told him, that this
+      young lady had no common character; and, neglecting his move at chess, he
+      looked up at Miss Nugent, as much as to say, &ldquo;<i>Draw her out</i>, pray.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Grace was too good a friend to comply with that request; she left Miss
+      Broadhurst to unfold her own character.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is your move, my lord,&rdquo; said Lady Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your ladyship&rsquo;s pardon&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are not these rooms beautiful, Miss Broadhurst?&rdquo; said Lady Catherine,
+      determined, if possible, to turn the conversation into a commonplace, safe
+      channel; for she had just felt, what most of Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s
+      acquaintance had in their turn felt, that she had an odd way of startling
+      people, by setting their own secret little motives suddenly before them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are not these rooms beautiful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beautiful!&mdash;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The beauty of the rooms would have answered Lady Catherine&rsquo;s purpose for
+      some time, had not Lady Anne imprudently brought the conversation back
+      again to Miss Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know, Miss Broadhurst,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;that if I had fifty sore
+      throats, I could not have refrained from my diamonds on this GALA night;
+      and such diamonds as you have! Now, really, I could not believe you to be
+      the same person we saw blazing at the opera the other night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really! could not you, Lady Anne? That is the very thing that entertains
+      me. I only wish that I could lay aside my fortune sometimes, as well as my
+      diamonds, and see how few people would know me then. Might not I, Grace,
+      by the golden rule, which, next to practice, is the best rule in the
+      world, calculate and answer that question?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am persuaded,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;that Miss Broadhurst has friends on
+      whom the experiment would make no difference.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of it,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst; &ldquo;and that is what makes me
+      tolerably happy, though I have the misfortune to be an heiress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the oddest speech,&rdquo; said Lady Anne. &ldquo;Now I should so like to be a
+      great heiress, and to have, like you, such thousands and thousands at
+      command.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what can the thousands upon thousands do for me? Hearts, you know,
+      Lady Anne, are to be won only by radiant eyes. Bought hearts your ladyship
+      certainly would not recommend. They&rsquo;re such poor things&mdash;no wear at
+      all. Turn them which way you will, you can make nothing of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve tried, then, have you?&rdquo; said Lady Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To my cost.&mdash;Very nearly taken in by them half a dozen times; for
+      they are brought to me by dozens; and they are so made up for sale, and
+      the people do so swear to you that it&rsquo;s real, real love, and it looks so
+      like it: and, if you stoop to examine it, you hear it pressed upon you by
+      such elegant oaths.&mdash;By all that&rsquo;s lovely!&mdash;By all my hopes of
+      happiness!&mdash;By your own charming self! Why, what can one do but look
+      like a fool, and believe? for these men, at the time, all look so like
+      gentlemen, that one cannot bring oneself flatly to tell them that they are
+      cheats and swindlers, that they are perjuring their precious souls.
+      Besides, to call a lover a perjured creature is to encourage him. He would
+      have a right to complain if you went back after that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! what a move was there!&rdquo; cried Lady Catherine. &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst is
+      so entertaining to-night, notwithstanding her sore throat, that one can
+      positively attend to nothing else. And she talks of love and lovers too
+      with such <i>connoissance de fait</i>&mdash;counts her lovers by dozens,
+      tied up in true lovers&rsquo; knots!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&mdash;no, no! Did I say lovers?&mdash;suitors I should have said.
+      There&rsquo;s nothing less like a lover, a true lover, than a suitor, as all the
+      world knows, ever since the days of Penelope. Dozens!&mdash;never had a
+      lover in my life!&mdash;And fear, with much reason, I never shall have one
+      to my mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, you&rsquo;ve given up the game,&rdquo; cried Lady Catherine; &ldquo;but you make
+      no battle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be so vain to combat against your ladyship,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre,
+      rising, and bowing politely to Lady Catherine, but turning the next
+      instant to converse with Miss Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But when I talked of liking to be an heiress,&rdquo; said Lady Anne, &ldquo;I was not
+      thinking of lovers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&mdash;One is not always thinking of lovers, you know,&rdquo; added
+      Lady Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not always,&rdquo; replied Miss Broadhurst. &ldquo;Well, lovers out of the question
+      on all sides, what would your ladyship buy with the thousands upon
+      thousands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, every thing, if I were you,&rdquo; said Lady Anne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rank, to begin with,&rdquo; said Lady Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still my old objection&mdash;bought rank is but a shabby thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there is so little difference made between bought and hereditary rank
+      in these days,&rdquo; said Lady Catherine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see a great deal still,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst; &ldquo;so much, that I would
+      never buy a title.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A title, without birth, to be sure,&rdquo; said Lady Anne, &ldquo;would not be so
+      well worth buying; and as birth certainly is not to be bought&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not buy,&rdquo; said Miss
+      Broadhurst, &ldquo;unless I could be sure to have it with all the politeness,
+      all the noble sentiments, all the magnanimity, in short, all that should
+      grace and dignify high birth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Admirable!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. Grace Nugent smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my mother in mind, I
+      must go away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it,&rdquo; said his lordship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?&rdquo; said Lady Anne. &ldquo;Miss
+      Nugent, I am afraid we have made Miss Broadhurst talk so much, in spite of
+      her hoarseness, that Lady Clonbrony will be quite angry with us. And here
+      she comes, Lady Catherine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss Broadhurst would not
+      think of running away; but Miss Broadhurst could not be prevailed upon to
+      stay. Lady Clonbrony was delighted to see that her son assisted Grace
+      Nugent most carefully in <i>shawling</i> the young heiress&mdash;his
+      lordship conducted her to her carriage, and his mother drew many happy
+      auguries from the gallantry of his manner, and from the young lady&rsquo;s
+      having stayed three quarters, instead of half an hour&mdash;a circumstance
+      which Lady Catherine did not fail to remark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dancing, which, under various pretences, Lady Clonbrony had delayed
+      till Lord Colambre was at liberty, began immediately after Miss
+      Broadhurst&rsquo;s departure; and the chalked mosaic pavement of the Alhambra
+      was, in a few minutes, effaced by the dancers&rsquo; feet. How transient are all
+      human joys, especially those of vanity! Even on this long meditated, this
+      long desired, this gala night, Lady Clonbrony found her triumph incomplete&mdash;inadequate
+      to her expectations. For the first hour all had been compliment, success,
+      and smiles; presently came the <i>buts</i>, and the hesitated objections,
+      and the &ldquo;damning with faint praise&rdquo;&mdash;all <i>that</i> could be borne&mdash;every
+      body has his taste&mdash;and one person&rsquo;s taste is as good as another&rsquo;s;
+      and while she had Mr. Soho to cite, Lady Clonbrony thought she might be
+      well satisfied. But she could not be satisfied with Colonel Heathcock,
+      who, dressed in black, had stretched his &ldquo;fashionable length of limb&rdquo;
+       under the Statira canopy, upon the snow-white swandown couch. When, after
+      having monopolized attention, and been the subject of much bad wit, about
+      black swans and rare birds, and swans being geese and geese being swans,
+      the colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville said, to vacate
+      his couch&mdash;that couch was no longer white&mdash;the black impression
+      of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh, now! really didn&rsquo;t recollect I was in black,&rdquo; was all the apology he
+      made. Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed that the appearance of the
+      Statira canopy should be spoiled before the effect had been seen by Lady
+      Pococke, and Lady Chatterton, and Lady G&mdash;&mdash;, Lady P&mdash;&mdash;,
+      and the Duke of V&mdash;&mdash;, and a party of superlative fashionables,
+      who had promised <i>to look in upon her</i>, but who, late as it was, had
+      not yet arrived. They came in at last. But Lady Clonbrony had no reason to
+      regret for their sake the Statira couch. It would have been lost upon
+      them, as was every thing else which she had prepared with so much pains
+      and cost to excite their admiration. They came resolute not to admire.
+      Skilled in the art of making others unhappy, they just looked round with
+      an air of apathy.&mdash;&ldquo;Ah! you&rsquo;ve had Soho!&mdash;Soho has done wonders
+      for you here!&mdash;Vastly well!&mdash;Vastly well!&mdash;Soho&rsquo;s very
+      clever in his way!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Others of great importance came in, full of some slight accident that had
+      happened to themselves, or their horses, or their carriages; and, with
+      privileged selfishness, engrossed the attention of all within their sphere
+      of conversation. Well, Lady Clonbrony got over all this; and got over the
+      history of a letter about a chimney that was on fire, a week ago, at the
+      Duke of V&mdash;&mdash;&lsquo;s old house, in Brecknockshire. In gratitude for
+      the smiling patience with which she listened to him, his Grace of V&mdash;&mdash;
+      fixed his glass to look at the Alhambra, and had just pronounced it to be
+      &ldquo;Well!&mdash;very well!&rdquo; when the Dowager Lady Chatterton made a terrible
+      discovery&mdash;a discovery that filled Lady Clonbrony with astonishment
+      and indignation&mdash;Mr. Soho had played her false! What was her
+      mortification, when the dowager assured her that these identical Alhambra
+      hangings had not only been shown by Mr. Soho to the Duchess of Torcaster,
+      but that her grace had had the refusal of them, and had actually
+      criticised them, in consequence of Sir Horace Grant, the great traveller&rsquo;s
+      objecting to some of the proportions of the pillars&mdash;Soho had engaged
+      to make a new set, vastly improved, by Sir Horace&rsquo;s suggestions, for her
+      Grace of Torcaster.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Lady Chatterton was the greatest talker extant; and she went about the
+      rooms telling every body of her acquaintance&mdash;and she was acquainted
+      with every body&mdash;how shamefully Soho had imposed upon poor Lady
+      Clonbrony, protesting she could not forgive the man. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; said she,
+      &ldquo;though the Duchess of Torcaster had been his constant customer for ages,
+      and his patroness, and all that, yet this does not excuse him&mdash;and
+      Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s being a stranger, and from Ireland, makes the thing
+      worse.&rdquo; From Ireland!&mdash;that was the unkindest cut of all&mdash;but
+      there was no remedy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In vain poor Lady Clonbrony followed the dowager about the rooms to
+      correct this mistake, and to represent, in justice to Mr. Soho, though he
+      had used her so ill, that he knew she was an Englishwoman. The dowager was
+      deaf, and no whisper could reach her ear. And when Lady Clonbrony was
+      obliged to bawl an explanation in her ear, the dowager only repeated, &ldquo;In
+      justice to Mr. Soho!&mdash;No, no; he has not done you justice, my dear
+      Lady Clonbrony! and I&rsquo;ll expose him to every body. Englishwoman!&mdash;no,
+      no, no!&mdash;Soho could not take you for an Englishwoman!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All who secretly envied or ridiculed Lady Clonbrony enjoyed this scene.
+      The Alhambra hangings, which had been in one short hour before the
+      admiration of the world, were now regarded by every eye with contempt, as
+      <i>cast</i> hangings, and every tongue was busy declaiming against Mr.
+      Soho; every body declared, that from the first, the want of proportion
+      &ldquo;struck them, but that they would not mention it till others found it
+      out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      People usually revenge themselves for having admired too much, by
+      afterwards despising and depreciating without mercy&mdash;in all great
+      assemblies the perception of ridicule is quickly caught, and quickly too
+      revealed. Lady Clonbrony, even in her own house, on her gala night, became
+      an object of ridicule,&mdash;decently masked, indeed, under the appearance
+      of condolence with her ladyship, and of indignation against &ldquo;that
+      abominable Mr. Soho!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Langdale, who was now, for reasons of her own, upon her good
+      behaviour, did penance, as she said, for her former imprudence, by
+      abstaining even from whispered sarcasms. She looked on with penitential
+      gravity, said nothing herself, and endeavoured to keep Mrs. Dareville in
+      order; but that was no easy task. Mrs. Dareville had no daughters, had
+      nothing to gain from the acquaintance of my Lady Clonbrony; and conscious
+      that her ladyship would bear a vast deal from her presence, rather than
+      forego the honour of her sanction, Mrs. Dareville, without any motives of
+      interest, or good-nature of sufficient power to restrain her talent and
+      habit of ridicule, free from hope or fear, gave full scope to all the
+      malice of mockery, and all the insolence of fashion. Her slings and
+      arrows, numerous as they were and outrageous, were directed against such
+      petty objects, and the mischief was so quick in its aim and its operation,
+      that, felt but not seen, it is scarcely possible to register the hits, or
+      to describe the nature of the wounds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some hits, sufficiently palpable, however, are recorded for the advantage
+      of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony led her to look at the Chinese pagoda,
+      the lady paused, with her foot on the threshold, as if afraid to enter
+      this porcelain Elysium, as she called it&mdash;Fool&rsquo;s Paradise, she would
+      have said; and, by her hesitation, and by the half pronounced word,
+      suggested the idea,&mdash;&ldquo;None but belles without petticoats can enter
+      here,&rdquo; said she, drawing her clothes tight round her; &ldquo;fortunately, I have
+      but two, and Lady Langdale has but one.&rdquo; Prevailed upon to venture in, she
+      walked on with prodigious care and trepidation, affecting to be alarmed at
+      the crowd of strange forms and monsters by which she was surrounded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature!&mdash;Well, now I
+      may boast I&rsquo;ve been in a real Chinese pagoda!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, every thing is appropriate here, I flatter my self,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in defiance of bulls and
+      blunders, to allow us a comfortable English fire-place and plenty of
+      Newcastle coal in China!&mdash;And a white marble&mdash;no! white velvet
+      hearthrug painted with beautiful flowers&mdash;Oh! the delicate, the <i>useful</i>
+      thing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Vexed by the emphasis on the word <i>useful</i>, Lady Clonbrony
+      endeavoured to turn off the attention of the company. &ldquo;Lady Langdale, your
+      ladyship&rsquo;s a judge of china&mdash;this vase is an unique, I am told.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am told,&rdquo; interrupted Mrs. Dareville, &ldquo;this is the very vase in which B&mdash;&mdash;,
+      the nabob&rsquo;s father, who was, you know, a China captain, smuggled his dear
+      little Chinese wife and all her fortune out of Canton&mdash;positively,
+      actually put the lid on, packed her up, and sent her off on shipboard!&mdash;True!
+      true! upon my veracity! I&rsquo;ll tell you my authority!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With this story, Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from the jar, to Lady
+      Clonbrony&rsquo;s infinite mortification.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range of china jars.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ali Baba and the forty thieves!&rdquo; exclaimed Mrs. Dareville: &ldquo;I hope you
+      have boiling oil ready!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that Mrs. Dareville was
+      uncommon pleasant to-night&mdash;&ldquo;But now,&rdquo; said her ladyship, &ldquo;let me
+      take you to the Turkish tent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of the pagoda and
+      into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony began to breathe move freely; for
+      here she thought she was upon safe ground:&mdash;&ldquo;Every thing, I flatter
+      myself,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;is correct, and appropriate, and quite picturesque&rdquo;&mdash;The
+      company, dispersed in happy groups, or reposing on seraglio ottomans,
+      drinking lemonade and sherbet&mdash;beautiful Fatimas admiring, or being
+      admired&mdash;&ldquo;Every thing here quite correct, appropriate, and
+      picturesque,&rdquo; repeated Mrs. Dareville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This lady&rsquo;s powers as a mimic were extraordinary, and she found them
+      irresistible. Hitherto she had imitated Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s air and accent
+      only behind her back; but, bolder grown, she now ventured, in spite of
+      Lady Langdale&rsquo;s warning pinches, to mimic her kind hostess before her
+      face, and to her face. Now, whenever Lady Clonbrony saw any thing that
+      struck her fancy in the dress of her fashionable friends, she had a way of
+      hanging her head aside, and saying, with a peculiarly sentimental drawl,
+      &ldquo;How pretty!&mdash;How elegant!&mdash;Now that quite suits my <i>teeste</i>.&rdquo;
+       this phrase, precisely in the same accent, and with the head set to the
+      same angle of affectation, Mrs. Dareville had the assurance to address to
+      her ladyship, apropos to something which she pretended to admire in Lady
+      Clonbrony&rsquo;s <i>costume</i>&mdash;a costume, which, excessively fashionable
+      in each of its parts, was, altogether, so extraordinarily unbecoming, as
+      to be fit for a print-shop. The perception of this, added to the effect of
+      Mrs. Dareville&rsquo;s mimicry, was almost too much for Lady Langdale; she could
+      not possibly have stood it, but for the appearance of Miss Nugent at this
+      instant behind Lady Clonbrony. Grace gave one glance of indignation, which
+      seemed suddenly to strike Mrs. Dareville. Silence for a moment ensued, and
+      afterwards the tone of the conversation was changed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Salisbury!&mdash;explain this to me,&rdquo; said a lady, drawing Mr. Salisbury
+      aside. &ldquo;If you are in the secret, do explain this to me; for unless I had
+      seen it, I could not have believed it. Nay, though I have seen it, I do
+      not believe it. How was that daring spirit laid? By what spell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the spell which superior minds always cast on inferior spirits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very fine,&rdquo; said the lady, laughing, &ldquo;but as old as the days of Leonora
+      de Galigai, quoted a million times. Now tell me something new and to the
+      purpose, and better suited to modern days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, since you will not allow me to talk of superior minds in the
+      present day, let me ask you if you have never observed that a wit, once
+      conquered in company by a wit of higher order, is thenceforward in
+      complete subjection to the conqueror; whenever and wherever they meet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would not persuade me that yonder gentle-looking girl could ever be a
+      match for the veteran Mrs. Dareville? She may have the wit, but has she
+      the courage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; no one has more courage, more civil courage, where her own dignity,
+      or the interests of her friends are concerned&mdash;I will tell you an
+      instance or two to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow!&mdash;To-night!&mdash;tell it me now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a safe place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The safest in the world, in such a crowd as this&mdash;Follow my example.
+      Take a glass of orgeat&mdash;sip from time to time, thus&mdash;speak low,
+      looking innocent all the while straight forward, or now and then up at the
+      lamps&mdash;keep on in an even tone&mdash;use no names&mdash;and you may
+      tell any thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, when Miss Nugent first came to London, Mrs. Dareville&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two names already&mdash;did not I warn ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how can I make myself intelligible?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Initials&mdash;can&rsquo;t you use&mdash;or genealogy?&mdash;What stops you?&mdash;It
+      is only Lord Colambre, a very safe person, I have a notion, when the
+      eulogium is of Miss Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, who had now performed his arduous duties as a dancer, and
+      had disembarrassed himself of all his partners, came into the Turkish tent
+      just at this moment to refresh himself, and just in time to hear Mr.
+      Salisbury&rsquo;s anecdotes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now go on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Dareville, you remember, some years ago, went to Ireland, with some
+      lady lieutenant, to whom she was related&mdash;there she was most
+      hospitably received by Lord and Lady Clonbrony&mdash;went to their country
+      house&mdash;was as intimate with Lady Clonbrony and with Miss Nugent as
+      possible&mdash;stayed at Clonbrony Castle for a month; and yet, when Lady
+      Clonbrony came to London, never took the least notice of her. At last,
+      meeting at the house of a common friend, Mrs. Dareville could not avoid
+      recognizing her ladyship; but, even then, did it in the least civil manner
+      and most cursory style possible&mdash;&lsquo;Ho! Lady Clonbrony!&mdash;didn&rsquo;t
+      know you were in England!&mdash;When did you come?&mdash;How long shall
+      you stay in town?&mdash;Hope, before you leave England, your ladyship and
+      Miss Nugent will give us a day?&rsquo;&mdash;<i>A day!</i>&mdash;Lady Clonbrony
+      was so astonished by this impudence of ingratitude, that she hesitated how
+      to <i>take it</i>; but Miss Nugent, quite coolly, and with a smile,
+      answered, &lsquo;A day!&mdash;Certainly&mdash;to you, who gave us a month!&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Admirable!&mdash;Now I comprehend perfectly why Mrs. Dareville declines
+      insulting Miss Nugent&rsquo;s friends in her presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre said nothing, but thought much. &ldquo;How I wish my mother,&rdquo;
+       thought he, &ldquo;had some of Grace Nugent&rsquo;s proper pride! She would not then
+      waste her fortune, spirits, health, and life, in courting such people as
+      these.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had not seen&mdash;he could not have borne to have beheld&mdash;the
+      manner in which his mother had been treated by some of her guests; but he
+      observed that she now looked harassed and vexed; and he was provoked and
+      mortified, by hearing her begging and beseeching some of the saucy leaders
+      of the ton to oblige her, to do her the favour, to do her the honour, to
+      stay to supper. It was just ready&mdash;actually announced. &ldquo;No, they
+      would not, they could not; they were obliged to run away: engaged to the
+      Duchess of Torcaster.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Colambre, what is the matter?&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, going up to him, as
+      he stood aloof and indignant: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look so like a chafed lion; others
+      may perhaps read your countenance, as well as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None can read my mind so well,&rdquo; replied he. &ldquo;Oh, my dear Grace!&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supper!&mdash;Supper!&rdquo; cried she: &ldquo;your duty to your neighbour, your hand
+      to your partner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The supper room, fitted up at great expense, with scenery to imitate
+      Vauxhall, opened into a superb greenhouse, lighted with coloured lamps, a
+      band of music at a distance&mdash;every delicacy, every luxury that could
+      gratify the senses, appeared in profusion. The company ate and drank&mdash;enjoyed
+      themselves&mdash;went away&mdash;and laughed at their hostess. Some,
+      indeed, who thought they had been neglected, were in too bad humour to
+      laugh, but abused her in sober earnest; for Lady Clonbrony had offended
+      half, nay, three quarters of her guests, by what they termed her exclusive
+      attention to those very leaders of the ton, from whom she had suffered so
+      much, and who had made it obvious to all that they thought they did her
+      too much honour in appearing at her gala. So ended the gala for which she
+      had lavished such sums; for which she had laboured so indefatigably; and
+      from which she had expected such triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre, bid the musicians stop&mdash;they are playing to empty
+      benches,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;Grace, my dear, will you see that these
+      lamps are safely put out? I am so tired, so <i>worn out</i>, I must go to
+      bed; and I am sure I have caught cold, too. What a <i>nervous business</i>
+      it is to manage these things! I wonder how one gets through it, or <i>why</i>
+      one does it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony was taken ill the day after her gala; she had caught cold
+      by standing, when much overheated, in a violent draught of wind, paying
+      her parting compliments to the Duke of V&mdash;&mdash;, who thought her a
+      <i>bore</i>, and wished her in heaven all the time for keeping his horses
+      standing. Her ladyship&rsquo;s illness was severe and long; she was confined to
+      her room for some weeks by a rheumatic fever, and an inflammation in her
+      eyes. Every day, when Lord Colambre went to see his mother, he found Miss
+      Nugent in her apartment, and every hour he found fresh reason to admire
+      this charming girl. The affectionate tenderness, the indefatigable
+      patience, the strong attachment she showed for her aunt, actually raised
+      Lady Clonbrony in her son&rsquo;s opinion. He was persuaded she must surely have
+      some good or great qualities, or she could not have excited such strong
+      affection. A few foibles out of the question, such as her love of fine
+      people, her affectation of being English, and other affectations too
+      tedious to mention, Lady Clonbrony was really a good woman, had good
+      principles, moral and religious, and, selfishness not immediately
+      interfering, she was good-natured; and, though her whole soul and
+      attention were so completely absorbed in the duties of acquaintanceship
+      that she did not know it, she really had affections&mdash;they were
+      concentrated upon a few near relations. She was extremely fond and
+      extremely proud of her son. Next to her son, she was fonder of her niece
+      than of any other creature. She had received Grace Nugent into her family
+      when she was left an orphan, and deserted by some of her other relations.
+      She had bred her up, and had treated her with constant kindness. This
+      kindness and these obligations had raised the warmest gratitude in Miss
+      Nugent&rsquo;s heart; and it was the strong principle of gratitude which
+      rendered her capable of endurance and exertions seemingly far above her
+      strength. This young lady was not of a robust appearance, though she now
+      underwent extraordinary fatigue. Her aunt could scarcely bear that she
+      should leave her for a moment: she could not close her eyes, unless Grace
+      sat up with her many hours every night. Night after night she bore this
+      fatigue; and yet, with little sleep or rest, she preserved her health, at
+      least, supported her spirits; and every morning when Lord Colambre came
+      into his mother&rsquo;s room, he saw Miss Nugent look as blooming as if she had
+      enjoyed the most refreshing sleep. The bloom was, as he observed, not
+      permanent; it came and went with every emotion of her feeling heart; and
+      he soon learned to fancy her almost as handsome when she was pale as when
+      she had a colour. He had thought her beautiful when he beheld her in all
+      the radiance of light, and with all the advantages of dress at the gala,
+      but he found her infinitely more lovely and interesting now, when he saw
+      her in a sick-room&mdash;a half-darkened chamber&mdash;where often he
+      could but just discern her form, or distinguish her, except by her
+      graceful motion as she passed, or when, but for a moment, a window-curtain
+      drawn aside let the sun shine upon her face, or on the ringlets of her
+      hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Much must be allowed for an inflammation in the eyes, and something for a
+      rheumatic fever; yet it may seem strange that Lady Clonbrony should be so
+      blind and deaf as neither to see nor hear all this time; that having lived
+      so long in the world, it should never occur to her that it was rather
+      imprudent to have a young lady, not eighteen, nursing her&mdash;and such a
+      young lady!&mdash;when her son, not one-and-twenty&mdash;and such a son!&mdash;came
+      to visit her daily. But, so it was, Lady Clonbrony knew nothing of love&mdash;she
+      had read of it, indeed, in novels, which sometimes for fashion&rsquo;s sake she
+      had looked at, and over which she had been obliged to dose; but this was
+      only love in books&mdash;love in real life she had never met with&mdash;in
+      the life she led, how should she? She had heard of its making young
+      people, and old people even, do foolish things; but those were foolish
+      people; and if they were worse than foolish, why it was shocking, and
+      nobody visited them. But Lady Clonbrony had not, for her own part, the
+      slightest notion how people could be brought to this pass, nor how any
+      body out of Bedlam could prefer, to a good house, a decent equipage, and a
+      proper establishment, what is called love in a cottage. As to Colambre,
+      she had too good an opinion of his understanding&mdash;to say nothing of
+      his duty to his family, his pride, his rank, and his being her son&mdash;to
+      let such an idea cross her imagination. As to her niece; in the first
+      place, she was her niece, and first cousins should never marry, because
+      they form no new connexions to strengthen the family interest, or raise
+      its consequence. This doctrine her ladyship had repeated for years so
+      often and so dogmatically, that she conceived it to be incontrovertible,
+      and of as full force as any law of the land, or as any moral or religious
+      obligation. She would as soon have suspected her niece of an intention of
+      stealing her diamond necklace as of purloining Colambre&rsquo;s heart, or
+      marrying this heir of the house of Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent was so well apprized, and so thoroughly convinced of all this,
+      that she never for one moment allowed herself to think of Lord Colambre as
+      a lover. Duty, honour, and gratitude&mdash;gratitude, the strong feeling
+      and principle of her mind&mdash;forbade it; she had so prepared and
+      accustomed herself to consider him as a person with whom she could not
+      possibly be united, that, with perfect ease and simplicity, she behaved
+      towards him exactly as if he were her brother&mdash;not in the
+      equivocating sentimental romance style in which ladies talk of treating
+      men as their brothers, whom they are all the time secretly thinking of and
+      endeavouring to please as lovers&mdash;not using this phrase, as a
+      convenient pretence, a safe mode of securing herself from suspicion or
+      scandal, and of enjoying the advantages of confidence and the intimacy of
+      friendship, till the propitious moment, when it should be time to declare
+      or avow <i>the secret of the heart</i>. No: this young lady was quite
+      above all double dealing; she had no mental reservation&mdash;no
+      metaphysical subtleties&mdash;but, with plain, unsophisticated morality,
+      in good faith and simple truth, acted as she professed, thought what she
+      said, and was that which she seemed to be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as Lady Clonbrony was able to see any body, her niece sent to Mrs.
+      Broadhurst, who was very intimate with the family; she used to come
+      frequently, almost every evening, to sit with the invalid. Miss Broadhurst
+      accompanied her mother, for she did not like to go out with any other
+      chaperon&mdash;it was disagreeable to spend her time alone at home, and
+      most agreeable to spend it with her friend Miss Nugent. In this she had no
+      design; Miss Broadhurst had too lofty and independent a spirit to stoop to
+      coquetry: she thought that, in their interview at the gala, she understood
+      Lord Colambre, and that he understood her&mdash;that he was not inclined
+      to court her for her fortune&mdash;that she would not be content with any
+      suitor who was not a lover. She was two or three years older than Lord
+      Colambre, perfectly aware of her want of beauty, yet with a just sense of
+      her own merit, and of what was becoming and due to the dignity of her sex.
+      This, she trusted, was visible in her manners, and established in Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s mind; so that she ran no risk of being misunderstood by him;
+      and as to what the rest of the world thought, she was so well used to hear
+      weekly and daily reports of her going to be married to fifty different
+      people, that she cared little for what was said on this subject. Indeed,
+      conscious of rectitude, and with an utter contempt for mean and
+      commonplace gossiping, she was, for a woman, and a young woman, rather too
+      disdainful of the opinion of the world. Mrs. Broadhurst, though her
+      daughter had fully explained herself respecting Lord Colambre, before she
+      began this course of visiting, yet rejoiced that even on this footing
+      there should be constant intercourse between them. It was Mrs.
+      Broadhurst&rsquo;s warmest wish that her daughter should obtain rank, and
+      connect herself with an ancient family; she was sensible that the young
+      lady&rsquo;s being older than the gentleman might be an obstacle; and very sorry
+      she was to find that her daughter had so imprudently, so unnecessarily,
+      declared her age: but still this little obstacle might be overcome, much
+      greater difficulties in the marriage of inferior heiresses being every day
+      got over, and thought nothing of. Then, as to the young lady&rsquo;s own
+      sentiments, her mother knew them better than she did herself: she
+      understood her daughter&rsquo;s pride, that she dreaded to be made an object of
+      bargain and sale; but Mrs. Broadhurst, who, with all her coarseness of
+      mind, had rather a better notion of love matters than Lady Clonbrony,
+      perceived, through her daughter&rsquo;s horror of being offered to Lord
+      Colambre, through her anxiety that nothing approaching to an advance on
+      the part of her family should be made, that if Lord Colambre should
+      himself advance, he would stand a better chance of being accepted than any
+      other of the numerous persons who had yet aspired to the favour of this
+      heiress. The very circumstance of his having paid no court to her at first
+      operated in his favour; for it proved that he was not mercenary, and that,
+      whatever attention he might afterwards show, she must be sure would be
+      sincere and disinterested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, let them but see one another in this easy, intimate, kind of
+      way; and you will find, my dear Lady Clonbrony, things will go on of their
+      own accord, all the better for our&mdash;minding our cards&mdash;and never
+      minding any thing else. I remember, when I was young&mdash;but let that
+      pass&mdash;let the young people see one another, and manage their own
+      affairs their own way&mdash;let them be together&mdash;that&rsquo;s all I say.
+      Ask half the men you are acquainted with why they married, and their
+      answer, if they speak truth, will be&mdash;&lsquo;because I met Miss Such-a-one
+      at such a place, and we were continually together.&rsquo; Propinquity!&mdash;Propinquity!&mdash;as
+      my father used to say&mdash;And he was married five times, and twice to
+      heiresses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In consequence of this plan of leaving things to themselves, every evening
+      Lady Clonbrony made out her own little card-table with Mrs. Broadhurst,
+      and a Mr. and Miss Pratt, a brother and sister, who were the most
+      obliging, convenient neighbours imaginable. From time to time, as Lady
+      Clonbrony gathered up her cards, she would direct an inquiring glance to
+      the group of young people at the other table; whilst the more prudent Mrs.
+      Broadhurst sat plump with her back to them, pursing up her lips, and
+      contracting her brows in token of deep calculation, looking down
+      impenetrable at her cards, never even noticing Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s glances,
+      but inquiring from her partner, &ldquo;How many they were by honours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young party generally consisted of Miss Broadhurst, Lord Colambre,
+      Miss Nugent, and her admirer, Mr. Salisbury. Mr. Salisbury was a
+      middle-aged gentleman, very agreeable, and well informed; he had
+      travelled; had seen a great deal of the world; had lived in the best
+      company; had acquired what is called good <i>tact</i>; was full of
+      anecdote, not mere gossiping anecdotes that lead to nothing, but
+      characteristic of national manners, of human nature in general, or of
+      those illustrious individuals who excite public curiosity and interest.
+      Miss Nugent had seen him always in large companies, where he was admired
+      for his sçavoir-vivre, and for his entertaining anecdotes, but where he
+      had no opportunity of producing any of the higher powers of his
+      understanding, or showing character. She found that Mr. Salisbury appeared
+      to her quite a different person when conversing with Lord Colambre. Lord
+      Colambre, with that ardent thirst for knowledge which it is always
+      agreeable to gratify, had an air of openness and generosity, a frankness,
+      a warmth of manner, which, with good breeding, but with something beyond
+      it and superior to its established forms, irresistibly won the confidence
+      and attracted the affection of those with whom he conversed. His manners
+      were peculiarly agreeable to a person like Mr. Salisbury, tired of the
+      sameness and egotism of men of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent had seldom till now had the advantage of hearing much
+      conversation on literary subjects. In the life she had been compelled to
+      lead she had acquired accomplishments, had exercised her understanding
+      upon every thing that passed before her, and from circumstances had formed
+      her judgment and her taste by observations on real life; but the ample
+      page of knowledge had never been unrolled to her eyes. She had never had
+      opportunities of acquiring a taste for literature herself, but she admired
+      it in others, particularly in her friend Miss Broadhurst. Miss Broadhurst
+      had received all the advantages of education which money could procure,
+      and had benefited by them in a manner uncommon among those for whom they
+      are purchased in such abundance: she not only had had many masters, and
+      read many books, but had thought of what she read, and had supplied, by
+      the strength and energy of her own mind, what cannot be acquired by the
+      assistance of masters. Miss Nugent, perhaps overvaluing the information
+      that she did not possess, and free from all idea of envy, looked up to her
+      friend as to a superior being, with a sort of enthusiastic admiration; and
+      now, with &ldquo;charmed attention,&rdquo; listened, by turns, to her, to Mr.
+      Salisbury, and to Lord Colambre, whilst they conversed on literary
+      subjects&mdash;listened, with a countenance so full of intelligence, of
+      animation, so expressive of every good and kind affection, that the
+      gentlemen did not always know what they were saying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray go on,&rdquo; said she, once, to Mr. Salisbury: &ldquo;you stop, perhaps, from
+      politeness to me&mdash;from compassion to my ignorance; but though I am
+      ignorant, you do not tire me, I assure you. Did you ever condescend to
+      read the Arabian Tales? Like him whose eyes were touched by the magical
+      application from the dervise, I am enabled at once to see the riches of a
+      new world&mdash;Oh! how unlike, how superior to that in which I have lived&mdash;the
+      GREAT world, as it is called!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre brought down a beautiful edition of the Arabian Tales,
+      looked for the story to which Miss Nugent had alluded, and showed it to
+      Miss Broadhurst, who was also searching for it in another volume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony, from her card-table, saw the young people thus engaged&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I profess not to understand these things so well as you say you do, my
+      dear Mrs. Broadhurst,&rdquo; whispered she; &ldquo;but look there now; they are at
+      their books! What do you expect can come of that sort of thing? So ill
+      bred, and downright rude of Colambre, I must give him a hint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, for mercy&rsquo;s sake! my dear Lady Clonbrony, no hints, no hints, no
+      remarks! What would you have?&mdash;she reading, and my lord at the back
+      of her chair leaning over&mdash;and allowed, mind, to lean over to read
+      the same thing. Can&rsquo;t be better!&mdash;Never saw any man yet allowed to
+      come so near her!&mdash;Now, Lady Clonbrony, not a word, not a look, I
+      beseech.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well!&mdash;but if they had a little music.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My daughter&rsquo;s tired of music. How much do I owe your ladyship now?&mdash;three
+      rubbers, I think. Now, though you would not believe it of a young girl,&rdquo;
+       continued Mrs. Broadhurst, &ldquo;I can assure your ladyship, my daughter would
+      often rather go to a book than a ball.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, now, that&rsquo;s very extraordinary, in the style in which she has been
+      brought up; yet books and all that are so fashionable now, that it&rsquo;s very
+      natural,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      About this time, Mr. Berryl, Lord Colambre&rsquo;s Cambridge friend, for whom
+      his lordship had fought the battle of the curricle with Mordicai, came to
+      town. Lord Colambre introduced him to his mother, by whom he was
+      graciously received; for Mr. Berryl was a young gentleman of good figure,
+      good address, good family, heir to a good fortune, and in every respect a
+      fit match for Miss Nugent. Lady Clonbrony thought that it would be wise to
+      secure him for her niece before he should make his appearance in the
+      London world, where mothers and daughters would soon make him feel his own
+      consequence. Mr. Berryl, as Lord Colambre&rsquo;s intimate friend, was admitted
+      to the private evening parties at Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s; and he contributed to
+      render them still more agreeable. His information, his habits of thinking,
+      and his views, were all totally different from Mr. Salisbury&rsquo;s; and their
+      collision continually struck out that sparkling novelty which pleases
+      peculiarly in conversation. Mr. Berryl&rsquo;s education, disposition, and
+      tastes, fitted him exactly for the station which he was destined to fill
+      in society&mdash;that of <i>a country gentleman</i>; not meaning by that
+      expression a mere eating, drinking, hunting, shooting, ignorant, country
+      squire of the old race, which is now nearly extinct; but a cultivated,
+      enlightened, independent English country gentleman&mdash;the happiest,
+      perhaps, of human beings. On the comparative felicity of the town and
+      country life; on the dignity, utility, elegance, and interesting nature of
+      their different occupations, and general scheme of passing their time, Mr.
+      Berryl and Mr. Salisbury had one evening a playful, entertaining, and,
+      perhaps, instructive conversation; each party, at the end, remaining, as
+      frequently happens, of their own opinion. It was observed, that Miss
+      Broadhurst ably and warmly defended Mr. Berryl&rsquo;s side of the question; and
+      in their views, plans, and estimates of life, there appeared a remarkable
+      and, as Lord Colambre thought, a happy coincidence. When she was at last
+      called upon to give her decisive judgment between a town and a country
+      life, she declared that if she were condemned to the extremes of either,
+      she should prefer a country life, as much as she should prefer Robinson
+      Crusoe&rsquo;s diary to the journal of the idle man in the Spectator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord bless me!&mdash;Mrs. Broadhurst, do you hear what your daughter is
+      saying?&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony, who, from the card-table, lent an attentive
+      ear to all that was going forward. &ldquo;Is it possible that Miss Broadhurst,
+      with her fortune, and pretensions, and sense, can really be serious in
+      saying she would be content to live in the country?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that you say, child, about living in the country?&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Broadhurst repeated what she had said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Girls always think so who have lived in town,&rdquo; said Mrs. Broadhurst:
+      &ldquo;they are always dreaming of sheep and sheep-hooks; but the first winter
+      in the country cures them: a shepherdess in winter is a sad and sorry sort
+      of personage, except at a masquerade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;I am sure Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s sentiments
+      about town life, and all that, must delight you&mdash;For do you know,
+      ma&rsquo;am, he is always trying to persuade me to give up living in town?
+      Colambre and Miss Broadhurst perfectly agree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mind your cards, my dear Lady Clonbrony,&rdquo; interrupted Mrs. Broadhurst,
+      &ldquo;in pity to your partner. Mr. Pratt has certainly the patience of Job&mdash;your
+      ladyship has revoked twice this hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony begged a thousand pardons, fixed her eyes, and endeavoured
+      to fix her mind on the cards; but there was something said at the other
+      end of the room, about an estate in Cambridgeshire, which soon distracted
+      her attention again. Mr. Pratt certainly had the patience of Job. She
+      revoked again, and lost the game, though they had four by honours.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as she rose from the card-table, and could speak to Mrs.
+      Broadhurst apart, she communicated her apprehensions. &ldquo;Seriously, my dear
+      madam,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I believe I have done very wrong to admit Mr. Berryl
+      just now, though it was on Grace&rsquo;s account I did it. But, ma&rsquo;am, I did not
+      know Miss Broadhurst had an estate in Cambridgeshire; their two estates
+      just close to one another, I heard them say&mdash;Lord bless me, ma&rsquo;am!
+      there&rsquo;s the danger of propinquity indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No danger, no danger,&rdquo; persisted Mrs. Broadhurst. &ldquo;I know my girl better
+      than you do, begging your ladyship&rsquo;s pardon. No one thinks less of estates
+      than she does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I only know I heard her talking of them, and earnestly too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, very likely; but don&rsquo;t you know that girls never think of what they
+      are talking about, or rather never talk of what they are thinking about?
+      And they have always ten times more to say to the man they don&rsquo;t care for
+      than to him they do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very extraordinary!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony: &ldquo;I only hope you are right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it,&rdquo; said Mrs. Broadhurst. &ldquo;Only let things go on, and mind
+      your cards, I beseech you, to-morrow night better than you did to-night;
+      and you will see that things will turn out just as I prophesied. Lord
+      Colambre will come to a point-blank proposal before the end of the week,
+      and will be accepted, or my name&rsquo;s not Broadhurst. Why, in plain English,
+      I am clear my girl likes him; and when that&rsquo;s the case, you know, can you
+      doubt how the thing will end?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Broadhurst was perfectly right in every point of her reasoning but
+      one. From long habit of seeing and considering that such an heiress as her
+      daughter might marry whom she pleased,&mdash;from constantly seeing that
+      she was the person to decide and to reject,&mdash;Mrs. Broadhurst had
+      literally taken it for granted that every thing was to depend upon her
+      daughter&rsquo;s inclinations: she was not mistaken, in the present case, in
+      opining that the young lady would not be averse to Lord Colambre, if he
+      came to what she called a point-blank proposal. It really never occurred
+      to Mrs. Broadhurst, that any man whom her daughter was the least inclined
+      to favour, could think of any body else. Quick-sighted in these affairs as
+      the matron thought herself, she saw but one side of the question: blind
+      and dull of comprehension as she thought Lady Clonbrony on this subject,
+      Mrs. Broadhurst was herself so completely blinded by her own prejudices,
+      as to be incapable of discerning the plain thing that was before her eyes;
+      <i>videlicet</i>, that Lord Colambre preferred Grace Nugent. Lord Colambre
+      made no proposal before the end of the week; but this Mrs. Broadhurst
+      attributed to an unexpected occurrence, which prevented things from going
+      on in the train in which they had been proceeding so smoothly. Sir John
+      Berryl, Mr. Berryl&rsquo;s father, was suddenly seized with a dangerous illness.
+      The news was brought to Mr. Berryl one evening whilst he was at Lady
+      Clonbrony&rsquo;s. The circumstances of domestic distress which afterwards
+      occurred in the family of his friend, entirely occupied Lord Colambre&rsquo;s
+      time and attention. All thoughts of love were suspended, and his whole
+      mind was given up to the active services of friendship. The sudden illness
+      of Sir John Berryl spread an alarm among his creditors, which brought to
+      light at once the disorder of his affairs, of which his son had no
+      knowledge or suspicion. Lady Berryl had been a very expensive woman,
+      especially in equipages; and Mordicai, the coachmaker, appeared at this
+      time the foremost and the most inexorable of their creditors. Conscious
+      that the charges in his account were exorbitant, and that they would not
+      be allowed if examined by a court of justice; that it was a debt which
+      only ignorance and extravagance could have in the first instance incurred,
+      swelled afterwards to an amazing amount by interest, and interest upon
+      interest; Mordicai was impatient to obtain payment, whilst Sir John yet
+      lived, or at least to obtain legal security for the whole sum from the
+      heir. Mr. Berryl offered his bond for the amount of the reasonable charges
+      in his account; but this Mordicai absolutely refused, declaring that now
+      he had the power in his own hands, he would use it to obtain the utmost
+      penny of his debt; that he would not let the thing slip through his
+      fingers; that a debtor never yet escaped him, and never should; that a
+      man&rsquo;s lying upon his deathbed was no excuse to a creditor; that he was not
+      a whiffler to stand upon ceremony about disturbing a gentleman in his last
+      moments; that he was not to be cheated out of his due by such niceties;
+      that he was prepared to go all lengths the law would allow; for that, as
+      to what people said of him, he did not care a doit&mdash;&ldquo;Cover your face
+      with your hands, if you like it, Mr. Berryl; you may be ashamed for me,
+      but I feel no shame for myself&mdash;I am not so weak.&rdquo; Mordicai&rsquo;s
+      countenance said more than his words; livid with malice, and with
+      atrocious determination in his eyes, he stood. &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you
+      may look at me as you please&mdash;it is possible&mdash;I am in earnest.
+      Consult what you&rsquo;ll do now behind my back, or before my face, it comes to
+      the same thing; for nothing will do but my money or your bond, Mr. Berryl.
+      The arrest is made on the person of your father, luckily made while the
+      breath is still in the body&mdash;Yes&mdash;start forward to strike me, if
+      you dare&mdash;Your father, Sir John Berryl, sick or well, is my
+      prisoner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Berryl and Mr. Berryl&rsquo;s sisters, in an agony of grief, rushed into
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all useless,&rdquo; cried Mordicai, turning his back upon the ladies:
+      &ldquo;these tricks upon creditors won&rsquo;t do with me; I&rsquo;m used to these scenes;
+      I&rsquo;m not made of such stuff as you think. Leave a gentleman in peace in his
+      last moments&mdash;No! he ought not, nor sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t die in peace, if he don&rsquo;t
+      pay his debts; and if you are all so mighty sorry, ladies, there&rsquo;s the
+      gentleman you may kneel to: if tenderness is the order of the day, it&rsquo;s
+      for the son to show it, not me. Ay, now, Mr. Berryl,&rdquo; cried he, as Mr.
+      Berryl took up the bond to sign it, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re beginning to know I&rsquo;m not a
+      fool to be trifled with. Stop your hand, if you choose it, sir,&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+      all the same to me: the person, or the money, I&rsquo;ll carry with me out of this
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Berryl signed the bond, and threw it to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, monster!&mdash;quit the house!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Monster</i> is not actionable&mdash;I wish you had called me <i>knave</i>,&rdquo;
+       said Mordicai, grinning a horrible smile; and taking up the bond
+      deliberately, returned it to Mr. Berryl: &ldquo;This paper is worth nothing to
+      me, sir&mdash;it is not witnessed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Berryl hastily left the room, and returned with Lord Colambre.
+      Mordicai changed countenance and grew pale, for a moment, at sight of Lord
+      Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my lord, since it so happens, I am not sorry that you should be
+      witness to this paper,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;and indeed not sorry that you should
+      witness the whole proceedings; for I trust I shall be able to explain to
+      you my conduct.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not come here, sir,&rdquo; interrupted Lord Colambre, &ldquo;to listen to any
+      explanations of your conduct, which I perfectly understand;&mdash;I come
+      to witness a bond for my friend Mr. Berryl, if you think proper to extort
+      from him such a bond.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I extort nothing, my lord. Mr. Berryl, it is quite a voluntary act, take
+      notice, on your part; sign or not, witness or not, as you please,
+      gentlemen,&rdquo; said Mordicai, sticking his hands in his pockets, and
+      recovering his look of black and fixed determination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Witness it, witness it, my dear lord,&rdquo; said Mr. Berryl, looking at his
+      mother and weeping sisters; &ldquo;witness it, quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Berryl must just run over his name again in your presence, my lord,
+      with a dry pen,&rdquo; said Mordicai, putting the pen into Mr. Berryl&rsquo;s hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;my friend shall never sign it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you please, my lord&mdash;the bond or the body, before I quit this
+      house,&rdquo; said Mordicai.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither, sir, shall you have: and you quit this house directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How! how!&mdash;my lord, how&rsquo;s this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, the arrest you have made is as illegal as it is inhuman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Illegal, my lord!&rdquo; said Mordicai, startled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Illegal, sir. I came into this house at the moment when your bailiff
+      asked and was refused admittance. Afterwards, in the confusion of the
+      family above stairs, he forced open the house-door with an iron bar&mdash;I
+      saw him&mdash;I am ready to give evidence of the fact. Now proceed at your
+      peril.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mordicai, without reply, snatched up his hat, and walked towards the door;
+      but Lord Colambre held the door open&mdash;it was immediately at the head
+      of the stairs&mdash;and Mordicai, seeing his indignant look and proud
+      form, hesitated to pass; for he had always heard that Irishmen are &ldquo;quick
+      in the executive part of justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pass on, sir,&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre, with an air of ineffable contempt:
+      &ldquo;I am a gentleman&mdash;you have nothing to fear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mordicai ran down stairs; Lord Colambre, before he went back into the
+      room, waited to see him and his bailiff out of the house. When Mordicai
+      was fairly at the bottom of the stairs, he turned, and, white with rage,
+      looked up at Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charity begins at home, my lord,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Look at home&mdash;you shall
+      pay for this,&rdquo; added he, standing half-shielded by the house-door, for
+      Lord Colambre moved forward as he spoke the last words; &ldquo;and I give you
+      this warning, because I know it will be of no use to you&mdash;Your most
+      obedient, my lord.&rdquo; The house-door closed after him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank Heaven,&rdquo; thought Lord Colambre, &ldquo;that I did not horsewhip that mean
+      wretch!&mdash;This warning shall be of use to me. But it is not time to
+      think of that yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre turned from his own affairs to those of his friend, to offer
+      all the assistance and consolation in his power. Sir John Berryl died that
+      night. His daughters, who had lived in the highest style in London, were
+      left totally unprovided for. His widow had mortgaged her jointure. Mr.
+      Berryl had an estate now left to him, but without any income. He could not
+      be so dishonest as to refuse to pay his father&rsquo;s just debts; he could not
+      let his mother and sisters starve. The scene of distress to which Lord
+      Colambre was witness in this family made a still greater impression upon
+      him than had been made by the warning or the threats of Mordicai. The
+      similarity between the circumstances of his friend&rsquo;s family and of his own
+      struck him forcibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this evil had arisen from Lady Berryl&rsquo;s passion for living in London
+      and at watering places. She had made her husband an ABSENTEE&mdash;an
+      absentee from his home, his affairs, his duties, and his estate. The sea,
+      the Irish Channel, did not, indeed, flow between him and his estate; but
+      it was of little importance whether the separation was effected by land or
+      water&mdash;the consequences, the negligence, the extravagance, were the
+      same.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Of the few people of his age who are capable of benefiting by the
+      experience of others, Lord Colambre was one. &ldquo;Experience,&rdquo; as an elegant
+      writer has observed, &ldquo;is an article that may be borrowed with safety, and
+      is often dearly bought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, Lady Clonbrony had been occupied with thoughts very
+      different from those which passed in the mind of her son. Though she had
+      never completely recovered from her rheumatic pains, she had become
+      inordinately impatient of confinement to her own house, and weary of those
+      dull evenings at home, which had, in her son&rsquo;s absence, become
+      insupportable. She told over her visiting tickets regularly twice a day,
+      and gave to every card of invitation a heartfelt sigh. Miss Pratt alarmed
+      her ladyship, by bringing intelligence of some parties given by persons of
+      consequence, to which she was not invited. She feared that she should be
+      forgotten in the world, well knowing how soon the world forgets those they
+      do not see every day and every where. How miserable is the fine lady&rsquo;s
+      lot, who cannot forget, and who is forgotten by the world in a moment! How
+      much more miserable still is the condition of a would-be fine lady,
+      working her way up in the world with care and pains! By her, every the
+      slightest failure of attention, from persons of rank and fashion, is
+      marked and felt with a jealous anxiety, and with a sense of mortification
+      the most acute&mdash;an invitation omitted is a matter of the most serious
+      consequence, not only as it regards the present but the future; for if she
+      be not invited by Lady A, it will lower her in the eyes of Lady B, and of
+      all the ladies in the alphabet. It will form a precedent of the most
+      dangerous and inevitable application. If she have nine invitations, and
+      the tenth be wanting, the nine have no power to make her happy. This was
+      precisely Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s case&mdash;there was to be a party at Lady St.
+      James&rsquo;s, for which Lady Clonbrony had no card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So ungrateful, so monstrous, of Lady St. James!&mdash;What! was the gala
+      so soon forgotten, and all the marked attentions paid that night to Lady
+      St. James!&mdash;attentions, you know, Pratt, which were looked upon with
+      a jealous eye, and made me enemies enough, I am told, in another quarter!&mdash;Of
+      all people, I did not expect to be slighted by Lady St. James!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Pratt, who was ever ready to undertake the defence of any person who
+      had a title, pleaded, in mitigation of censure that perhaps Lady St. James
+      might not be aware that her ladyship was yet well enough to venture out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear Miss Pratt, that cannot be the thing; for, in spite of my
+      rheumatism, which really was bad enough last Sunday, I went on purpose to
+      the Royal Chapel, to show myself in the closet, and knelt close to her
+      ladyship.&mdash;And, my dear, we curtsied, and she congratulated me, after
+      church, upon my being abroad again, and was so happy to see me look so
+      well, and all that&mdash;Oh! it is something very extraordinary and
+      unaccountable!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, I dare say, a card will come yet,&rdquo; said Miss Pratt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon this hint, Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s hope revived; and, staying her anger, she
+      began to consider how she could manage to get herself invited. Refreshing
+      tickets were left next morning at Lady St. James&rsquo;s with their corners
+      properly turned up; to do the thing better, separate tickets from herself
+      and Miss Nugent were left for each member of the family; and her civil
+      messages, left with the footmen, extended to the utmost possibility of
+      remainder. It had occurred to her ladyship, that for Miss Somebody, <i>the
+      companion</i>, of whom she had never in her life thought before, she had
+      omitted to leave a card last time, and she now left a note of explanation;
+      she farther, with her rheumatic head and arm out of the coach-window, sat,
+      the wind blowing keen upon her, explaining to the porter and the footman,
+      to discover whether her former tickets had gone safely up to Lady St.
+      James; and on the present occasion, to make assurance doubly sure, she
+      slid handsome expedition money into the servant&rsquo;s hand&mdash;&ldquo;Sir, you
+      will be sure to remember&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Oh, certainly, your ladyship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She well knew what dire offence has frequently been taken, what sad
+      disasters have occurred in the fashionable world, from the neglect of a
+      porter in delivering, or of a footman in carrying up, one of those
+      talismanic cards. But, in spite of all her manoeuvres, no invitation to
+      the party arrived next day. Pratt was next set to work. Miss Pratt was a
+      most convenient go-between, who, in consequence of doing a thousand little
+      services, to which few others of her rank in life would stoop, had
+      obtained the entrée to a number of great houses, and was behind the scenes
+      in many fashionable families. Pratt could find out, and Pratt could hint,
+      and Pratt could manage to get things done cleverly&mdash;and hints were
+      given, in all directions, to <i>work round</i> to Lady St. James. But
+      still they did not take effect. At last Pratt suggested, that perhaps,
+      though every thing else had failed, dried salmon might be tried with
+      success. Lord Clonbrony had just had some uncommonly good from Ireland,
+      which Pratt knew Lady St. James would like to have at her supper, because
+      a certain personage, whom she would not name, was particularly fond of it&mdash;Wheel
+      within wheel in the fine world, as well as in the political world!&mdash;Bribes
+      for all occasions and for all ranks!&mdash;The timely present was sent,
+      accepted with many thanks, and understood as it was meant. Per favour of
+      this propitiatory offering, and of a promise of half a dozen pair of real
+      Limerick gloves to Miss Pratt&mdash;a promise which Pratt clearly
+      comprehended to be a conditional promise&mdash;the grand object was at
+      length accomplished. The very day before the party was to take place came
+      cards of invitation to Lady Clonbrony and to Miss Nugent, with Lady St.
+      James&rsquo;s apologies: her ladyship was concerned to find that, by some
+      negligence of her servants, these cards were not sent in proper time. &ldquo;How
+      slight an apology will do from some people!&rdquo; thought Miss Nugent; &ldquo;how
+      eager to forgive, when it is for our interest or our pleasure! how well
+      people act the being deceived, even when all parties know that they see
+      the whole truth! and how low pride will stoop to gain its object!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ashamed of the whole transaction, Miss Nugent earnestly wished that a
+      refusal should be sent, and reminded her aunt of her rheumatism; but
+      rheumatism and all other objections were overruled&mdash;Lady Clonbrony
+      would go. It was just when this affair was thus, in her opinion,
+      successfully settled, that Lord Colambre came in, with a countenance of
+      unusual seriousness, his mind full of the melancholy scenes he had
+      witnessed in his friend&rsquo;s family.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, Colambre?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He related what had passed; he described the brutal conduct of Mordicai;
+      the anguish of the mother and sisters; the distress of Mr. Berryl. Tears
+      rolled down Miss Nugent&rsquo;s cheeks&mdash;Lady Clonbrony declared it was very
+      <i>shocking</i>; listened with attention to all the particulars; but never
+      failed to correct her son, whenever he said Mr. Berryl&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Sir Arthur</i> Berryl, you mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was, however, really touched with compassion when he spoke of Lady
+      Berryl&rsquo;s destitute condition; and her son was going on to repeat what
+      Mordicai had said to him, but Lady Clonbrony interrupted, &ldquo;Oh, my dear
+      Colambre! don&rsquo;t repeat that detestable man&rsquo;s impertinent speeches to me.
+      If there is any thing really about business, speak to your father. At any
+      rate don&rsquo;t tell us of it now, because I&rsquo;ve a hundred things to do,&rdquo; said
+      her ladyship, hurrying out of the room&mdash;&ldquo;Grace, Grace Nugent! I want
+      you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre sighed deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t despair,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, as she followed to obey her aunt&rsquo;s
+      summons. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t despair; don&rsquo;t attempt to speak to her again till
+      to-morrow morning. Her head is now full of Lady St. James&rsquo;s party. When it
+      is emptied of that, you will have a better chance. Never despair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never, while you encourage me to hope&mdash;that any good can be done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony was particularly glad that she had carried her point about
+      this party at Lady St. James&rsquo;s; because, from the first private intimation
+      that the Duchess of Torcaster was to be there, her ladyship flattered
+      herself that the long-desired introduction might then be accomplished. But
+      of this hope Lady St. James had likewise received intimation from the
+      double-dealing Miss Pratt; and a warning note was despatched to the
+      duchess to let her grace know that circumstances had occurred which had
+      rendered it impossible not to <i>ask the Clonbronies</i>. An excuse, of
+      course, for not going to this party, was sent by the duchess&mdash;her
+      grace did not like large parties&mdash;she would have the pleasure of
+      accepting Lady St. James&rsquo;s invitation for her select party on Wednesday,
+      the 10th. Into these select parties Lady Clonbrony had never been
+      admitted. In return for great entertainments she was invited to great
+      entertainments, to large parties; but further she could never penetrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Lady St. James&rsquo;s, and with her set, Lady Clonbrony suffered a different
+      kind of mortification from that which Lady Langdale and Mrs. Dareville
+      made her endure. She was safe from the witty raillery, the sly inuendo,
+      the insolent mimicry; but she was kept at a cold, impassable distance, by
+      ceremony&mdash;&ldquo;So far shalt thou go, and no further,&rdquo; was expressed in
+      every look, in every word, and in a thousand different ways.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the most punctilious respect and nice regard to precedency, even by
+      words of courtesy&mdash;&ldquo;Your ladyship does me honour,&rdquo; &amp;c.&mdash;Lady
+      St. James contrived to mortify and to mark the difference between those
+      with whom she was, and with whom she was not, upon terms of intimacy and
+      equality. Thus the ancient grandees of Spain drew a line of demarcation
+      between themselves and the newly created nobility. Whenever or wherever
+      they met, they treated the new nobles with the utmost respect, never
+      addressed them but with all their titles, with low bows, and with all the
+      appearance of being, with the most perfect consideration, anything but
+      their equals; whilst towards one another the grandees laid aside their
+      state, and omitting their titles, it was &ldquo;Alcalá&mdash;Medina Sidonia&mdash;Infantado,&rdquo;
+       and a freedom and familiarity which marked equality. Entrenched in
+      etiquette in this manner, and mocked with marks of respect, it was
+      impossible either to intrude or to complain of being excluded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At supper at Lady St. James&rsquo;s, Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s present was pronounced by
+      some gentlemen to be remarkably high flavoured. This observation turned
+      the conversation to Irish commodities and Ireland. Lady Clonbrony,
+      possessed by the idea that it was disadvantageous to appear as an
+      Irishwoman or as a favourer of Ireland, began to be embarrassed by Lady
+      St. James&rsquo;s repeated thanks. Had it been in her power to offer any thing
+      else with propriety, she would not have thought of sending her ladyship
+      any thing from Ireland. Vexed by the questions that were asked her about
+      her <i>country</i>, Lady Clonbrony, as usual, denied it to be her country,
+      and went on to depreciate and abuse every thing Irish; to declare that
+      there was no possibility of living in Ireland; and that, for her own part,
+      she was resolved never to return thither. Lady St. James, preserving
+      perfect silence, let her go on. Lady Clonbrony imagining that this silence
+      arose from coincidence of opinion, proceeded with all the eloquence she
+      possessed, which was very little, repeating the same exclamations, and
+      reiterating her vow of perpetual expatriation; till at last an elderly
+      lady, who was a stranger to her, and whom she had till this moment
+      scarcely noticed, took up the defence of Ireland with much warmth and
+      energy: the eloquence with which she spoke, and the respect with which she
+      was heard, astonished Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is she?&rdquo; whispered her ladyship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does not your ladyship know Lady Oranmore&mdash;the Irish Lady Oranmore?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord bless me!&mdash;what have I said!&mdash;what have I done!&mdash;Oh!
+      why did you not give me a hint, Lady St. James?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was not aware that your ladyship was not acquainted with Lady
+      Oranmore,&rdquo; replied Lady St. James, unmoved by her distress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every body sympathized with Lady Oranmore, and admired the honest zeal
+      with which she abided by her country, and defended it against unjust
+      aspersions and affected execrations. Every one present enjoyed Lady
+      Clonbrony&rsquo;s confusion, except Miss Nugent, who sat with her eyes bowed
+      down by penetrative shame during the whole of this scene: she was glad
+      that Lord Colambre was not witness to it; and comforted herself with the
+      hope that, upon the whole, Lady Clonbrony would be benefited by the pain
+      she had felt. This instance might convince her that it was not necessary
+      to deny her country to be received in any company in England; and that
+      those who have the courage and steadiness to be themselves, and to support
+      what they feel and believe to be the truth, must command respect. Miss
+      Nugent hoped that in consequence of this conviction Lady Clonbrony would
+      lay aside the little affectations by which her manners were painfully
+      constrained and ridiculous; and, above all, she hoped that what Lady
+      Oranmore had said of Ireland might dispose her aunt to listen with
+      patience to all Lord Colambre might urge in favour of returning to her
+      home. But Miss Nugent hoped in vain. Lady Clonbrony never in her life
+      generalized any observations, or drew any but a partial conclusion from
+      the most striking facts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord! my dear Grace!&rdquo; said she, as soon as they were seated in their
+      carriage, &ldquo;what a scrape I got into to-night at supper, and what disgrace
+      I came to!&mdash;and all this because I did not know Lady Oranmore. Now
+      you see the inconceivable disadvantage of not knowing every body&mdash;every
+      body of a certain rank, of course, I mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent endeavoured to slide in her own moral on the occasion, but it
+      would not do.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my dear, Lady Oranmore may talk in that kind of style of Ireland,
+      because, on the other hand, she is so highly connected in England; and,
+      besides, she is an old lady, and may take liberties; in short, she is Lady
+      Oranmore, and that&rsquo;s enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning, when they all met at breakfast, Lady Clonbrony
+      complained bitterly of her increased rheumatism, of the disagreeable,
+      stupid party they had had the preceding night, and of the necessity of
+      going to another formal party to-morrow night, and the next, and the next
+      night, and, in the true fine lady style, deplored her situation, and the
+      impossibility of avoiding those things,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent determined to retire as soon as she could from the
+      breakfast-room, to leave Lord Colambre an opportunity of talking over his
+      family affairs at full liberty. She knew by the seriousness of his
+      countenance that his mind was intent upon doing so, and she hoped that his
+      influence with his father and mother would not be exerted in vain. But
+      just as she was rising from the breakfast-table, in came Sir Terence
+      O&rsquo;Fay, and seating himself quite at his ease, in spite of Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s
+      repulsive looks, his awe of Lord Colambre having now worn off, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+      tired,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and have a right to be tired; for it&rsquo;s no small walk
+      I&rsquo;ve taken for the good of this noble family this morning. And, Miss
+      Nugent, before I say more, I&rsquo;ll take a cup of <i>ta</i> from you, if you
+      please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony rose, with great stateliness, and walked to the farthest
+      end of the room, where she established herself at her writing-table, and
+      began to write notes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence wiped his forehead deliberately.&mdash;&ldquo;Then I&rsquo;ve had a fine
+      run&mdash;Miss Nugent, I believe you never saw me run; but I can run, I
+      promise you, when it&rsquo;s to serve a friend&mdash;And my lord (turning to
+      Lord Clonbrony), what do you think I run for this morning&mdash;to buy a
+      bargain&mdash;and of what?&mdash;a bargain of a bad debt&mdash;a debt of
+      yours, which I bargained for, and up just in time&mdash;and Mordicai&rsquo;s
+      ready to hang himself this minute&mdash;For what do you think that rascal
+      was bringing upon you&mdash;but an execution?&mdash;he was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An execution!&rdquo; repeated every body present, except Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how has this been prevented, sir?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! let me alone for that,&rdquo; said Sir Terence. &ldquo;I got a hint from my
+      little friend, Paddy Brady, who would not be paid for it either, though
+      he&rsquo;s as poor as a rat. Well! as soon as I got the hint, I dropped the
+      thing I had in my hand, which was the Dublin Evening, and ran for the bare
+      life&mdash;for there wasn&rsquo;t a coach&mdash;in my slippers, as I was, to get
+      into the prior creditor&rsquo;s shoes, who is the little solicitor that lives in
+      Crutched Friars, which Mordicai never dreamt of, luckily; so he was very
+      genteel, though he was taken on a sudden, and from his breakfast, which an
+      Englishman don&rsquo;t like particularly&mdash;I popped him a douceur of a
+      draft, at thirty-one days, on Garraghty, the agent; of which he must get
+      notice; but I won&rsquo;t descant on the law before the ladies&mdash;he handed
+      me over his debt and execution, and he made me prior creditor in a trice.
+      Then I took coach in state, the first I met, and away with me to Long Acre&mdash;saw
+      Mordicai. &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; says I, &lsquo;I hear you&rsquo;re meditating an execution on a
+      friend of mine.&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;Am I?&rsquo; said the rascal; &lsquo;who told you so?&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;No
+      matter,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;but I just called in to let you know there&rsquo;s no use in
+      life of your execution; for there&rsquo;s a prior creditor with his execution to
+      be satisfied first.&rsquo; So he made a great many black faces, and said a great
+      deal, which I never listened to, but came off here clean to tell you all
+      the story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one word of which do I understand,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, my dear, you are very ungrateful,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre said nothing, for he wished to learn more of Sir Terence
+      O&rsquo;Fay&rsquo;s character, of the state of his father&rsquo;s affairs, and of the family
+      methods of proceeding in matters of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faith! Terry, I know I&rsquo;m very thankful to you&mdash;But an execution&rsquo;s an
+      ugly thing,&mdash;and I hope there&rsquo;s no danger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never fear!&rdquo; said Sir Terence: &ldquo;hav&rsquo;n&rsquo;t I been at my wits&rsquo; ends for
+      myself or my friends ever since I come to man&rsquo;s estate&mdash;to years of
+      discretion, I should say, for the deuce a foot of estate have I! But use
+      has sharpened my wits pretty well for your service; so never be in dread,
+      my good lord; for look ye!&rdquo; cried the reckless knight, sticking his arms
+      akimbo, &ldquo;look ye here! in Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay stands a host that desires no
+      better than to encounter, single-witted, all the duns in the united
+      kingdoms, Mordicai the Jew inclusive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! that&rsquo;s the devil, that Mordicai,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s the
+      only man on earth I dread.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, he is only a coachmaker, is not he?&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony: &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t
+      think how you can talk, my lord, of dreading such a low man. Tell him, if
+      he&rsquo;s troublesome, we won&rsquo;t bespeak any more carriages; and, I&rsquo;m sure, I
+      wish you would not be so silly, my lord, to employ him any more, when you
+      know he disappointed me the last birthday about the landau, which I have
+      not got yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense, my dear,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;you don&rsquo;t know what you are
+      talking of&mdash;Terry, I say, even a friendly execution is an ugly
+      thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Phoo! phoo!&mdash;an ugly thing!&mdash;So is a fit of the gout&mdash;but
+      one&rsquo;s all the better for it after. &lsquo;Tis just a renewal of life, my, lord,
+      for which one must pay a bit of a fine, you know. Take patience, and leave
+      me to manage all properly&mdash;you know I&rsquo;m used to these things: only
+      you recollect, if you please, how I managed my friend Lord&mdash;&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+      bad to be mentioning names&mdash;but Lord <i>Every-body-knows-who</i>&mdash;didn&rsquo;t
+      I bring him through cleverly, when there was that rascally attempt to
+      seize the family plate? I had notice, and what did I do, but broke open a
+      partition between that lord&rsquo;s house and my lodgings, which I had taken
+      next door; and so, when the sheriffs officers were searching below on the
+      ground floor, I just shoved the plate easy through to my bedchamber at a
+      moment&rsquo;s warning, and then bid the gentlemen walk in, for they couldn&rsquo;t
+      set a foot in my paradise, the devils!&mdash;So they stood looking at it
+      through the wall, and cursing me, and I holding both my sides with
+      laughter at their fallen faces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence and Lord Clonbrony laughed in concert.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a good story,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, smiling; &ldquo;but surely, Sir
+      Terence, such things are never done in real life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Done! ay, are they; and I could tell you a hundred better strokes, my
+      dear Miss Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace!&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;do pray have the goodness to seal and send
+      these notes; for really,&rdquo; whispered she, as her niece came to the table,
+      &ldquo;I <i>cawnt stee</i>, I <i>cawnt</i> bear that man&rsquo;s <i>vice</i>, his
+      accent grows horrider and horrider!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her ladyship rose, and left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, then,&rdquo; continued Sir Terence, following Miss Nugent to the table,
+      where she was sealing letters&mdash;&ldquo;I must tell you how I <i>sa</i>rved
+      that same man on another occasion, and got the victory, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No general officer could talk of his victories, or fight his battles o&rsquo;er
+      again, with more complacency than Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay recounted his <i>civil</i>
+      exploits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I&rsquo;ll tell you, Miss Nugent. There was a footman in the family, not an
+      Irishman, but one of your powdered English scoundrels that ladies are so
+      fond of having hanging to the backs of their carriages; one Fleming he
+      was, that turned spy, and traitor, and informer, went privately and gave
+      notice to the creditors where the plate was hid in the thickness of the
+      chimney; but if he did, what happened? Why, I had my counter-spy, an
+      honest little Irish boy, in the creditor&rsquo;s shop, that I had secured with a
+      little douceur of usquebaugh; and he outwitted, as was natural, the
+      English lying valet, and gave us notice, just in the nick, and I got ready
+      for their reception; and, Miss Nugent, I only wish you&rsquo;d seen the
+      excellent sport we had, letting them follow the scent they got; and when
+      they were sure of their game, what did they find?&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!&mdash;dragged
+      out, after a world of labour, a heavy box of&mdash;a load of brick-bats;
+      not an item of my friend&rsquo;s plate, that was all snug in the coal-hole,
+      where them dunces never thought of looking for it&mdash;Ha! ha! ha!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But come, Terry,&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll pull down your pride.&mdash;How
+      finely, another time, your job of the false ceiling answered in the hall.
+      I&rsquo;ve heard that story, and have been told how the sheriff&rsquo;s fellow thrust
+      his bayonet up through your false plaster, and down came tumbling the
+      family plate&mdash;hey! Terry?&mdash;That hit cost your friend, Lord
+      Every-body-knows-who, more than your head&rsquo;s worth, Terry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ask your pardon, my lord, it never cost him a farthing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When he paid 7000<i>l.</i> for the plate, to redeem it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! and did not I make up for that at the races of &mdash;&mdash;? The
+      creditors learned that my lord&rsquo;s horse, Naboclish, was to run at &mdash;&mdash;
+      races; and, as the sheriff&rsquo;s officer knew he dare not touch him on the
+      race-ground, what does he do, but he comes down early in the morning on
+      the mail-coach, and walks straight down to the livery stables. He had an
+      exact description of the stables, and the stall, and the horse&rsquo;s body
+      clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was there, seeing the horse taken care of; and, knowing the cut of the
+      fellow&rsquo;s jib, what does I do, but whips the body clothes off Naboclish,
+      and claps them upon a garrone, that the priest would not ride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In comes the bailiff&mdash;&lsquo;Good morrow to you, sir,&rsquo; says I, leading out
+      of the stable my lord&rsquo;s horse, with an <i>ould</i> saddle and bridle on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tim Neal,&rsquo; says I to the groom, who was rubbing down the garrone&rsquo;s
+      heels, &lsquo;mind your hits to-day, and <i>wee&rsquo;l</i> wet the plate to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Not so fast, neither,&rsquo; says the bailiff&mdash;&lsquo;here&rsquo;s my writ for
+      seizing the horse.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Och,&rsquo; says I, &lsquo;you wouldn&rsquo;t be so cruel.&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;That&rsquo;s all my eye,&rsquo; says he, seizing the garrone, while I mounted
+      Naboclish, and rode him off deliberately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha! ha! ha!&mdash;That <i>was</i> neat, I grant you, Terry,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Clonbrony. &ldquo;But what a dolt of a born ignoramus must that sheriff&rsquo;s fellow
+      have been, not to know Naboclish when he saw him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But stay, my lord&mdash;stay, Miss Nugent&mdash;I have more for you,&rdquo;
+       following her wherever she moved&mdash;&ldquo;I did not let him off so, even. At
+      the cant, I bid and bid against them for the pretended Naboclish, till I
+      left him on their hands for 500 guineas&mdash;ha! ha! ha!&mdash;was not
+      that famous?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, &ldquo;I cannot believe you are in earnest, Sir Terence&mdash;Surely
+      this would be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&mdash;out with it, my dear Miss Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid of offending you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t, my dear, I defy you&mdash;say the word that came to the
+      tongue&rsquo;s end; it&rsquo;s always the best.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was going to say, swindling,&rdquo; said the young lady, colouring deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you was going to say wrong, then! It&rsquo;s not called swindling amongst
+      gentlemen who know the world&mdash;it&rsquo;s only jockeying&mdash;fine sport&mdash;and
+      very honourable to help a friend at a dead lift. Any thing to help a
+      friend out of a present pressing difficulty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when the present difficulty is over, do your friends never think of
+      the future?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The future! leave the future to posterity,&rdquo; said Sir Terence; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+      counsel only for the present; and when the evil comes, it&rsquo;s time enough to
+      think of it. I can&rsquo;t bring the guns of my wits to bear till the enemy&rsquo;s
+      alongside of me, or within sight of me at the least. And besides, there
+      never was a good commander yet, by sea or land, that would tell his little
+      expedients beforehand, or before the very day of battle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be a sad thing,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, sighing deeply, &ldquo;to be reduced
+      to live by little expedients&mdash;daily expedients.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre struck his forehead, but said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you are beating your brains about your own affairs, my Lord
+      Colambre, my dear,&rdquo; said Sir Terence, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s an easy way of settling
+      your family affairs at once; and since you don&rsquo;t like little daily
+      expedients, Miss Nugent, there&rsquo;s one great expedient, and an expedient for
+      life, that will settle it all to your satisfaction&mdash;and ours. I
+      hinted it delicately to you before; but, between friends, delicacy is
+      impertinent; so I tell you, in plain English, you&rsquo;ve nothing to do but go
+      and propose yourself, just as you stand, to the heiress Miss B&mdash;&mdash;,
+      that desires no better&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, stepping forward, red with sudden anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent laid her hand upon his arm. &ldquo;Oh, my lord!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay,&rdquo; continued Lord Colambre, in a moderated tone, &ldquo;you
+      are wrong to mention that young lady&rsquo;s name in such a manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why then I said only Miss B&mdash;&mdash;, and there are a whole hive of
+      <i>bees</i>. But I&rsquo;ll engage she&rsquo;d thank me for what I suggested, and
+      think herself the queen bee if my expedient was adopted by you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir Terence,&rdquo; said his lordship, smiling, &ldquo;if my father thinks proper
+      that you should manage his affairs, and devise expedients for him, I have
+      nothing to say on that point; but I must beg you will not trouble yourself
+      to suggest expedients for me, and that you will have the goodness to leave
+      me to settle my own affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence made a low bow, and was silent for five seconds; then turning
+      to Lord Clonbrony, who looked much more abashed than he did, &ldquo;By the wise
+      one, my good lord, I believe there are some men&mdash;noblemen, too&mdash;that
+      don&rsquo;t know their friends from their enemies. It&rsquo;s my firm persuasion, now,
+      that if I had served you as I served my friend I was talking of, your son
+      there would, ten to one, think I had done him an injury by saving the
+      family plate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly should, sir. The family plate, sir, is not the first object
+      in my mind,&rdquo; replied Lord Colambre; &ldquo;family honour&mdash;Nay, Miss Nugent,
+      I must speak,&rdquo; continued his lordship; perceiving, by her countenance,
+      that she was alarmed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never fear, Miss Nugent, dear,&rdquo; said Sir Terence; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m as cool as a
+      cucumber.&mdash;Faith! then, my Lord Colambre, I agree with you, that
+      family honour&rsquo;s a mighty fine thing, only troublesome to one&rsquo;s self and
+      one&rsquo;s friends, and expensive to keep up with all the other expenses and
+      debts a gentleman has now-a-days. So I, that am under no natural
+      obligations to it by birth or otherwise, have just stood by it through
+      life, and asked myself, before I would volunteer being bound to it, what
+      could this same family honour do for a man in this world? And, first and
+      foremost, I never remember to see family honour stand a man in much stead
+      in a court of law&mdash;never saw family honour stand against an
+      execution, or a custodiam, or an injunction even.&mdash;&lsquo;Tis a rare thing,
+      this same family honour, and a very fine thing; but I never knew it yet,
+      at a pinch, pay for a pair of boots even,&rdquo; added Sir Terence, drawing up
+      his own with much complacency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment, Sir Terence was called out of the room by one who wanted
+      to speak to him on particular business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear father,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, &ldquo;do not follow him; stay, for one
+      moment, and hear your son, your true friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear your natural friend for one moment,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Let me
+      beseech you, father, not to have recourse to any of these paltry
+      expedients, but trust your son with the state of your affairs, and we
+      shall find some honourable means&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, yes, very true; when you&rsquo;re of age, Colambre, we&rsquo;ll talk of it;
+      but nothing can be done till then. We shall get on, we shall get through,
+      very well, till then, with Terry&rsquo;s assistance; and I must beg you will not
+      say a word more against Terry&mdash;I can&rsquo;t bear it&mdash;I can&rsquo;t bear it&mdash;I
+      can&rsquo;t do without him. Pray don&rsquo;t detain me&mdash;I can say no more&mdash;except,&rdquo;
+       added he, returning to his usual concluding sentence, &ldquo;that there need, at
+      all events, be none of this, if people would but live upon their own
+      estates, and kill their own mutton.&rdquo; He stole out of the room, glad to
+      escape, however shabbily, from present explanation and present pain. There
+      are persons without resource, who, in difficulties, return always to the
+      same point, and usually to the same words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Lord Colambre was walking up and down the room, much vexed and
+      disappointed at finding that he could make no impression on his father&rsquo;s
+      mind, nor obtain his confidence, Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s woman, Mrs. Petito,
+      knocked at the door, with a message from her lady, to beg, if Lord
+      Colambre was <i>by himself</i>, he would go to her dressing-room, as she
+      wished to have a conference with him. He obeyed her summons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, my dear Colambre&mdash;&rdquo; And she began precisely with her old
+      sentence&mdash;&ldquo;With the fortune I brought your father, and with my lord&rsquo;s
+      estate, I <i>cawnt</i> understand the meaning of all these pecuniary
+      difficulties; and all that strange creature Sir Terence says is algebra to
+      me, who speak English. And I am particularly sorry he was let in this
+      morning&mdash;but he&rsquo;s such a brute that he does not think any thing of
+      forcing one&rsquo;s door, and he tells my footman he does not mind <i>not at
+      home</i> a pinch of snuff. Now what can you do with a man who could say
+      that sort of thing, you know?&mdash;the world&rsquo;s at an end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish my father had nothing to do with him, ma&rsquo;am, as much as you can
+      wish it,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;but I have said all that a son can say, and
+      without effect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What particularly provokes me against him,&rdquo; continued Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;is
+      what I have just heard from Grace, who was really hurt by it, too, for she
+      is the warmest friend in the world: I allude to the creature&rsquo;s indelicate
+      way of touching upon a tender <i>pint</i>, and mentioning an amiable young
+      heiress&rsquo;s name. My dear Colambre, I trust you have given me credit for my
+      inviolable silence all this time, upon the <i>pint</i> nearest my heart. I
+      am rejoiced to hear you <i>was</i> so warm when she was mentioned
+      inadvertently by that brute, and I trust you now see the advantages of the
+      projected union in as strong and agreeable a <i>pint</i> of view as I do,
+      my own Colambre; and I should leave things to themselves, and let you
+      prolong the <i>dees</i> of courtship as you please, only for what I now
+      hear incidentally from my lord and the brute, about pecuniary
+      embarrassments, and the necessity of something being done before next
+      winter. And, indeed, I think now, in propriety, the proposal cannot be
+      delayed much longer; for the world begins to talk of the thing as done;
+      and even Mrs. Broadhurst, I know, had no doubt that, if this <i>contretemps</i>
+      about the poor Berryls had not occurred, your proposal would have been
+      made before the end of last week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Our hero was not a man to make a proposal because Mrs. Broadhurst expected
+      it, or to marry because the world said he was going to be married. He
+      steadily said, that, from the first moment the subject had been mentioned,
+      he had explained himself distinctly; that the young lady&rsquo;s friends could
+      not, therefore, be under any doubt as to his intentions; that, if they had
+      voluntarily deceived themselves, or exposed the lady in situations from
+      which the world was led to make false conclusions, he was not answerable:
+      he felt his conscience at ease&mdash;entirely so, as he was convinced that
+      the young lady herself, for whose merit, talents, independence, and
+      generosity of character he professed high respect, esteem, and admiration,
+      had no doubts either of the extent or the nature of his regard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Regard, respect, esteem, admiration!&mdash;Why, my dearest Colambre! this
+      is saying all I want; satisfies me, and I am sure would satisfy Mrs.
+      Broadhurst, and Miss Broadhurst too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No doubt it will, ma&rsquo;am: but not if I aspired to the honour of Miss
+      Broadhurst&rsquo;s hand, or professed myself her lover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, you are mistaken: Miss Broadhurst is too sensible a girl, a vast
+      deal, to look for love, and a dying lover, and all that sort of stuff: I
+      am persuaded&mdash;indeed I have it from good, from the best authority,
+      that the young lady&mdash;you know one must be delicate in these cases,
+      where a young lady of such fortune, and no despicable family too, is
+      concerned; therefore I cannot speak quite plainly&mdash;but I say I have
+      it from the best authority, that you would be preferred to any other
+      suitor, and, in short, that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre,
+      colouring a good deal; &ldquo;but you must excuse me if I say, that the only
+      authority on which I could believe this is one from which I am morally
+      certain I shall never hear it&mdash;from Miss Broadhurst herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord, child! if you only ask her the question, she would tell you it is
+      truth, I dare say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But as I have no curiosity on the subject, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord bless me! I thought everybody had curiosity. But still, without
+      curiosity, I am sure it would gratify you when you did hear it; and can&rsquo;t
+      you just put the simple question?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&mdash;now that is so very provoking when the thing is all but
+      done. Well, take your own time; all I will ask of you then is, to let
+      things go on as they are going&mdash;smoothly and pleasantly; and I&rsquo;ll not
+      press you further on the subject at present. Let things go on smoothly,
+      that&rsquo;s all I ask, and say nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I could oblige you, mother; but I cannot do this. Since you tell
+      me that the world and Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s friends have already misunderstood
+      my intentions, it becomes necessary, in justice to the young lady and to
+      myself, that I should make all further doubt impossible&mdash;I shall,
+      therefore, put an end to it at once, by leaving town to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony, breathless for a moment with surprise, exclaimed, &ldquo;Bless
+      me! leave town to-morrow! Just at the beginning of the season! Impossible!&mdash;I
+      never saw such a precipitate rash young man. But stay only a few weeks,
+      Colambre; the physicians advise Buxton for my rheumatism, and you shall
+      take us to Buxton early in the season&mdash;you cannot refuse me that.
+      Why, if Miss Broadhurst was a dragon, you could not be in a greater hurry
+      to run away from her. What are you afraid of?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of doing what is wrong&mdash;the only thing, I trust, of which I shall
+      ever be afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony tried persuasion and argument&mdash;such argument as she
+      could use&mdash;but all in vain&mdash;Lord Colambre was firm in his
+      resolution; at last, she came to tears; and her son, in much agitation,
+      said, &ldquo;I cannot bear this, mother!&mdash;I would do any thing you ask,
+      that I could do with honour; but this is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why impossible? I will take all blame upon myself; and you are sure that
+      Miss Broadhurst does not misunderstand you, and you esteem her, and admire
+      her, and all that; and all I ask; is, that you&rsquo;ll go on as you are, and
+      see more of her; and how do you know but you may fall in love with her, as
+      you call it, to-morrow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, madam, since you press me so far, my affections are engaged to
+      another person. Do not look so dreadfully shocked, my dear mother&mdash;I
+      have told you truly, that I think myself too young, much too young, yet to
+      marry. In the circumstances in which I know my family are, it is probable
+      that I shall not for some years be able to marry as I wish. You may depend
+      upon it that I shall not take any step, I shall not even declare my
+      attachment to the object of my affection, without your knowledge; and, far
+      from being inclined headlong to follow my own passions&mdash;strong as
+      they are&mdash;be assured that the honour of my family, your happiness, my
+      mother, my father&rsquo;s, are my first objects: I shall never think of my own
+      till these are secured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Of the conclusion of this speech, Lady Clonbrony heard only the sound of
+      the words; from the moment her son had pronounced that his affections were
+      engaged, she had been running over in her head every probable and
+      improbable person she could think of; at last, suddenly starting up, she
+      opened one of the folding-doors into the next apartment, and called,
+      &ldquo;Grace!&mdash;Grace Nugent!&mdash;put down your pencil, Grace, this
+      minute, and come here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent obeyed with her usual alacrity; and the moment she entered the
+      room, Lady Clonbrony, fixing her eyes full upon her, said, &ldquo;There&rsquo;s your
+      cousin Colambre tells me his affections are engaged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, to Miss Broadhurst, no doubt,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, smiling, with a
+      simplicity and openness of countenance, which assured Lady Clonbrony that
+      all was safe in that quarter: a suspicion which had darted into her mind
+      was dispelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No doubt&mdash;Ay, do you hear that <i>no doubt</i>, Colambre?&mdash;Grace,
+      you see, has no doubt; nobody has any doubt but yourself, Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And are your affections engaged, and not to Miss Broadhurst?&rdquo; said Miss
+      Nugent, approaching Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There now! you see how you surprise and disappoint every body, Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry that Miss Nugent should be disappointed,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But because I am disappointed, pray do not call me Miss Nugent, or turn
+      away from me, as if you were displeased.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must, then, be some Cambridgeshire lady,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;I am
+      sure I am very sorry he ever went to Cambridge&mdash;Oxford I advised: one
+      of the Miss Berryls, I presume, who have nothing. I&rsquo;ll have no more to do
+      with those Berryls&mdash;there was the reason of the son&rsquo;s vast intimacy.
+      Grace, you may give up all thoughts of Sir Arthur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no thoughts to give up, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, smiling. &ldquo;Miss
+      Broadhurst,&rdquo; continued she, going on eagerly with what she was saying to
+      Lord Colambre, &ldquo;Miss Broadhurst is my friend, a friend I love and admire;
+      but you will allow that I strictly kept my promise, never to praise her to
+      you, till you should begin to praise her to me. Now recollect, last night,
+      you did praise her to me, so justly, that I thought you liked her, I
+      confess; so that it is natural I should feel a little disappointed. Now
+      you know the whole of my mind; I have no intention to encroach on your
+      confidence; therefore, there is no occasion to look so embarrassed. I give
+      you my word, I will never speak to you again upon the subject,&rdquo; said she,
+      holding out her hand to him, &ldquo;provided you will never again call me Miss
+      Nugent. Am I not your own cousin Grace?&mdash;Do not be displeased with
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are my own dear cousin Grace; and nothing can be farther from my mind
+      than any thought of being displeased with her; especially just at this
+      moment, when I am going away, probably, for a considerable time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Away!&mdash;when?&mdash;where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow morning, for Ireland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ireland! of all places,&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;What upon earth puts it
+      into your head to go to Ireland? You do very well to go out of the way of
+      falling in love ridiculously, since that is the reason of your going; but
+      what put Ireland into your head, child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not presume to ask my mother what put Ireland out of her head,&rdquo;
+       said Lord Colambre, smiling; &ldquo;but she will recollect that it is my native
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was your father&rsquo;s fault, not mine,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;for I
+      wished to have been confined in England: but he would have it to say that
+      his son and heir was born at Clonbrony Castle&mdash;and there was a great
+      argument between him and my uncle, and something about the Prince of Wales
+      and Caernarvon Castle was thrown in, and that turned the scale, much
+      against my will; for it was my wish that my son should be an Englishman
+      born&mdash;like myself. But, after all, I don&rsquo;t see that having the
+      misfortune to be born in a country should tie one to it in any sort of
+      way; and I should have hoped your English <i>edication</i>, Colambre,
+      would have given you too liberal <i>idears</i> for that&mdash;so I <i>reely</i>
+      don&rsquo;t see why you should go to Ireland merely because it&rsquo;s your native
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not merely because it is my native country&mdash;but I wish to go thither&mdash;I
+      desire to become acquainted with it&mdash;because it is the country in
+      which my father&rsquo;s property lies, and from which we draw our subsistence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Subsistence! Lord bless me, what a word! fitter for a pauper than a
+      nobleman&mdash;subsistence! Then, if you are going to look after your
+      father&rsquo;s property, I hope you will make the agents do their duty, and send
+      us remittances. And pray how long do you mean to stay?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Till I am of age, madam, if you have no objection. I will spend the
+      ensuing months in travelling in Ireland; and I will return here by the
+      time I am of age, unless you and my father should, before that time, be in
+      Ireland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the least chance of that, if I can prevent it, I promise you,&rdquo; said
+      Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am sure I shall take it very unkindly of you, Colambre, if you go
+      and turn out a partisan for Ireland, after all, like Grace Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A partisan! no;&mdash;I hope not a partisan, but a friend,&rdquo; said Miss
+      Nugent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense, child!&mdash;I hate to hear people, women especially, and young
+      ladies particularly, talk of being friends to this country or that
+      country. What can they know about countries? Better think of being friends
+      to themselves, and friends to their friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was wrong,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, &ldquo;to call myself a friend to Ireland; I
+      meant to say, that Ireland had been a friend to me: that I found Irish
+      friends, when I had no others; an Irish home, when I had no other; that my
+      earliest and happiest years, under your kind care, had been spent there;
+      and I can never forget <i>that</i>, my dear aunt&mdash;I hope you do not
+      wish that I should.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven forbid, my sweet Grace!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, touched by her voice
+      and manner; &ldquo;Heaven forbid! I don&rsquo;t wish you to do or be any thing but
+      what you are; for I am convinced there&rsquo;s nothing I could ask you would not
+      do for me: and, I can tell you, there&rsquo;s few things you could ask, love, I
+      would not do for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the wishes of
+      others, understood and answered before she ventured to make her request in
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask any thing but <i>that</i>, Grace&mdash;Return to Clonbrony, while I
+      am able to live in London? That I never can or will do for you or any
+      body!&rdquo; looking at her son in all the pride of obstinacy: &ldquo;so there is an
+      end of the matter. Go you where you please, Colambre; and I shall stay
+      where I please:&mdash;I suppose, as your mother, I have a right to say
+      this much?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her son, with the utmost respect, assured her that he had no design to
+      infringe upon her undoubted liberty of judging for herself; that he had
+      never interfered, except so far as to tell her circumstances of her
+      affairs with which she seemed to be totally unacquainted, and of which it
+      might he dangerous to her to continue in ignorance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t talk to me about affairs,&rdquo; cried she, drawing her hand away from
+      her son. &ldquo;Talk to my lord, or my lord&rsquo;s agents, since you are going to
+      Ireland about business&mdash;I know nothing about business; but this I
+      know, I shall stay in England, and be in London, every season, as long as
+      I can afford it; and when I cannot afford to live here, I hope I shall not
+      live any where. That&rsquo;s my notion of life; and that&rsquo;s my determination,
+      once for all; for, if none of the rest of the Clonbrony family have any, I
+      thank Heaven I have some spirit.&rdquo; Saying this, in her most stately manner
+      she walked out of the room. Lord Colambre instantly followed her: for
+      after the resolution and the promise he had made, he did not dare to trust
+      himself at this moment with Miss Nugent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was to be a concert this night at Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s, at which Mrs.
+      and Miss Broadhurst were of course expected. That they might not he quite
+      unprepared for the event of her son&rsquo;s going to Ireland, Lady Clonbrony
+      wrote a note to Mrs. Broadhurst, begging her to come half an hour earlier
+      than the time mentioned in the cards, &ldquo;that she might talk over something
+      <i>particular</i> that had just occurred.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      What passed at this cabinet council, as it seems to have had no immediate
+      influence on affairs, we need not record. Suffice it to observe, that a
+      great deal was said, and nothing done. Miss Broadhurst, however, was not a
+      young lady who could easily be deceived, even where her passions were
+      concerned. The moment her mother told her of Lord Colambre&rsquo;s intended
+      departure, she saw the whole truth. She had a strong mind, capable of
+      looking steadily at truth. Surrounded as she had been from her childhood
+      by every means of self-indulgence which wealth and flattery could bestow,
+      she had discovered early what few persons in her situation discover till
+      late in life, that selfish gratifications may render us incapable of other
+      happiness, but can never, of themselves, make us happy. Despising
+      flatterers, she had determined to make herself friends&mdash;to make them
+      in the only possible way&mdash;by deserving them. Her father realized his
+      immense fortune by the power and habit of constant, bold, and just
+      calculation. The power and habit which she had learned from him she
+      applied on a far larger scale: with him it was confined to speculations
+      for the acquisition of money; with her, it extended to the attainment of
+      happiness. He was calculating and mercenary: she was estimative and
+      generous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent was dressing for the concert, or rather was sitting
+      half-dressed before her glass, reflecting, when Miss Broadhurst came into
+      her room. Miss Nugent immediately sent her maid out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst, looking at Grace with an air of open
+      deliberate composure, &ldquo;you and I are thinking of the same thing&mdash;of
+      the same person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, of Lord Colambre,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, ingenuously and sorrowfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I can put your mind at ease, at once, my dear friend, by assuring
+      you that I shall think of him no more. That I have thought of him, I do
+      not deny&mdash;I have thought, that if, notwithstanding the difference in
+      our ages and other differences, he had preferred me, I should have
+      preferred him to any person who has ever yet addressed me. On our first
+      acquaintance, I clearly saw that he was not disposed to pay court to my
+      fortune; and I had also then coolness of judgment sufficient to perceive
+      that it was not probable he should fall in love with my person. But I was
+      too proud in my humility, too strong in my honesty, too brave, too
+      ignorant; in short, I knew nothing of the matter. We are all of us, more
+      or less, subject to the delusions of vanity, or hope, or love&mdash;I&mdash;even
+      I!&mdash;who thought myself so clear-sighted, did not know how, with one
+      flutter of his wings, Cupid can set the whole atmosphere in motion; change
+      the proportions, size, colour, value, of every object; lead us into a <i>mirage</i>,
+      and leave us in a dismal desert.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dearest friend!&rdquo; said Miss Nugent in a tone of true sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But none but a coward or a fool would sit down in the desert and weep,
+      instead of trying to make his way back before the storm rises, obliterates
+      the track, and overwhelms every thing. Poetry apart, my dear Grace, you
+      may be assured that I shall think no more of Lord Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you are right. But I am sorry, very sorry, it must be so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, spare me your sorrow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sorrow is for Lord Colambre,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent. &ldquo;Where will he find
+      such a wife?&mdash;Not in Miss Berryl, I am sure, pretty as she is; a mere
+      fine lady!&mdash;Is it possible that Lord Colambre should prefer such a
+      girl&mdash;Lord Colambre!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Broadhurst looked at her friend as she spoke, and saw truth in her
+      eyes; saw that she had no suspicion that she was herself the person
+      beloved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me, Grace, are you sorry that Lord Colambre is going away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I am glad. I was sorry when I first heard it; but now I am glad, very
+      glad: it may save him from a marriage unworthy of him, restore him to
+      himself, and reserve him for&mdash;, the only woman I ever saw who is
+      suited to him, who is equal to him, who would value and love him as he
+      deserves to be valued and loved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop, my dear; if you mean me, I am not, and I never can be, that woman.
+      Therefore, as you are my friend, and wish my happiness, as I sincerely
+      believe you do, never, I conjure you, present such an idea before my mind
+      again&mdash;it is out of my mind, I hope, for ever. It is important to me
+      that you should know and believe this. At least I will preserve my
+      friends. Now let this subject never be mentioned or alluded to again
+      between us, my dear. We have subjects enough of conversation; we need not
+      have recourse to pernicious sentimental gossipings. There is great
+      difference between wanting <i>a confidante</i>, and treating a friend with
+      confidence. My confidence you possess; all that ought, all that is to be
+      known of my mind, you know, and&mdash;Now I will leave you in peace to
+      dress for the concert.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t go! you don&rsquo;t interrupt me. I shall be dressed in a few
+      minutes; stay with me, and you may be assured, that neither now, nor at
+      any other time, shall I ever speak to you on the subject you desire me to
+      avoid. I entirely agree with you about <i>confidantes</i> and sentimental
+      gossipings: I love you for not loving them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A loud knock at the door announced the arrival of company.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think no more of love, but as much as you please of admiration&mdash;dress
+      yourself as fast as you can,&rdquo; said Miss Broadhurst. &ldquo;Dress, dress, is the
+      order of the day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Order of the day and order of the night, and all for people I don&rsquo;t care
+      for in the least,&rdquo; said Grace. &ldquo;So life passes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me, Miss Nugent,&rdquo; cried Petito, Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s woman, coming in
+      with a face of alarm, &ldquo;not dressed yet! My lady is gone down, and Mrs.
+      Broadhurst and my Lady Pococke&rsquo;s come, and the Honourable Mrs. Trembleham;
+      and signor, the Italian singing gentleman, has been walking up and down
+      the apartments there by himself, disconsolate, this half hour. Oh,
+      merciful! Miss Nugent, if you could stand still for one single particle of
+      a second. So then I thought of stepping in to Miss Nugent; for the young
+      ladies are talking so fast, says I to myself, at the door, they will never
+      know how time goes, unless I give &lsquo;em a hint. But now my lady is below,
+      there&rsquo;s no need, to be sure, to be nervous, so we may take the thing
+      quietly, without being in a flustrum. Dear ladies, is not this now a very
+      sudden motion of our young lord&rsquo;s for Ireland? Lud a mercy! Miss Nugent,
+      I&rsquo;m sure your motions is sudden enough; and your dress behind is all, I&rsquo;m
+      sure, I can&rsquo;t tell how.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, never mind,&rdquo; said the young lady, escaping from her; &ldquo;it will do very
+      well, thank you, Petito.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will do very well, never mind,&rdquo; repeated Petito, muttering to herself,
+      as she looked after the ladies, whilst they ran down stairs. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t
+      abide to dress any young lady who says never mind, and it will do very
+      well. That, and her never talking to one confi<i>dan</i>tially, or
+      trusting one with the least bit of her secrets, is the thing I can&rsquo;t put
+      up with from Miss Nugent; and Miss Broadhurst holding the pins to me, as
+      much as to say, do your business, Petito, and don&rsquo;t talk.&mdash;Now,
+      that&rsquo;s so impertinent, as if one wasn&rsquo;t the same flesh and blood, and had
+      not as good a right to talk of every thing, and hear of every thing, as
+      themselves. And Mrs. Broadhurst, too, cabinet-councilling with my lady,
+      and pursing up her city mouth, when I come in, and turning off the
+      discourse to snuff, forsooth; as if I was an ignoramus, to think they
+      closeted themselves to talk of snuff. Now, I think a lady of quality&rsquo;s
+      woman has as good a right to be trusted with her lady&rsquo;s secrets as with
+      her jewels; and if my Lady Clonbrony was a real lady of quality, she&rsquo;d
+      know that, and consider the one as much my paraphernalia as the other. So
+      I shall tell my lady to-night, as I always do when she vexes me, that I
+      never lived in an Irish family before, and don&rsquo;t know the ways of it&mdash;then
+      she&rsquo;ll tell me she was born in Hoxfordshire&mdash;then I shall say, with
+      my saucy look, &lsquo;Oh, was you, my lady&mdash;I always forget that you was an
+      Englishwoman:&rsquo; then may be she&rsquo;ll say, &lsquo;Forget! you forget yourself
+      strangely, Petito.&rsquo; Then I shall say, with a great deal of dignity, &lsquo;If
+      your ladyship thinks so, my lady, I&rsquo;d better go.&rsquo; And I&rsquo;d desire no better
+      than that she would take me at my word; for my Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s is a much
+      better place, I&rsquo;m told, and she&rsquo;s dying to have me, I know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And having formed this resolution, Petito concluded her apparently
+      interminable soliloquy, and went with my lord&rsquo;s gentleman into the
+      antechamber, to hear the concert, and give her judgment on every thing: as
+      she peeped in through the vista of heads into the Apollo saloon&mdash;for
+      to-night the Alhambra was transformed into the Apollo saloon&mdash;she saw
+      that whilst the company, rank behind rank, in close semicircles, had
+      crowded round the performers to hear a favourite singer, Miss Broadhurst
+      and Lord Colambre were standing in the outer semicircle, talking to one
+      another earnestly. Now would Petito have given up her reversionary chance
+      of the three nearly new gowns she expected from Lady Clonbrony, in case
+      she stayed; or, in case she went, the reversionary chance of any dress of
+      Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s, except her scarlet velvet, merely to hear what Miss
+      Broadhurst and Lord Colambre were saying. Alas! she could only see their
+      lips move; and of what they were talking, whether of music or love, and
+      whether the match was to be on or off, she could only conjecture. But the
+      diplomatic style having now descended to waiting-maids, Mrs. Petito talked
+      to her friends in the antechamber with as mysterious and consequential an
+      air and tone as a chargé d&rsquo;affaires, or as the lady of a chargé
+      d&rsquo;affaires, could have assumed. She spoke of her <i>private belief</i>; of
+      <i>the impression left upon her mind</i>; and her <i>confidential</i>
+      reasons for thinking as she did; of her &ldquo;having had it from the <i>fountain&rsquo;s</i>
+      head;&rdquo; and of &ldquo;her fear of any <i>committal</i> of her authorities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Notwithstanding all these authorities, Lord Colambre left London next day,
+      and pursued his way to Ireland, determined that he would see and judge of
+      that country for himself, and decide whether his mother&rsquo;s dislike to
+      residing there was founded on caprice or on reasonable causes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, it was reported in London that his lordship was gone to
+      Ireland to make out the title to some estate, which would be necessary for
+      his marriage settlement with the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst. Whether
+      Mrs. Petito or Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay had the greater share in raising and
+      spreading this report, it would be difficult to determine; but it is
+      certain, however or by whomsoever raised, it was most useful to Lord
+      Clonbrony, by keeping his creditors quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The tide did not permit the packet to reach the Pigeon-house, and the
+      impatient Lord Colambre stepped into a boat, and was rowed across the Bay
+      of Dublin. It was a fine summer morning. The sun shone bright on the
+      Wicklow mountains. He admired, he exulted in the beauty of the prospect;
+      and all the early associations of his childhood, and the patriotic hopes
+      of his riper years, swelled his heart as he approached the shores of his
+      native land. But scarcely had he touched his mother earth, when the whole
+      course of his ideas was changed; and if his heart swelled, it swelled no
+      more with pleasurable sensations, for instantly he found himself
+      surrounded and attacked by a swarm of beggars and harpies, with strange
+      figures and stranger tones; some craving his charity, some snatching away
+      his luggage, and at the same time bidding him &ldquo;never trouble himself,&rdquo; and
+      &ldquo;never fear.&rdquo; A scramble in the boat and on shore for bags and parcels
+      began, and an amphibious fight betwixt men, who had one foot on sea and
+      one on land, was seen; and long and loud the battle of trunks and
+      portmanteaus raged! The vanquished departed, clinching their empty hands
+      at their opponents, and swearing inextinguishable hatred; while the
+      smiling victors stood at ease, each grasping his booty&mdash;bag, basket,
+      parcel, or portmanteau: &ldquo;And, your honour, where <i>will</i> these go?&mdash;Where
+      <i>will</i> we carry &lsquo;em all to for your honour?&rdquo; was now the question.
+      Without waiting for an answer, most of the goods were carried at the
+      discretion of the porters to the custom-house, where, to his lordship&rsquo;s
+      astonishment, after this scene of confusion, he found that he had lost
+      nothing but his patience; all his goods were safe, and a few <i>tinpennies</i>
+      made his officious porters happy men and boys; blessings were showered
+      upon his honour, and he was left in peace at an excellent hotel, in
+      &mdash;&mdash; street, Dublin. He rested, refreshed himself, recovered his
+      good-humour, and walked into the coffee-house, where he found several
+      officers, English, Irish, and Scotch. One English officer, a very
+      gentlemanlike, sensible-looking man, of middle age, was sitting reading a
+      little pamphlet, when Lord Colambre entered: he looked up from time to
+      time, and in a few minutes rose and joined the conversation; it turned
+      upon the beauties and defects of the city of Dublin. Sir James Brooke (for
+      that was the name of the gentleman) showed one of his brother officers the
+      book which he had been reading, observing that, in his opinion, it
+      contained one of the best views of Dublin which he had ever seen,
+      evidently drawn by the hand of a master, though in a slight, playful, and
+      ironical style: it was &ldquo;An intercepted Letter from China.&rdquo; The
+      conversation extended from Dublin to various parts of Ireland, with all
+      which Sir James Brooke showed that he was well acquainted. Observing that
+      this conversation was particularly interesting to Lord Colambre, and
+      quickly perceiving that he was speaking to one not ignorant of books, Sir
+      James spoke of different representations and misrepresentations of
+      Ireland. In answer to Lord Colambre&rsquo;s inquiries, he named the works which
+      had afforded him the most satisfaction; and with discriminative, not
+      superficial celerity, touched on all ancient and modern authors on this
+      subject, from Spenser and Davies to Young and Beaufort. Lord Colambre
+      became anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a gentleman who appeared
+      so able and willing to afford him information. Sir James Brooke, on his
+      part, was flattered by this eagerness of attention, and pleased by our
+      hero&rsquo;s manners and conversation: so that, to their mutual satisfaction,
+      they spent much of their time together whilst they were at this hotel; and
+      meeting frequently in society in Dublin, their acquaintance every day
+      increased and grew into intimacy; an intimacy which was highly
+      advantageous to Lord Colambre&rsquo;s views of obtaining a just idea of the
+      state of manners in Ireland. Sir James Brooke had at different periods
+      been quartered in various parts of the country&mdash;had resided long
+      enough in each to become familiar with the people, and had varied his
+      residence sufficiently to form comparisons between different counties,
+      their habits, and characteristics. Hence he had it in his power to direct
+      the attention of our young observer at once to the points most worthy of
+      his examination, and to save him from the common error of travellers&mdash;the
+      deducing general conclusions from a few particular cases, or arguing from
+      exceptions, as if they were rules. Lord Colambre, from his family
+      connexions, had of course immediate introduction into the best society in
+      Dublin, or rather into all the good society of Dublin. In Dublin there is
+      positively good company, and positively bad; but not, as in London, many
+      degrees of comparison: not innumerable luminaries of the polite world,
+      moving in different orbits of fashion; but all the bright planets of note
+      and name move and revolve in the same narrow limits. Lord Colambre did not
+      find that either his father&rsquo;s or his mother&rsquo;s representations of society
+      resembled the reality which he now beheld. Lady Clonbrony had, in terms of
+      detestation, described Dublin such as it appeared to her soon after the
+      Union; Lord Clonbrony had painted it with convivial enthusiasm, such as he
+      saw it long and long before the Union, when <i>first</i> he drank claret
+      at the fashionable clubs. This picture, unchanged in his memory, and
+      unchangeable by his imagination, had remained, and ever would remain, the
+      same. The hospitality of which the father boasted, the son found in all
+      its warmth, but meliorated and refined; less convivial, more social; the
+      fashion of hospitality had improved. To make the stranger eat or drink to
+      excess, to set before him old wine and old plate, was no longer the sum of
+      good breeding. The guest now escaped the pomp of grand entertainments; was
+      allowed to enjoy ease and conversation, and to taste some of that feast of
+      reason and that flow of soul so often talked of, and so seldom enjoyed.
+      Lord Colambre found a spirit of improvement, a desire for knowledge, and a
+      taste for science and literature, in most companies, particularly among
+      gentlemen belonging to the Irish bar: nor did he in Dublin society see any
+      of that confusion of ranks or predominance of vulgarity, of which his
+      mother had complained. Lady Clonbrony had assured him, that, the last time
+      she had been at the drawing-room at the Castle, a lady, whom she
+      afterwards found to be a grocer&rsquo;s wife, had turned angrily when her
+      ladyship had accidentally trodden on her train, and had exclaimed with a
+      strong brogue, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll thank you, ma&rsquo;am, for the rest of my tail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir James Brooke, to whom Lord Colambre, without <i>giving up his
+      authority</i>, mentioned the fact, declared that he had no doubt the thing
+      had happened precisely as it was stated; but that this was one of the
+      extraordinary cases which ought not to pass into a general rule,&mdash;that
+      it was a slight instance of that influence of temporary causes, from which
+      no conclusions, as to national manners, should be drawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I happened,&rdquo; continued Sir James, &ldquo;to be quartered in Dublin soon after
+      the Union took place; and I remember the great but transient change that
+      appeared from the removal of both houses of parliament: most of the
+      nobility and many of the principal families among the Irish commoners,
+      either hurried in high hopes to London, or retired disgusted and in
+      despair to their houses in the country. Immediately, in Dublin, commerce
+      rose into the vacated seats of rank; wealth rose into the place of birth.
+      New faces and new equipages appeared: people, who had never been heard of
+      before, started into notice, pushed themselves forward, not scrupling to
+      elbow their way even at the castle; and they were presented to my
+      lord-lieutenant and to my lady-lieutenant; for their excellencies might
+      have played their vice-regal parts to empty benches, had they not admitted
+      such persons for the moment to fill their court. Those of former times, of
+      hereditary pretensions and high-bred minds and manners, were scandalized
+      at all this; and they complained with justice, that the whole <i>tone</i>
+      of society was altered; that the decorum, elegance, polish, and charm of
+      society was gone. And I, among the rest,&rdquo; said Sir James, &ldquo;felt and
+      deplored their change. But, now it&rsquo;s all over, we may acknowledge, that,
+      perhaps, even those things which we felt most disagreeable at the time
+      were productive of eventual benefit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Formerly, a few families had set the fashion. From time immemorial every
+      thing had, in Dublin, been submitted to their hereditary authority; and
+      conversation, though it had been rendered polite by their example, was, at
+      the same time, limited within narrow bounds. Young people, educated upon a
+      more enlarged plan, in time grew up; and, no authority or fashion
+      forbidding it, necessarily rose to their just place, and enjoyed their due
+      influence in society. The want of manners, joined to the want of
+      knowledge, in the <i>nouveaux riches</i>, created universal disgust: they
+      were compelled, some by ridicule, some by bankruptcies, to fall back into
+      their former places, from which they could never more emerge. In the mean
+      time, some of the Irish nobility and gentry, who had been living at an
+      unusual expense in London&mdash;an expense beyond their incomes&mdash;were
+      glad to return home to refit; and they brought with them a new stock of
+      ideas, and some taste for science and literature, which, within these
+      latter years, have become fashionable, indeed indispensable, in London.
+      That part of the Irish aristocracy, who, immediately upon the first
+      incursions of the vulgarians, had fled in despair to their fastnesses in
+      the country, hearing of the improvements which had gradually taken place
+      in society, and assured of the final expulsion of the barbarians, ventured
+      from their retreats, and returned to their posts in town. So that now,&rdquo;
+       concluded Sir James, &ldquo;you find a society in Dublin composed of a most
+      agreeable and salutary mixture of birth and education, gentility and
+      knowledge, manner and matter; and you see, pervading the whole, new life
+      and energy, new talent, new ambition, a desire and a determination to
+      improve and be improved&mdash;a perception that higher distinction can now
+      be obtained in almost all company, by genius and merit, than by airs and
+      address.... So much for the higher order. Now, among the class of
+      tradesmen and shopkeepers, you may amuse yourself, my lord, with marking
+      the difference between them and persons of the same rank in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre had several commissions to execute for his English friends,
+      and he made it his amusement in every shop to observe the manners and
+      habits of the people. He remarked that there are in Dublin two classes of
+      tradespeople: one, who go into business with intent to make it their
+      occupation for life, and as a slow but sure means of providing for
+      themselves and their families; another class, who take up trade merely as
+      a temporary resource, to which they condescend for a few years; trusting
+      that they shall, in that time, make a fortune, retire, and commence or
+      re-commence gentlemen. The Irish regular men of business are like all
+      other men of business&mdash;punctual, frugal, careful, and so forth; with
+      the addition of more intelligence, invention, and enterprise, than are
+      usually found in Englishmen of the same rank. But the Dublin tradesmen <i>pro
+      tempore</i> are a class by themselves: they begin without capital, buy
+      stock upon credit, in hopes of making large profits, and, in the same
+      hopes, sell upon credit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now, if the credit they can obtain is longer than that which they are
+      forced to give, they go on and prosper; if not, they break, become
+      bankrupts, and sometimes, as bankrupts, thrive. By such men, of course,
+      every <i>short cut</i> to fortune is followed: whilst every habit, which
+      requires time to prove its advantage, is disregarded; nor, with such
+      views, can a character for <i>punctuality</i> have its just value. In the
+      head of a man, who intends to be a tradesman to-day, and a gentleman
+      to-morrow, the ideas of the honesty and the duties of a tradesman, and of
+      the honour and the accomplishments of a gentleman, are oddly jumbled
+      together, and the characteristics of both are lost in the compound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He will <i>oblige</i> you, but he will not obey you; he will do you a
+      favour, but he will not do you <i>justice</i>; he will do <i>anything to
+      serve you</i>, but the particular thing you order he neglects; he asks
+      your pardon, for he would not, for all the goods in his warehouse, <i>disoblige</i>
+      you; not for the sake of your custom, but he has a particular regard for
+      your family. Economy, in the eyes of such a tradesman, is, if not a mean
+      vice, at least a shabby virtue, of which he is too polite to suspect his
+      customers, and to which he is proud of proving himself superior. Many
+      London tradesmen, after making their thousands and their tens of
+      thousands, feel pride in still continuing to live like plain men of
+      business; but from the moment a Dublin tradesman of this style has made a
+      few hundreds, he sets up his gig, and then his head is in his carriage,
+      and not in his business; and when he has made a few thousands, he buys or
+      builds a country house&mdash;and, then, and thenceforward, his head,
+      heart, and soul, are in his country-house, and only his body in the shop
+      with his customers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst he is making money, his wife, or rather his lady, is spending twice
+      as much out of town as he makes in it. At the word country-house, let no
+      one figure to himself a snug little box like that in which a <i>warm</i>
+      London citizen, after long years of toil, indulges himself, one day out of
+      seven, in repose&mdash;enjoying, from his gazabo, the smell of the dust,
+      and the view of passing coaches on the London road: no, these Hibernian
+      villas are on a much more magnificent scale; some of them formerly
+      belonged to Irish members of parliament, who were at a distance from their
+      country-seats. After the Union these were bought by citizens and
+      tradesmen, who spoiled, by the mixture of their own fancies, what had
+      originally been designed by men of good taste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time after Lord Colambre&rsquo;s arrival in Dublin, he had an opportunity
+      of seeing one of these villas, which belonged to Mrs. Raffarty, a grocer&rsquo;s
+      lady, and sister to one of Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s agents, Mr. Nicholas
+      Garraghty. Lord Colambre was surprised to find that his father&rsquo;s agent
+      resided in Dublin: he had been used to see agents, or stewards, as they
+      are called in England, live in the country, and usually on the estate of
+      which they have the management. Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, however, had a
+      handsome house in a fashionable part of Dublin. Lord Colambre called
+      several times to see him, but he was out of town, receiving rents for some
+      other gentlemen, as he was agent for more than one property.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Though our hero had not the honour of seeing Mr. Garraghty, he had the
+      pleasure of finding Mrs. Raffarty one day at her brother&rsquo;s house. Just as
+      his lordship came to the door, she was going, on her jaunting-car, to her
+      villa, called Tusculum, situate near Bray. She spoke much of the beauties
+      of the vicinity of Dublin; found his lordship was going with Sir James
+      Brooke, and a party of gentlemen, to see the county of Wicklow; and his
+      lordship and party were entreated to do her the honour of taking in their
+      way a little collation at Tusculum.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our hero was glad to have an opportunity of seeing more of a species of
+      fine lady with which he was unacquainted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The invitation was verbally made, and verbally accepted; but the lady
+      afterwards thought it necessary to send a written invitation in due form,
+      and the note she sent directed to the <i>Most Right Honourable</i> the
+      Lord Viscount Colambre. On opening it he perceived that it could not have
+      been intended for him. It ran as follows:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;MY DEAR JULIANA O&rsquo;LEARY,
+
+    &ldquo;I have got a promise from Colambre, that he will be with us
+    at Tusculum on Friday, the 20th, in his way from the county of
+    Wicklow, for the collation I mentioned; and expect a large party
+    of officers: so pray come early, with your house, or as many as
+    the jaunting-car can bring. And pray, my dear, be <i>elegant</i>. You
+    need not let it transpire to Mrs. O&rsquo;G&mdash;&mdash;; but make my apologies
+    to Miss O&rsquo;G&mdash;&mdash;, if she says any thing, and tell her I&rsquo;m quite
+    concerned I can&rsquo;t ask her for that day; because, tell her, I&rsquo;m so
+    crowded, and am to have none that day but <i>real quality</i>.
+
+    &ldquo;Yours ever and ever,
+
+    &ldquo;ANASTASIA RAFFARTY.
+
+    &ldquo;P.S. And I hope to make the gentlemen stop the night with me: so
+    will not have beds. Excuse haste and compliments, &amp;c.
+
+    &ldquo;<i>Tusculum, Sunday 15.</i>&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      After a charming tour in the county of Wicklow, where the beauty of the
+      natural scenery, and the taste with which those natural beauties had been
+      cultivated, far surpassed the sanguine expectations Lord Colambre had
+      formed, his lordship and his companions arrived at Tusculum, where he
+      found Mrs. Raffarty, and Miss Juliana O&rsquo;Leary, very elegant, with a large
+      party of the ladies and gentlemen of Bray, assembled in a drawing-room,
+      fine with bad pictures and gaudy gilding; the windows were all shut, and
+      the company were playing cards with all their might. This was the fashion
+      of the neighbourhood. In compliment to Lord Colambre and the officers, the
+      ladies left the card-tables; and Mrs. Raffarty, observing that his
+      lordship seemed <i>partial</i> to walking, took him out, as she said, &ldquo;to
+      do the honours of nature and art.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship was much amused by the mixture, which was now exhibited to
+      him, of taste and incongruity, ingenuity and absurdity, genius and
+      blunder; by the contrast between the finery and vulgarity, the affectation
+      and ignorance, of the lady of the villa. We should be obliged to <i>stop</i>
+      too long at Tusculum were we to attempt to detail all the odd
+      circumstances of this visit; but we may record an example or two, which
+      may give a sufficient idea of the whole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the first place, before they left the drawing-room, Miss Juliana
+      O&rsquo;Leary pointed out to his lordship&rsquo;s attention a picture over the
+      drawing-room chimney-piece. &ldquo;Is not it a fine piece, my lord?&rdquo; said she,
+      naming the price Mrs. Raffarty had lately paid for it at an auction. &ldquo;It
+      has a right to be a fine piece, indeed; for it cost a fine price!&rdquo;
+       Nevertheless this <i>fine</i> piece was a vile daub; and our hero could
+      only avoid the sin of flattery, or the danger of offending the lady, by
+      protesting that he had no judgment in pictures.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! I don&rsquo;t pretend to be a connoisseur or conoscenti myself; but I&rsquo;m
+      told the style is undeniably modern. And was not I lucky, Juliana, not to
+      let that <i>Medona</i> be knocked down to me? I was just going to bid,
+      when I heard such smart bidding; but, fortunately, the auctioneer let out
+      that it was done by a very old master&mdash;a hundred years old. Oh! your
+      most obedient, thinks I!&mdash;if that&rsquo;s the case, it&rsquo;s not for my money:
+      so I bought this, in lieu of the smoke-dried thing, and had it a bargain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In architecture, Mrs. Raffarty had as good a taste and as much skill as in
+      painting. There had been a handsome portico in front of the house: but
+      this interfering with the lady&rsquo;s desire to have a viranda, which she said
+      could not he dispensed with, she had raised the whole portico to the
+      second story, where it stood, or seemed to stand, upon a tarpaulin roof.
+      But Mrs. Raffarty explained, that the pillars, though they looked so
+      properly substantial, were really hollow and as light as feathers, and
+      were supported with cramps, without <i>disobliging</i> the front wall of
+      the house at all to signify.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before she showed the company any farther, she said, she must premise to
+      his lordship, that she had been originally stinted in room for her
+      improvements, so that she could not follow her genius liberally; she had
+      been reduced to have some things on a confined scale, and occasionally to
+      consult her pocket-compass; but she prided herself upon having put as much
+      into a tight pattern as could well be; that had been her whole ambition,
+      study, and problem; for she was determined to have at least the honour of
+      having a little <i>taste</i> of every thing at Tusculum.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So she led the way to a little conservatory, and a little pinery, and a
+      little grapery, and a little aviary, and a little pheasantry, and a little
+      dairy for show, and a little cottage for ditto, with a grotto full of
+      shells, and a little hermitage full of earwigs, and a little ruin full of
+      looking-glass, &ldquo;to enlarge and multiply the effect of the Gothic.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;But
+      you could only put your head in, because it was just fresh painted, and
+      though there had been a fire ordered in the ruin all night, it had only
+      smoked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In all Mrs. Raffarty&rsquo;s buildings, whether ancient or modern, there was a
+      studied crookedness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes, she said, she hated every thing straight, it was so formal and <i>unpicturesque</i>.
+      &ldquo;Uniformity and conformity,&rdquo; she observed, &ldquo;had their day; but now, thank
+      the stars of the present day, irregularity and deformity bear the bell,
+      and have the majority.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As they proceeded and walked through the grounds, from which Mrs.
+      Raffarty, though she had done her best, could not take that which nature
+      had given, she pointed out to my lord &ldquo;a happy moving termination,&rdquo;
+       consisting of a Chinese bridge, with a fisherman leaning over the rails.
+      On a sudden, the fisherman was seen to tumble over the bridge into the
+      water. The gentlemen ran to extricate the poor fellow, while they heard
+      Mrs. Raffarty bawling to his lordship to beg he would never mind, and not
+      trouble himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they arrived at the bridge, they saw the man hanging from part of the
+      bridge, and apparently struggling in the water; but when they attempted to
+      pull him up, they found it was only a stuffed figure, which had been
+      pulled into the stream by a real fish, which had seized hold of the bait.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Raffarty, vexed by the fisherman&rsquo;s fall, and by the laughter it
+      occasioned, did not recover herself sufficiently to be happily ridiculous
+      during the remainder of the walk, nor till dinner was announced, when she
+      apologized for having changed the collation, at first intended, into a
+      dinner, which she hoped would be found no bad substitute, and which she
+      flattered herself might prevail on my lord and the gentlemen to sleep, as
+      there was no moon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dinner had two great faults&mdash;profusion and pretension. There was,
+      in fact, ten times more on the table than was necessary; and the
+      entertainment was far above the circumstances of the person by whom it was
+      given: for instance, the dish of fish at the head of the table had been
+      brought across the island from Sligo, and had cost five guineas; as the
+      lady of the house failed not to make known. But, after all, things were
+      not of a piece; there was a disparity between the entertainment and the
+      attendants; there was no proportion or fitness of things; a painful
+      endeavour at what could not be attained, and a toiling in vain to conceal
+      and repair deficiencies and blunders. Had the mistress of the house been
+      quiet; had she, as Mrs. Broadhurst would say, but let things alone, let
+      things take their course, all would have passed off with well-bred people;
+      but she was incessantly apologizing, and fussing, and fretting inwardly
+      and outwardly, and directing and calling to her servants&mdash;striving to
+      make a butler who was deaf, and a boy who was harebrained, do the business
+      of five accomplished footmen of <i>parts and figure</i>. The mistress of
+      the house called for &ldquo;plates, clean plates!&mdash;plates!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;But none did come, when she did call.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Raffarty called &ldquo;Lanty! Lanty! My lord&rsquo;s plate, there!&mdash;James!
+      bread to Captain Bowles!&mdash;James! port wine to the major!&mdash;James!
+      James Kenny! James!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;And panting <i>James</i> toiled after her in vain.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      At length one course was fairly got through, and after a torturing half
+      hour, the second course appeared, and James Kenny was intent upon one
+      thing, and Lanty upon another, so that the wine-sauce for the hare was
+      spilt by their collision; but, what was worse, there seemed little chance
+      that the whole of this second course should ever be placed altogether
+      rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her throat, and nodded, and
+      pointed, and sighed, and sent Lanty after Kenny, and Kenny after Lanty;
+      for what one did, the other undid; and at last the lady&rsquo;s anger kindled,
+      and she spoke: &ldquo;Kenny! James Kenny! set the sea-cale at this corner, and
+      put down the grass cross-corners; and match your maccaroni yonder with <i>them</i>
+      puddens, set&mdash;Ogh! James! the pyramid in the middle, can&rsquo;t ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pyramid, in changing places, was overturned. Then it was that the
+      mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat, and lifting up her hands
+      and eyes in despair, ejaculated, &ldquo;Oh, James! James!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pyramid was raised by the assistance of the military engineers, and
+      stood trembling again on its base; but the lady&rsquo;s temper could not be so
+      easily restored to its equilibrium. She vented her ill humour on her
+      unfortunate husband, who happening not to hear her order to help my lord
+      to some hare, she exclaimed loud, that all the world might hear, &ldquo;Corny
+      Raffarty! Corny Raffarty! you&rsquo;re no more <i>gud</i> at the <i>fut</i> of
+      my table than a stick of celery!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The comedy of errors, which this day&rsquo;s visit exhibited, amused all the
+      spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he had smiled, sometimes sighed.&mdash;Similar
+      foibles and follies in persons of different rank, fortune, and manner,
+      appear to common observers so unlike that they laugh without scruples of
+      conscience in one case, at what in another ought to touch themselves most
+      nearly. It was the same desire to appear what they were not, the same vain
+      ambition to vie with superior rank and fortune, or fashion, which actuated
+      Lady Clonbrony and Mrs. Raffarty; and whilst this ridiculous grocer&rsquo;s wife
+      made herself the sport of some of her guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from
+      the reflection that what she was to them, his mother was to persons in a
+      higher rank of fashion.&mdash;He sighed still more deeply, when he
+      considered, that, in whatever station or with whatever fortune,
+      extravagance, that is, the living beyond our income, must lead to distress
+      and meanness, and end in shame and ruin. In the morning as they were
+      riding away from Tusculum and talking over their visit, the officers
+      laughed heartily, and rallying Lord Colambre upon his seriousness, accused
+      him of having fallen in love with Mrs. Raffarty, or with the <i>elegant</i>
+      Miss Juliana. Our hero, who wished never to be nice over much, or serious
+      out of season, laughed with those that laughed, and endeavoured to catch
+      the spirit of the jest. But Sir James Brooke, who now was well acquainted
+      with his countenance, and who knew something of the history of his family,
+      understood his real feelings, and, sympathizing in them, endeavoured to
+      give the conversation a new turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look there, Bowles,&rdquo; said he, as they were just riding into the town of
+      Bray; &ldquo;look at the barouche standing at that green door, at the farthest
+      end of the town. Is not that Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s barouche?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It looks like what she sported in Dublin last year,&rdquo; said Bowles; &ldquo;but
+      you don&rsquo;t think she&rsquo;d give us the same two seasons. Besides, she is not in
+      Ireland, is she? I did not hear of her intending to come over again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; said another officer; &ldquo;she will come again to so good
+      a market, to marry her other daughter. I hear she said or swore that she
+      will marry the young widow, Lady Isabel, to an Irish nobleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whatever she says, she swears, and whatever she swears, she&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo;
+       replied Bowles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart upon you for Lady
+      Isabel, she has you. Nothing can save you. Heart she has none, so there
+      you&rsquo;re safe, my lord,&rdquo; said the other officer; &ldquo;but if Lady Isabel sets
+      her eye upon you, no basilisk&rsquo;s is surer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if Lady Dashfort had landed I am sure we should have heard of it, for
+      she makes noise enough wherever she goes; especially in Dublin, where all
+      she said and did was echoed and magnified, till one could hear of nothing
+      else. I don&rsquo;t think she has landed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope to Heaven they may never land again in Ireland!&rdquo; cried Sir James
+      Brooke: &ldquo;one worthless woman, especially one worthless Englishwoman of
+      rank, does incalculable mischief in a country like this, which looks up to
+      the sister country for fashion. For my own part, as a warm friend to
+      Ireland, I would rather see all the toads and serpents, and venomous
+      reptiles, that St. Patrick carried off in his bag, come back to this
+      island, than these two <i>dashers</i>. Why, they would bite half the women
+      and girls in the kingdom with the rage for mischief, before half the
+      husbands and fathers could turn their heads about. And, once bit, there&rsquo;s
+      no cure in nature or art.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No horses to this barouche!&rdquo; cried Captain Bowles.&mdash;&ldquo;Pray, sir,
+      whose carriage is this?&rdquo; said the captain to a servant, who was standing
+      beside it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to,&rdquo; answered the servant, in rather a
+      surly English tone; and turning to a boy who was lounging at the door,
+      &ldquo;Pat, bid them bring out the horses, for my ladies is in a hurry to get
+      home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the girths of his horse,
+      and to satisfy his curiosity; and the whole party halted. Captain Bowles
+      beckoned to the landlord of the inn, who was standing at his door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, Lady Dashfort is here again?&mdash;This is her barouche, is not it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, she is&mdash;it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And has she sold her fine horses?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir&mdash;this is not her carriage at all&mdash;she is not here.
+      That is, she is here, in Ireland; but down in the county of Wicklow, on a
+      visit. And this is not her own carriage at all;&mdash;that is to say, not
+      that which she has with herself, driving; but only just the cast barouche
+      like, as she keeps for the lady&rsquo;s maids.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the lady&rsquo;s maids! that is good! that is new, faith! Sir James, do you
+      hear that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, then, and it&rsquo;s true, and not a word of a lie!&rdquo; said the honest
+      landlord. &ldquo;And this minute, we&rsquo;ve got a directory of five of them
+      Abigails, sitting within our house; as fine ladies, as great dashers too,
+      every bit, as their principals; and kicking up as much dust on the road,
+      every grain!&mdash;Think of them, now! The likes of them, that must have
+      four horses, and would not stir a foot with one less!&mdash;As the
+      gentleman&rsquo;s gentleman there was telling and boasting to me about now, when
+      the barouche was ordered for them there at the lady&rsquo;s house, where Lady
+      Dashfort is on a visit&mdash;they said they would not get in till they&rsquo;d
+      get four horses; and their ladies backed them; and so the four horses was
+      got; and they just drove out here to see the points of view for fashion&rsquo;s
+      sake, like their betters; and up with their glasses, like their ladies;
+      and then out with their watches, and &lsquo;Isn&rsquo;t it time to lunch?&rsquo; So there
+      they have been lunching within on what they brought with them; for nothing
+      in our house could they touch of course! They brought themselves a <i>pick-nick</i>
+      lunch, with Madeira and Champagne to wash it down. Why, gentlemen, what do
+      you think, but a set of them, as they were bragging to me, turned out of a
+      boarding-house at Cheltenham, last year, because they had not peach pies
+      to their lunch!&mdash;But, here they come! shawls, and veils, and all!&mdash;streamers
+      flying! But mum is my cue!&mdash;Captain, are these girths to your fancy
+      now?&rdquo; said the landlord, aloud: then, as he stooped to alter a buckle, he
+      said in a voice meant to be heard only by Captain Bowles, &ldquo;If there&rsquo;s a
+      tongue, male or female, in the three kingdoms, it&rsquo;s in that foremost
+      woman, Mrs. Petito.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Petito!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre, as the name caught his ear; and,
+      approaching the barouche, in which the five Abigails were now seated, he
+      saw the identical Mrs. Petito, who, when he left London, had been in his
+      mother&rsquo;s service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She recognized his lordship with very gracious intimacy; and, before he
+      had time to ask any questions, she answered all she conceived he was going
+      to ask, and with a volubility which justified the landlord&rsquo;s eulogium of
+      her tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my lord! I left my Lady Clonbrony some time back&mdash;the day after
+      you left town; and both her ladyship and Miss Nugent was charmingly, and
+      would have sent their loves to your lordship, I&rsquo;m sure, if they&rsquo;d any
+      notion I should have met you, my lord, so soon. And I was very sorry to
+      part with them; but the fact was, my lord,&rdquo; said Mrs. Petito, laying a
+      detaining hand upon Lord Colambre&rsquo;s whip, one end of which he unwittingly
+      trusted within her reach, &ldquo;I and my lady had a little difference, which
+      the best friends, you know, sometimes have: so my Lady Clonbrony was so
+      condescending to give me up to my Lady Dashfort&mdash;and I knew no more
+      than the child unborn that her ladyship had it in contemplation to cross
+      the seas. But, to oblige my lady, and as Colonel Heathcock, with his
+      regiment of militia, was coming for purtection in the packet at the same
+      time, and we to have the government-yacht, I waived my objections to
+      Ireland. And, indeed, though I was greatly frighted at first, having heard
+      all we&rsquo;ve heard, you know, my lord, from Lady Clonbrony, of there being no
+      living in Ireland, and expecting to see no trees, nor accommodation, nor
+      any thing but bogs all along; yet I declare, I was very agreeably
+      surprised; for, as far as I&rsquo;ve seen at Dublin and in the vicinity, the
+      accommodations, and every thing of that nature now, is vastly put-up-able
+      with!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord,&rdquo; said Sir James Brooke, &ldquo;we shall be late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, withdrawing his whip from Mrs. Petito, turned his horse
+      away. She, stretching over the back of the barouche as he rode off, bawled
+      to him, &ldquo;My lord, we&rsquo;re at Stephen&rsquo;s Green, when we&rsquo;re at Dublin.&rdquo; But as
+      he did not choose to hear, she raised her voice to its highest pitch,
+      adding, &ldquo;And where are you, my lord, to be found?&mdash;as I have a parcel
+      of Miss Nugent&rsquo;s for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his direction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cleverly done, faith!&rdquo; said the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not hear her say when Lady Dashfort is to be in town,&rdquo; said Captain
+      Bowles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your guineas to Lady
+      Dashfort, and to be jockeyed out of another horse by Lady Isabel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, confound it&mdash;no! I&rsquo;ll keep out of the way of that&mdash;I have
+      had enough,&rdquo; said Captain Bowles; &ldquo;it is my Lord Colambre&rsquo;s turn now; you
+      hear that Lady Dashfort would be very <i>proud</i> to see him. His
+      lordship is in for it, and with such an auxiliary as Mrs. Petito, Lady
+      Dashfort has him far Lady Isabel, as sure as he has a heart or hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre; &ldquo;and my hand shall go with my heart, or not at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman, no doubt,&rdquo; said Sir
+      James Brooke. &ldquo;I have an excellent opinion of your taste; and if you can
+      return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don&rsquo;t trust to your
+      heart&rsquo;s being engaged, much less plead that engagement; for it would be
+      Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s sport, and Lady Isabel&rsquo;s joy, to make you break your
+      engagement, and break your mistress&rsquo;s heart; the fairer, the more amiable,
+      the more beloved, the greater the triumph, the greater the delight in
+      giving pain. All the time love would be out of the question; neither
+      mother nor daughter would care if you were hanged, or, as Lady Dashfort
+      would herself have expressed it, if you were d&mdash;&mdash;d.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With such women I should think a man&rsquo;s heart could be in no great
+      danger,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you might be mistaken, my lord; there&rsquo;s a way to every man&rsquo;s heart,
+      which no man in his own case is aware of, but which every woman knows
+      right well, and none better than these ladies&mdash;by his vanity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; said Captain Bowles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre;
+      &ldquo;but love, I should imagine, is a stronger passion than vanity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord. Excuse me,&rdquo; said
+      Captain Bowles, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have nothing
+      to do with these dangerous ladies: indeed, though he had talked, he had
+      scarcely yet thought of them; for his imagination was intent upon that
+      packet from Miss Nugent, which Mrs. Petito said she had for him. He heard
+      nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent his servant every day to
+      Stephen&rsquo;s Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort had returned to town. Her
+      ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito could not deliver the parcel to
+      any hand but Lord Colambre&rsquo;s own, and she would not stir out, because her
+      lady was indisposed. No longer able to restrain his impatience, Lord
+      Colambre went himself&mdash;knocked at Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s door&mdash;inquired
+      for Mrs. Petito&mdash;was shown into her parlour. The parcel was delivered
+      to him; but, to his utter disappointment, it was a parcel <i>for</i>, not
+      <i>from</i> Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd volume of some book of
+      Miss Nugent&rsquo;s which Mrs. Petito said she had put up along with her things
+      <i>in a mistake</i>, and she thought it her duty to return it by the first
+      opportunity of a safe conveyance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was
+      fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent&rsquo;s name, written by her own hand, in the
+      first leaf of the book, the door opened, and the figure of an
+      interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning, appeared&mdash;appeared for
+      one moment, and retired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for him from
+      England, my lady&mdash;my Lady Isabel, my lord,&rdquo; said Mrs. Petito.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying this, the entrance and retreat had been
+      made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty: with such innocence,
+      dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and withdrawn; with such a
+      gracious bend the Lady Isabel had bowed to him as she retired; with such a
+      smile, and with so soft a voice, had repeated &ldquo;Lord Colambre!&rdquo; that his
+      lordship, though well aware that all this was mere acting, could not help
+      saying to himself, as he left the house, &ldquo;It is a pity it is only acting.
+      There is certainly something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she
+      is an actress. And so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow
+      before most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be such a fiend
+      as they described her to be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A few nights afterwards Lord Colambre was with some of his acquaintance at
+      the theatre, when Lady Isabel and her mother came into the box, where
+      seats had been reserved for them, and where their appearance instantly
+      made that <i>sensation</i>, which is usually created by the entrance of
+      persons of the first notoriety in the fashionable world. Lord Colambre was
+      not a man to be dazzled by fashion, or to mistake notoriety for deference
+      paid to merit, and for the admiration commanded by beauty or talents. Lady
+      Dashfort&rsquo;s coarse person, loud voice, daring manners, and indelicate wit,
+      disgusted him almost past endurance. He saw Sir James Brooke in the box
+      opposite to him; and twice determined to go round to him. His lordship had
+      crossed the benches, and once his hand was upon the lock of the door; but,
+      attracted as much by the daughter as repelled by the mother, he could move
+      no farther. The mother&rsquo;s masculine boldness heightened, by contrast, the
+      charms of the daughter&rsquo;s soft sentimentality. The Lady Isabel seemed to
+      shrink from the indelicacy of her mother&rsquo;s manners, and appeared
+      peculiarly distressed by the strange efforts Lady Dashfort made, from time
+      to time, to drag her forward, and to fix upon her the attention of
+      gentlemen. Colonel Heathcock, who, as Mrs. Petito had informed Lord
+      Colambre, had come over with his regiment to Ireland, was beckoned into
+      their box by Lady Dashfort, by her squeezed into a seat next to Lady
+      Isabel; but Lady Isabel seemed to feel sovereign contempt, properly
+      repressed by politeness, for what, in a low whisper to a female friend on
+      the other side of her, she called, &ldquo;the self-sufficient inanity of this
+      sad coxcomb.&rdquo; Other coxcombs, of a more vivacious style, who stationed
+      themselves round her mother, or to whom her mother stretched from box to
+      box to talk, seemed to engage no more of Lady Isabel&rsquo;s attention than just
+      what she was compelled to give by Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s repeated calls of,
+      &ldquo;Isabel! Isabel! Colonel G&mdash;&mdash;, Isabel! Lord D&mdash;&mdash;
+      bowing to you. Bell! Bell! Sir Harry B&mdash;&mdash;. Isabel, child, with
+      your eyes on the stage? Did you never see a play before? Novice! Major P&mdash;&mdash;
+      waiting to catch your eye this quarter of an hour; and now her eyes gone
+      down to her play-bill! Sir Harry, do take it from her.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;Were eyes so radiant only made to read?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Lady Isabel appeared to suffer so exquisitely and so naturally from this
+      persecution, that Lord Colambre said to himself, &ldquo;If this be acting, it is
+      the best acting I ever saw. If this be art, it deserves to be nature.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And with this sentiment, he did himself the honour of handing Lady Isabel
+      to her carriage this night, and with this sentiment he awoke next morning;
+      and by the time he had dressed and breakfasted, he determined that it was
+      impossible all that he had seen could be acting. &ldquo;No woman, no young
+      woman, could have such art.&rdquo; Sir James Brooke had been unwarrantably
+      severe; he would go and tell him so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Sir James Brooke this day received orders for his regiment to march to
+      quarters in a distant part of Ireland. His head was full of arms, and
+      ammunition, and knapsacks, and billets, and routes; and there was no
+      possibility, even in the present chivalrous disposition of our hero, to
+      enter upon the defence of the Lady Isabel. Indeed, in the regret he felt
+      for the approaching and unexpected departure of his friend, Lord Colambre
+      forgot the fair lady. But just when Sir James had his foot in the stirrup,
+      he stopped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By-the-bye, my dear lord, I saw you at the play last night. You seemed to
+      be much interested. Don&rsquo;t think me impertinent if I remind you of our
+      conversation when we were riding home from Tusculum; and if I warn you,&rdquo;
+       said he, mounting his horse, &ldquo;to beware of counterfeits&mdash;for such are
+      abroad.&rdquo; Reining in his impatient steed, Sir James turned again, and added
+      &ldquo;<i>Deeds, not words</i>, is my motto. Remember, we can judge better by
+      the conduct of people towards others than by their manner towards
+      ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Our hero was quite convinced of the good sense of his friend&rsquo;s last
+      remark, that it is safer to judge of people by their conduct to others
+      than by their manners towards ourselves; but as yet, he felt scarcely any
+      interest on the subject of Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s or Lady Isabel&rsquo;s characters:
+      however, he inquired and listened to all the evidence he could obtain
+      respecting this mother and daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He heard terrible reports of the mischief they had done in families; the
+      extravagance into which they had led men; the imprudence, to say no worse,
+      into which they had betrayed women. Matches broken off, reputations
+      ruined, husbands alienated from their wives, and wives made jealous of
+      their husbands. But in some of these stories he discovered exaggeration so
+      flagrant as to make him doubt the whole; in others, it could not be
+      positively determined whether the mother or daughter had been the person
+      most to blame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre always followed the charitable rule of believing only half
+      what the world says, and here he thought it fair to believe which half he
+      pleased. He farther observed, that, though all joined in abusing these
+      ladies in their absence, when present they seemed universally admired.
+      Though every body cried &ldquo;shame!&rdquo; and &ldquo;shocking!&rdquo; yet every body visited
+      them. No parties so crowded as Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s; no party deemed pleasant
+      or fashionable where Lady Dashfort or Lady Isabel was not. The bon-mots of
+      the mother were every where repeated; the dress and air of the daughter
+      every where imitated. Yet Lord Colambre could not help being surprised at
+      their popularity in Dublin, because, independently of all moral
+      objections, there were causes of a different sort, sufficient, he thought,
+      to prevent Lady Dashfort from being liked by the Irish, indeed by any
+      society. She in general affected to be ill-bred, and inattentive to the
+      feelings and opinions of others; careless whom she offended by her wit or
+      by her decided tone. There are some persons in so high a region of
+      fashion, that they imagine themselves above the thunder of vulgar censure.
+      Lady Dashfort felt herself in this exalted situation, and fancied she
+      might
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Hear the innocuous thunder roll below.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Her rank was so high that none could dare to call her vulgar: what would
+      have been gross in any one of meaner note, in her was freedom or
+      originality, or Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s way. It was Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s pleasure and
+      pride to show her power in perverting the public taste. She often said to
+      those English companions with whom she was intimate, &ldquo;Now see what follies
+      I can lead these fools into. Hear the nonsense I can make them repeat as
+      wit.&rdquo; Upon some occasion, one of her friends <i>ventured</i> to fear that
+      something she had said was <i>too strong</i>. &ldquo;Too strong, was it? Well, I
+      like to be strong&mdash;woe be to the weak!&rdquo; On another occasion she was
+      told that certain visitors had seen her ladyship yawning. &ldquo;Yawn, did I?&mdash;glad
+      of it&mdash;the yawn sent them away, or I should have snored;&mdash;rude,
+      was I? they won&rsquo;t complain. To say I was rude to them, would be to say,
+      that I did not think it worth my while to be otherwise. Barbarians! are
+      not we the civilized English, come to teach them manners and fashions?
+      Whoever does not conform, and swear allegiance too, we shall keep out of
+      the English pale.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Dashfort forced her way, and she set the fashion: fashion, which
+      converts the ugliest dress into what is beautiful and charming, governs
+      the public mode in morals and in manners; and thus, when great talents and
+      high rank combine, they can debase or elevate the public taste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With Lord Colambre she played more artfully: she drew him out in defence
+      of his beloved country, and gave him opportunities of appearing to
+      advantage; this he could not help feeling, especially when the Lady Isabel
+      was present. Lady Dashfort had dealt long enough with human nature to
+      know, that to make any man pleased with her, she should begin by making
+      him pleased with himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally felt to Lady
+      Dashfort wore off; her faults, he began to think, were assumed; he
+      pardoned her defiance of good-breeding, when he observed that she could,
+      when she chose it, be most engagingly polite. It was not that she did not
+      know what was right, but that she did not think it always for her interest
+      to practise it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her wit depended merely
+      on unexpectedness; a characteristic which may be applied to any
+      impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct. In some of her ladyship&rsquo;s
+      repartees, however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was more than
+      unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly unfit for
+      a woman, and he was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear it. In short,
+      exceptionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s conversation had
+      become entertaining to him; and though he could never esteem, or feel in
+      the least interested about her, he began to allow that she could be
+      agreeable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, I knew how it would be,&rdquo; said she, when some of her friends told her
+      this. &ldquo;He began by detesting me, and did I not tell you that, if I thought
+      it worth my while to make him like me, he must, sooner or later? I delight
+      in seeing people begin with me as they do with olives, making all manner
+      of horrid faces, and silly protestations that they will never touch an
+      olive again as long as they live; but, after a little time, these very
+      folk grow so desperately fond of olives, that there is no dessert without
+      them. Isabel, child, you are in the sweet line&mdash;but sweets cloy. You
+      never heard of any body living on marmalade, did ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well,&rdquo; pursued the
+      mother; &ldquo;but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up the
+      spirit and bustle, and carry on the plot of the piece, and I am that
+      somebody&mdash;as you shall see. Is not that our hero&rsquo;s voice which I hear
+      on the stairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Lord Colambre. His lordship had by this time become a constant
+      visitor at Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s. Not that he had forgotten, or that he meant to
+      disregard his friend Sir James Brooke&rsquo;s parting words. He promised himself
+      faithfully, that if any thing should occur to give him reason to suspect
+      designs, such as those to which the warning pointed, he would be on his
+      guard, and would prove his generalship by an able retreat. But to imagine
+      attacks where none were attempted, to suspect ambuscades in the open
+      country, would be ridiculous and cowardly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; thought our hero; &ldquo;Heaven forefend I should be such a coxcomb as to
+      fancy every woman who speaks to me has designs upon my precious heart, or
+      on my more precious estate!&rdquo; As he walked from his hotel to Lady
+      Dashfort&rsquo;s house, ingeniously wrong, he came to this conclusion, just as
+      he ascended the stairs, and just as her ladyship had settled her future
+      plan of operations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After talking over the nothings of the day, and after having given two or
+      three <i>cuts</i> at the society of Dublin, with two or three compliments
+      to individuals, who she knew were favourites with his lordship, she
+      suddenly turned to him. &ldquo;My lord, I think you told me, or my own sagacity
+      discovered, that you want to see something of Ireland, and that you don&rsquo;t
+      intend, like most travellers, to turn round, see nothing, and go home
+      content.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre assured her ladyship that she had judged him rightly, for
+      that nothing would content him but seeing all that was possible to be seen
+      of his native country. It was for this special purpose he came to Ireland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&mdash;well&mdash;very good purpose&mdash;can&rsquo;t be better; but now how
+      to accomplish it. You know the Portuguese proverb says, &lsquo;You go to hell
+      for the good things you <i>intend</i> to do, and to heaven for those you
+      do.&rsquo; Now let us see what you will do. Dublin, I suppose, you&rsquo;ve seen
+      enough of by this time; through and through&mdash;round and round&mdash;this
+      makes me first giddy, and then sick. Let me show you the country&mdash;not
+      the face of it, but the body of it&mdash;the people.&mdash;Not Castle
+      this, or Newtown that, but their inhabitants. I know them; I have the key,
+      or the pick-lock to their minds. An Irishman is as different an animal on
+      his guard and off his guard, as a miss in school from a miss out of
+      school. A fine country for game, I&rsquo;ll show you; and if you are a good
+      marksman, you may have plenty of shots &lsquo;at folly as it flies.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to Isabel,&rdquo; pursued her ladyship, &ldquo;I shall put her in charge of
+      Heathcock, who is going with us. She won&rsquo;t thank me for that, but you
+      will. Nay, no fibs, man; you know, I know, as who does not that has seen
+      the world? that, though a pretty woman is a mighty pretty thing, yet she
+      is confoundedly in one&rsquo;s way, when any thing else is to be seen, heard,&mdash;or
+      understood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Every objection anticipated and removed, and so far a prospect held out of
+      attaining all the information he desired, with more than all the amusement
+      he could have expected, Lord Colambre seemed much tempted to accept the
+      invitation; but he hesitated, because, as he said, her ladyship might be
+      going to pay visits where he was not acquainted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless you! don&rsquo;t let that be a stumbling-block in the way of your tender
+      conscience. I am going to Killpatricks-town, where you&rsquo;ll be as welcome as
+      light. You know them, they know you; at least you shall have a proper
+      letter of invitation from my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick, and all that.
+      And as to the rest, you know a young man is always welcome every where, a
+      young nobleman kindly welcome&mdash;I won&rsquo;t say such a young man, and such
+      a young nobleman, for that might put you to your bows or your blushes&mdash;but
+      <i>nobilitas</i> by itself, nobility is virtue enough in all parties, in
+      all families, where there are girls, and of course balls, as there are
+      always at Killpatricks-town. Don&rsquo;t be alarmed; you shall not be forced to
+      dance, or asked to marry. I&rsquo;ll be your security. You shall be at full
+      liberty; and it is a house where you can do just what you will. Indeed, I
+      go to no others. These Killpatricks are the best creatures in the world;
+      they think nothing good or grand enough for me. If I&rsquo;d let them, they
+      would lay down cloth of gold over their bogs for me to walk upon.
+      Good-hearted beings!&rdquo; added Lady Dashfort, marking a cloud gathering on
+      Lord Colambre&rsquo;s countenance. &ldquo;I laugh at them, because I love them. I
+      could not love any thing I might not laugh at&mdash;your lordship
+      excepted. So you&rsquo;ll come&mdash;that&rsquo;s settled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatricks-town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every thing here sumptuous and unfinished, you see,&rdquo; said Lady Dashfort
+      to Lord Colambre, the day after their arrival. &ldquo;All begun as if the
+      projectors thought they had the command of the mines of Peru, and ended as
+      if the possessors had not sixpence. Luxuries enough for an English prince
+      of the blood: comforts not enough for an English yeoman. And you may be
+      sure that great repairs and alterations have gone on to fit this house for
+      our reception, and for our English eyes!&mdash;Poor people!&mdash;English
+      visitors, in this point of view, are horribly expensive to the Irish. Did
+      you ever hear, that in the last century, or in the century before the
+      last, to put my story far enough back, so that it shall not touch any body
+      living; when a certain English nobleman, Lord Blank A&mdash;&mdash;, sent
+      to let his Irish friend, Lord Blank B&mdash;&mdash;, know that he and all
+      his train were coming over to pay him a visit; the Irish nobleman, Blank B&mdash;&mdash;,
+      knowing the deplorable condition of his castle, sat down fairly to
+      calculate whether it would cost him most to put the building in good and
+      sufficient repair, fit to receive these English visitors, or to burn it to
+      the ground. He found the balance to be in favour of burning, which was
+      wisely accomplished next day.<a href="#linknote-1" name="linknoteref-1"
+       id="linknoteref-1"><small>1</small></a> Perhaps Killpatrick would have
+      done well to follow this example. Resolve me which is worst, to be burnt
+      out of house and home, or to be eaten out of house and home. In this
+      house, above and below stairs, including first and second table,
+      housekeeper&rsquo;s room, lady&rsquo;s maids&rsquo; room, butler&rsquo;s room, and gentleman&rsquo;s,
+      one hundred and four people sit down to dinner every day, as Petito
+      informs me, besides kitchen boys, and what they call <i>char</i>-women,
+      who never sit down, but who do not eat or waste the less for that; and
+      retainers and friends, friends to the fifth and sixth generation, who
+      &lsquo;must get their bit and their sup;&rsquo; for &lsquo;sure, it&rsquo;s only Biddy,&rsquo; they
+      say;&rdquo; continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish brogue. &ldquo;And &lsquo;sure,
+      &lsquo;tis nothing at all, out of all his honour my lord has. How could he <i>feel</i>
+      it<a href="#linknote-2" name="linknoteref-2" id="linknoteref-2"><small>2</small></a>?&mdash;Long
+      life to him!&mdash;He&rsquo;s not that way: not a couple in all Ireland, and
+      that&rsquo;s saying a great dale, looks less after their own, nor is more
+      off-handeder, or open-hearteder, or greater openhouse-keeper, <i>nor</i><a
+      href="#linknote-3" name="linknoteref-3" id="linknoteref-3"><small>3</small></a>
+      my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick.&rsquo; Now there&rsquo;s encouragement for a lord and
+      a lady to ruin themselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted that &ldquo;she
+      was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had brogues for all
+      occasions.&rdquo; By her mixture of mimicry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and truth,
+      she succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at every thing at
+      which she wished to make him laugh; at every <i>thing</i>, but not at
+      every <i>body</i>: whenever she became personal, he became serious, or at
+      least endeavoured to become serious; and if he could not instantly resume
+      the command of his risible muscles, he reproached himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dashfort, in their
+      own house&mdash;these hospitable people, who are entertaining us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Entertaining us! true, and if we are <i>entertained</i>, how can we help
+      laughing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her pride to
+      make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings and principles.
+      This he saw, and this seemed to him to be her sole object; but there he
+      was mistaken. <i>Off-handed</i> as she pretended to be, none dealt more in
+      the <i>impromptu fait à loisir</i>; and, mentally short-sighted as she
+      affected to be, none had more <i>longanimity</i> for their own interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland ridiculous and
+      contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust him with his native country; to
+      make him abandon the wish of residing on his own estate. To confirm him an
+      absentee was her object, previously to her ultimate plan of marrying him
+      to her daughter. Her daughter was poor, she would therefore be glad to <i>get</i>
+      an Irish peer for her; but would be very sorry, she said, to see Isabel
+      banished to Ireland; and the young widow declared she could never bring
+      herself to be buried alive in Clonbrony Castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain hints
+      from Mrs. Petito, which worked all to the same point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that, when I was at
+      Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Petito, one day, as she was attending at her
+      lady&rsquo;s toilette, and encouraged to begin chattering. &ldquo;And I own I was
+      originally under the universal error that my Lord Colambre was to be
+      married to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been converted
+      and reformed on that score, and am at present quite in another way of
+      thinking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask what was her present way
+      of thinking? But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell her without
+      being asked, did not take the trouble to speak, particularly as she did
+      not choose to appear violently interested on the subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My present way of thinking,&rdquo; resumed Petito, &ldquo;is in consequence of my
+      having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his lordship&rsquo;s
+      behaviour and words, the morning he was coming away from <i>Lunnun</i> for
+      Ireland; when he was morally certain nobody was up, nor overhearing nor
+      overseeing him, there did I notice him, my lady, stopping in the
+      antechamber, ejaculating over one of Miss Nugent&rsquo;s gloves, which he had
+      picked up. &lsquo;Limerick!&rsquo; said he, quite loud enough to himself; for it was a
+      Limerick glove, my lady&mdash;&lsquo;Limerick!&mdash;dear Ireland! she loves you
+      as well as I do!&rsquo;&mdash;or words to that effect; and then a sigh, and down
+      stairs and off. So, thinks I, now the cat&rsquo;s out of the bag. And I wouldn&rsquo;t
+      give much myself for Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s chance of that young lord, with all
+      her Bank stock, scrip, and <i>omnum</i>. Now, I see how the land lies, and
+      I&rsquo;m sorry for it; for she&rsquo;s no <i>fortin</i>; and she&rsquo;s so proud, she
+      never said a hint to me of the matter: but my Lord Colambre is a sweet
+      gentleman; and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Petito! don&rsquo;t run on so; you must not meddle with what you don&rsquo;t
+      understand: the Miss Killpatricks, to be sure, are sweet girls,
+      particularly the youngest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her ladyship&rsquo;s toilette was finished; and she left Petito to go down to my
+      Lady Killpatrick&rsquo;s woman, to tell, as a very great secret, the schemes
+      that were in contemplation, among the higher powers, in favour of the
+      youngest of the Miss Killpatricks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Ireland is at the bottom of his heart, is it?&rdquo; repeated Lady Dashfort
+      to herself: &ldquo;it shall not be long so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From this time forward, not a day, scarcely an hour passed, but her
+      ladyship did or said something to depreciate the country, or its
+      inhabitants, in our hero&rsquo;s estimation. With treacherous ability, she knew
+      and followed all the arts of misrepresentation; all those injurious arts
+      which his friend, Sir James Brooke, had, with such honest indignation,
+      reprobated. She knew how, not only to seize the ridiculous points, to make
+      the most respectable people ridiculous, but she knew how to select the
+      worst instances, the worst exceptions; and to produce them as examples, as
+      precedents, from which to condemn whole classes, and establish general
+      false conclusions respecting a nation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the neighbourhood of Killpatrick&rsquo;s-town, Lady Dashfort said, there were
+      several <i>squireens</i>, or little squires; a race of men who have
+      succeeded to the <i>buckeens</i>, described by Young and Crumpe. <i>Squireens</i>
+      are persons who, with good long leases, or valuable farms, possess incomes
+      from three to eight hundred a year, who keep a pack of hounds; <i>take out</i>
+      a commission of the peace, sometimes before they can spell (as her
+      ladyship said), and almost always before they know any thing of law or
+      justice. Busy and loud about small matters; <i>jobbers at assizes</i>;
+      combining with one another, and trying upon every occasion, public or
+      private, to push themselves forward, to the annoyance of their superiors,
+      and the terror of those below them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the usual course of things, these men are not often to be found in the
+      society of gentry except, perhaps, among those gentlemen or noblemen who
+      like to see hangers-on at their, tables: or who find it for their
+      convenience to have underling magistrates, to <i>protect</i> their
+      favourites, or to propose and <i>carry</i> jobs for them on grand juries.
+      At election times, however, these persons rise into sudden importance with
+      all who have views upon the county. Lady Dashfort hinted to Lord
+      Killpatrick, that her private letters from England spoke of an approaching
+      dissolution of parliament: she knew that, upon this hint, a round of
+      invitations would be sent to the squireens; and she was morally certain
+      that they would be more disagreeable to Lord Colambre, and give him a
+      worse idea of the country, than any other people who could be produced.
+      Day after day some of these personages made their appearance; and Lady
+      Dashfort took care to draw them out upon the subjects on which she knew
+      that they would show the most self-sufficient ignorance, and the most
+      illiberal spirit. They succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Colambre! how I pity you, for being compelled to these permanent
+      sittings after dinner!&rdquo; said Lady Isabel to him one night, when he came
+      late to the ladies from the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Killpatrick insisted upon my staying to help him to push about that
+      never-ending, still-beginning electioneering bottle,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! if that were all; if these gentlemen would only drink:&mdash;but
+      their conversation!&rdquo; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t wonder my mother dreads returning to
+      Clonbrony Castle, if my father must have such company as this. But,
+      surely, it cannot be necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, indispensable! positively indispensable!&rdquo; cried Lady Dashfort; &ldquo;no
+      living in Ireland without it. You know, in every country in the world, you
+      must live with the people of the country, or be torn to pieces: for my
+      part, I should prefer being torn to pieces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel knew how to take advantage of the contrast
+      between their own conversation, and that of the persons by whom Lord
+      Colambre was so justly disgusted: they happily relieved his fatigue with
+      wit, satire, poetry, and sentiment; so that he every day became more
+      exclusively fond of their company; for Lady Killpatrick and the Miss
+      Killpatricks were mere commonplace people. In the mornings, he rode or
+      walked with Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel: Lady Dashfort, by way of
+      fulfilling her promise of showing him the people, used frequently to take
+      him into the cabins, and talk to their inhabitants. Lord and Lady
+      Killpatrick, who had lived always for the fashionable world, had taken
+      little pains to improve the condition of their tenants: the few attempts
+      they had made were injudicious. They had built ornamented, picturesque
+      cottages, within view of their park; and favourite followers of the
+      family, people with half a century&rsquo;s habit of indolence and dirt, were <i>promoted</i>
+      to these fine dwellings. The consequences were such as Lady Dashfort
+      delighted to point out: every thing let to go to ruin for the want of a
+      moment&rsquo;s care, or pulled to pieces for the sake of the most surreptitious
+      profit: the people most assisted always appearing proportionally wretched
+      and discontented. No one could, with more ease and more knowledge of her
+      ground, than Lady Dashfort, do the <i>dishonours</i> of a country. In
+      every cabin that she entered, by the first glance of her eye at the head,
+      kerchiefed in no comely guise, or by the drawn-down corners of the mouth,
+      or by the bit of a broken pipe, which in Ireland never characterizes <i>stout
+      labour</i>, or by the first sound of the voice, the drawling accent on
+      &ldquo;your honour,&rdquo; or, &ldquo;my lady,&rdquo; she could distinguish the proper objects of
+      her charitable designs, that is to say, those of the old uneducated race,
+      whom no one can help, because they will never help themselves. To these
+      she constantly addressed herself, making them give, in all their
+      despairing tones, a history of their complaints and grievances; then
+      asking them questions, aptly contrived to expose their habits of
+      self-contradiction, their servility and flattery one moment, and their
+      litigious and encroaching spirit the next: thus giving Lord Colambre the
+      most unfavourable idea of the disposition and character of the lower class
+      of the Irish people. Lady Isabel the while standing by, with the most
+      amiable air of pity, with expressions of the finest moral sensibility,
+      softening all her mother said, finding ever some excuse for the poor
+      creatures, and following, with angelic sweetness, to heal the wounds her
+      mother inflicted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Lady Dashfort thought she had sufficiently worked upon Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s mind to weaken his enthusiasm for his native country; and when
+      Lady Isabel had, by the appearance of every virtue, added to a delicate
+      preference, if not partiality for our hero, ingratiated herself into his
+      good opinion, and obtained an interest in his mind, the wily mother
+      ventured an attack of a more decisive nature; and so contrived it was,
+      that if it failed, it should appear to have been made without design to
+      injure, and in total ignorance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, Lady Dashfort, who, in fact, was not proud of her family, though
+      she pretended to be so, was herself prevailed on, though with much
+      difficulty, by Lady Killpatrick, to do the very thing she wanted to do, to
+      show her genealogy, which had been beautifully blazoned, and which was to
+      be produced in evidence in the lawsuit that brought her to Ireland. Lord
+      Colambre stood politely looking on and listening, while her ladyship
+      explained the splendid intermarriages of her family, pointing to each
+      medallion that was filled gloriously with noble, and even with royal
+      names, till at last she stopped short, and covering one medallion with her
+      finger, she said, &ldquo;Pass over that, dear Lady Killpatrick. You are not to
+      see that, Lord Colambre&mdash;that&rsquo;s a little blot in our scutcheon. You
+      know, Isabel, we never talk of that prudent match of great uncle John&rsquo;s:
+      what could he expect by marrying into <i>that</i> family, where, you know,
+      all the men were not <i>sans peur</i>, and none of the women <i>sans
+      reproche</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, mamma!&rdquo; cried Lady Isabel, &ldquo;not one exception!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one, Isabel,&rdquo; persisted Lady Dashfort: &ldquo;there was Lady &mdash;&mdash;,
+      and the other sister, that married the man with the long nose; and the
+      daughter again, of whom they contrived to make an honest woman, by getting
+      her married in time to a <i>blue riband</i>, and who contrived to get
+      herself into Doctors&rsquo; Commons the very next year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, dear mamma, that is enough, and too much. Oh! pray don&rsquo;t go on,&rdquo;
+       cried Lady Isabel, who had appeared very much distressed during her
+      mother&rsquo;s speech. &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know what you are saying: indeed, ma&rsquo;am, you
+      don&rsquo;t.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely, child; but that compliment I can return to you on the spot,
+      and with interest; for you seem to me, at this instant, not to know either
+      what you are saying, or what you are doing. Come, come, explain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;Pray say no more; I will explain myself another
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, there you are wrong, Isabel; in point of good-breeding, any thing is
+      better than hints and mystery. Since I have been so unlucky as to touch
+      upon the subject, better go through with it, and, with all the boldness of
+      innocence, I ask the question, Are you, my Lord Colambre, or are you not,
+      related to or connected with any of the St. Omars?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that I know of,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;but I really am so bad a
+      genealogist, that I cannot answer positively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I must put the substance of my question into a new form. Have you,
+      or have you not, a cousin of the name of Nugent?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Nugent!&mdash;Grace Nugent!&mdash;Yes,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, with as
+      much firmness of voice as he could command, and with as little change of
+      countenance as possible; but, as the question came upon him so
+      unexpectedly, it was not in his power to answer with an air of absolute
+      indifference and composure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And her mother was&mdash;&rdquo; said Lady Dashfort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My aunt, by marriage; her maiden name was Reynolds, I think. But she died
+      when I was quite a child. I know very little about her. I never saw her in
+      my life; but I am certain she was a Reynolds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear lord,&rdquo; continued Lady Dashfort; &ldquo;I am perfectly aware that
+      she did take and bear the name of Reynolds; but that was not her maiden
+      name&mdash;her maiden name was&mdash;; but perhaps it is a family secret
+      that has been kept, for some good reason, from you, and from the poor girl
+      herself; the maiden name was St. Omar, depend upon it. Nay, I would not
+      have told this to you, my lord, if I could have conceived that it would
+      affect you so violently,&rdquo; pursued Lady Dashfort, in a tone of raillery;
+      &ldquo;you see you are no worse off than we are. We have an intermarriage with
+      the St. Omars. I did not think you would be so much shocked at a
+      discovery, which proves that our family and yours have some little
+      connexion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre endeavoured to answer, and mechanically said something about
+      &ldquo;happy to have the honour.&rdquo; Lady Dashfort, truly happy to see that her
+      blow had hit the mark so well, turned from his lordship without seeming to
+      observe how seriously he was affected; and Lady Isabel sighed, and looked
+      with compassion on Lord Colambre, and then reproachfully at her mother.
+      But Lord Colambre heeded not her looks, and heard none of her sighs; he
+      heard nothing, saw nothing, though his eyes were intently fixed on the
+      genealogy, on which Lady Dashfort was still descanting to Lady
+      Killpatrick. He took the first opportunity he could of quitting the room,
+      and went out to take a solitary walk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There he is, departed, but not in peace, to reflect upon what has been
+      said,&rdquo; whispered Lady Dashfort to her daughter. &ldquo;I hope it will do him a
+      vast deal of good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None of the women <i>sans reproche</i>! None!&mdash;without one
+      exception,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre to himself; &ldquo;and Grace Nugent&rsquo;s mother a
+      St. Omar!&mdash;Is it possible? Lady Dashfort seems certain. She could not
+      assert a positive falsehood&mdash;no motive. She does not know that Miss
+      Nugent is the person to whom I am attached&mdash;she spoke at random. And
+      I have heard it first from a stranger,&mdash;not from my mother. Why was
+      it kept secret from me? Now I understand the reason why my mother
+      evidently never wished that I should think of Miss Nugent&mdash;why she
+      always spoke so vehemently against the marriages of relations, of cousins.
+      Why not tell me the truth? It would have had the strongest effect, had she
+      known my mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any woman whose mother
+      had conducted herself ill. His reason, his prejudices, his pride, his
+      delicacy, and even his limited experience were all against it. All his
+      hopes, his plans of future happiness, were shaken to their very
+      foundation; he felt as if he had received a blow that stunned his mind,
+      and from which he could not recover his faculties. The whole of that day
+      he was like one in a dream. At night the painful idea continually recurred
+      to him; and whenever he was fallen asleep, the sound of Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s
+      voice returned upon his ear, saying the words, &ldquo;What could he expect when
+      he married one of the St. Omars? None of the women <i>sans reproche</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the morning he rose early; and the first thing he did was to write a
+      letter to his mother, requesting (unless there was some important reason
+      for her declining to answer the question) that she would immediately
+      relieve his mind from a great <i>uneasiness</i> (he altered the word four
+      times, but at last left it uneasiness). He stated what he had heard, and
+      besought his mother to tell him the whole truth without reserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One morning Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious scheme for leaving Lady
+      Isabel and Lord Colambre <i>tête-à-tête</i>; but the sudden entrance of
+      Heathcock disconcerted her intentions. He came to beg Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s
+      interest with Count O&rsquo;Halloran, for permission to hunt and shoot on his
+      grounds next season.&mdash;&ldquo;Not for myself, &lsquo;pon honour, but for two
+      officers who are quartered at the next <i>town</i> here, who will
+      indubitably hang or drown themselves if they are debarred from sporting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this Count O&rsquo;Halloran?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss White, Lady Killpatrick&rsquo;s companion, said, &ldquo;he was a great oddity;&rdquo;
+       Lady Dashfort, &ldquo;that he was singular;&rdquo; and the clergyman of the parish,
+      who was at breakfast, declared &ldquo;that he was a man of uncommon knowledge,
+      merit, and politeness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All I know of him,&rdquo; said Heathcock, &ldquo;is, that he is a great sportsman,
+      with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and long skirts to a laced
+      waistcoat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary personage; and
+      Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and, perhaps thinking absence
+      might be as effectual as too much propinquity, immediately offered to call
+      upon the officers in their way, and carry them with Heathcock and Lord
+      Colambre to Halloran Castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with becoming grace; and
+      Major Benson and Captain Williamson were taken to the count&rsquo;s. Major
+      Benson, who was a famous <i>whip</i>, took his seat on the box of the
+      barouche; and the rest of the party had the pleasure of her ladyship&rsquo;s
+      conversation for three or four miles: of her ladyship&rsquo;s conversation&mdash;for
+      Lord Colambre&rsquo;s thoughts were far distant; Captain Williamson had not any
+      thing to say; and Heathcock nothing but &ldquo;Eh! re&rsquo;lly now!&mdash;&lsquo;pon
+      honour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They arrived at Halloran Castle&mdash;a fine old building, part of it in
+      ruins, and part repaired with great judgment and taste. When the carriage
+      stopped, a respectable-looking man-servant appeared on the steps, at the
+      open hall-door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran was out fishing; but his servant said that he would he at
+      home immediately, if Lady Dashfort and the gentlemen would be pleased to
+      walk in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On one side of the lofty and spacious hall stood the skeleton of an elk;
+      on the other side, the perfect skeleton of a moose-deer, which, as the
+      servant said, his master had made out, with great care, from the different
+      bones of many of this curious species of deer, found in the lakes in the
+      neighbourhood. The leash of officers witnessed their wonder with sundry
+      strange oaths and exclamations.&mdash;&ldquo;Eh! &lsquo;pon honour&mdash;re&rsquo;lly now!&rdquo;
+       said Heathcock; and, too genteel to wonder at or admire any thing in the
+      creation, dragged out his watch with some difficulty, saying, &ldquo;I wonder
+      now whether they are likely to think of giving us any thing to eat in this
+      place?&rdquo; And, turning his back upon the moose-deer, he straight walked out
+      again upon the steps, called to his groom, and began to make some inquiry
+      about his led horse. Lord Colambre surveyed the prodigious skeletons with
+      rational curiosity, and with that sense of awe and admiration, by which a
+      superior mind is always struck on beholding any of the great works of
+      Providence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, my dear lord!&rdquo; said Lady Dashfort; &ldquo;with our sublime sensations, we
+      are keeping my old friend, Mr. Ulick Brady, this venerable person, waiting
+      to show us into the reception-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant bowed respectfully&mdash;more respectfully than servants of
+      modern date.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lady, the reception-room has been lately painted,&mdash;the smell of
+      paint may be disagreeable; with your leave, I will take the liberty of
+      showing you into my master&rsquo;s study.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He opened the door, went in before her, and stood holding up his finger,
+      as if making a signal of silence to some one within. Her ladyship entered,
+      and found herself in the midst of an odd assembly: an eagle, a goat, a
+      dog, an otter, several gold and silver fish in a glass globe, and a white
+      mouse in a cage. The eagle, quick of eye but quiet of demeanour, was
+      perched upon his stand; the otter lay under the table, perfectly harmless;
+      the Angora goat, a beautiful and remarkably little creature of its kind,
+      with long, curling, silky hair, was walking about the room with the air of
+      a beauty and a favourite; the dog, a tall Irish greyhound&mdash;one of the
+      few of that fine race, which is now almost extinct&mdash;had been given to
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran by an Irish nobleman, a relation of Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s. This
+      dog, who had formerly known her ladyship, looked at her with ears erect,
+      recognized her, and went to meet her the moment she entered. The servant
+      answered for the peaceable behaviour of all the rest of the company of
+      animals, and retired. Lady Dashfort began to feed the eagle from a silver
+      plate on his stand; Lord Colambre examined the inscription on his collar;
+      the other men stood in amaze. Heathcock, who came in last, astonished out
+      of his constant &ldquo;Eh! re&rsquo;lly now!&rdquo; the moment he put himself in at the
+      door, exclaimed, &ldquo;Zounds! what&rsquo;s all this live lumber?&rdquo; and he stumbled
+      over the goat, who was at that moment crossing the way. The colonel&rsquo;s spur
+      caught in the goat&rsquo;s curly beard; the colonel shook his foot, and
+      entangled the spur worse and worse; the goat struggled and butted; the
+      colonel skated forward on the polished oak floor, balancing himself with
+      outstretched arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The indignant eagle screamed, and, passing by, perched on Heathcock&rsquo;s
+      shoulders. Too well bred to have recourse to the terrors of his beak, he
+      scrupled not to scream, and flap his wings about the colonel&rsquo;s ears. Lady
+      Dashfort, the while, threw herself back in her chair, laughing, and
+      begging Heathcock&rsquo;s pardon. &ldquo;Oh, take care of the dog, my dear colonel!&rdquo;
+       cried she; &ldquo;for this kind of dog seizes his enemy by the back, and shakes
+      him to death.&rdquo; The officers, holding their sides, laughed and begged&mdash;no
+      pardon; while Lord Colambre, the only person who was not absolutely
+      incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur, and to liberate the colonel
+      from the goat, and the goat from the colonel; an attempt in which he at
+      last succeeded, at the expense of a considerable portion of the goat&rsquo;s
+      beard. The eagle, however, still kept his place; and, yet mindful of the
+      wrongs of his insulted friend the goat, had stretched his wings to give
+      another buffet. Count O&rsquo;Halloran entered; and the bird, quitting his prey,
+      flew down to greet his master. The count was a fine old military-looking
+      gentleman, fresh from fishing: his fishing accoutrements hanging
+      carelessly about him, he advanced, unembarrassed, to Lady Dashfort; and
+      received his other guests with a mixture of military ease and
+      gentlemanlike dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation in which he had
+      found poor Heathcock, he apologized in general for his troublesome
+      favourites. &ldquo;For one of them,&rdquo; said he, patting the head of the dog, which
+      lay quiet at Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s feet, &ldquo;I see I have no need to apologize; he
+      is where he ought to be. Poor fellow! he has never lost his taste for the
+      good company to which he was early accustomed. As to the rest,&rdquo; said he,
+      turning to Lady Dashfort, &ldquo;a mouse, a bird, and a fish, are, you know,
+      tribute from earth, air, and water, to a conqueror&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But from no barbarous Scythian!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, smiling. The count
+      looked at Lord Colambre, as at a person worthy his attention; but his
+      first care was to keep the peace between his loving subjects and his
+      foreign visitors. It was difficult to dislodge the old settlers, to make
+      room for the new comers: but he adjusted these things with admirable
+      facility; and, with a master&rsquo;s hand and master&rsquo;s eye, compelled each
+      favourite to retreat into the back settlements. With becoming attention,
+      he stroked and kept quiet old Victory, his eagle, who eyed Colonel
+      Heathcock still, as if he did not like him; and whom the colonel eyed as
+      if he wished his neck fairly wrung off. The little goat had nestled
+      himself close up to his liberator, Lord Colambre, and lay perfectly quiet,
+      with his eyes closed, going very wisely to sleep, and submitting
+      philosophically to the loss of one half of his beard. Conversation now
+      commenced, and was carried on by Count O&rsquo;Halloran with much ability and
+      spirit, and with such quickness of discrimination and delicacy of taste,
+      as quite surprised and delighted our hero. To the lady the count&rsquo;s
+      attention was first directed: he listened to her as she spoke, bending
+      with an air of deference and devotion. She made her request for permission
+      for Major Benson and Captain Williamson to hunt and shoot in his grounds
+      next season: this was instantly granted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her ladyship&rsquo;s requests were to him commands, the count said.&mdash;His
+      gamekeeper should be instructed to give the gentlemen, her friends, every
+      liberty, and all possible assistance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, turning to the officers, he said, he had just heard that several
+      regiments of English militia had lately landed in Ireland; that one
+      regiment was arrived at Killpatrick&rsquo;s-town. He rejoiced in the advantages
+      Ireland, and he hoped he might be permitted to add, England, would
+      probably derive from the exchange of the militia of both countries: habits
+      would be improved, ideas enlarged. The two countries have the same
+      interest; and, from the inhabitants discovering more of each other&rsquo;s good
+      qualities, and interchanging little good offices in common life, their
+      esteem and affection for each other would increase, and rest upon the firm
+      basis of mutual utility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To all this Major Benson answered only, &ldquo;We are not militia officers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw,&rdquo; whispered Lady Dashfort
+      to Lord Colambre, &ldquo;and the captain so like the king of spades, putting
+      forth one manly leg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran now turned the conversation to field sports, and then the
+      captain and major opened at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray now, sir,&rdquo; said the major, &ldquo;you fox-hunt in this country, I suppose;
+      and now do you manage the thing here as we do? Over night, you know,
+      before the hunt, when the fox is out, stopping up the earths of the cover
+      we mean to draw, and all the rest for four miles round. Next morning we
+      assemble at the cover&rsquo;s side, and the huntsman throws in the hounds. The
+      gossip here is no small part of the entertainment: but as soon as we hear
+      the hounds give tongue&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The favourite hounds,&rdquo; interposed Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The favourite hounds, to be sure,&rdquo; continued Benson: &ldquo;there is a dead
+      silence till pug is well out of cover, and the whole pack well in: then
+      cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till your lungs crack. Away he goes in
+      gallant style, and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes a stiff
+      country: then they who haven&rsquo;t pluck lag, see no more of him, and, with a
+      fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope,&rdquo; said Lady Dashfort: &ldquo;I was
+      thrown out sadly at one time in the chase.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, with the count&rsquo;s permission, took up a book in which the
+      count&rsquo;s pencil lay, &ldquo;Pasley on the Military Policy of Great Britain;&rdquo; it
+      was marked with many notes of admiration, and with hands pointing to
+      remarkable passages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind,&rdquo; said the
+      count.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning with &ldquo;All that
+      distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen is so
+      trifling&mdash;&rdquo; but at this instant our hero&rsquo;s attention was distracted
+      by seeing in a black-letter book this title of a chapter: &ldquo;Burial-place of
+      the Nugents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray now, sir,&rdquo; said Captain Williamson, &ldquo;if I don&rsquo;t interrupt you, as
+      you are a fisherman too; now in Ireland do you, <i>Mr.</i>&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood behind him, stopped
+      the captain short, as he pronounced the word <i>Mr.</i> Like all awkward
+      people, he turned directly to ask, by his looks, what was the matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before him,
+      determined to have the fishing to himself, and went on with, &ldquo;Count
+      O&rsquo;Halloran, I presume you understand fishing, too, as well as hunting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count bowed: &ldquo;I do not presume to say that, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways? Give me
+      leave;&rdquo; taking the whip from Williamson&rsquo;s reluctant hand, &ldquo;this ways,
+      laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion next to your hook,
+      and the point next to your shank, this wise, and that wise; and then, sir,&mdash;count,
+      you take the hackle of a cock&rsquo;s neck&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A plover&rsquo;s topping&rsquo;s better,&rdquo; said Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And work your gold and silver thread,&rdquo; pursued Benson, &ldquo;up to your wings,
+      and when your head&rsquo;s made, you fasten all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you never showed how your head&rsquo;s made,&rdquo; interrupted Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gentleman knows how a head&rsquo;s made; any man can make a head, I
+      suppose: so, sir, you fasten all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll never get your head fast on that way, while the world stands,&rdquo;
+       cried Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fast enough for all purposes; I&rsquo;ll bet you a rump and dozen, captain: and
+      then, sir,&mdash;count, you divide your wings with a needle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pin&rsquo;s point will do,&rdquo; said Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet, which he
+      had opened for Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s inspection, a little basket containing a
+      variety of artificial flies of curious construction, which, as he spread
+      them on the table, made Williamson and Benson&rsquo;s eyes almost sparkle with
+      delight. There was the <i>dun-fly</i>, for the month of March; and the <i>stone-fly</i>,
+      much in vogue for April; and the <i>ruddy-fly</i>, of red wool, black
+      silk, and red capon&rsquo;s feathers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of the Nugents, wished
+      them all at the bottom of the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the <i>green-fly</i>, and the <i>moorish-fly</i>!&rdquo; cried Benson,
+      snatching them up with transport; &ldquo;and, chief, the <i>sad-yellow-fly</i>,
+      in which the fish delight in June; the <i>sad-yellow-fly</i>, made with
+      the buzzard&rsquo;s wings, bound with black braked hemp, and the <i>shell-fly</i>,
+      for the middle of July, made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the
+      herle of a peacock&rsquo;s tail, famous for creating excellent sport.&rdquo; All these
+      and more were spread upon the table before the sportsmen&rsquo;s wondering eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Capital flies! capital, faith!&rdquo; cried Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Treasures, faith, real treasures, by G&mdash;!&rdquo; cried Benson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! &lsquo;pon honour! re&rsquo;lly now,&rdquo; were the first words which Heathcock had
+      uttered since his battle with the goat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Heathcock, are you alive still?&rdquo; said Lady Dashfort: &ldquo;I had
+      really forgotten your existence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So had Count O&rsquo;Halloran, but he did not say so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your ladyship has the advantage of me there,&rdquo; said Heathcock, stretching
+      himself; &ldquo;I wish I could forget my existence, for, in my mind, existence
+      is a horrible <i>bore</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you <i>was</i> a sportsman,&rdquo; said Williamson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a fisherman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why look you there, sir,&rdquo; pointing to the flies, &ldquo;and tell a body life&rsquo;s
+      a bore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One can&rsquo;t <i>always</i> fish or shoot, I apprehend, sir,&rdquo; said Heathcock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not always&mdash;but sometimes,&rdquo; said Williamson, laughing; &ldquo;for I
+      suspect shrewdly you&rsquo;ve forgot some of your sporting in Bond-street.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! &lsquo;pon honour! re&rsquo;lly now!&rdquo; said the colonel, retreating again to his
+      safe entrenchment of affectation, from which he never could venture
+      without imminent danger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Pon honour,&rdquo; cried Lady Dashfort, &ldquo;I can swear for Heathcock, that I
+      have eaten excellent hares and ducks of his shooting, which, to my
+      knowledge,&rdquo; added she, in a loud whisper, &ldquo;he bought in the market.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Emptum aprum!</i>&rdquo; said Lord Colambre to the count, without danger of
+      being understood by those whom it concerned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The count smiled a second time; but politely turning the attention of the
+      company from the unfortunate colonel, by addressing himself to the
+      laughing sportsmen, &ldquo;Gentlemen, you seem to value these,&rdquo; said he,
+      sweeping the artificial flies from the table into the little basket from
+      which they had been taken; &ldquo;would you do me the honour to accept of them?
+      They are all of my own making, and consequently of Irish manufacture.&rdquo;
+       Then, ringing the bell, he asked Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s permission to have the
+      basket put into her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Benson and Williamson followed the servant, to prevent them from being
+      tossed into the boot. Heathcock stood still in the middle of the room,
+      taking snuff.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran turned from him to Lord Colambre, who had just got
+      happily to <i>the burial-place of the Nugents</i>, when Lady Dashfort,
+      coming between them, and spying the title of the chapter, exclaimed, &ldquo;What
+      have you there?&mdash;Antiquities! my delight!&mdash;but I never look at
+      engravings when I can see realities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was then compelled to follow, as she led the way, into the
+      hall, where the count took down golden ornaments, and brass-headed spears,
+      and jointed horns of curious workmanship, that had been found on his
+      estate; and he told of spermaceti wrapped in carpets, and he showed small
+      urns, enclosing ashes; and from among these urns he selected one, which he
+      put into the hands of Lord Colambre, telling him, that it had been lately
+      found in an old abbey-ground in his neighbourhood, which had been the
+      burial-place of some of the Nugent family.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just looking at the account of it, in the book which you saw open
+      on my table.&mdash;And as you seem to take an interest in that family, my
+      lord, perhaps,&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;you may think this urn worth your
+      acceptance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre said, &ldquo;It would be highly valuable to him&mdash;as the
+      Nugents were his near relations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Dashfort little expected this blow; she, however, carried him off to
+      the moose-deer, and from moose-deer to round-towers, to various
+      architectural antiquities, and to the real and fabulous history of
+      Ireland, on all which the count spoke with learning and enthusiasm. But
+      now, to Colonel Heathcock&rsquo;s great joy and relief, a handsome collation
+      appeared in the dining-room, of which Ulick opened the folding-doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count, you have made an excellent house of your castle,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Dashfort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be, when it is finished,&rdquo; said the count. &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; added
+      he, smiling, &ldquo;I live like many other Irish gentlemen, who never are, but
+      always to be, blessed with a good house. I began on too large a scale, and
+      can never hope to live to finish it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Pon honour! here&rsquo;s a good thing, which I hope we shall live to finish,&rdquo;
+       said Heathcock, sitting down before the collation; and heartily did he eat
+      of eel-pie, and of Irish ortolans <a href="#linknote-4"
+       name="linknoteref-4" id="linknoteref-4"><small>4</small></a>, which, as
+      Lady Dashfort observed, &ldquo;afforded him indemnity for the past, and security
+      for the future.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! re&rsquo;lly now! your Irish ortolans are famous good eating,&rdquo; said
+      Heathcock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Worth being quartered in Ireland, faith! to taste &lsquo;em,&rdquo; said Benson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The count recommended to Lady Dashfort some of &ldquo;that delicate sweetmeat,
+      the Irish plum.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless me, sir,&mdash;count!&rdquo; cried Williamson, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s by far the best
+      thing of the kind I ever tasted in all my life: where could you get this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In Dublin, at my dear Mrs. Godey&rsquo;s; where <i>only</i>, in his majesty&rsquo;s
+      dominions, it is to be had,&rdquo; said the count.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The whole vanished in a few seconds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Pon honour! I do believe this is the thing the queen&rsquo;s so fond of,&rdquo; said
+      Heathcock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then heartily did he drink of the count&rsquo;s excellent Hungarian wines; and,
+      by the common bond of sympathy between those who have no other tastes but
+      eating and drinking, the colonel, the major, and the captain, were now all
+      the best companions possible for one another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst &ldquo;they prolonged the rich repast,&rdquo; Lady Dashfort and Lord Colambre
+      went to the window to admire the prospect: Lady Dashfort asked the count
+      the name of some distant hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;that hill was once covered with fine wood; but it
+      was all cut down two years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who could have been so cruel?&rdquo; said her ladyship.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forget the present proprietor&rsquo;s name,&rdquo; said the count; &ldquo;but he is one
+      of those who, according to <i>the clause of distress</i> in their leases,
+      <i>lead, drive, and carry away</i>, but never <i>enter</i> their lands;
+      one of those enemies to Ireland&mdash;those cruel absentees!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Dashfort looked through her glass at the mountain:&mdash;Lord
+      Colambre sighed, and, endeavouring to pass it off with a smile, said
+      frankly to the count, &ldquo;You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are
+      speaking to the son of an Irish absentee family. Nay, do not be shocked,
+      my dear sir; I tell you only because I thought it fair to do so: but let
+      me assure you, that nothing you could say on that subject could hurt me
+      personally, because I feel that I am not, that I never can be, an enemy to
+      Ireland. An absentee, voluntarily, I never yet have been; and as to the
+      future, I declare&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare you know nothing of the future,&rdquo; interrupted Lady Dashfort, in
+      a half peremptory, half playful tone&mdash;&ldquo;you know nothing: make no rash
+      vows, and you will break none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s genius for intrigue gave her an
+      air of frank imprudence, which prevented Lord Colambre from suspecting
+      that more was meant than met the ear. The count and he took leave of one
+      another with mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to have got our
+      hero out of Halloran Castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre had waited with great impatience for an answer to the letter
+      of inquiry which he had written about Miss Nugent&rsquo;s mother. A letter from
+      Lady Clonbrony arrived: he opened it with the greatest eagerness&mdash;passed
+      over &ldquo;Rheumatism&mdash;warm weather&mdash;warm bath&mdash;Buxton balls&mdash;Miss
+      Broadhurst&mdash;your <i>friend</i>, Sir Arthur Berryl, very assiduous!&rdquo;
+       The name of Grace Nugent he found at last, and read as follows:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Her mother&rsquo;s maiden name was <i>St. Omar</i>; and there was a <i>faux
+    pas</i>, certainly. She was, I am told, (for it was before my time,)
+    educated at a convent abroad; and there was an affair with a
+    Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were obliged
+    to hush up. She brought an infant to England with her, and took
+    the name of Reynolds&mdash;but none of that family would acknowledge
+    her: and she lived in great obscurity, till your Uncle Nugent saw,
+    fell in love with her, and (knowing her whole history) married
+    her. He adopted the child, gave her his name, and, after some
+    years, the whole story was forgotten. Nothing could be more
+    disadvantageous to Grace than to have it revived: this is the
+    reason we kept it secret.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his countenance, she
+      guessed the nature of the letter which he had been reading, and for the
+      arrival of which he had been so impatient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has worked!&rdquo; said she to herself. &ldquo;<i>Pour le coup Philippe je te
+      tiens</i>!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible than he had ever yet seemed
+      to the charms of the fair Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many a tennis-ball, and many a heart, is caught at the rebound,&rdquo; said
+      Lady Dashfort. &ldquo;Isabel! now is your time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so it was&mdash;or so, perhaps, it would have been, but for a
+      circumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius for intrigue, had
+      never taken into her consideration. Count O&rsquo;Halloran came to return the
+      visit which had been paid to him; and, in the course of conversation, he
+      spoke of the officers who had been introduced to him, and told Lady
+      Dashfort that he had heard a report which shocked him much&mdash;he hoped
+      it could not be true&mdash;that one of these officers had introduced his
+      mistress as his wife to Lady Oranmore, who lived in the neighbourhood.
+      This officer, it was said, had let Lady Oranmore send her carriage for
+      this woman; and that she had dined at Oranmore with her ladyship and her
+      daughters. &ldquo;But I cannot believe it! I cannot believe it to be possible,
+      that any gentleman, that any <i>officer</i> could do such a thing!&rdquo; said
+      the count.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is this all?&rdquo; exclaimed Lady Dashfort. &ldquo;Is this all the terrible
+      affair, my good count, which has brought your face to this prodigious
+      length?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count looked at Lady Dashfort with astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such a look of virtuous indignation,&rdquo; continued she, &ldquo;did I never behold
+      on or off the stage. Forgive me for laughing, count; but, believe me,
+      comedy goes through the world better than tragedy, and, take it all in
+      all, does rather less mischief. As to the thing in question, I know
+      nothing about it; I dare say it is not true: but, now, suppose it were&mdash;it
+      is only a silly <i>quiz</i> of a raw young officer upon a prudish old
+      dowager. I know nothing about it, for my part: but, after all, what
+      irreparable mischief has been done? Laugh at the thing, and then it is a
+      jest&mdash;a bad one, perhaps, but still only a jest&mdash;and there&rsquo;s an
+      end of it: but take it seriously, and there is no knowing where it might
+      end&mdash;in this poor man&rsquo;s being broke, and in half a dozen duels, may
+      be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of that, madam,&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;Lady Oranmore&rsquo;s prudence and presence
+      of mind have prevented all danger. Her ladyship <i>would</i> not
+      understand the insult. She said, or she acted as if she said, &lsquo;<i>Je ne
+      veux rien voir, rien écouter, rien savoir.</i>&rsquo; Lady Oranmore is one of
+      the most respectable&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count, I beg your pardon!&rdquo; interrupted Lady Dashfort; &ldquo;but I must tell
+      you, that your favourite, Lady Oranmore, has behaved very ill to me;
+      purposely omitted to invite Isabel to her ball; offended and insulted me:&mdash;her
+      praises, therefore, cannot be the most agreeable subject of conversation
+      you can choose for my amusement; and as to the rest, you, who have such
+      variety and so much politeness, will, I am sure, have the goodness to
+      indulge my caprice in this instance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall obey your ladyship, and be silent, whatever pleasure it might
+      give me to speak on that subject,&rdquo; said the count; &ldquo;and I trust Lady
+      Dashfort will reward me by the assurance, that, however playfully she may
+      have just now spoken, she seriously disapproves, and is shocked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, shocked! shocked to death! if that will satisfy you, my dear count.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count, obviously, was not satisfied: he had civil, as well as military
+      courage, and his sense of right and wrong could stand against the raillery
+      and ridicule of a fine lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The conversation ended: Lady Dashfort thought it would have no farther
+      consequences; and she did not regret the loss of a man like Count
+      O&rsquo;Halloran, who lived retired in his castle, and who could not have any
+      influence upon the opinion of the fashionable world. However, upon turning
+      from the count to Lord Colambre, who she thought had been occupied with
+      Lady Isabel, and to whom she imagined all this dispute was uninteresting,
+      she perceived, by his countenance, that she had made a great mistake.
+      Still she trusted that her power over Lord Colambre was sufficient easily
+      to efface whatever unfavourable impression this conversation had made upon
+      his mind. He had no personal interest in the affair; and she had generally
+      found that people are easily satisfied about any wrong or insult, public
+      or private, in which they have no immediate concern. But all the charms of
+      her conversation were now tried in vain to reclaim him from the reverie
+      into which he had fallen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His friend Sir James Brooke&rsquo;s parting advice occurred to our hero: his
+      eyes began to open to Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s character; and he was, from this
+      moment, freed from her power. Lady Isabel, however, had taken no part in
+      all this&mdash;she was blameless; and, independently of her mother, and in
+      pretended opposition of sentiment, she might have continued to retain the
+      influence she had gained over Lord Colambre, but that a slight accident
+      revealed to him <i>her</i> real disposition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It happened, on the evening of this day, that Lady Isabel came into the
+      library with one of the young ladies of the house, talking very eagerly,
+      without perceiving Lord Colambre, who was sitting in one of the recesses
+      reading.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear creature, you are quite mistaken,&rdquo; said Lady Isabel, &ldquo;he was
+      never a favourite of mine; I always detested him; I only flirted with him
+      to plague his wife. Oh, that wife! my dear Elizabeth, I do hate,&rdquo; cried
+      she, clasping her hands, and expressing hatred with all her soul, and with
+      all her strength. &ldquo;I detest that Lady de Cressy to such a degree, that, to
+      purchase the pleasure of making her feel the pangs of jealousy for one
+      hour, look, I would this moment lay down this finger and let it be cut
+      off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The face, the whole figure of Lady Isabel, at this moment, appeared to
+      Lord Colambre suddenly metamorphosed; instead of the soft, gentle, amiable
+      female, all sweet charity and tender sympathy, formed to love and to be
+      loved, he beheld one possessed and convulsed by an evil spirit&mdash;her
+      beauty, if beauty it could be called, the beauty of a fiend. Some
+      ejaculation, which he unconsciously uttered, made Lady Isabel start. She
+      saw him&mdash;saw the expression of his countenance, and knew that all was
+      over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, to the utter astonishment and disappointment of Lady
+      Dashfort, and to the still greater mortification of Lady Isabel, announced
+      this night that it was necessary he should immediately pursue his tour in
+      Ireland. We pass over all the castles in the air which the young ladies of
+      the family had built, and which now fell to the ground. We pass all the
+      civil speeches of Lord and Lady Killpatrick; all the vehement
+      remonstrances of Lady Dashfort; and the vain sighs of Lady Isabel. To the
+      last moment Lady Dashfort said, &ldquo;He will not go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he went; and, when he was gone, Lady Dashfort exclaimed, &ldquo;That man has
+      escaped from me.&rdquo; After a pause, turning to her daughter, she, in the most
+      taunting and contemptuous terms, reproached her as the cause of this
+      failure, concluding by a declaration, that she must in future manage her
+      own affairs, and had best settle her mind to marry Heathcock, since every
+      one else was too wise to think of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Isabel of course retorted. But we leave this amiable mother and
+      daughter to recriminate in appropriate terms, and we follow our hero,
+      rejoiced that he has been disentangled from their snares. Those who have
+      never been in similar peril will wonder much that he did not escape
+      sooner; those who have ever been in like danger will wonder more that he
+      escaped at all. They who are best acquainted with the heart or imagination
+      of man will be most ready to acknowledge that the combined charms of wit,
+      beauty, and flattery, may, for a time, suspend the action of right reason
+      in the mind of the greatest philosopher, or operate against the
+      resolutions of the greatest of heroes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre pursued his way to Halloran Castle, desirous, before he
+      quitted this part of the country, to take leave of the count, who had
+      shown him much civility, and for whose honourable conduct and generous
+      character he had conceived a high esteem, which no little peculiarities of
+      antiquated dress or manner could diminish. Indeed, the old-fashioned
+      politeness of what was formerly called a well-bred gentleman pleased him
+      better than the indolent or insolent selfishness of modern men of the ton.
+      Perhaps, notwithstanding our hero&rsquo;s determination to turn his mind from
+      every thing connected with the idea of Miss Nugent, some latent curiosity
+      about the burial-place of the Nugents might have operated to make him call
+      upon the count. In this hope he was disappointed; for a cross miller, to
+      whom the abbey-ground was let, on which the burial-place was found, had
+      taken it into his head to refuse admittance, and none could enter his
+      ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran was much pleased by Lord Colambre&rsquo;s visit. The very day
+      of his arrival at Halloran Castle, the count was going to Oranmore; he was
+      dressed, and his carriage was waiting: therefore Lord Colambre begged that
+      he might not detain him, and the count requested his lordship to accompany
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me have the honour of introducing you, my lord, to a family, with
+      whom, I am persuaded, you will he pleased; by whom you will be
+      appreciated; and at whose house you will have an opportunity of seeing the
+      best manner of living of the Irish nobility.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre accepted the invitation, and was introduced at Oranmore. The
+      dignified appearance and respectable character of Lady Oranmore; the
+      charming unaffected manners of her daughters; the air of domestic
+      happiness and comfort in her family; the becoming magnificence, free from
+      ostentation, in her whole establishment; the respect and affection with
+      which she was treated by all who approached her, delighted and touched
+      Lord Colambre; the more, perhaps, because he had heard this family so
+      unjustly abused; and because he saw Lady Oranmore and her daughter in
+      immediate contrast with Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little circumstance which occurred during this visit, increased his
+      interest for the family. When Lady de Cressy&rsquo;s little boys came in after
+      dinner, one of them was playing with a seal, which had just been torn from
+      a letter. The child showed it to Lord Colambre, and asked him to read the
+      motto. The motto was, &ldquo;Deeds, not words.&rdquo; His friend Sir James Brooke&rsquo;s
+      motto, and his arms. Lord Colambre eagerly inquired if this family was
+      acquainted with Sir James, and he soon perceived that they were not only
+      acquainted with him, but that they were particularly interested about him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Oranmore&rsquo;s second daughter, Lady Harriet, appeared particularly
+      pleased by the manner in which Lord Colambre spoke of Sir James. And the
+      child, who had now established himself on his lordship&rsquo;s knee, turned
+      round, and whispered in his ear, &ldquo;&lsquo;Twas aunt Harriet gave me the seal; Sir
+      James is to be married to aunt Harriet, and then he will be my uncle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of the principal gentry of this part of the country happened to dine
+      at Oranmore on one of the days Lord Colambre was there. He was surprised
+      at the discovery, that there were so many agreeable, well-informed, and
+      well-bred people, of whom, while he was at Killpatrick&rsquo;s-town, he had seen
+      nothing. He now discerned how far he had been deceived by Lady Dashfort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Both the count, and Lord and Lady Oranmore, who were warmly attached to
+      their country, exhorted him to make himself amends for the time he had
+      lost, by seeing with his own eyes, and judging with his own understanding,
+      of the country and its inhabitants, during the remainder of the time he
+      was to stay in Ireland. The higher classes, in most countries, they
+      observed, were generally similar; but, in the lower class, he would find
+      many characteristic differences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When he first came to Ireland, he had been very eager to go and see his
+      father&rsquo;s estate, and to judge of the conduct of his agents, and the
+      condition of his tenantry; but this eagerness had subsided, and the design
+      had almost faded from his mind, whilst under the influence of Lady
+      Dashfort&rsquo;s misrepresentations. A mistake, relative to some remittance from
+      his banker in Dublin, obliged him to delay his journey a few days, and
+      during that time, Lord and Lady Oranmore showed him the neat cottages, and
+      well-attended schools, in their neighbourhood. They showed him not only
+      what could be done, but what had been done, by the influence of great
+      proprietors residing on their own estates, and encouraging the people by
+      judicious kindness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He saw,&mdash;he acknowledged the truth of this; but it did not come home
+      to his feelings now as it would have done a little while ago. His views
+      and plans were altered: he had looked forward to the idea of marrying and
+      settling in Ireland, and then every thing in the country was interesting
+      to him; but since he had forbidden himself to think of a union with Miss
+      Nugent, his mind had lost its object and its spring; he was not
+      sufficiently calm to think of the public good; his thoughts were absorbed
+      by his private concerns. He knew and repeated to himself, that he ought to
+      visit his own and his father&rsquo;s estates, and to see the condition of his
+      tenantry; he desired to fulfil his duties, but they ceased to appear to
+      him easy and pleasurable, for hope and love no longer brightened his
+      prospects.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That he might see and hear more than he could as heir-apparent to the
+      estate, he sent his servant to Dublin to wait for him there. He travelled
+      <i>incognito</i>, wrapped himself in a shabby great-coat, and took the
+      name of Evans. He arrived at a village, or, as it was called, a town,
+      which bore the name of Colambre. He was agreeably surprised by the air of
+      neatness and finish in the houses and in the street, which had a nicely
+      swept paved footway. He slept at a small but excellent inn,&mdash;excellent,
+      perhaps, because it was small, and proportioned to the situation and
+      business of the place. Good supper, good bed, good attendance; nothing out
+      of repair; no things pressed into services for which they were never
+      intended by nature or art. No chambermaid slipshod, or waiter smelling of
+      whiskey; but all tight and right, and every body doing their own business,
+      and doing it as if it were their every day occupation, not as if it were
+      done by particular desire, for the first or last time this season. The
+      landlord came in at supper to inquire whether any thing was wanted. Lord
+      Colambre took this opportunity of entering into conversation with him, and
+      asked him to whom the town belonged, and who were the proprietors of the
+      neighbouring estates.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The town belongs to an absentee lord&mdash;one Lord Clonbrony, who lives
+      always beyond the seas, in London; and who had never seen the town since
+      it was a town, to call a town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this Lord Clonbrony?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does, sir; he&rsquo;s a great proprietor, but knows nothing of his property,
+      nor of us. Never set foot among us, to my knowledge, since I was as high
+      as the table. He might as well be a West India planter, and we negroes,
+      for any thing he knows to the contrary&mdash;has no more care, nor thought
+      about us, than if he were in Jamaica, or the other world. Shame for him!
+      But there&rsquo;s too many to keep him in countenance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and then inquired who
+      managed the estate for this absentee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Burke, sir. And I don&rsquo;t know why God was so kind to give so good an
+      agent to an absentee like Lord Clonbrony, except it was for the sake of
+      us, who is under him, and knows the blessing, and is thankful for the
+      same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good cutlets,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be good, for Mrs. Burke
+      sent her own cook to teach my wife to dress cutlets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So the agent is a good agent, is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is, thanks be to Heaven! And that&rsquo;s what few can boast, especially
+      when the landlord&rsquo;s living over the seas: we have the luck to have got a
+      good agent over us, in Mr. Burke, who is a right bred gentleman; a snug
+      little property of his own, honestly made; with the good-will, and good
+      wishes, and respect of all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he live in the neighbourhood?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just <i>convanient</i>.<a href="#linknote-5" name="linknoteref-5"
+       id="linknoteref-5"><small>5</small></a> At the end of the town; in the
+      house on the hill as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees about
+      it, all of his own planting, grown too; for there&rsquo;s a blessing on all he
+      does, and he has done a deal.&mdash;There&rsquo;s salad, sir, if you are <i>partial</i>
+      to it. Very fine lettuce. Mrs. Burke sent us the plants herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great deal, has he? In what
+      way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In every way, sir,&mdash;sure was not it he that had improved, and
+      fostered, and <i>made</i> the town of Colambre?&mdash;no thanks to the
+      proprietor, nor to the young man whose name it bears, neither!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any porter, pray, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you&rsquo;d drink in London, for it&rsquo;s the
+      same you get there, I understand, from Cork. And I have some of my own
+      brewing, which, they say, you could not tell the difference between it and
+      Cork quality&mdash;if you&rsquo;d be pleased to try.&mdash;Harry, the
+      corkscrew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be extremely good; and the
+      landlord observed it was Mr. Burke encouraged him to learn to brew, and
+      lent him his own brewer for a time to teach him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Mr. Burke, I find, is <i>apropos</i> to porter, <i>apropos</i> to
+      salad, <i>apropos</i> to cutlets, <i>apropos</i> to every thing,&rdquo; said
+      Lord Colambre, smiling: &ldquo;he seems to be a very uncommon agent I suppose
+      you are a great favourite of his, and you do what you please with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir, I could not say that; Mr. Burke does not have favourites any
+      way; but, according to my deserts, I trust I stand well enough with him;
+      for, in truth, he is a right good agent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre still pressed for particulars; he was an Englishman, and a
+      stranger, he said, and did not exactly know what was meant in Ireland by a
+      good agent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, he is the man that will encourage the improving tenant; and show no
+      favour or affection, but justice, which comes even to all, and does best
+      for all at the long run; and, residing always in the country, like Mr.
+      Burke, and understanding country business, and going about continually
+      among the tenantry, he knows when to press for the rent, and when to leave
+      the money to lay out upon the land; and, according as they would want it,
+      can give a tenant a help or a check properly. Then no duty work called
+      for, no presents, nor <i>glove money</i>, nor <i>sealing money</i> even,
+      taken or offered; no underhand hints about proposals, when land would be
+      out of lease; but a considerable preference, if desarved, to the old
+      tenant, and if not, a fair advertisement, and the best offer and tenant
+      accepted: no screwing of the land to the highest penny, just to please the
+      head landlord for the minute, and ruin him at the end, by the tenant&rsquo;s
+      racking the land, and running off with the year&rsquo;s rent; nor no bargains to
+      his own relations or friends did Mr. Burke ever give or grant, but all
+      fair between landlord and tenant; and that&rsquo;s the thing that will last; and
+      that&rsquo;s what I call the good agent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre poured out a glass of wine, and begged the innkeeper to
+      drink the good agent&rsquo;s health, in which he was heartily pledged. &ldquo;I thank
+      your honour:&mdash;Mr. Burke&rsquo;s health! and long may he live over and
+      amongst us; he saved me from drink and ruin, when I was once inclined to
+      it, and made a man of me and all my family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The particulars we cannot stay to detail; this grateful man, however, took
+      pleasure in sounding the praises of his benefactor, and in raising him in
+      the opinion of the traveller.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you&rsquo;ve time, and are curious about such things, sir, perhaps you&rsquo;d
+      walk up to the school that Mrs. Burke has for the poor children; and look
+      at the market house, and see how clean he takes a pride to keep the town:
+      and any house in the town, from the priest to the parson&rsquo;s, that you&rsquo;d go
+      into, will give you the same character as I do of Mr. Burke; from the
+      brogue to the boot, all speak the same of him, and can say no other. God
+      for ever bless and keep him over us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon making further inquiries, every thing the innkeeper had said was
+      confirmed by different inhabitants of the village. Lord Colambre conversed
+      with the shopkeepers, with the cottagers; and, without making any alarming
+      inquiries, he obtained all the information he wanted. He went to the
+      village-school&mdash;a pretty, cheerful house, with a neat garden and a
+      play-green; met Mrs. Burke; introduced himself to her as a traveller. The
+      school was shown to him: it was just what it ought to be&mdash;neither too
+      much nor too little had been attempted; there was neither too much
+      interference nor too little attention. Nothing for exhibition; care to
+      teach well, without any vain attempt to teach in a wonderfully short time.
+      All that experience proves to be useful, in both Dr. Bell&rsquo;s and Mr.
+      Lancaster&rsquo;s modes of teaching, Mrs. Burke had adopted; leaving it to
+      &ldquo;graceless zealots&rdquo; to fight about the rest. That no attempts at
+      proselytism had been made, and that no illiberal distinctions had been
+      made in his school, Lord Colambre was convinced, in the best manner
+      possible, by seeing the children of protestants and catholics sitting on
+      the same benches, learning from the same books, and speaking to one
+      another with the same cordial familiarity. Mrs. Burke was an unaffected,
+      sensible woman, free from all party prejudices, and without ostentation,
+      desirous and capable of doing good. Lord Colambre was much pleased with
+      her, and very glad that she invited him to tea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Burke did not come in till late; for he had been detained portioning
+      out some meadows, which were of great consequence to the inhabitants of
+      the town. He brought home to tea with him the clergyman and the priest of
+      the parish, both of whom he had taken successful pains to accommodate with
+      the land which suited their respective convenience. The good terms on
+      which they seemed to be with each other, and with him, appeared to Lord
+      Colambre to do honour to Mr. Burke. All the favourable accounts his
+      lordship had received of this gentleman were confirmed by what he saw and
+      heard. After the clergyman and priest had taken leave, upon Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s expressing some surprise, mixed with satisfaction, at seeing
+      the harmony which subsisted between them, Mr. Burke assured him that this
+      was the same in many parts of Ireland. He observed, that &ldquo;as the suspicion
+      of ill-will never fails to produce it,&rdquo; so he had often found, that taking
+      it for granted that no ill-will exists, has the most conciliating effect.
+      He said, to please opposite parties, he used no arts; but he tried to make
+      all his neighbours live comfortably together, by making them acquainted
+      with each other&rsquo;s good qualities; by giving them opportunities of meeting
+      sociably, and, from time to time, of doing each other little services and
+      good offices. Fortunately, he had so much to do, he said, that he had no
+      time for controversy. He was a plain man, made it a rule not to meddle
+      with speculative points, and to avoid all irritating discussions: he was
+      not to rule the country, but to live in it, and make others live as
+      happily as he could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having nothing to conceal in his character, opinions, or circumstances,
+      Mr. Burke was perfectly open and unreserved in his manner and
+      conversation; freely answered all the traveller&rsquo;s inquiries, and took
+      pains to show him every thing he desired to see. Lord Colambre said he had
+      thoughts of settling in Ireland; and declared, with truth, that he had not
+      seen any part of the country he should like better to live in than this
+      neighbourhood. He went over most of the estate with Mr. Burke, and had
+      ample opportunities of convincing himself that this gentleman was indeed,
+      as the innkeeper had described him, &ldquo;a right good gentleman, and a right
+      good agent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paid Mr. Burke some just compliments on the state of the tenantry, and
+      the neat and flourishing appearance of the town of Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What pleasure it will give the proprietor when he sees all you have
+      done!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sir, don&rsquo;t speak of it!&mdash;that breaks my heart; he never has
+      shown the least interest in any thing I have done: he is quite
+      dissatisfied with me, because I have not ruined his tenantry, by forcing
+      them to pay more than the land is worth; because I have not squeezed money
+      from them, by fining down rents; and&mdash;but all this, as an Englishman,
+      sir, must be unintelligible to you. The end of the matter is, that,
+      attached as I am to this place and the people about me, and, as I hope,
+      the tenantry are to me,&mdash;I fear I shall he obliged to give up the
+      agency.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give up the agency! How so? you must not,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, and, for
+      the moment, he forgot himself; but Mr. Burke took this only for an
+      expression of good-will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must, I am afraid,&rdquo; continued he. &ldquo;My employer, Lord Clonbrony, is
+      displeased with me&mdash;continual calls for money come upon me from
+      England, and complaints of my slow remittances.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps Lord Clonbrony is in embarrassed circumstances,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never speak of my employer&rsquo;s affairs, sir,&rdquo; replied Mr. Burke; now for
+      the first time assuming an air of reserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg pardon, sir&mdash;I seem to have asked an indiscreet question.&rdquo; Mr.
+      Burke was silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lest my reserve should give you a false impression, I will add, sir,&rdquo;
+       resumed Mr. Burke, &ldquo;that I really am not acquainted with the state of his
+      lordship&rsquo;s affairs in general. I know only what belongs to the estate
+      under my own management. The principal part of his lordship&rsquo;s property,
+      the Clonbrony estate, is under another agent, Mr. Garraghty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Garraghty!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre; &ldquo;what sort of a person is he? But I
+      may take it for granted, that it cannot fall to the lot of one and the
+      same absentee to have two such agents as Mr. Burke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Burke bowed, and seemed pleased with the compliment, which he knew he
+      deserved&mdash;but not a word did he say of Mr. Garraghty; and Lord
+      Colambre, afraid of betraying himself by some other indiscreet question,
+      changed the conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next night the post brought a letter to Mr. Burke, from Lord
+      Clonbrony, which he gave to his wife as soon as he had read it, saying,
+      &ldquo;See the reward of all my services!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Burke glanced her eye over the letter, and being extremely fond of
+      her husband, and sensible of his deserving far different treatment, burst
+      into indignant exclamations&mdash;&ldquo;See the reward of all your services,
+      indeed!&mdash;What an unreasonable, ungrateful man!&mdash;So, this is the
+      thanks for all you have done for Lord Clonbrony!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He does not know what I have done, my dear. He never has seen what I have
+      done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More shame for him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He never, I suppose, looks over his accounts, or understands them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More shame for him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He listens to foolish reports, or misrepresentations, perhaps. He is at a
+      distance, and cannot find out the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More shame for him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take it quietly, my dear; we have the comfort of a good conscience. The
+      agency may be taken from me by this lord; but the sense of having done my
+      duty, no lord or man upon earth can give or take away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such a letter!&rdquo; said Mrs. Burke, taking it up again. &ldquo;Not even the
+      civility to write with his own hand!&mdash;only his signature to the
+      scrawl&mdash;looks as if it was written by a drunken man, does not it, Mr.
+      Evans?&rdquo; said she, showing the letter to Lord Colambre, who immediately
+      recognized the writing of Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does not look like the hand of a gentleman, indeed,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s own signature, let it be what it will,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Burke, looking closely at it; &ldquo;Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s own writing the signature
+      is, I am clear of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s son was clear of it, also; but he took care not to give
+      any opinion on that point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, pray read it, sir, read it,&rdquo; said Mrs. Burke; &ldquo;read it, pray; a
+      gentleman may write a bad hand, but no <i>gentleman</i> could write such a
+      letter as that to Mr. Burke&mdash;pray read it, sir; you who have seen
+      something of what he has done for the town of Colambre, and what he has
+      made of the tenantry and the estate of Lord Clonbrony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre read, and was convinced that his father had never written or
+      read the letter, but had signed it, trusting to Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay&rsquo;s having
+      expressed his sentiments properly.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;SIR,
+
+    &ldquo;As I have no farther occasion for your services, you will take
+    notice, that I hereby request you will forthwith hand over, on or
+    before the 1st of November next, your accounts, with the balance
+    due of the <i>hanging-gale</i> (which, I understand, is more than ought
+    to be at this season) to Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., College-green,
+    Dublin, who, in future, will act as agent, and shall get, by post,
+    immediately, a power of attorney for the same, entitling him to
+    receive and manage the Colambre, as well as the Clonbrony estate,
+    for,
+
+    &ldquo;Sir, your obedient humble servant,
+
+    &ldquo;CLONBRONY.
+
+    &ldquo;<i>Grosvenor-square</i>.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Though misrepresentation, caprice, or interest, might have induced Lord
+      Clonbrony to desire to change his agent, yet Lord Colambre knew that his
+      father never could have announced his wishes in such a style; and, as he
+      returned the letter to Mrs. Burke, he repeated, he was convinced that it
+      was impossible that any nobleman could have written such a letter; that it
+      must have been written by some inferior person; and that his lordship had
+      signed it without reading it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, I&rsquo;m sorry you showed that letter to Mr. Evans,&rdquo; said Mr. Burke;
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like to expose Lord Clonbrony; he is a well-meaning gentleman,
+      misled by ignorant or designing people; at all events, it is not for us to
+      expose him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has exposed himself,&rdquo; said Mrs. Burke; &ldquo;and the world should know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was very kind to me when I was a young man,&rdquo; said Mr. Burke; &ldquo;we must
+      not forget that now, because we are angry, my love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, my love, to be sure we should not; but who could have
+      recollected it just at this minute but yourself? And now, sir,&rdquo; turning to
+      Lord Colambre, &ldquo;you see what kind of a man this is: now is it not
+      difficult for me to bear patiently to see him ill-treated?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not only difficult, but impossible, I should think, madam,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre; &ldquo;I know even I, who am a stranger, cannot help feeling for both
+      of you, as you must see I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But half the world, who don&rsquo;t know him,&rdquo; continued Mrs. Burke, &ldquo;when they
+      hear that Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s agency is taken from him, will think perhaps
+      that he is to blame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, madam,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;that you need not fear; Mr. Burke may
+      safely trust to his character: from what I have within these two days seen
+      and heard, I am convinced that such is the respect he has deserved and
+      acquired, that no blame can touch him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, I thank you,&rdquo; said Mrs. Burke, the tears coming into her eyes: &ldquo;you
+      can judge&mdash;you do him justice; but there are so many who don&rsquo;t know
+      him, and who will decide without knowing any of the facts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, my dear, happens about every thing to every body,&rdquo; said Mr. Burke;
+      &ldquo;but we must have patience; time sets all judgments right, sooner or
+      later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the sooner the better,&rdquo; said Mrs. Burke. &ldquo;Mr. Evans, I hope you will
+      be so kind, if ever you hear this business talked of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Evans lives in Wales, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he is travelling through Ireland, my dear, and he said he should
+      return to Dublin, and, you know, there he certainly will hear it talked
+      of; and I hope he will do me the favour to state what he has seen and
+      knows to be the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be assured that I will do Mr. Burke justice&mdash;as far as it is in my
+      power,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, restraining himself much, that he might not
+      say more than became his assumed character. He took leave of this worthy
+      family that night, and, early the next morning, departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; thought he, as he drove away from this well-regulated and
+      flourishing place, &ldquo;how happy I might be, settled here with such a wife as&mdash;her
+      of whom I must think no more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pursued his way to Clonbrony, his father&rsquo;s other estate, which was at a
+      considerable distance from Colambre: he was resolved to know what kind of
+      agent Mr. Nicholas Garraghty might be, who was to supersede Mr. Burke,
+      and, by power of attorney, to be immediately entitled to receive and
+      manage the Colambre as well as the Clonbrony estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Towards the evening of the second day&rsquo;s journey, the driver of Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s hackney chaise stopped, and jumping off the wooden bar, on
+      which he had been seated, exclaimed, &ldquo;We&rsquo;re come to the bad step, now. The
+      bad road&rsquo;s beginning upon us, please your honour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad road! that is very uncommon in this country. I never saw such fine
+      roads as you have in Ireland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s true; and God bless your honour, that&rsquo;s sensible of that same, for
+      it&rsquo;s not what all the foreign quality I drive have the manners to notice.
+      God bless your honour! I heard you&rsquo;re a Welshman, but whether or no, I am
+      sure you are a jantleman, any way, Welsh or other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Notwithstanding the shabby great coat, the shrewd postilion perceived, by
+      our hero&rsquo;s language, that he was a gentleman. After much dragging at the
+      horses&rsquo; heads, and pushing and lifting, the carriage was got over what the
+      postilion said was the worst part of the <i>bad step</i>; but as the road
+      &ldquo;was not yet to say good,&rdquo; he continued walking beside the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only bad just hereabouts, and that by accident,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;on
+      account of there being no jantleman resident in it, nor near; but only a
+      bit of an under-agent, a great little rogue, who gets his own turn out of
+      the roads, and every thing else in life. I, Larry Brady, that am telling
+      your honour, have a good right to know; for myself, and my father, and my
+      brother, Pat Brady, the wheelwright, had once a farm under him; but was
+      ruined, horse and foot, all along with him, and cast out, and my brother
+      forced to fly the country, and is now working in some coachmaker&rsquo;s yard,
+      in London; banished he is!&mdash;and here am I, forced to be what I am&mdash;and
+      now that I&rsquo;m reduced to drive a hack, the agent&rsquo;s a curse to me still,
+      with these bad roads, killing my horses and wheels&mdash;and a shame to
+      the country, which I think more of&mdash;Bad luck to him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know your brother; he lives with Mr. Mordicai, in Long-Acre, in
+      London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, God bless you for that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They came at this time within view of a range of about four-and-twenty men
+      and boys, sitting astride on four-and-twenty heaps of broken stones, on
+      each side of the road; they were all armed with hammers, with which they
+      began to pound with great diligence and noise as soon as they saw the
+      carriage. The chaise passed between these batteries, the stones flying on
+      all sides.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Jem?&mdash;How are you Phil?&rdquo; said Larry. &ldquo;But hold your
+      hand, can&rsquo;t ye, while I stop and get the stones out of the horses&rsquo; <i>feet</i>.
+      So you&rsquo;re making up the rent, are you, for St. Dennis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoosh!&rdquo; said one of the pounders, coming close to the postilion, and
+      pointing his thumb back towards the chaise. &ldquo;Who have you in it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you need not scruple, he&rsquo;s a very honest man;&mdash;he&rsquo;s only a man
+      from North Wales, one Mr. Evans, an innocent jantleman, that&rsquo;s sent over
+      to travel up and down the country, to find is there any copper mines in
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know, Larry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I know very well, from one that was tould, and I <i>seen</i> him
+      tax the man of the King&rsquo;s Head with a copper half-crown at first sight,
+      which was only lead to look at, you&rsquo;d think, to them that was not skilful
+      in copper. So lend me a knife, till I cut a linchpin out of the hedge, for
+      this one won&rsquo;t go far.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Larry was making the linchpin, all scruple being removed, his
+      question about St. Dennis and the rent was answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, it&rsquo;s the rint, sure enough, we&rsquo;re pounding out for him; for he sent
+      the driver round last night-was-eight days, to warn us Old Nick would be
+      down a&rsquo;-Monday, to take a sweep among us; and there&rsquo;s only six clear days,
+      Saturday night, before the assizes, sure: so we must see and get it
+      finished any way, to clear the presentment again&rsquo; the swearing day, for he
+      and Paddy Hart was the overseers themselves, and Paddy is to swear to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;St. Dennis, is it? Then you&rsquo;ve one great comfort and security&mdash;that
+      he won&rsquo;t be <i>particular</i> about the swearing; for since ever he had
+      his head on his shoulders, an oath never stuck in St. Dennis&rsquo;s throat,
+      more than in his own brother, Old Nick&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His head upon his shoulders!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Pray, did you ever
+      hear that St. Dennis&rsquo;s head was off his shoulders?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It never was, plase your honour, to my knowledge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you never, among your saints, hear of St. Dennis carrying his head in
+      his hand?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>rael</i> saint!&rdquo; said the postilion, suddenly changing his tone,
+      and looking shocked. &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t be talking that way of the saints, plase
+      your honour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then of what St. Dennis were you talking just now?&mdash;Whom do you mean
+      by St. Dennis, and whom do you call Old Nick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old Nick,&rdquo; answered the postilion, coming close to the side of the
+      carriage, and whispering,&mdash;&ldquo;Old Nick, plase your honour, is our
+      nickname for one Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., of College-green, Dublin, and
+      St. Dennis is his brother Dennis, who is Old Nick&rsquo;s brother in all things,
+      and would fain be a saint, only he&rsquo;s a sinner. He lives just by here, in
+      the country, under-agent to Lord Clonbrony, as Old Nick is upper-agent&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+      only a joke among the people, that are not fond of them at all. Lord
+      Clonbrony himself is a very good jantleman, if he was not an absentee,
+      resident in London, leaving us and every thing to the likes of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre listened with all possible composure and attention; but the
+      postilion, having now made his linchpin of wood, and <i>fixed himself</i>,
+      he mounted his bar, and drove on, saying to Lord Colambre, as he looked at
+      the road-makers, &ldquo;Poor <i>cratures</i>! They couldn&rsquo;t keep their cattle
+      out of pound, or themselves out of jail, but by making this road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is road-making, then, a very profitable business!&mdash;Have road-makers
+      higher wages than other men in this part of the country?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is, and it is not&mdash;they have, and they have not&mdash;plase your
+      honour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, beca-ase you&rsquo;re an Englishman&mdash;that is, a Welshman&mdash;beg
+      your honour&rsquo;s pardon. But I&rsquo;ll tell you how that is, and I&rsquo;ll go slow over
+      these broken stones&mdash;for I can&rsquo;t go fast: it is where there&rsquo;s no
+      jantleman over these under-agents, as here, they do as they plase; and
+      when they have set the land they get rasonable from the head landlords, to
+      poor cratures at a rackrent, that they can&rsquo;t live and pay the rent, they
+      say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who says?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Them under-agents, that have no conscience at all. Not all&mdash;but <i>some</i>,
+      like Dennis, says, says he, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll get you a road to make up the rent:&rsquo;
+      that is, plase your honour, the agent gets them a presentment for so many
+      perches of road from the grand jury, at twice the price that would make
+      the road. And tenants are, by this means, as they take the road by
+      contract, at the price given by the county, able to pay all they get by
+      the job, over and above potatoes and salt, back again to the agent, for
+      the arrear on the land. Do I make your honour <i>sensible</i><a
+      href="#linknote-6" name="linknoteref-6" id="linknoteref-6"><small>6</small></a>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You make me much more sensible than I ever was before,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre: &ldquo;but is not this cheating the county?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, and suppose,&rdquo; replied Larry, &ldquo;is not it all for my good, and yours
+      too, plase your honour?&rdquo; said Larry, looking very shrewdly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, startled. &ldquo;What have I to do with it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t you to do with the roads as well as me, when you&rsquo;re travelling
+      upon them, plase your honour? And sure, they&rsquo;d never be got made at all,
+      if they wern&rsquo;t made this ways; and it&rsquo;s the best way in the wide world,
+      and the finest roads we have. And when the <i>rael</i> jantleman&rsquo;s
+      resident in the country, there&rsquo;s no jobbing can be, because they&rsquo;re then
+      the leading men on the grand jury; and these journeymen jantlemen are then
+      kept in order, and all&rsquo;s right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was much surprised at Larry&rsquo;s knowledge of the manner in
+      which county business is managed, as well as by his shrewd good sense: he
+      did not know that this is not uncommon in his rank of life in Ireland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Larry was speaking, Lord Colambre was looking from side to side at
+      the desolation of the prospect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So this is Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s estate, is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, all you see, and as far and farther than you can see. My Lord
+      Clonbrony wrote, and ordered plantations here, time back; and enough was
+      paid to labourers for ditching and planting. And, what next?&mdash;Why,
+      what did the under-agent do, but let the goats in through gaps, left o&rsquo;
+      purpose, to bark the trees, and then the trees was all banished. And next,
+      the cattle was let in trespassing, and winked at, till the land was all
+      poached: and then the land was waste, and cried down: and Saint Dennis
+      wrote up to Dublin to Old Nick, and he over to the landlord, how none
+      would take it, or bid any thing at all for it: so then it fell to him a
+      cheap bargain. Oh, the tricks of them! who knows &lsquo;em, if I don&rsquo;t?&rdquo;
+       Presently, Lord Colambre&rsquo;s attention was roused again, by seeing a man
+      running, as if for his life, across a bog, near the roadside: he leaped
+      over the ditch, and was upon the road in an instant. He seemed startled at
+      first, at the sight of the carriage; but, looking at the postilion, Larry
+      nodded, and he smiled and said, &ldquo;All&rsquo;s safe!&rdquo; &ldquo;Pray, my good friend, may I
+      ask what that is you have on your shoulder?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. &ldquo;<i>Plase</i>
+      your honour, it is only a private still, which I&rsquo;ve just caught out yonder
+      in the bog; and I&rsquo;m carrying it in with all speed to the gauger, to make a
+      discovery, that the jantleman may benefit by the reward: I expect he&rsquo;ll
+      make me a compliment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get up behind, and I&rsquo;ll give you a lift,&rdquo; said the postilion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you kindly&mdash;but better my legs!&rdquo; said the man; and, turning
+      down a lane, off he ran again, as fast as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Expect he&rsquo;ll make me a compliment,&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre, &ldquo;to make a
+      discovery!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, plase your honour; for the law is,&rdquo; said Larry, &ldquo;that, if an unlawful
+      still, that is, a still without licence for whiskey, is found, half the
+      benefit of the fine that&rsquo;s put upon the parish goes to him that made the
+      discovery: that&rsquo;s what that man is after; for he&rsquo;s an informer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should not have thought, from what I see of you,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre,
+      smiling, &ldquo;that you, Larry, would have offered an informer a lift.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, plase your honour!&rdquo; said Larry, smiling archly, &ldquo;would not I give the
+      laws a lift, when in my power?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Scarcely had he uttered these words, and scarcely was the informer out of
+      sight, when, across the same bog, and over the ditch, came another man, a
+      half kind of gentleman, with a red silk handkerchief about his neck, and a
+      silver-handled whip in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you see any man pass the road, friend?&rdquo; said he to the postilion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! who would I see? or why would I tell?&rdquo; replied Larry in a sulky tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, be smart!&rdquo; said the man with the silver whip, offering to put
+      half-a-crown into the postilion&rsquo;s hand; &ldquo;point me which way he took.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have none o&rsquo; your silver! don&rsquo;t touch me with it!&rdquo; said Larry. &ldquo;But,
+      if you&rsquo;ll take my advice, you&rsquo;ll strike across back, and follow the
+      fields, out to Killogenesawce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The exciseman set out again immediately, in an opposite direction to that
+      which the man who carried the still had taken. Lord Colambre now perceived
+      that the pretended informer had been running off to conceal a still of his
+      own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gauger, plase your honour,&rdquo; said Larry, looking back at Lord
+      Colambre; &ldquo;the gauger is a <i>still-hunting</i>!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you put him on a wrong scent!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, I told him no lie: I only said, &lsquo;If you&rsquo;ll take my advice.&rsquo; And why
+      was he such a fool as to take my advice, when I wouldn&rsquo;t take his fee?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So this is the way, Larry, you give a lift to the laws!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the laws would give a lift to me, plase your honour, may be I&rsquo;d do as
+      much by them. But it&rsquo;s only these revenue laws I mean; for I never, to my
+      knowledge, broke another commandment: but it&rsquo;s what no honest poor man
+      among his neighbours would scruple to take&mdash;a glass of <i>potsheen</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A glass of what, in the name of Heaven?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Potsheen</i>, plase your honour;&mdash;beca-ase it&rsquo;s the little
+      whiskey that&rsquo;s made in the private still or pot; and <i>sheen</i>, because
+      it&rsquo;s a fond word for whatsoever we&rsquo;d like, and for what we have little of,
+      and would make much of: after taking the glass of it, no man could go and
+      inform to ruin the <i>cratures</i>; for they all shelter on that estate
+      under favour of them that go shares, and make rent of &lsquo;em&mdash;but I&rsquo;d
+      never inform again&rsquo; &lsquo;em. And, after all, if the truth was known, and my
+      Lord Clonbrony should be informed against, and presented, for it&rsquo;s his
+      neglect is the bottom of the nuisance&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find all the blame is thrown upon this poor Lord Clonbrony,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because he is absent,&rdquo; said Larry: &ldquo;it would not be so was he <i>prisint</i>.
+      But your honour was talking to me about the laws. Your honour&rsquo;s a stranger
+      in this country, and astray about them things. Sure, why would I mind the
+      laws about whiskey, more than the quality, or the <i>jidge</i> on the
+      bench?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why! was not I <i>prisint</i> in the court-house myself, when the <i>jidge</i>
+      was on the bench judging a still, and across the court came in one with a
+      sly jug of <i>potsheen</i> for the <i>jidge</i> himself, who <i>prefarred</i>
+      it, when the right thing, to claret; and when I <i>seen</i> that, by the
+      laws! a man might talk himself dumb to me after again&rsquo; potsheen, or in
+      favour of the revenue, or revenue officers. And there they may go on, with
+      their gaugers, and their surveyors, and their supervisors, and their
+      watching officers, and their coursing officers, setting &lsquo;em one after
+      another, or one over the head of another, or what way they will&mdash;we
+      can baffle and laugh at &lsquo;em. Didn&rsquo;t I know, next door to our inn, last
+      year, ten <i>watching officers</i> set upon one distiller, and he was too
+      cunning for them; and it will always be so, while ever the people think it
+      no sin. No, till then, not all their dockets and permits signify a rush,
+      or a turf. And the gauging rod, even! who fears it? They may spare that
+      rod, for it will never mend the child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      How much longer Larry&rsquo;s dissertation on the distillery laws would have
+      continued, had not his ideas been interrupted, we cannot guess; but he saw
+      he was coming to a town, and he gathered up the reins, and plied the whip,
+      ambitious to make a figure in the eyes of its inhabitants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This <i>town</i> consisted of one row of miserable huts, sunk beneath the
+      side of the road, the mud walls crooked in every direction; some of them
+      opening in wide cracks, or zigzag fissures, from top to bottom, as if
+      there had just been an earthquake&mdash;all the roofs sunk in various
+      places&mdash;thatch off, or overgrown with grass&mdash;no chimneys, the
+      smoke making its way through a hole in the roof, or rising in clouds from
+      the top of the open door&mdash;dunghills before the doors, and green
+      standing puddles&mdash;squalid children, with scarcely rags to cover them,
+      gazing at the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nugent&rsquo;s town,&rdquo; said the postilion, &ldquo;once a snug place, when my Lady
+      Clonbrony was at home to white-wash it, and the like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As they drove by, some men and women put their heads through the smoke out
+      of the cabins; pale women, with long, black, or yellow locks&mdash;men
+      with countenances and figures bereft of hope and energy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wretched, wretched people!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it&rsquo;s not their fault, neither,&rdquo; said Larry; &ldquo;for my uncle&rsquo;s one of
+      them, and as thriving and hard a working man as could be in all Ireland,
+      he was, <i>afore</i> he was tramped under foot, and his heart broke. I was
+      at his funeral, this time last year; and for it, may the agent&rsquo;s own
+      heart, if he has any, burn in&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre interrupted this denunciation by touching Larry&rsquo;s shoulder,
+      and asking some question, which, as Larry did not distinctly comprehend,
+      he pulled up the reins, and the various noises of the vehicle stopped
+      suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not hear well, plase your honour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are those people?&rdquo; pointing to a man and woman, curious figures, who
+      had come out of a cabin, the door of which the woman, who came out last,
+      locked, and carefully hiding the key in the thatch, turned her back upon
+      the man, and they walked away in different directions: the woman bending
+      under a huge bundle on her back, covered by a yellow petticoat turned over
+      her shoulders; from the top of this bundle the head of an infant appeared;
+      a little boy, almost naked, followed her with a kettle, and two girls, one
+      of whom could but just walk, held her hand and clung to her ragged
+      petticoat; forming, all together, a complete group of beggars. The woman
+      stopped, and looked after the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man was a Spanish-looking figure, with gray hair; a wallet hung at the
+      end of a stick over one shoulder, a reaping-hook in the other hand: he
+      walked off stoutly, without ever casting a look behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A kind harvest to you, John Dolan,&rdquo; cried the postilion, &ldquo;and success to
+      ye, Winny, with the quality. There&rsquo;s a luck-penny for the child to begin
+      with,&rdquo; added he, throwing the child a penny. &ldquo;Your honour, they&rsquo;re only
+      poor <i>cratures</i> going up the country to beg, while the man goes over
+      to reap the harvest in England. Nor this would not be, neither, if the
+      lord was in it to give &lsquo;em <i>employ</i>. That man, now, was a good and
+      willing <i>slave</i> in his day: I mind him working with myself in the
+      shrubberies at Clonbrony Castle, when I was a boy&mdash;but I&rsquo;ll not be
+      detaining your honour, now the road&rsquo;s better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion drove on at a good rate for some time, till he came to a
+      piece of the road freshly covered with broken stones, where he was obliged
+      again to go slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They overtook a string of cars, on which were piled up high, beds, tables,
+      chairs, trunks, boxes, band-boxes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you, Finnucan? you&rsquo;ve fine loading there&mdash;from Dublin, are
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Bray.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what news?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Great</i> news and bad for Old Nick, or some belonging to him, thanks
+      be to Heaven! for myself hates him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s happened him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His sister&rsquo;s husband that&rsquo;s failed, the great grocer that was, the man
+      that had the wife that <i>ow&rsquo;d</i><a href="#linknote-7"
+       name="linknoteref-7" id="linknoteref-7"><small>7</small></a> the fine
+      house near Bray, that they got that time the parliament <i>flitted</i>,
+      and that I seen in her carriage flaming&mdash;well, it&rsquo;s all out; they&rsquo;re
+      all <i>done up</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut! is that all? then they&rsquo;ll thrive, and set up again grander than
+      ever, I&rsquo;ll engage: have not they Old Nick for an attorney at their back? a
+      good warrant?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, trust him for that! he won&rsquo;t go <i>security</i>, nor pay a farthing,
+      for his <i>shister</i>, nor wouldn&rsquo;t, was she his father; I heard him
+      telling her so, which I could not have done in his place, at that time,
+      and she crying as if her heart would break, and I standing by in the
+      parlour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>neger</i><a href="#linknote-8" name="linknoteref-8"
+       id="linknoteref-8"><small>8</small></a>! And did he speak that way, and
+      you by?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, did he; and said, &lsquo;Mrs. Raffarty,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;it&rsquo;s all your own fault;
+      you&rsquo;re an extravagant fool, and ever was, and I wash my hands of you.&rsquo;
+      that was the word he spoke; and she answered, and said, &lsquo;And mayn&rsquo;t I send
+      the beds and blankets?&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;and what I can, by the cars, out of the
+      way of the creditors, to Clonbrony Castle? and won&rsquo;t you let me hide
+      there, from the shame, till the bustle&rsquo;s over?&rsquo; &lsquo;You may do that,&rsquo; says
+      he, &lsquo;for what I care; but remember,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;that I&rsquo;ve the first claim
+      to them goods;&rsquo; and that&rsquo;s all he would grant. So they are coming down all
+      o&rsquo; Monday&mdash;them are the band-boxes, and all&mdash;to settle it; and
+      faith it was a pity of her! to hear her sobbing, and to see her own
+      brother speak and look so hard! and she a lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure, she&rsquo;s not a lady born, no more than himself,&rdquo; said Larry; &ldquo;but
+      that&rsquo;s no excuse for him. His heart&rsquo;s as hard as that stone,&rdquo; said Larry;
+      &ldquo;and my own people knew that long ago, and now his own know it: and what
+      right have we to complain, since he&rsquo;s as bad to his own flesh and blood as
+      to us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With this consolation, and with a &ldquo;God speed you,&rdquo; given to the carman,
+      Larry was driving off; but the carman called to him, and pointed to a
+      house, at the corner of which, on a high pole, was swinging an iron sign
+      of three horse-shoes, set in a crooked frame, and at the window hung an
+      empty bottle, proclaiming whiskey within.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don&rsquo;t care if I do,&rdquo; said Larry; &ldquo;for I&rsquo;ve no other comfort left
+      me in life now. I beg your honour&rsquo;s pardon, sir, for a minute,&rdquo; added he,
+      throwing the reins into the carriage to Lord Colambre, as he leaped down.
+      All remonstrance and power of lungs to reclaim him were vain! He darted
+      into the whiskey-house with the carman&mdash;re-appeared before Lord
+      Colambre could accomplish getting out, remounted his seat, and, taking the
+      reins, &ldquo;I thank your honour,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll bring you into Clonbrony
+      before it&rsquo;s pitch-dark, though it&rsquo;s nightfall, and that&rsquo;s four good miles,
+      but &lsquo;a spur in the head is worth two in the heel.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Larry, to demonstrate the truth of his favourite axiom, drove off at such
+      a furious rate over great stones left in the middle of the road by carmen,
+      who had been driving in the gudgeons of their axletrees to hinder them
+      from lacing<a href="#linknote-9" name="linknoteref-9" id="linknoteref-9"><small>9</small></a>,
+      that Lord Colambre thought life and limb in imminent danger; and feeling
+      that, at all events, the jolting and bumping was past endurance, he had
+      recourse to Larry&rsquo;s shoulder, and shook and pulled, and called to him to
+      go slower, but in vain: at last the wheel struck full against a heap of
+      stones at a turn of the road, the wooden linchpin came off, and the chaise
+      was overset: Lord Colambre was a little bruised, but glad to escape
+      without fractured bones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your honour&rsquo;s pardon,&rdquo; said Larry, completely sobered; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m as glad
+      as the best pair of boots ever I see, to see your honour nothing the worse
+      for it. It was the linchpin, and them barrows of loose stones, that ought
+      to be fined any way, if there was any justice in the country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The pole is broke; how are we to get on?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Murder! murder!&mdash;and no smith nearer than Clonbrony; nor rope even.
+      It&rsquo;s a folly to talk, we can&rsquo;t get to Clonbrony, nor stir a step backward
+      or forward the night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, then, do you mean to leave me all night in the middle of the road?&rdquo;
+       cried Lord Colambre, quite exasperated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it me? plase your honour. I would not use any jantleman so ill, <i>barring</i>
+      I could do no other,&rdquo; replied the postilion, coolly: then, leaping across
+      the ditch, or, as he called it, the <i>gripe</i> of the ditch, he
+      scrambled up, and while he was scrambling, said, &ldquo;If your honour will lend
+      me your hand, till I pull you up the back of the ditch, the horses will
+      stand while we go. I&rsquo;ll find you as pretty a lodging for the night, with a
+      widow of a brother of my shister&rsquo;s husband that was, as ever you slept in
+      your life; for Old Nick or St. Dennis has not found &lsquo;em out yet: and your
+      honour will he, no compare, snugger than at the inn at Clonbrony, which
+      has no roof, the devil a stick. But where will I get your honour&rsquo;s hand;
+      for it&rsquo;s coming on so dark, I can&rsquo;t see rightly. There, you&rsquo;re up now
+      safe. Yonder candle&rsquo;s the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and ask whether they can give us a night&rsquo;s lodging.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it <i>ask</i>? when I see the light!&mdash;Sure they&rsquo;d be proud to
+      give the traveller all the beds in the house, let alone one. Take care of
+      the potatoe furrows, that&rsquo;s all, and follow me straight. I&rsquo;ll go on to
+      meet the dog, who knows me, and might be strange to your honour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kindly welcome,&rdquo; were the first words Lord Colambre heard when he
+      approached the cottage; and &ldquo;kindly welcome&rdquo; was in the sound of the voice
+      and in the countenance of the old woman who came out, shading her
+      rush-candle from the wind, and holding it so as to light the path. When he
+      entered the cottage, he saw a cheerful fire and a neat pretty young woman
+      making it blaze; she curtsied, put her spinning-wheel out of the way, set
+      a stool by the fire for the stranger, and repeating, in a very low tone of
+      voice, &ldquo;Kindly welcome, sir,&rdquo; retired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Put down some eggs, dear, there&rsquo;s plenty in the bowl,&rdquo; said the old
+      woman, calling to her; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do the bacon. Was not we lucky to be up?&mdash;The
+      boy&rsquo;s gone to bed, but waken him,&rdquo; said she, turning to the postilion;
+      &ldquo;and he&rsquo;ll help you with the chay, and put your horses in the bier for the
+      night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No: Larry chose to go on to Clonbrony with the horses, that he might get
+      the chaise mended betimes for his honour. The table was set; clean
+      trenchers, hot potatoes, milk, eggs, bacon, and &ldquo;kindly welcome to all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Set the salt, dear; and the butter, love: where&rsquo;s your head, Grace,
+      dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre, looking up: and, to apologize for his
+      involuntary exclamation, he added, &ldquo;Is Grace a common name in Ireland?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t say, plase your honour; but it was give her by Lady Clonbrony,
+      from a niece of her own, God bless her! and a very kind lady she was to us
+      and to all when she was living in it; but those times are gone past,&rdquo; said
+      the old woman, with a sigh. The young woman sighed too; and, sitting down
+      by the fire, began to count the notches in a little bit of stick, which
+      she held in her hand; and after she had counted them, sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But don&rsquo;t be sighing, Grace, now,&rdquo; said the old woman; &ldquo;sighs is bad
+      sauce for the traveller&rsquo;s supper; and we won&rsquo;t be troubling him with
+      more,&rdquo; added she, turning to Lord Colambre with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is your egg done to your liking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfectly, thank you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I wish it was a chicken, for your sake, which it should have been,
+      and roast too, had we time. I wish I could see you eat another egg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more, thank you, my good lady; I never ate a better supper, nor
+      received a more hospitable welcome.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the welcome is all we have to offer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask what that is?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, looking at the notched
+      stick, which the young woman held in her hand, and on which her eyes were
+      still fixed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a <i>tally</i>, plase your honour. Oh, you&rsquo;re a foreigner;&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+      the way the labourers do keep the account of the day&rsquo;s work with the
+      overseer, the bailiff; a notch for every day the bailiff makes on his
+      stick, and the labourer the like on his stick, to tally; and when we come
+      to make up the account, it&rsquo;s by the notches we go. And there&rsquo;s been a
+      mistake, and is a dispute here between our boy and the overseer: and she
+      was counting the boy&rsquo;s tally, that&rsquo;s in bed, tired, for in truth he&rsquo;s
+      overworked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you want any thing more from me, mother?&rdquo; said the girl, rising and
+      turning her head away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, child; get away, for your heart&rsquo;s full.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She went instantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is the boy her brother?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; he&rsquo;s her bachelor,&rdquo; said the old woman, lowering her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her bachelor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is, her sweetheart: for she is not my daughter, though you heard her
+      call me mother. The boy&rsquo;s my son; but I am <i>afeard</i> they must give it
+      up; for they&rsquo;re too poor, and the times is hard, and the agent&rsquo;s harder
+      than the times: there&rsquo;s two of them, the under and the upper; and they
+      grind the substance of one between them, and then blow one away like
+      chaff; but we&rsquo;ll not be talking of that, to spoil your honour&rsquo;s night&rsquo;s
+      rest. The room&rsquo;s ready, and here&rsquo;s the rushlight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She showed him into a very small but neat room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a comfortable-looking bed!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, these red check curtains,&rdquo; said she, letting them down; &ldquo;these have
+      lasted well: they were give me by a good friend, now far away, over the
+      seas&mdash;my Lady Clonbrony; and made by the prettiest hands ever you
+      see, her niece&rsquo;s, Miss Grace Nugent&rsquo;s, and she a little child that time;
+      sweet love! all gone!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colambre did what he
+      could to appear indifferent. She set down the candle, and left the room;
+      Lord Colambre went to bed, but he lay awake,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Revolving sweet and bitter thoughts&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, every thing prepared for her
+      guest by the hospitable hostess, who thinking the gentleman would take tea
+      to his breakfast, had sent off a <i>gossoon</i> by the <i>first light</i>
+      to Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a <i>quarter of sugar</i>, and a loaf
+      of white bread; and there was on the little table good cream, milk,
+      butter, eggs&mdash;all the promise of an excellent breakfast. It was a <i>fresh</i>
+      morning, and there was a pleasant fire on the hearth, neatly swept up. The
+      old woman was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a little skreen of
+      whitewashed wall, built out into the room, for the purpose of keeping
+      those who sat at the fire from the <i>blast of the door</i>. There was a
+      loop-hole in this wall, to let the light in, just at the height of a
+      person&rsquo;s head, who was sitting near the chimney. The rays of the morning
+      sun now came through it, shining across the face of the old woman, as she
+      sat knitting: Lord Colambre thought he had seldom seen a more agreeable
+      countenance, intelligent eyes, benevolent smile, a natural expression of
+      cheerfulness, subdued by age and misfortune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A good morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you got the night well?&mdash;A
+      fine day for us this holyday morning; my Grace is gone to early prayers,
+      so your honour will be content with an old woman to make your tea. Oh, let
+      me put in plenty of tea, for it will never be good; and if your honour
+      takes stirabout, an old hand will engage to make that to your liking, any
+      way; for by great happiness, we have what will just answer for you of the
+      nicest meal the miller made my Grace a compliment of, last time she went
+      to the mill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre observed, that this miller had good taste; and his lordship
+      paid some compliment to Grace&rsquo;s beauty, which the old woman received with
+      a smile, but turned off the conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said she, looking out of the window, &ldquo;is not that there a nice
+      little garden the boy dug for her and me, at his breakfast and dinner
+      hours? Ah! he&rsquo;s a good boy, and good warrant to work; and the good son <i>desarves</i>
+      the good wife, and it&rsquo;s he that will make the good husband; and with my
+      good-will he, and no other, shall get her, and with her good-will the
+      same; and I bid &lsquo;em keep up their heart, and hope the best, for there&rsquo;s no
+      use in fearing the worst till it comes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre wished very much to know the worst. &ldquo;If you would not think
+      a stranger impertinent for asking,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and if it would not be
+      painful to you to explain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, impertinent, your honour! it&rsquo;s very kind&mdash;and, sure, none&rsquo;s a
+      stranger to one&rsquo;s heart, that feels for one. And for myself, I can talk of
+      my troubles without thinking of them. So, I&rsquo;ll tell you all&mdash;if the
+      worst comes to the worst&mdash;all that is, is, that we must quit, and
+      give up this little snug place, and house, and farm, and all, to the agent&mdash;which
+      would be hard on us, and me a widow, when my husband did all that is done
+      to the land; and if your honour was a judge, you could see, if you stepped
+      out, there has been a deal done, and built the house, and all&mdash;but it
+      plased Heaven to take him. Well, he was too good for this world, and I&rsquo;m
+      satisfied&mdash;I&rsquo;m not saying a word again&rsquo; that&mdash;I trust we shall
+      meet in heaven, and be happy, surely. And, meantime, here&rsquo;s my boy, that
+      will make me as happy as ever widow was on earth&mdash;if the agent will
+      let him. And I can&rsquo;t think the agent, though they that know him best call
+      him Old Nick, would be so wicked to take from us that which he never gave
+      us. The good lord himself granted us the <i>lase</i>; the life&rsquo;s dropped,
+      and the years is out; but we had a promise of renewal in writing from the
+      landlord. God bless him! if he was not away, he&rsquo;d be a good gentleman, and
+      we&rsquo;d be happy and safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you have a promise in writing of a renewal, surely you are safe,
+      whether your landlord is absent or present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, no! that makes a great <i>differ</i>, when there&rsquo;s no eye or hand
+      over the agent. I would not wish to speak or think ill of him or any man;
+      but was he an angel, he could not know to do the tenantry justice, the way
+      he is living always in Dublin, and coming down to the country only the
+      receiving days, to make a sweep among us, and gather up the rents in a
+      hurry, and he in such haste back to town&mdash;can just stay to count over
+      our money, and give the receipts. Happy for us if we get that same!&mdash;but
+      can&rsquo;t expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind our
+      improvements, any more than listen to our complaints! Oh, there&rsquo;s great
+      excuse for the gentleman, if that was any comfort for us,&rdquo; added she,
+      smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, if he does not live amongst you himself, has not he some under
+      agent, who lives in the country?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he should know your concerns: does he mind them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He should know&mdash;he should know better; but as to minding our
+      concerns, your honour knows,&rdquo; continued she, smiling again, &ldquo;every one in
+      this world must mind their own concerns: and it would be a good world, if
+      it was even so. There&rsquo;s a great deal in all things, that don&rsquo;t appear at
+      first sight. Mr. Dennis wanted Grace for a wife for his bailiff, but she
+      would not have him; and Mr. Dennis was very sweet to her himself&mdash;but
+      Grace is rather high with him as proper, and he has a grudge <i>again&rsquo;&rsquo;</i>
+      us ever since. Yet, indeed, there,&rdquo; added she, after another pause, &ldquo;as
+      you say, I think we are safe; for we have that memorandum in writing, with
+      a pencil, given under his own hand, on the back of the <i>lase</i> to me,
+      by the same token when my good lord had his foot on the step of the coach,
+      going away; and I&rsquo;ll never forget the smile of her that got that good turn
+      done for me, Miss Grace. And just when she was going to England and
+      London, and, young as she was, to have the thought to stop and turn to the
+      likes of me! Oh, then, if you could see her, and know her, as I did! <i>That</i>
+      was the comforting angel upon earth&mdash;look, and voice, and heart, and
+      all! Oh, that she was here present, this minute!&mdash;But did you scald
+      yourself?&rdquo; said the widow to Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Sure you must have scalded
+      yourself; for you poured the kettle straight over your hand, and it
+      boiling!&mdash;O <i>deear</i>; to think of so young a gentleman&rsquo;s hand
+      shaking so like my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Luckily, to prevent her pursuing her observations from the hand to the
+      face, which might have betrayed more than Lord Colambre wished she should
+      know, her own Grace came in at this instant&mdash;&ldquo;There it&rsquo;s for you,
+      safe, mother dear&mdash;the <i>lase</i>!&rdquo; said Grace, throwing a packet
+      into her lap. The old woman lifted up her hands to heaven, with the lease
+      between them&mdash;&ldquo;Thanks be to Heaven!&rdquo; Grace passed on, and sunk down
+      on the first seat she could reach. Her face flushed, and, looking much
+      fatigued, she loosened the strings of her bonnet and cloak&mdash;&ldquo;Then,
+      I&rsquo;m tired;&rdquo; but, recollecting herself, she rose, and curtsied to the
+      gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What tired ye, dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, after prayers, we had to go&mdash;for the agent was not at prayers,
+      nor at home for us, when we called&mdash;we had to go all the way up to
+      the castle; and there, by great good luck, we found Mr. Nick Garraghty
+      himself, come from Dublin, and the <i>lase</i> in his hands; and he sealed
+      it up that way, and handed it to me very civil. I never saw him so good&mdash;though
+      he offered me a glass of spirits, which was not manners to a decent young
+      woman, in a morning&mdash;as Brian noticed after. Brian would not take any
+      either, nor never does. We met Mr. Dennis and the driver coming home; and
+      he says, the rent must be paid to-morrow, or, instead of renewing, he&rsquo;ll
+      seize, and sell all. Mother dear, I would have dropped with the walk, but
+      for Brian&rsquo;s arm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a wonder, dear, what makes you so weak, that used to be so strong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if we can sell the cow for any thing at all to Mr. Dennis, since his
+      eye is set upon her, better let him have her mother, dear; and that and my
+      yarn, which Mrs. Garraghty says she&rsquo;ll allow me for, will make up the rent&mdash;and
+      Brian need not talk of America. But it must be in golden guineas, the
+      agent will take the rent no other way; and you won&rsquo;t get a guinea for less
+      than five shillings. Well, even so, it&rsquo;s easy selling my new gown to one
+      that covets it, and that will give me in exchange the price of the gold;
+      or, suppose that would not do, add this cloak&mdash;it&rsquo;s handsome, and I
+      know a friend would be glad to take it, and I&rsquo;d part it as ready as look
+      at it&mdash;Any thing at all, sure, rather than that he should be forced
+      to talk of emigrating: or, oh, worse again, listing for the bounty&mdash;to
+      save us from the cant or the jail, by going to the hospital, or his grave,
+      maybe&mdash;oh, mother!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, child! This is what makes you weak, fretting. Don&rsquo;t be that way. Sure
+      here&rsquo;s the <i>lase</i>, and that&rsquo;s good comfort; and the soldiers will be
+      gone out of Clonbrony to-morrow, and then that&rsquo;s off your mind. And as to
+      America, it&rsquo;s only talk&mdash;I won&rsquo;t let him, he&rsquo;s dutiful; and would
+      sooner sell my dresser, and down to my bed, dear, than see you sell any
+      thing of yours, love. Promise me you won&rsquo;t. Why didn&rsquo;t Brian come home all
+      the way with you, Grace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would have seen me home,&rdquo; said Grace, &ldquo;only that he went up a piece of
+      the mountain for some stones or ore for the gentleman,&mdash;for he had
+      the manners to think of him this morning, though, shame for me, I had not,
+      when I come in, or I would not have told you all this, and he by. See,
+      there <i>he</i> is, mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brian came in very hot, out of breath, with his hat full of stones. &ldquo;Good
+      morrow to your honour. I was in bed last night; and sorry they did not
+      call me up to be of <i>sarvice</i>. Larry was telling us, this morning,
+      your honour&rsquo;s from Wales, and looking for mines in Ireland, and I heard
+      talk that there was one on our mountain&mdash;may be, you&rsquo;d be <i>curous</i>
+      to see, and so I brought the best I could, but I&rsquo;m no judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I, neither,&rdquo; thought Lord Colambre; but he thanked the young man, and
+      determined to avail himself of Larry&rsquo;s misconception of false report;
+      examined the stones very gravely, and said, &ldquo;This promises well. Lapis
+      caliminaris, schist, plum-pudding stone, rhomboidal, crystal, blend,
+      garrawachy,&rdquo; and all the strange names he could think of, jumbling them
+      together at a venture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>lase</i>!&rdquo; cried the young man, with joy sparkling in his eyes, as
+      his mother held up the packet. &ldquo;Lend me the papers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover&mdash;&ldquo;Ay, I know it&rsquo;s the
+      <i>lase</i> sure enough. But stay, where&rsquo;s the memorandum?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s there, sure,&rdquo; said his mother, &ldquo;where my lord&rsquo;s pencil writ it. I
+      don&rsquo;t read. Grace, dear, look.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man put it into her hands, and stood without power to utter a
+      syllable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s not here! It&rsquo;s gone!&mdash;no sign of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gracious Heaven! that can&rsquo;t be,&rdquo; said the old woman, putting on her
+      spectacles; &ldquo;let me see,&rsquo;&mdash;I remember the very spot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s taken away&mdash;it&rsquo;s rubbed clean out!&mdash;Oh, wasn&rsquo;t I fool?&mdash;But
+      who could have thought he&rsquo;d be the villain!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man seemed neither to see nor hear, but to be absorbed in
+      thought. Grace, with her eyes fixed upon him, grew as pale as death.&mdash;&ldquo;He&rsquo;ll
+      go&mdash;he&rsquo;s gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She&rsquo;s gone!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, and the mother just caught her in her
+      arms as she was falling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The chaise is ready, plase your honour,&rdquo; said Larry, coming into the
+      room. &ldquo;Death! what&rsquo;s here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Air!&mdash;she&rsquo;s coming to,&rdquo; said the young man&mdash;&ldquo;Take a drop of
+      water, my own Grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Young man, I promise you,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, (speaking in the tone of
+      a master,) striking the young man&rsquo;s shoulder, who was kneeling at Grace&rsquo;s
+      feet, but recollecting and restraining himself, he added, in a quiet voice&mdash;&ldquo;I
+      promise you I shall never forget the hospitality I have received in this
+      house, and I am sorry to be obliged to leave you in distress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These words uttered with difficulty, he hurried out of the house, and into
+      his carriage. &ldquo;Go back to them,&rdquo; said he to the postilion: &ldquo;go back and
+      ask whether, if I should stay a day or two longer in this country, they
+      would let me return at night and lodge with them. And here, man, stay,
+      take this,&rdquo; putting money into his hands, &ldquo;for the good woman of the
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion went in, and returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She won&rsquo;t at all&mdash;I knew she would not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I am obliged to her for the night&rsquo;s lodging she did give me; I have
+      no right to expect more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&mdash;Sure she bid me tell you,&mdash;&lsquo;and welcome to the
+      lodging; for,&rsquo; said she, &lsquo;he&rsquo;s a kind-hearted gentleman;&rsquo; but here&rsquo;s the
+      money; it&rsquo;s that I was telling you she would not have at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. Now, my good friend, Larry, drive me to Clonbrony, and do not
+      say another word, for I&rsquo;m not in a talking humour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony. Clonbrony was now a
+      melancholy scene. The houses, which had been built in a better style of
+      architecture than usual, were in a ruinous condition; the dashing was off
+      the walls, no glass in the windows, and many of the roofs without slates.
+      For the stillness of the place Lord Colambre in some measure accounted, by
+      considering that it was holiday; therefore, of course, all the shops were
+      shut up, and all the people at prayers. He alighted at the inn, which
+      completely answered Larry&rsquo;s representation of it. Nobody to be seen but a
+      drunken waiter, who, as well as he could articulate, informed Lord
+      Colambre, that &ldquo;his mistress was in her bed since Thursday-was-a-week; the
+      hostler at the <i>wash-woman&rsquo;s</i>, and the cook at second prayers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church gate was locked and
+      broken&mdash;a calf, two pigs, and an ass, in the church-yard; and several
+      boys (with more of skin apparent than clothes) were playing at pitch and
+      toss upon a tombstone, which, upon nearer observation, he saw was the
+      monument of his own family. One of the boys came to the gate, and told
+      Lord Colambre, &ldquo;There was no use in going into the church, because there
+      was no church there; nor had not been this twelvemonth; beca-ase there was
+      no curate: and the parson was away always, since the lord was at home&mdash;that
+      is, was not at home&mdash;he nor the family.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting a considerable
+      time, he gave up the point&mdash;he could not get any dinner&mdash;and in
+      the evening he walked out again into the town. He found several
+      public-houses, however, open, which were full of people; all of them as
+      busy and as noisy as possible. He observed that the interest was created
+      by an advertisement of several farms on the Clonbrony estate, to be set by
+      Nicholas Garraghty, Esq. He could not help smiling at his being witness <i>incognito</i>
+      to various schemes for outwitting the agents, and defrauding the landlord;
+      but, on a sudden, the scene was changed; a boy ran in, crying out, that
+      &ldquo;St. Dennis was riding down the hill into the town; and, if you would not
+      have the licence,&rdquo; said the boy, &ldquo;take care of yourself, Brannagan.&rdquo; &ldquo;<i>If
+      you wouldn&rsquo;t have the licence</i>,&rdquo; Lord Colambre perceived, by what
+      followed, meant, &ldquo;<i>If you have not a licence</i>.&rdquo; Brannagan immediately
+      snatched an untasted glass of whiskey from a customer&rsquo;s lips (who cried,
+      murder!), gave it and the bottle he held in his hand to his wife, who
+      swallowed the spirits, and ran away with the bottle and glass into some
+      back hole; whilst the bystanders laughed, saying, &ldquo;Well thought of,
+      Peggy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Clear out all of you at the back door, for the love of Heaven, if you
+      wouldn&rsquo;t be the ruin of me,&rdquo; said the man of the house, setting a ladder
+      to a corner of the shop. &ldquo;Phil, hoist me up the keg to the loft,&rdquo; added
+      he, running up the ladder; &ldquo;and one of <i>yees</i> step up street, and
+      give Rose McGivney notice, for she&rsquo;s selling, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The keg was hoisted up; the ladder removed; the shop cleared of all the
+      customers; the shutters shut; the door barred; the counter cleaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lift your stones, sir, if you plase,&rdquo; said the wife, as she rubbed the
+      counter, &ldquo;and say nothing of what you <i>seen</i> at all; but that you&rsquo;re
+      a stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging, if you&rsquo;re questioned, or
+      waiting to see Mr. Dennis. There&rsquo;s no smell of whiskey in it now, is
+      there, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this&mdash;he could
+      only hope no one would perceive it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, and if he would, the smell of whiskey was nothing,&rdquo; as the wife
+      affirmed, &ldquo;for it was every where in nature, and no proof again&rsquo; any one,
+      good or bad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, St. Dennis may come when he will, or Old Nick himself!&rdquo; So she tied
+      up a blue handkerchief over her head, and had the toothache &ldquo;very bad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s safe in bed,&rdquo; said the wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In bed! When?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the handkerchief over my
+      face. Within the room, look, he is snug.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on the chest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A knock, a loud knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;St. Dennis himself!&mdash;Stay, till I unbar the door,&rdquo; said the woman;
+      and, making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning and saying. &ldquo;We
+      was all done up for the night, <i>plase</i> your honour, and myself with
+      the toothache, very bad&mdash;And the lodger, that&rsquo;s going to take an egg
+      only, before he&rsquo;d go into his bed. My man&rsquo;s in it, and asleep long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank disappointment, Mr.
+      Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked into <i>the room</i>, saw the good man
+      of the house asleep, heard him snore, and then, returning, asked Lord
+      Colambre, &ldquo;who he was, and what brought him there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Our hero said, he was from England, and a traveller; and now, bolder grown
+      as a geologist, he talked of his specimens, and his hopes of finding a
+      mine in the neighbouring mountains; then adopting, as well as he could,
+      the servile tone and abject manner, in which he found Mr. Dennis was to be
+      addressed, &ldquo;he hoped he might get encouragement from the gentlemen at the
+      head of the estate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To bore, is it?&mdash;Well, don&rsquo;t <i>bore</i> me about it. I can&rsquo;t give
+      you any answer now, my good friend; I am engaged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Out he strutted. &ldquo;Stick to him up the town, if you have a mind to get your
+      answer,&rdquo; whispered the woman. Lord Colambre followed, for he wished to see
+      the end of this scene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me, like my shadow,
+      for?&rdquo; said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly upon Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship bowed low. &ldquo;Waiting for my answer, sir, when you are at
+      leisure. Or, may I call upon you to-morrow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to be a civil kind of fellow; but, as to boring, I don&rsquo;t know&mdash;if
+      you undertake it at your own expense. I dare say there may be minerals in
+      the ground. Well, you may call at the castle to-morrow, and when my
+      brother has done with the tenantry, I&rsquo;ll speak to him <i>for</i> you, and
+      we&rsquo;ll consult together, and see what we think. It&rsquo;s too late to-night. In
+      Ireland, nobody speaks to a gentleman about business after dinner,&mdash;your
+      servant, sir; any body can show you the way to the castle in the morning.&rdquo;
+       And, pushing by his lordship, he called to a man on the other side of the
+      street, who had obviously been waiting for him; he went under a gateway
+      with this man, and gave him a bag of guineas. He then called for his
+      horse, which was brought to him by a man whom Lord Colambre had heard
+      declaring that he would bid for the land that was advertised; whilst
+      another, who had the same intentions, most respectfully held his stirrup,
+      whilst he mounted without thanking either of these men. St. Dennis clapped
+      spurs to his steed, and rode away. No thanks, indeed, were deserved; for
+      the moment he was out of hearing, both cursed him after the manner of
+      their country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad luck go with you, then!&mdash;And may you break your neck before you
+      get home, if it was not for the <i>lase</i> I&rsquo;m to get, and that&rsquo;s paid
+      for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre followed the crowd into a public-house, where a new scene
+      presented itself to his view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man to whom St. Dennis gave the bag of gold was now selling this very
+      gold to the tenants, who were to pay their rent next day at the castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The agent would take nothing but gold. The same guineas were bought and
+      sold several times over, to the great profit of the agent and loss of the
+      poor tenants; for as the rents were paid, the guineas were resold to
+      another set: and the remittances made through bankers to the landlord,
+      who, as the poor man that explained the transaction to Lord Colambre
+      expressed it, &ldquo;gained nothing by the business, bad or good, but the
+      ill-will of the tenantry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The higgling for the price of the gold; the time lost in disputing about
+      the goodness of the notes, among some poor tenants, who could not read or
+      write, and who were at the mercy of the man with the bag in his hand; the
+      vexation, the useless harassing of all who were obliged to submit
+      ultimately&mdash;Lord Colambre saw: and all this time he endured the smell
+      of tobacco and whiskey, and the sound of various brogues, the din of men
+      wrangling, brawling, threatening, whining, drawling, cajoling, cursing,
+      and every variety of wretchedness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is this my father&rsquo;s town of Clonbrony?&rdquo; thought Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Is
+      this Ireland? No, it is not Ireland. Let me not, like most of those who
+      forsake their native country, traduce it. Let me not, even to my own mind,
+      commit the injustice of taking a speck for the whole. What I have just
+      seen is the picture only of that to which an Irish estate and Irish
+      tenantry may be degraded in the absence of those whose duty and interest
+      it is to reside in Ireland, to uphold justice by example and authority;
+      but who, neglecting this duty, commit power to bad hands and bad hearts&mdash;abandon
+      their tenantry to oppression, and their property to ruin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was now fine moonlight, and Lord Colambre met with a boy, who said he
+      could show him a short way across the fields to the widow O&rsquo;Neil&rsquo;s
+      cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      All were asleep at the cottage, when Lord Colambre arrived, except the
+      widow, who was sitting up, waiting for him; and who had brought her dog
+      into the house, that he might not fly at him, or bark at his return. She
+      had a roast chicken ready for her guest, and it was&mdash;but this she
+      never told him&mdash;the only chicken she had left; all the others had
+      been sent with the <i>duty fowl</i>, as a present to the under-agent&rsquo;s
+      lady. While he was eating his supper, which he ate with the better
+      appetite, as he had had no dinner, the good woman took down from the shelf
+      a pocket-book, which she gave him: &ldquo;Is not that your book?&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;My
+      boy Brian found it after you in the potatoe furrow, where you dropped it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;there are bank notes in it, which I
+      could not afford to lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there?&rdquo; said she: &ldquo;he never opened it&mdash;nor I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, in answer to his inquiries about Grace and the young man, the widow
+      answered, &ldquo;They are all in heart now, I thank ye kindly, sir, for asking;
+      they&rsquo;ll sleep easy to-night, any way, and I&rsquo;m in great spirits for them
+      and myself&mdash;for all&rsquo;s smooth now. After we parted you, Brian saw Mr.
+      Dennis himself about the <i>lase</i> and memorandum, which he never
+      denied, but knew nothing about. &lsquo;But, be that as it may,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;you&rsquo;re
+      improving tenants, and I&rsquo;m confident my brother will consider ye; so what
+      you&rsquo;ll do is, you&rsquo;ll give up the possession to-morrow to myself, that will
+      call for it by cock-crow, just for form&rsquo;s sake; and then go up to the
+      castle with the new <i>lase</i> ready drawn, in your hand, and if all&rsquo;s
+      paid off clear of the rent, and all that&rsquo;s due, you&rsquo;ll get the new <i>lase</i>
+      signed: I&rsquo;ll promise you this upon the word and honour of a gentleman.&rsquo;
+      And there&rsquo;s no going beyond that, you know, sir. So my boy came home as
+      light as a feather, and as gay as a lark, to bring us the good news; only
+      he was afraid we might not make up the rent, guineas and all; and because
+      he could not get paid for the work he done, on account of the mistake in
+      the overseer&rsquo;s tally, I sold the cow to a neighbour, dog-cheap; but needs
+      must, as they say, when Old Nick <i>drives</i>,&rdquo; said the widow, smiling.
+      &ldquo;Well, still it was but paper we got for the cow; then that must be gold
+      before the agent would take or touch it&mdash;so I was laying out to sell
+      the dresser, and had taken the plates and cups, and little things off it,
+      and my boy was lifting it out with Andy the carpenter, that was agreeing
+      for it, when in comes Grace, all rosy and out of breath&mdash;it&rsquo;s a
+      wonder I never minded her run out, nor ever missed her. &lsquo;Mother,&rsquo; says
+      she, &lsquo;here&rsquo;s the gold for you; don&rsquo;t be stirring your dresser.&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;And
+      where&rsquo;s your gown and cloak, Grace?&rsquo; says I. But, I beg your pardon, sir;
+      may be, I&rsquo;m tiring you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Where&rsquo;s your gown and cloak, Grace?&rsquo; says I. &lsquo;Gone,&rsquo; says she. &lsquo;The
+      cloak was too warm and heavy, and I don&rsquo; doubt, mother, but it was that
+      helped to make me faint this morning. And as to the gown, sure I&rsquo;ve a very
+      nice one here, that you spun for me yourself, mother; and that I prize
+      above all the gowns ever came out of a loom; and that Brian said become me
+      to his fancy above any gown ever he see me wear; and what could I wish for
+      more?&rsquo; Now I&rsquo;d a mind to scold her for going to sell the gown unknown&rsquo;st
+      to me, but I don&rsquo;t know how it was, I couldn&rsquo;t scold her just then, so
+      kissed her, and Brian the same, and that was what no man ever did before.
+      And she had a mind to be angry with him, but could not, nor ought not,
+      says I, &lsquo;for he&rsquo;s as good as your husband now, Grace; and no man can part
+      yees now,&rsquo; says I, putting their hands together. Well, I never saw her
+      look so pretty; nor there was not a happier boy that minute on God&rsquo;s earth
+      than my son, nor a happier mother than myself; and I thanked God, that had
+      given them to me; and down they both fell on their knees for my blessing,
+      little worth as it was; and my heart&rsquo;s blessing they had, and I laid my
+      hands upon them. &lsquo;It&rsquo;s the priest you must get to do this for you
+      to-morrow,&rsquo; says I. And Brian just held up the ring, to show me all was
+      ready on his part, but could not speak. &lsquo;Then there&rsquo;s no America between
+      us any more!&rsquo; said Grace, low to me, and her heart was on her lips; but
+      the colour came and went, and I was <i>afeard</i> she&rsquo;d have swooned
+      again, but not for sorrow, so I carried her off. Well, if she was not my
+      own&mdash;but she is not my own born, so I may say it&mdash;there never
+      was a better girl, not a more kind-hearted, nor generous; never thinking
+      any thing she could do, or give, too much for them she loved, and any
+      thing at all would do for herself; the sweetest natured and tempered both,
+      and always was, from this high; the bond that held all together, and joy
+      of the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just like her namesake,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plase your honour!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not it late?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, stretching himself and gaping; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+      walked a great way to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red check bed, and
+      wished him a very good night; not without some slight sentiment of
+      displeasure at his gaping thus at the panegyric on her darling Grace.
+      Before she left the room, however, her short-lived resentment vanished,
+      upon his saying, that he hoped, with her permission, to be present at the
+      wedding of the young couple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his reverence when
+      it would be convenient to marry him; and whilst he was gone, Mr. Dennis
+      Garraghty came to the cottage, to receive the rent and possession. The
+      rent was ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No occasion for a receipt; for a new <i>lase</i> is a receipt in full for
+      every thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, sir,&rdquo; said the widow; &ldquo;I know nothing of law. You know best&mdash;whatever
+      you direct&mdash;for you are acting as a friend to us now. My son got the
+      attorney to draw the pair of new <i>lases</i> yesterday, and here they are
+      ready, all to signing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Dennis said, his brother must settle that part of the business, and
+      that they must carry them up to the castle; &ldquo;but first give me the
+      possession.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to him, and a
+      bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked out the fire, and said every
+      living creature must go out. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s only form of law,&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And must my lodger get up, and turn out, sir?&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must turn out, to be sure&mdash;not a living soul must he left in it,
+      or it&rsquo;s no legal possession, properly. Who is your lodger?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On Lord Colambre&rsquo;s appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some surprise, and said,
+      &ldquo;I thought you were lodging at Brannagan&rsquo;s; are not you the man who spoke
+      to me at his house about the gold mines?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about the gold mines at
+      Brannagan&rsquo;s; but I did not like to lodge&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must walk out of this
+      lodging now, if you please, my good friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders, repeating, as the
+      widow turned back, and looked with some surprise and alarm, &ldquo;only for form
+      sake, only for form sake!&rdquo; then locking the door, took the key, and put it
+      into his pocket. The widow held out her hand for it: &ldquo;The form&rsquo;s gone
+      through now, sir; is not it? Be plased to let us in again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the new lease is signed, I&rsquo;ll give you possession again; but not
+      till then&mdash;for that&rsquo;s the law. So make away with you to the castle;
+      and mind,&rdquo; added he, winking slily, &ldquo;mind you take sealing-money with you,
+      and something to buy gloves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, where will I find all that?&rdquo; said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have it, mother; don&rsquo;t fret,&rdquo; said Grace. &ldquo;I have it&mdash;the price of&mdash;what
+      I can want<a href="#linknote-10" name="linknoteref-10" id="linknoteref-10"><small>10</small></a>.
+      So let us go off to the castle without delay. Brian will meet us on the
+      road, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accompanying them. Brian
+      met them on the road. &ldquo;Father Tom is ready, dear mother; bring her in, and
+      he&rsquo;ll marry us. I&rsquo;m not my own man till she&rsquo;s mine. Who knows what may
+      happen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who knows? that&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better go to the castle first,&rdquo; said Grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And keep the priest waiting! You can&rsquo;t use his reverence so,&rdquo; said Brian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So she let him lead her into the priest&rsquo;s house, and she did not make any
+      of the awkward draggings back, or ridiculous scenes of grimace sometimes
+      exhibited on these occasions; but blushing rosy red, yet with more
+      self-possession than could have been expected from her timid nature, she
+      gave her hand to the man she loved, and listened with attentive devotion
+      to the holy ceremony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated the bride, &ldquo;shall I
+      ever be as happy as these poor people are at this moment?&rdquo; He longed to
+      make them some little present, but all he could venture at this moment was
+      to pay the priest&rsquo;s dues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The priest positively refused to take any thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are the best couple in my parish,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll take nothing,
+      sir, from you, a stranger and my guest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, come what will, I&rsquo;m a match for it. No trouble can touch me,&rdquo; said
+      Brian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t be bragging,&rdquo; said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whatever trouble God sends, he has given one now will help to bear it,
+      and sure I may be thankful,&rdquo; said Grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such good hearts must be happy,&mdash;shall be happy!&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you&rsquo;re very kind,&rdquo; said the widow, smiling; &ldquo;and I wouldn&rsquo;t doubt
+      you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you
+      encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!&rdquo;
+       cried Lord Colambre; &ldquo;whether the agent gives me encouragement or not,&rdquo;
+       added he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said
+      herself, would not have been able for it, but for a <i>lift</i> given to
+      her by a friendly carman, whom she overtook on the road with an empty car.
+      This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre&rsquo;s fears of meeting
+      and being recognized by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question
+      of &ldquo;Who is at the castle?&rdquo; replied, &ldquo;Mrs. Raffarty will be in it afore
+      night; but she&rsquo;s on the road still. There&rsquo;s none but Old Nick in it yet;
+      and he&rsquo;s more of a <i>neger</i> than ever; for think, that he would not
+      pay me a farthing for the carriage of his <i>shister&rsquo;s</i> boxes and
+      band-boxes down. If you&rsquo;re going to have any dealings with him, God grant
+      ye a safe deliverance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Amen!&rdquo; said the widow, and her son and daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre&rsquo;s attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and
+      park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old. Some
+      faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew
+      the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all about it, from the
+      broken piers at the great entrance, to the mossy gravel and loose steps at
+      the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy. Walks overgrown,
+      shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees cut down,
+      and lying on the ground in lots to be sold. A hill that had been covered
+      with an oak wood, where in his childhood our hero used to play, and which
+      he called the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the white
+      stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last
+      remittances.&mdash;&ldquo;And how it went, when sold!&mdash;but no matter,&rdquo; said
+      Finnucan; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s all alike.&mdash;It&rsquo;s the back way into the yard, I&rsquo;ll
+      take you, I suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And such a yard! but it&rsquo;s no matter,&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre to himself;
+      &ldquo;it&rsquo;s all alike.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the kitchen, a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty&rsquo;s friends,
+      who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where&rsquo;s the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after
+      dinner,&rdquo; says one; &ldquo;and the wine for the cook&mdash;sure there&rsquo;s venison,&rdquo;
+       cries another.&mdash;&ldquo;Venison!&mdash;That&rsquo;s the way my lord&rsquo;s deer goes,&rdquo;
+       says a third, laughing.&mdash;&ldquo;Ay, sure! and very proper, when he&rsquo;s not
+      here to eat &lsquo;em.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if
+      you <i>plase</i>,&rdquo; said the agent&rsquo;s cook, shutting the door in Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s face. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s the way to the office, if you&rsquo;ve money to pay,
+      up the back stairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; up the grand staircase they must,&mdash;Mr. Garraghty ordered,&rdquo; said
+      the footman; &ldquo;because the office is damp for him, and it&rsquo;s not there he&rsquo;ll
+      see any body to-day; but in my lady&rsquo;s dressing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent
+      apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, isn&rsquo;t it a pity to see them? There&rsquo;s my lady, and all spoiling,&rdquo;
+       said the widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent&mdash;&ldquo;Shamefully
+      damaged!&rdquo; cried he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pass on, or let me pass, if you <i>plase</i>,&rdquo; said one of the tenants;
+      &ldquo;and don&rsquo;t be stopping the door-way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have business more nor you with the agent,&rdquo; said the surveyor; &ldquo;where
+      is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the <i>presence-chamber</i>,&rdquo; replied another: &ldquo;Where should the
+      viceroy be but in the <i>presence-chamber</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a full levee, and fine smell of great coats.&mdash;&ldquo;Oh! would
+      you put your hats on the silk cushions?&rdquo; said the widow to some men in the
+      doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? where else?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the lady was in it, you wouldn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said she, sighing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, to be sure, I wouldn&rsquo;t: great news! would I make no <i>differ</i> in
+      the presence of Old Nick and my lady?&rdquo; said he, in Irish. &ldquo;Have I no sense
+      or manners, good woman, think ye?&rdquo; added he, as he shook the ink out of
+      the pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished signing his name to a
+      paper on his knee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may wait long before you get to the speech of the great man,&rdquo; said
+      another, who was working his way through numbers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They continued pushing forward, till they came within sight of Mr.
+      Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse countenance, or a more
+      perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord Colambre had
+      never beheld.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We forbear all further detail of this levee. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all the same!&rdquo; as Lord
+      Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery or
+      oppression to which he was witness; and having completely made up his mind
+      on the subject, he sat down quietly in the back-ground, waiting till it
+      should come to the widow&rsquo;s turn to be dealt with, for he was now
+      interested only to see how she would be treated. The room gradually
+      thinned I Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to help
+      his brother to count the heaps of gold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Dennis, I&rsquo;m glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting me
+      here,&rdquo; said the widow O&rsquo;Neil, walking up to him;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure you&rsquo;ll speak a good word for me: here&rsquo;s the <i>lases</i>&mdash;who
+      will I offer this to?&rdquo; said she, holding the <i>glove-money</i> and <i>sealing-money</i>,
+      &ldquo;for I&rsquo;m strange and ashamed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t be ashamed&mdash;there&rsquo;s no strangeness in bringing money or
+      taking it,&rdquo; said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. &ldquo;Is this
+      the proper compliment?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope so, sir: your honour knows best.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; slipping it into his private purse. &ldquo;Now what&rsquo;s your
+      business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The <i>lases</i> to sign&mdash;the rent&rsquo;s all paid up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was, <i>plase</i> your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our
+      little place in his pocket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I hope he&rsquo;ll keep it there. <i>Your</i> little place&mdash;it&rsquo;s no
+      longer yours; I&rsquo;ve promised it to the surveyor. You don&rsquo;t think I&rsquo;m such a
+      fool as to renew to you at this rent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Dennis named the rent. But any thing your honour <i>plases</i>&mdash;any
+      thing at all that we can pay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s out of the question&mdash;put it out of your head. No rent you
+      can offer would do, for I have promised it to the surveyor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a
+      renewal, on the back of the <i>ould lase</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Produce it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s the <i>lase</i>, but the promise is rubbed out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that&rsquo;s rubbed out. Who&rsquo;ll listen to
+      that in a court of justice, do you think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know, plase your honour; but this I&rsquo;m sure of, my lord and Miss
+      Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by when my
+      lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?&mdash;What has she to do with
+      the management of my Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s estate, pray?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Management!&mdash;no, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, God forbid!&mdash;how could that be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what my
+      lord does not choose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I&rsquo;ll never mention Miss Nugent&rsquo;s name in it at all, if it was
+      ever so with me. But be <i>plased</i>, sir, to write over to my lord, and
+      ask him; I&rsquo;m sure he&rsquo;ll remember it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Write to my lord about such a trifle&mdash;trouble him about such
+      nonsense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;d be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and believe me,
+      sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor, if in my power,
+      for the whole estate, nor the whole world: for there&rsquo;s an eye above.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cant! nonsense!&mdash;Take those leases off the table; I never will sign
+      them. Walk off, ye canting hag; it&rsquo;s an imposition&mdash;I will never sign
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You <i>will</i>, then, sir,&rdquo; cried Brian, growing red with indignation;
+      &ldquo;for the law shall make you, so it shall; and you&rsquo;d as good have been
+      civil to my mother, whatever you did&mdash;for I&rsquo;ll stand by her while
+      I&rsquo;ve life; and I know she has right, and shall have law. I saw the
+      memorandum written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever
+      became of it after; and will swear to it too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will avail in your own
+      case in a court of justice,&rdquo; continued Old Nick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And against a gentleman of my brother&rsquo;s established character and
+      property,&rdquo; said St. Dennis. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s your mother&rsquo;s character against a
+      gentleman&rsquo;s like his?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Character! take care how you go to that, any way, sir,&rdquo; cried Brian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grace put her hand before his mouth, to stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace, dear, I must speak, if I die for it; sure it&rsquo;s for my mother,&rdquo;
+       said the young man, struggling forward, while his mother held him back; &ldquo;I
+      must speak.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he&rsquo;s ruined, I see it,&rdquo; said Grace, putting her hand before her eyes,
+      &ldquo;and he won&rsquo;t mind me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on, let him go on, pray, young woman,&rdquo; said Mr. Garraghty, pale with
+      anger and fear, his lips quivering; &ldquo;I shall be happy to take down his
+      words.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Write them; and may all the world read it, and welcome!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His mother and wife stopped his mouth by force.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Write you, Dennis,&rdquo; said Mr. Garraghty, giving the pen to his brother;
+      for his hand shook so he could not form a letter. &ldquo;Write the very words,
+      and at the top&rdquo; (pointing) &ldquo;after warning, <i>with malice prepense</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Write, then&mdash;mother, Grace&mdash;let me,&rdquo; cried Brian, speaking in a
+      smothered voice, as their hands were over his mouth. &ldquo;Write then, that, if
+      you&rsquo;d either of you a character like my mother, you might defy the world;
+      and your word would be as good as your oath.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Oath!</i> mind that, Dennis,&rdquo; said Mr. Garraghty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, sir! sir! won&rsquo;t you stop him?&rdquo; cried Grace, turning suddenly to Lord
+      Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, dear, dear, if you haven&rsquo;t lost your feeling for us,&rdquo; cried the
+      widow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let him speak,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, in a tone of authority; &ldquo;let the
+      voice of truth be heard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Truth!</i>&rdquo; cried St. Dennis, and dropped the pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who the devil are you, sir?&rdquo; said Old Nick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Colambre, I protest!&rdquo; exclaimed a female voice; and Mrs. Raffarty at
+      this instant appeared at the open door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Colambre!&rdquo; repeated all present, in different tones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, I beg pardon,&rdquo; continued Mrs. Raffarty, advancing as if her legs
+      were tied; &ldquo;had I known you was down here, I would not have presumed. I&rsquo;d
+      better retire; for I see you&rsquo;re busy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;d best; for you&rsquo;re mad, sister,&rdquo; said St. Dennis, pushing her back;
+      &ldquo;and we <i>are</i> busy; go to your room, and keep quiet, if you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First, madam,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, going between her and the door, &ldquo;let
+      me beg that you will consider yourself as at home in this house, whilst
+      any circumstances make it desirable to you. The hospitality you showed me
+      you cannot think I now forget.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my lord, you&rsquo;re too good&mdash;how few&mdash;too kind&mdash;kinder
+      than my own;&rdquo; and, bursting into tears, she escaped out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre returned to the party round the table, who were in various
+      attitudes of astonishment, and with faces of fear, horror, hope, joy,
+      doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Distress,&rdquo; continued his lordship, &ldquo;however incurred, if not by vice,
+      will always find a refuge in this house. I speak in my father&rsquo;s name, for
+      I know I speak his sentiments. But never more shall vice,&rdquo; said he,
+      darting such a look at the brother agents as they felt to the back-bone&mdash;&ldquo;never
+      more shall vice, shall fraud enter here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused, and there was a momentary silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There spoke the true thing! and the <i>rael</i> gentleman; my own heart&rsquo;s
+      satisfied,&rdquo; said Brian, folding his arms, and standing erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then so is mine,&rdquo; said Grace, taking breath, with a deep sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The widow advancing, put on her spectacles, and, looking up close at Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s face&mdash;&ldquo;Then it&rsquo;s a wonder I didn&rsquo;t know the family
+      likeness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, now recollecting that he still wore the old great coat,
+      threw it off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, bless him! Then now I&rsquo;d know him any where. I&rsquo;m willing to die now,
+      for we&rsquo;ll all be happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, since it is so&mdash;my lord, may I ask you,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Garraghty, now sufficiently recovered to be able to articulate, but
+      scarcely to express his ideas; &ldquo;if what your lordship hinted just now&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hinted nothing, sir; I spoke plainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg pardon, my lord,&rdquo; said Old Nick; &ldquo;respecting vice, was levelled at
+      me; because, if it was, my lord,&rdquo; trying to stand erect; &ldquo;let me tell your
+      lordship, if I could think it was&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it did not hit you, sir, no matter at whom it was levelled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And let me ask, my lord, if I may presume, whether, in what you suggested
+      by the word fraud, your lordship had any particular meaning?&rdquo; said St.
+      Dennis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A very particular meaning, sir&mdash;feel in your pocket for the key of
+      this widow&rsquo;s house, and deliver it to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, if that&rsquo;s all the meaning, with all the pleasure in life. I never
+      meant to detain it longer than till the leases were signed,&rdquo; said St.
+      Dennis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I&rsquo;m ready to sign the leases this minute,&rdquo; said the brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do it, sir, this minute; I have read them; I will be answerable to my
+      father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, as to that, my lord, I have power to sign for your father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He signed the leases; they were duly witnessed by Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deliver this as my act and deed,&rdquo; said Mr. Garraghty:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;you see, at the first word from you; and had I
+      known sooner the interest you took in the family, there would have been no
+      difficulty; for I&rsquo;d make it a principle to oblige you, my lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oblige me!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, with disdain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But when gentlemen and noblemen travel <i>incognito</i>, and lodge in
+      cabins,&rdquo; added St. Dennis, with a satanic smile, glancing his eye on
+      Grace, &ldquo;they have good reasons, no doubt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not judge my heart by your own, sir,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, coolly; &ldquo;no
+      two things in nature can, I trust, be more different. My purpose in
+      travelling <i>incognito</i> has been fully answered: I was determined to
+      see and judge how my father&rsquo;s estates were managed; and I have seen,
+      compared, and judged. I have seen the difference between the Clonbrony and
+      the Colambre property; and I shall represent what I have seen to my
+      father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to that, my lord, if we are to come to that&mdash;but I trust your
+      lordship will suffer me to explain these matters. Go about your business,
+      my good friends; you have all you want; and, my lord, after dinner, when
+      you are cool, I hope I shall be able to make you sensible that things have
+      been represented to your lordship in a mistaken light; and, I flatter
+      myself, I shall convince you, I have not only always acted the part of a
+      friend to the family, but am particularly willing to conciliate your
+      lordship&rsquo;s good-will,&rdquo; said he, sweeping the rouleaus of gold into a bag;
+      &ldquo;any accommodation in my power, at any time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want no accommodation, sir&mdash;were I starving, I would accept of
+      none from you. Never can you conciliate my good-will; for you can never
+      deserve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that be the case, my lord, I must conduct myself accordingly: but it&rsquo;s
+      fair to warn you, before you make any representation to my Lord Clonbrony,
+      that, if he should think of changing his agent, there are accounts to be
+      settled between us&mdash;that may be a consideration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir; no consideration&mdash;my father never shall be the slave of
+      such a paltry consideration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, very well, my lord; you know best. If you choose to make an
+      assumpsit, I&rsquo;m sure I shall not object to the security. Your lordship will
+      be of age soon, I know&mdash;I&rsquo;m sure I&rsquo;m satisfied&mdash;but,&rdquo; added he,
+      with a malicious smile, &ldquo;I rather apprehend you don&rsquo;t know what you
+      undertake: I only premise that the balance of accounts between us is not
+      what can properly be called a paltry consideration.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On that point, perhaps, sir, you and I may differ.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if it suits your
+      convenience.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dennis! the letters to the post&mdash;When do you go to England, my
+      lord?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately, sir,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: his lordship saw new leases from
+      his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty, lying on the table, unsigned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately!&rdquo; repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis, with an air of
+      dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the window, and whispered something
+      to his brother, who instantly left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre saw the postchaise at the door, which had brought Mrs.
+      Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing beside it: his lordship
+      instantly threw up the sash, and holding between his finger and thumb a
+      six shilling piece, cried, &ldquo;Larry, my friend, let me have the horses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall have &lsquo;em&mdash;your honour,&rdquo; said Larry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magisterial tone.
+      &ldquo;Larry, my brother must have the horses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He can&rsquo;t, <i>plase</i> your honour&mdash;they&rsquo;re engaged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Half a crown!&mdash;a crown!&mdash;half a guinea!&rdquo; said Mr. Dennis
+      Garraghty, raising his voice, as he increased his proffered bribe. To each
+      offer Larry replied, &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t, <i>plase</i> your honour, they&rsquo;re
+      engaged;&rdquo; and, looking up to the window at Lord Colambre, he said, &ldquo;As
+      soon as they have ate their oats, you shall have &lsquo;em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consternation. Lord
+      Colambre ordered that Larry should have some dinner, and whilst the
+      postilion was eating, and the horses finished their oats, his lordship
+      wrote the following letter to his father, which, to prevent all
+      possibility of accident, he determined to put, with his own hand, into the
+      post-office at Clonbrony, as he passed through the town.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;MY DEAR FATHER,
+
+    &ldquo;I hope to be with you in a few days. Lest any thing should detain
+    me on the road, I write this, to make an earnest request, that you
+    will not sign any papers, or transact any farther business with
+    Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis Garraghty before you see
+
+    &ldquo;Your affectionate son,
+
+    &ldquo;COLAMBRE.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready, and Lord Colambre,
+      having first eaten a slice of his own venison, ran down to the carriage,
+      followed by the thanks and blessings of the widow, her son, and daughter,
+      who could hardly make their way after him to the chaise-door, so great was
+      the crowd which had gathered on the report of his lordship&rsquo;s arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Long life to your honour! Long life to your lordship!&rdquo; echoed on all
+      sides. &ldquo;Just come, and going, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good bye to you all, good people!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then <i>good bye</i> is the only word we wouldn&rsquo;t wish to hear from your
+      honour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the sake both of landlord and tenant, I must leave you now, my good
+      friends; but I hope to return to you at some future time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you! and speed ye! and a safe journey to your honour!&mdash;and
+      a happy return to us, and soon!&rdquo; cried a multitude of voices.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door, and beckoned to the widow
+      O&rsquo;Neil, before whom others had pressed. An opening was made for her
+      instantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! that was the very way his father stood, with his foot on the step.
+      And Miss Nugent was <i>in it</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say,&mdash;with some difficulty
+      recollected. &ldquo;This pocket-book,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;which your son restored to me&mdash;I
+      intend it for your daughter&mdash;don&rsquo;t keep it as your son kept it for
+      me, without opening it. Let what is withinside,&rdquo; added he, as he got into
+      the carriage, &ldquo;replace the cloak and gown, and let all things necessary
+      for a bride be bought; &lsquo;for the bride that has all things to borrow has
+      surely mickle to do.&rsquo; Shut the door, and drive on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Blessings be <i>wid</i> you,&rdquo; cried the widow, &ldquo;and God give you grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Larry drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good rate, till he got
+      out of the great gate, and beyond the sight of the crowd: then, pulling
+      up, he turned to Lord Colambre&mdash;&ldquo;<i>Plase</i> your honour, I did not
+      know nor guess ye was my lord, when I let you have the horses: did not
+      know who you was from Adam, I&rsquo;ll take my affidavit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no occasion,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;I hope you don&rsquo;t repent
+      letting me have the horses, now you do know who I am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! not at all, sure: I&rsquo;m as glad as the best horse ever I crossed, that
+      your honour is my lord&mdash;but I was only telling your honour, that you
+      might not be looking upon me as a <i>timesarver</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not look upon you as a <i>timesarver</i>, Larry; but keep on, that
+      time may serve me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In two words, he explained his cause of haste; and no sooner explained
+      than understood. Larry thundered away through the town of Clonbrony,
+      bending over his horses, plying the whip, and lending his very soul at
+      every lash. With much difficulty, Lord Colambre stopped him at the end of
+      the town, at the post-office. The post was gone out&mdash;gone a quarter
+      of an hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May be, we&rsquo;ll overtake the mail,&rdquo; said Larry: and, as he spoke, he slid
+      down from his seat, and darted into the public-house, re-appearing, in a
+      few moments, with a <i>copper</i> of ale and a horn in his hand: he and
+      another man held open the horses&rsquo; mouths, and poured the ale through the
+      horn down their throats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, they&rsquo;ll go with spirit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made them go &ldquo;for life or
+      death,&rdquo; as he said: but in vain! At the next stage, at his own inn-door,
+      Larry roared for fresh horses till he, got them, harnessed them with his
+      own hands, holding the six shilling piece, which Lord Colambre had given
+      him, in his mouth, all the while: for he could not take time to put it
+      into his pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speed ye! I wish I was driving you all the way, then,&rdquo; said he. The other
+      postilion was not yet ready. &ldquo;Then your honour sees,&rdquo; said he, putting his
+      head into the carriage, &ldquo;<i>consarning</i> of them Garraghties&mdash;Old
+      Nick and St. Dennis&mdash;the best part, that is, the worst part, of what
+      I told you, proved true; and I&rsquo;m glad of it, that is, I&rsquo;m sorry for it&mdash;but
+      glad your honour knows it in time. So Heaven prosper you! And may all the
+      saints (<i>barring</i> St. Dennis) have charge of you, and all belonging
+      to you, till we see you here again!&mdash;And when will it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I will do my best to
+      send your landlord to you soon. In the mean time, my good fellow, keep
+      away from the sign of the Horseshoe&mdash;a man of your sense to drink and
+      make an idiot and a brute of yourself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True!&mdash;And it was only when I had lost hope I took to it&mdash;but
+      now! Bring me the book one of <i>yees</i>, out of the landlady&rsquo;s parlour.
+      By the virtue of this book, and by all the books that ever was shut and
+      opened, I won&rsquo;t touch a drop of spirits, good or bad, till I see your
+      honour again, or some of the family, this time twelvemonth&mdash;that long
+      I live on hope,&mdash;but mind, if you disappoint me, I don&rsquo;t swear but
+      I&rsquo;ll take to the whiskey for comfort, all the rest of my days. But don&rsquo;t
+      be staying here, wasting your time, advising me. Bartley! take the reins,
+      can&rsquo;t ye?&rdquo; cried he, giving them to the fresh postilion; &ldquo;and keep on, for
+      your life, for there&rsquo;s thousands of pounds depending on the race&mdash;so
+      off, off, Bartley, with speed of light!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the roads, that,
+      notwithstanding the rate at which our hero travelled, he arrived safely in
+      Dublin, just in time to put his letter into the post-office, and to sail
+      in that night&rsquo;s packet. The wind was fair when Lord Colambre went on
+      board, but before they got out of the Bay it changed; they made no way all
+      night: in the course of the next day, they had the mortification to see
+      another packet from Dublin sail past them, and when they landed at
+      Holyhead, were told the packet, which had left Ireland twelve hours after
+      them, had been in an hour before them. The passengers had taken their
+      places in the coach, and engaged what horses could be had. Lord Colambre
+      was afraid that Mr. Garraghty was one of them; a person exactly answering
+      his description had taken four horses, and set out half an hour before in
+      great haste for London. Luckily, just as those who had taken their places
+      in the mail were getting into the coach, Lord Colambre saw among them a
+      gentleman, with whom he had been acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who
+      was come over during the long vacation, to make a tour of pleasure in
+      England. When Lord Colambre explained the reason he had for being in haste
+      to reach London, he had the good-nature to give up to him his place in the
+      coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night, and delayed not one moment, till
+      he reached his father&rsquo;s house, in London.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father at home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my lord, in his own room&mdash;the agent from Ireland with him, on
+      particular business&mdash;desired not to be interrupted&mdash;but I&rsquo;ll go
+      and tell him, my lord, you are come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre ran past the servant, as he spoke&mdash;made his way into
+      the room&mdash;found his father, Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, and Mr. Garraghty&mdash;leases
+      open on the table before them; a candle lighted; Sir Terence sealing;
+      Garraghty emptying a bag of guineas on the table, and Lord Clonbrony
+      actually with a pen in his hand, ready to sign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the door opened, Garraghty started back, so that half the contents of
+      his bag rolled upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop, my dear father, I conjure you,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, springing
+      forward, and snatching the pen from his father&rsquo;s hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre! God bless you, my dear boy! at all events. But how came you
+      here?&mdash;And what do you mean?&rdquo; said his father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Burn it!&rdquo; cried Sir Terence, pinching the sealing-wax; &ldquo;for I burnt
+      myself with the pleasure of the surprise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Garraghty, without saying a word, was picking up the guineas that were
+      scattered upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How fortunate I am,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, &ldquo;to have arrived just in time
+      to tell you, my dear father, before you put your signature to these
+      papers, before you conclude this bargain, all I know, all I have seen of
+      that man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nick Garraghty, honest old Nick; do you know him, my lord?&rdquo; said Sir
+      Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too well, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Garraghty, what have you done to offend my son? I did not expect
+      this,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my conscience, my lord, nothing to my knowledge,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Garraghty, picking up the guineas; &ldquo;but showed him every civility, even so
+      far as offering to accommodate him with cash without security; and where
+      will you find the other agent, in Ireland, or any where else, will do
+      that? To my knowledge, I never did any thing, by word or deed, to offend
+      my Lord Colambre; nor could not, for I never saw him but for ten minutes,
+      in my days; and then he was in such a foaming passion, begging his
+      lordship&rsquo;s pardon, owing to the misrepresentations he met with of me, I
+      presume, from a parcel of blackguards that he went amongst, <i>incognito</i>,
+      he would not let me or my brother Dennis say a word to set him right; but
+      exposed me before all the tenantry, and then threw himself into a hack,
+      and drove off here, to stop the signing of these leases, I perceive. But I
+      trust,&rdquo; concluded he, putting the replenished money-bag down, with a heavy
+      sound on the table, opposite to Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;I trust my Lord Clonbrony
+      will do me justice; that&rsquo;s all I have to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I comprehend the force of your last argument fully, sir,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre. &ldquo;May I ask, how many guineas there are in the bag?&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+      ask whether they are my father&rsquo;s or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are to be your lordship&rsquo;s father&rsquo;s, sir, if he thinks proper,&rdquo;
+       replied Garraghty. &ldquo;How many, I don&rsquo;t know that I can justly, positively
+      say&mdash;five hundred, suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they would be my father&rsquo;s, if he signed those leases&mdash;I
+      understand that perfectly, and understand that my father will lose three
+      times that sum by the bargain. My dear father, you start&mdash;but it is
+      true&mdash;is not this the rent, sir, at which you are going to let Mr.
+      Garraghty have the land?&rdquo; placing a paper before Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is&mdash;the very thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And here, sir, written with my own hand, are copies of the proposals I
+      saw from responsible, respectable tenants, offered and refused. Is it so,
+      or is it not, Mr. Garraghty?&mdash;deny it, if you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Garraghty grew pale; his lips quivered; he stammered; and, after a
+      shocking convulsion of face, could at last articulate&mdash;only, &ldquo;That
+      there was a great difference between tenant and tenant, his lordship must
+      be sensible&mdash;especially for so large a rent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As great a difference as between agent and agent, I am sensible&mdash;especially
+      for so large a property!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, with cool contempt. &ldquo;You
+      find, sir, I am well informed with regard to this transaction; you will
+      find, also, that I am equally well informed with respect to every part of
+      your conduct towards my father and his tenantry. If, in relating to him
+      what I have seen and heard, I should make any mistakes, you are here; and
+      I am glad you are, to set me right, and to do yourself justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! as to that, I should not presume to contradict any thing your
+      lordship asserts from your own authority: where would be the use? I leave
+      it all to your lordship. But, as it is not particularly agreeable to stay
+      to hear one&rsquo;s self abused&mdash;Sir Terence! I&rsquo;ll thank you to hand me my
+      hat!&mdash;And if you&rsquo;ll have the goodness, my Lord Clonbrony, to look
+      over finally the accounts before morning, I&rsquo;ll call at your leisure to
+      settle the balance, as you find convenient: as to the leases, I&rsquo;m quite
+      indifferent.&rdquo; So saying, he took up his money-bag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you&rsquo;ll call again in the morning, Mr. Garraghty?&rdquo; said Sir Terence;
+      &ldquo;and, by that time, I hope we shall understand this misunderstanding
+      better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence pulled Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s sleeve: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let him go with the
+      money&mdash;it&rsquo;s much wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let him go,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;money can be had by honourable means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wheugh!&mdash;He talks as if he had the bank of England at his command,
+      as every young man does,&rdquo; said Sir Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre deigned no reply. Lord Clonbrony walked undecidedly between
+      his agent and his son&mdash;looked at Sir Terence, and said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Garraghty departed: Lord Clonbrony called after him from the head of
+      the stairs, &ldquo;I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence ran down stairs after him: Lord Colambre waited quietly for
+      their return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fifteen hundred guineas at a stroke of a goose-quill!&mdash;That was a
+      neat hit, narrowly missed, of honest Nick&rsquo;s!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony. &ldquo;Too
+      bad! too bad, faith!&mdash;I am much, very much obliged to you, Colambre,
+      for that hint: by to-morrow morning we shall have him in another tune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he must double the bag, or quit,&rdquo; said Sir Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three times five&rsquo;s fifteen:&mdash;fifteen
+      hundred down, or he does not get my signature to those leases for his
+      brother, nor get the agency of the Colambre estate.&mdash;Colambre, what
+      more have you to tell of him? for, since he is making out his accounts
+      against me, it is no harm to have a <i>per contra</i> against him, that
+      may ease my balance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very fair! very fair!&rdquo; said Sir Terence. &ldquo;My lord, trust me for
+      remembering all the charges against him&mdash;every item: and when he
+      can&rsquo;t clear himself, if I don&rsquo;t make him buy a good character dear enough,
+      why, say I am a fool, and don&rsquo;t know the value of character, good or bad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you know the value of character, Sir Terence,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre,
+      &ldquo;you know that it is not to be bought or sold.&rdquo; Then turning from Sir
+      Terence to his father, he gave a full and true account of all he had seen
+      in his progress through his Irish estates; and drew a faithful picture
+      both of the bad and good agent. Lord Clonbrony, who had benevolent
+      feelings, and was fond of his tenantry, was touched; and when his son
+      ceased speaking, repeated several times, &ldquo;Rascal! rascal! How dare he use
+      my tenants so&mdash;the O&rsquo;Neills in particular!&mdash;Rascal! bad heart!&mdash;I&rsquo;ll
+      have no more to do with him.&rdquo; But, suddenly recollecting himself, he
+      turned to Sir Terence, and added, &ldquo;That&rsquo;s sooner said than done&mdash;I&rsquo;ll
+      tell you honestly, Colambre, your friend Mr. Burke may he the best man in
+      the world&mdash;but he is the worst man to apply to for a remittance or a
+      loan, in a HURRY! He always tells me, &lsquo;he can&rsquo;t distress the tenants.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he never, at coming into the agency even,&rdquo; said Sir Terence, &ldquo;<i>advanced</i>
+      a good round sum to the landlord, by way of security for his good
+      behaviour. Now honest Nick did that much for us at coming in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And at going out is he not to be repaid?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the devil!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony: &ldquo;that&rsquo;s the very reason I can&rsquo;t
+      conveniently turn him out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make it convenient to you, sir, if you will permit me,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre. &ldquo;In a few days I shall be of age, and will join with you in
+      raising whatever sum you want, to free you from this man. Allow me to look
+      over his account; and whatever the honest balance may be, let him have
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear boy!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;you&rsquo;re a generous fellow. Fine Irish
+      heart!&mdash;glad you&rsquo;re my son! But there&rsquo;s more, much more, that you
+      don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; added he, looking at Sir Terence, who cleared his throat; and
+      Lord Clonbrony, who was on the point of opening all his affairs to his
+      son, stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;we will not say any thing more of this at present;
+      for nothing effectual can be done till you are of age, and then we shall
+      see all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre perfectly understood what his father meant, and what was
+      meant by the clearing of Sir Terence&rsquo;s throat. Lord Clonbrony wanted his
+      son to join him in opening the estate to pay his debts; and Sir Terence
+      feared that if Lord Colambre were abruptly told the whole sum total of the
+      debts, he would never be persuaded to join in selling or mortgaging so
+      much of his patrimony as would be necessary for their payment. Sir Terence
+      thought that the young man, ignorant probably of business, and
+      unsuspicious of the state of his father&rsquo;s affairs, might be brought, by
+      proper management, to any measures they desired. Lord Clonbrony wavered
+      between the temptation to throw himself upon the generosity of his son,
+      and the immediate convenience of borrowing a sum of money from his agent,
+      to relieve his present embarrassments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing can be settled,&rdquo; repeated he, &ldquo;till Colambre is of age; so it
+      does not signify talking of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why so, sir?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Though my act, in law, may not be
+      valid till I am of age, my promise, as a man of honour, is binding now;
+      and, I trust, would be as satisfactory to my father as any legal deed
+      whatever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Undoubtedly, my dear boy; but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, following his father&rsquo;s eye, which turned
+      to Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, as if asking his permission to explain. &ldquo;As my
+      father&rsquo;s friend, sir, you ought, permit me to say, at this moment to use
+      your influence to prevail upon him to throw aside all reserve with a son,
+      whose warmest wish is to serve him, and to see him at ease and happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Generous, dear boy,&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony. &ldquo;Terence, I can&rsquo;t stand it;
+      but how shall I bring myself to name the amount of the debts?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At some time or other, I must know it,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;I cannot be
+      better prepared at any moment than the present; never more disposed to
+      give my assistance to relieve all difficulties. Blindfold, I cannot be led
+      to any purpose, sir,&rdquo; said he, looking at Sir Terence: &ldquo;the attempt would
+      be degrading and futile. Blindfolded I will not be&mdash;but, with my eyes
+      open, I will see, and go straight and prompt as heart can go, to my
+      father&rsquo;s interest, without a look or thought to my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By St. Patrick! the spirit of a prince, and an Irish prince, spoke
+      there,&rdquo; cried Sir Terence: &ldquo;and if I&rsquo;d fifty hearts, you&rsquo;d have all in
+      your hand this minute, at your service, and warm. Blindfold you! After
+      that, the man that would attempt it <i>desarves</i> to be shot; and I&rsquo;d
+      have no sincerer pleasure in life than shooting him this moment, was he my
+      best friend. But it&rsquo;s not Clonbrony, or your father, my lord, would act
+      that way, no more than Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay&mdash;there&rsquo;s the schedule of the
+      debts,&rdquo; drawing a paper from his bosom; &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll swear to the lot, and
+      not a man on earth could do that but myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre opened the paper. His father turned aside, covering his face
+      with both his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut, man,&rdquo; said Sir Terence: &ldquo;I know him now better than you; he will
+      stand, you&rsquo;ll find, the shock of that regiment of figures&mdash;he is
+      steel to the backbone, and proof spirit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, my dear father,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;for trusting me thus
+      at once with a view of the truth. At first sight it is, I acknowledge,
+      worse than I expected; but I make no doubt that, when you allow me to
+      examine Mr. Garraghty&rsquo;s accounts and Mr. Mordicai&rsquo;s claims, we shall be
+      able to reduce this alarming total considerably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The devil a pound, nor a penny,&rdquo; said Sir Terence; &ldquo;for you have to deal
+      with a Jew and Old Nick; and, since I&rsquo;m not a match for them, I don&rsquo;t know
+      who is; and I have no hope of getting any abatement. I&rsquo;ve looked over the
+      accounts till I&rsquo;m sick.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless, you will observe that fifteen hundred guineas have been
+      saved to my father at one stroke, by his not signing those leases.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saved to you, my lord; not your father, if you please,&rdquo; said Sir Terence.
+      &ldquo;For now I&rsquo;m upon the square with you, I must be straight as an arrow, and
+      deal with you as the son and friend of my friend: before, I was
+      considering you only as the son and heir, which is quite another thing,
+      you know; accordingly, acting for your father here, I was making the best
+      bargain against you I could: honestly, now, I tell you. I knew the value
+      of the lands well enough: I was as sharp as Garraghty, and he knew it; I
+      was to have had for your father <i>the difference</i> from him, partly in
+      cash and partly in balance of accounts&mdash;you comprehend&mdash;and you
+      only would have been the loser, and never would have known it, may be,
+      till after we all were dead and buried; and then you might have set aside
+      Garraghty&rsquo;s lease easy, and no harm done to any but a rogue that <i>desarved</i>
+      it; and, in the mean time, an accommodation to my honest friend, my lord,
+      your father here. But, as fate would have it, you upset all by your
+      progress incognito through them estates. Well, it&rsquo;s best as it is, and I
+      am better pleased to be as we are, trusting all to a generous son&rsquo;s own
+      heart. Now put the poor father out of pain, and tell us what you&rsquo;ll do, my
+      dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In one word, then,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;I will, upon two conditions,
+      either join my father in levying fines to enable him to sell or mortgage
+      whatever portion of his estate is necessary for the payment of these
+      debts; or I will, in whatever mode he can point out, as more agreeable or
+      more advantageous to him, join in giving security to his creditors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear, noble fellow!&rdquo; cried Sir Terence: &ldquo;none but an Irishman could do
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate, but held his arms
+      open to embrace his son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you have not heard my conditions yet,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, confound the conditions!&rdquo; cried Sir Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What conditions could he ask, that I could refuse at this minute?&rdquo; said
+      Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I&mdash;was it my heart&rsquo;s blood, and were I to be hanged for it,&rdquo;
+       cried Sir Terence. &ldquo;And what are the conditions?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from the agency.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And welcome, and glad to get rid of him&mdash;the rogue, the tyrant,&rdquo;
+       said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;and, to be beforehand with you in your next wish,
+      put Mr. Burke into his place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this minute,&rdquo; cried
+      Terry, &ldquo;with all the pleasure in life. No; it&rsquo;s my Lord Colambre should do
+      that in all justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what&rsquo;s your next condition? I hope it&rsquo;s no worse,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That you and my mother should cease to be absentees.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, murder!&rdquo; said Sir Terence; &ldquo;may be that&rsquo;s not so easy; for there are
+      two words to that bargain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was ready to return to
+      Ireland next morning, and to promise to reside on his estate all the rest
+      of his days; that there was nothing he desired more, provided Lady
+      Clonbrony would consent to it; but that he could not promise for her; that
+      she was as obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had often tried, but
+      that there was no moving her; and that, in short, he could not promise on
+      her part.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he must insist. Unless
+      this condition were granted, he would not engage to do any thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes to town; she will
+      come up from Buxton the day you&rsquo;re of age to sign some papers,&rdquo; said Lord
+      Clonbrony; &ldquo;but,&rdquo; added he with a very dejected look and voice, &ldquo;if all&rsquo;s
+      to depend on my Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s consenting to return to Ireland, I&rsquo;m as
+      far from all hope of being at ease as ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my conscience, we&rsquo;re all at sea again,&rdquo; said Sir Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was silent; but in his silence there was such an air of
+      firmness, that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir Terence were convinced
+      entreaties would, on this point, be fruitless. Lord Clonbrony sighed
+      deeply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But when it&rsquo;s ruin or safety! and her husband and all belonging to her at
+      stake, the woman can&rsquo;t persist in being a mule,&rdquo; said Sir Terence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of whom are you talking, sir?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of whom? Oh, I beg your lordship&rsquo;s pardon&mdash;I thought I was talking
+      to my lord; but, in other words, as you are her son, I&rsquo;m persuaded her
+      ladyship, your mother, will prove herself a reasonable woman&mdash;when
+      she sees she can&rsquo;t help it. So, my Lord Clonbrony, cheer up; a great deal
+      may be done by the fear of Mordicai, and an execution, especially now
+      there&rsquo;s no prior creditor. Since there&rsquo;s no reserve between you and I now,
+      my Lord Colambre,&rdquo; said Sir Terence, &ldquo;I must tell you all, and how we
+      shambled on those months while you were in Ireland. First, Mordicai went
+      to law, to prove I was in a conspiracy with your father, pretending to be
+      prior creditor, to keep him off and out of his own; which, after a world
+      of swearing and law&mdash;law always takes time to do justice, that&rsquo;s one
+      comfort&mdash;the villain proved at last to be true enough, and so cast
+      us; and I was forced to be paid off last week. So there&rsquo;s no prior
+      creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then his execution was
+      coming down upon us, and nothing to stay it till I thought of a monthly
+      annuity to Mordicai, in the shape of a wager. So the morning after he cast
+      us, I went to him: &lsquo;Mr. Mordicai,&rsquo; says I, &lsquo;you must be <i>plased</i> to
+      see a man you&rsquo;ve beaten so handsomely; and though I&rsquo;m sore, both for
+      myself and my friend, yet you see I can laugh still, though an execution
+      is no laughing matter, and I&rsquo;m sensible you&rsquo;ve one in petto in your sleeve
+      for my friend Lord Clonbrony. But I&rsquo;ll lay you a wager of a hundred
+      guineas on paper, that a marriage of his son with an heiress, before next
+      Lady-day, will set all to rights, and pay you with a compliment too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such thing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did&mdash;but what was it but a wager? which is nothing but a dream;
+      and, when lost, as I am as sensible as you are that it must be, why what
+      is it, after all, but a bonus, in a gentlemanlike form, to Mordicai?
+      which, I grant you, is more than he deserves&mdash;for staying the
+      execution till you be of age; and even for my Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s sake,
+      though I know she hates me like poison, rather than have her disturbed by
+      an execution, I&rsquo;d pay the hundred guineas this minute out of my own
+      pocket, if I had &lsquo;em in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A thundering knock at the door was heard at this moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never heed it; let &lsquo;em thunder,&rdquo; said Sir Terence: &ldquo;whoever it is, they
+      won&rsquo;t get in; for my lord bid them let none in for their life. It&rsquo;s
+      necessary for us to be very particular about the street-door now; and I
+      advise a double chain for it, and to have the footmen well tutored to look
+      before they run to a double rap; for a double rap might be a double trap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord,&rdquo; said a footman, throwing open the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother! Miss Nugent!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, springing eagerly forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre! Here!&rdquo; said his mother: &ldquo;but it&rsquo;s all too late now, and no
+      matter where you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her; and he, without
+      considering the coldness of her manner, scarcely hearing, and not at all
+      understanding, the words she said, fixed his eyes on his cousin, who, with
+      a countenance all radiant with affectionate joy, held out her hand to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the recollection of
+      <i>St. Omar</i> crossed his mind: he checked himself, and said something
+      about joy and pleasure, but his countenance expressed neither; and Miss
+      Nugent, much surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew her hand,
+      and, turning away, left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace! darling!&rdquo; called Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;whither so fast, before you&rsquo;ve
+      given me a word or a kiss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her in his arms.
+      &ldquo;Why must I let you go? And what makes you so pale, my dear child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a little, a little tired&mdash;I will be with you again soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her uncle let her go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your famous Buxton baths don&rsquo;t seem to have agreed with her, by all I can
+      see,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I know what is to
+      blame and who is to blame,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone of displeasure,
+      fixing her eyes upon her son. &ldquo;Yes, you may well look confounded,
+      Colambre; but it is too late now&mdash;you should have known your own mind
+      in time. I see you have heard it, then&mdash;but I am sure I don&rsquo;t know
+      how; for it was only decided the day I left Buxton. The news could hardly
+      travel faster than I did. Pray how did you hear it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear what, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo; said Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All! Now, Lord Colambre, you <i>reelly</i> are too much for my patience.
+      But I flatter myself you will feel, when I tell you that it is your
+      friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, as I always prophesied, who has carried off the
+      prize from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should say, that I do
+      feel sincere pleasure in this marriage&mdash;I always wished it: my
+      friend, Sir Arthur, from the first moment, trusted me with the secret of
+      his attachment; he knew that he had my warm good wishes for his success;
+      he knew that I thought most highly of the young lady; but that I never
+      thought of her as a wife for myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why did not you? that is the very thing I complain of,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Clonbrony. &ldquo;But it is all over now. You may set your heart at ease, for
+      they are to be married on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst is ready to
+      break her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for her daughter; and you,
+      ungrateful as you are, you don&rsquo;t know how she wished you to be the happy
+      man. But only conceive, after all that has passed, Miss Broadhurst had the
+      assurance to expect I would let my niece be her bride&rsquo;s-maid. Oh, I flatly
+      refused; that is, I told Grace it could not be; and, that there might be
+      no affront to Mrs. Broadhurst, who did not deserve it, I pretended Grace
+      had never mentioned it; but ordered my carriage, and left Buxton directly.
+      Grace was hurt, for she is very warm in her friendships. I am sorry to
+      hurt Grace. But <i>reelly</i> I could not let her be bride&rsquo;s-maid:&mdash;and
+      that, if you must know, is what vexed her, and made the tears come in her
+      eyes, I suppose&mdash;and I&rsquo;m sorry for it; but one must keep up one&rsquo;s
+      dignity a little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen&mdash;and
+      <i>reelly</i> now, a very odd girl; never did any thing like any body
+      else; settled her marriage at last in the oddest way. Grace can tell you
+      the particulars. I own, I am tired of the subject, and tired of my
+      journey. My lord, I shall take leave to dine in my own room to-day,&rdquo;
+       continued her ladyship, as she quitted the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope her ladyship did not notice me,&rdquo; said Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, coming
+      from behind a window-curtain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Terry, what did you hide for?&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hide! I didn&rsquo;t hide, nor wouldn&rsquo;t from any man living, <i>let alone</i>
+      any woman.<a href="#linknote-11" name="linknoteref-11" id="linknoteref-11"><small>11</small></a>
+      Hide! no; but I just stood looking out of the window, behind this curtain,
+      that my poor Lady Clonbrony might not be discomfited and shocked by the
+      sight of one whom she can&rsquo;t abide, the very minute she come home. Oh, I&rsquo;ve
+      some consideration&mdash;it would have put her out of humour worse with
+      both of you too; and for that there&rsquo;s no need, as far as I see. So I&rsquo;ll
+      take myself off to my coffee-house to dine, and may be you may get her
+      down and into spirits again. But, for your lives, don&rsquo;t touch upon Ireland
+      this night, nor till she has fairly got the better of the marriage. <i>Apropos</i>&mdash;there&rsquo;s
+      my wager to Mordicai gone at a slap. It&rsquo;s I that ought to be scolding you,
+      my Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as well yet, not in point of
+      purse, may be. But I&rsquo;m not one of those that think that money&rsquo;s every
+      thing&mdash;though, I grant you, in this world there&rsquo;s nothing to be had
+      without it&mdash;love excepted,&mdash;which most people don&rsquo;t believe in&mdash;but
+      not I&mdash;in particular cases. So I leave you, with my blessing, and
+      I&rsquo;ve a notion, at this time, that is better than my company&mdash;your
+      most devoted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded by Lord Clonbrony to
+      stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre as he went out of the room, he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
+      an eye, in going, to your heart&rsquo;s ease too. When I played myself, I never
+      liked standers-by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he never could help
+      boasting of his discoveries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure; and followed his
+      equally judicious advice, not to touch upon Ireland this night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to be relieved from the
+      necessity of talking; and he indulged himself in considering what might be
+      passing in Miss Nugent&rsquo;s mind. She now appeared in remarkably good
+      spirits; for her aunt had given her a hint that she thought her out of
+      humour because she had not been permitted to be Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s
+      bride&rsquo;s-maid, and she was determined to exert herself to dispel this
+      notion. This it was now easy for her to do, because she had, by this time,
+      in her own imagination, found a plausible excuse for that coldness in Lord
+      Colambre&rsquo;s reception of her, by which she had at first been hurt: she had
+      settled it, that he had taken it for granted she was of his mother&rsquo;s
+      sentiments respecting Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s marriage, and that this idea, and
+      perhaps the apprehension of her reproaches, had caused this embarrassment&mdash;she
+      knew that she could easily set this misunderstanding right. Accordingly,
+      when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep about Buxton, and was
+      taking her afternoon&rsquo;s nap, as it was her custom to do when she had
+      neither cards nor company to keep her awake, Miss Nugent began to explain
+      her own sentiments, and to give Lord Colambre, as her aunt had desired, an
+      account of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s marriage had been
+      settled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the first place,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;let me assure you, that I rejoice in this
+      marriage: I think your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, is every way deserving
+      of my friend Miss Broadhurst; and this from me,&rdquo; said she, smiling, &ldquo;is no
+      slight eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress of their attachment;
+      and it has been founded on the perception of such excellent qualities on
+      each side, that I have no fear for its permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl&rsquo;s
+      honourable conduct in paying his father&rsquo;s debts, and his generosity to his
+      mother and sisters, whose fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him,
+      first pleased my friend. It was like what she would have done herself, and
+      like&mdash;in short, it is what few young men, as she said, of the present
+      day would do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going
+      without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he felt to be
+      right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of fashionable
+      young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a very different impression
+      on Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s mind; her esteem and admiration were excited by these
+      proofs of strength of character, and of just and good principles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you go on you will make me envious and jealous of my friend,&rdquo; said
+      Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You jealous!&mdash;Oh, it is too late now&mdash;besides, you cannot be
+      jealous, for you never loved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you&mdash;he loved,
+      and my friend saw it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was clear-sighted,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was clear-sighted,&rdquo; repeated Miss Nugent; &ldquo;but if you mean that she
+      was vain, and apt to fancy people in love with her, I can assure you that
+      you are mistaken. Never was woman, young or old, more clear-sighted to the
+      views of those by whom she was addressed. No flattery, no fashion, could
+      blind her judgment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a friend for life, too, I am sure you will allow&mdash;and she had
+      such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might have puzzled the
+      choice and turned the brain of any inferior person. Such a succession of
+      lovers as she has had this summer, ever since you went to Ireland&mdash;they
+      appeared and vanished like figures in a magic lantern. She had three noble
+      admirers&mdash;rank in three different forms offered themselves First came
+      in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank and gaming; then rank, very high
+      rank, over head and ears in debt. All of these were rejected; and, as they
+      moved off, I thought Mrs. Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next
+      came fashion, with his head, heart, and soul in his cravat&mdash;he
+      quickly made his bow, or rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of
+      snuff. Then came a man of wit&mdash;but it was wit without worth; and
+      presently came &lsquo;worth without wit.&rsquo; She preferred &lsquo;wit and worth united,&rsquo;
+      which she fortunately at last found, Lord Colambre, in your friend, Sir
+      Arthur Berryl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace, my girl!&rdquo; said her uncle, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to see you&rsquo;ve got up your
+      spirits again, though you were not to be bride&rsquo;s-maid. Well, I hope you&rsquo;ll
+      be bride soon&mdash;I&rsquo;m sure you ought to be&mdash;and you should think of
+      rewarding that poor Mr. Salisbury, who plagues me to death, whenever he
+      can catch hold of me, about you. He must have our definitive at last, you
+      know, Grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A silence ensued, which neither Miss Nugent nor Lord Colambre seemed able
+      or willing to break.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good company, faith, you three!&mdash;One of ye asleep, and the
+      other two saying nothing, to keep one awake. Colambre, have you no Dublin
+      news? Grace, have you no Buxton scandal? What was it Lady Clonbrony told
+      us you&rsquo;d tell us, about the oddness of Miss Broadhurst&rsquo;s settling her
+      marriage? Tell me that, for I love to hear odd things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you will not think it odd,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;One evening&mdash;but I
+      should begin by telling you that three of her admirers, besides Sir Arthur
+      Berryl, had followed her to Buxton, and had been paying their court to her
+      all the time we were there; and at last grew impatient for her decision.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, for her definitive!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony. Miss Nugent was put out
+      again, but resumed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So one evening, just before the dancing began, the gentlemen were all
+      standing round Miss Broadhurst; one of them said, &lsquo;I wish Miss Broadhurst
+      would decide&mdash;that whoever she dances with to-night should be her
+      partner for life: what a happy man he would be!&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;But how can I decide?&rsquo; said Miss Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;I wish I had a friend to plead for me!&rsquo; said one of the suitors, looking
+      at me.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Have you no friend of your own?&rsquo; said Miss Broadhurst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Plenty of friends,&rsquo; said the gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Plenty!&mdash;then you must be a very happy man,&rsquo; replied Miss
+      Broadhurst. &lsquo;Come,&rsquo; said she, laughing, &lsquo;I will dance with that man who
+      can convince me that he has, near relations excepted, one true friend in
+      the world! That man who has made the best friend, I dare say, will make
+      the best husband!&rsquo;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At that moment,&rdquo; continued Miss Nugent, &ldquo;I was certain who would be her
+      choice. The gentlemen all declared at first that they had abundance of
+      excellent friends&mdash;the best friends in the world! but when Miss
+      Broadhurst cross-examined them, as to what their friends had done for
+      them, or what they were willing to do, modern friendship dwindled into a
+      ridiculously small compass. I cannot give you the particulars of the
+      cross-examination, though it was conducted with great spirit and humour by
+      Miss Broadhurst; but I can tell you the result&mdash;that Sir Arthur
+      Berryl, by incontrovertible facts, and eloquence warm from the heart,
+      convinced every body present that he had the best friend in the world; and
+      Miss Broadhurst, as he finished speaking, gave him her hand, and he led
+      her off in triumph&mdash;So you see, Lord Colambre, you were at last the
+      cause of my friend&rsquo;s marriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to Lord Colambre as she spoke these words, with such an
+      affectionate smile, and such an expression of open, innocent tenderness in
+      her whole countenance, that our hero could hardly resist the impulse of
+      his passion&mdash;could hardly restrain himself from falling at her feet
+      that instant, and declaring his love. &ldquo;But St. Omar! St. Omar!&mdash;It
+      must not be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must be gone!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, pulling out his watch. &ldquo;It is time
+      to go to my club; and poor Terry will wonder what has become of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre instantly offered to accompany his father; much to Lord
+      Clonbrony&rsquo;s, and more to Miss Nugent&rsquo;s surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;after so long an absence, leave me!&mdash;Leave
+      his mother, with whom he always used to stay&mdash;on purpose to avoid me!
+      What can I have done to displease him? It is clear it was not about Miss
+      Broadhurst&rsquo;s marriage he was offended; for he looked pleased, and like
+      himself, whilst I was talking of that: but the moment afterwards, what a
+      constrained, unintelligible expression of countenance&mdash;and leaves me
+      to go to a club which he detests!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the gentlemen shut the door on leaving the room, Lady Clonbrony
+      awakened, and, starting up, exclaimed, &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter? Are they gone?
+      Is Colambre gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am, with my uncle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very odd! very odd of him to go and leave me! he always used to stay with
+      me&mdash;what did he say about me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, I have nothing to say about him, or about any thing, indeed,
+      for I&rsquo;m excessively tired and stupid&mdash;alone in Lon&rsquo;on&rsquo;s as bad as any
+      where else. Ring the bell, and we&rsquo;ll go to bed directly&mdash;if you have
+      no objection, Grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grace made no objection: Lady Clonbrony went to bed and to sleep in ten
+      minutes. Miss Nugent went to bed; but she lay awake, considering what
+      could be the cause of her cousin Colambre&rsquo;s hard unkindness, and of &ldquo;his
+      altered eye.&rdquo; She was openness itself; and she determined that, the first
+      moment she could speak to him alone, she would at once ask for an
+      explanation. With this resolution, she rose in the morning, and went down
+      to the breakfast-room, in hopes of meeting him, as it had formerly been
+      his custom to be early; and she expected to find him reading in his usual
+      place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      No&mdash;Lord Colambre was not in his accustomed place, reading in the
+      breakfast-room; nor did he make his appearance till both his father and
+      mother had been some time at breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning to you, my Lord Colambre,&rdquo; said his mother, in a reproachful
+      tone, the moment he entered; &ldquo;I am much obliged to you for your company
+      last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning to you, Colambre,&rdquo; said his father, in a more jocose tone of
+      reproach; &ldquo;I am obliged to you for your good company last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning to you, Lord Colambre,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent; and though she
+      endeavoured to throw all reproach from her looks, and to let none be heard
+      in her voice, yet there was a slight tremulous motion in that voice, which
+      struck our hero to the heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, ma&rsquo;am, for missing me,&rdquo; said he, addressing himself to his
+      mother: &ldquo;I stayed away but half an hour; I accompanied my father to St.
+      James&rsquo;s-street, and when I returned I found that every one had retired to
+      rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, was that the case?&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony: &ldquo;I own I thought it very
+      unlike you to leave me in that sort of way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, lest you should be jealous of that half hour when he was
+      accompanying me,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;I must remark, that, though I had
+      his body with me, I had none of his mind; that he left at home with you
+      ladies, or with some fair one across the water, for the deuce of two words
+      did he bestow upon me, with all his pretence of accompanying me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Colambre seems to have a fair chance of a pleasant breakfast,&rdquo; said
+      Miss Nugent, smiling; &ldquo;reproaches on all sides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard none on your side, Grace,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;and that&rsquo;s
+      the reason, I suppose, he wisely takes his seat beside you. But come, we
+      will not badger you any more, my dear boy. We have given him as fine a
+      complexion amongst us as if he had been out hunting these three hours:
+      have not we, Grace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When Colambre has been a season or two more in Lon&rsquo;on, he&rsquo;ll not be so
+      easily put out of countenance,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;you don&rsquo;t see young
+      men of fashion here blushing about nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, nor about any thing, my dear,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;but that&rsquo;s no
+      proof they do nothing they ought to blush for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What they do, there&rsquo;s no occasion for ladies to inquire,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Clonbrony; &ldquo;but this I know, that it&rsquo;s a great disadvantage to a young man
+      of a certain rank to blush; for no people, who live in a certain set, ever
+      do: and it is the most opposite thing possible to a certain air, which, I
+      own, I think Colambre wants; and now that he has done travelling in
+      Ireland, which is no use in <i>pint</i> of giving a gentleman a travelled
+      air, or any thing of that sort, I hope he will put himself under my
+      conduct for next winter&rsquo;s campaign in town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony looked as if he did not know how to look; and, after
+      drumming on the table for some seconds, said, &ldquo;Colambre, I told you how it
+      would be: that&rsquo;s a fatal hard condition of yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a hard condition, I hope, my dear father,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hard it must be, since it can&rsquo;t be fulfilled, or won&rsquo;t be fulfilled,
+      which comes to the same thing,&rdquo; replied Lord Clonbrony, sighing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am persuaded, sir, that it will be fulfilled,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;I
+      am persuaded that, when my mother hears the truth, and the whole truth&mdash;when
+      she finds that your happiness, and the happiness of her whole family,
+      depend upon her yielding her taste on one subject&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I see now what you are about,&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;you are coming
+      round with your persuasions and prefaces to ask me to give up Lon&rsquo;on, and
+      go back with you to Ireland, my lord. You may save yourselves the trouble,
+      all of you; for no earthly persuasions shall make me do it. I will never
+      give up my taste on that <i>pint</i>. My happiness has a right to be as
+      much considered as your father&rsquo;s, Colambre, or anybody&rsquo;s; and, in one
+      word, I won&rsquo;t do it,&rdquo; cried she, rising angrily from the breakfast table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! did not I tell you how it would be?&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother has not heard me yet,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, laying his hand upon
+      his mother&rsquo;s arm, as she attempted to pass: &ldquo;hear me, madam, for your own
+      sake. You do not know what will happen, this very day&mdash;this very
+      hour, perhaps&mdash;if you do not listen to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what will happen?&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, stopping short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, indeed; she little knows,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;what&rsquo;s hanging over
+      her head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hanging over my head?&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, looking up; &ldquo;nonsense!&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An execution, madam!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gracious me! an execution!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, sitting down again; &ldquo;but
+      I heard you talk of an execution months ago, my lord, before my son went
+      to Ireland, and it blew over&mdash;I heard no more of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It won&rsquo;t blow over now,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll hear more of it
+      now. Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay it was, you may remember, that settled it then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, and can&rsquo;t he settle it now? Send for him, since he understands
+      these cases; and I will ask him to dinner myself, for your sake, and be
+      very civil to him, my lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All your civility, either for my sake or your own, will not signify a
+      straw, my dear, in this case&mdash;any thing that poor Terry could do,
+      he&rsquo;d do, and welcome, without it; but he can do nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&mdash;that&rsquo;s very extraordinary. But I&rsquo;m clear no one dare to
+      bring a real execution against us in earnest; and you are only trying to
+      frighten me to your purpose, like a child; but it shan&rsquo;t do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, my dear; you&rsquo;ll see&mdash;too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A knock at the house door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it?&mdash;What is it?&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony, growing very pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre changed colour too, and ran down stairs. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let &lsquo;em let
+      any body in, for your life, Colambre; under any pretence,&rdquo; cried Lord
+      Clonbrony, calling from the head of the stairs: then running to the
+      window, &ldquo;By all that&rsquo;s good, it&rsquo;s Mordicai himself! and the people with
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lean your head on me, my dear aunt,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent: Lady Clonbrony
+      leant back, trembling, and ready to faint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he&rsquo;s walking off now; the rascal could not get in&mdash;safe for the
+      present!&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony, rubbing his hands, and repeating, &ldquo;safe
+      for the present!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Safe for the present!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre, coming again into the
+      room. &ldquo;Safe for the present hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He could not get in, I suppose.&mdash;Oh, I warned all the servants
+      well,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;and so did Terry. Ay, there&rsquo;s the rascal
+      Mordicai walking off, at the end of the street; I know his walk a mile
+      off. Gad! I can breathe again. I am glad he&rsquo;s gone. But he will come back
+      and always lie in wait, and some time or other, when we&rsquo;re off our guard
+      (unawares), he&rsquo;ll slide in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Slide in! Oh, horrid!&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony, sitting up, and wiping away
+      the water which Miss Nugent had sprinkled on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you much alarmed?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, with a voice of tenderness,
+      looking at his mother first, but his eyes fixing on Miss Nugent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shockingly!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;I never thought it would <i>reelly</i>
+      come to this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will really come to much more, my dear,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;that
+      you may depend upon, unless you prevent it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord! What can I do?&mdash;I know nothing of business: how should I, Lord
+      Clonbrony? But I know there&rsquo;s Colambre&mdash;I was always told that when
+      he was of age, every thing should be settled; and why can&rsquo;t he settle it
+      when he&rsquo;s upon the spot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And upon one condition, I will,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre; &ldquo;at what loss to
+      myself, my dear mother, I need not mention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will mention it,&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony: &ldquo;at the loss it will be of
+      nearly half the estate he would have had, if we had not spent it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Loss! Oh, I am excessively sorry my son&rsquo;s to be at such a loss&mdash;it
+      must not be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It cannot be otherwise,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;nor it can&rsquo;t be this way
+      either, my Lady Clonbrony, unless you comply with his condition, and
+      consent to return to Ireland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot&mdash;I will not,&rdquo; replied Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;Is this your
+      condition, Colambre?&mdash;I take it exceedingly ill of you. I think it
+      very unkind, and unhandsome, and ungenerous, and undutiful of you,
+      Colambre; you my son!&rdquo; She poured forth a torrent of reproaches; then came
+      to entreaties and tears. But our hero, prepared for this, had steeled his
+      mind; and he stood resolved not to indulge his own feelings, or to yield
+      to caprice or persuasion, but to do that which he knew was best for the
+      happiness of hundreds of tenants, who depended upon them&mdash;best for
+      both his father and his mother&rsquo;s ultimate happiness and respectability.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all in vain,&rdquo; cried Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;I have no resource but one, and
+      I must condescend now to go to him this minute, for Mordicai will be back
+      and seize all&mdash;I must sign and leave all to Garraghty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sign, sign, my lord, and settle with Garraghty. Colambre, I&rsquo;ve
+      heard all the complaints you brought over against that man. My lord spent
+      half the night telling them to me: but all agents are bad, I suppose; at
+      any rate I can&rsquo;t help it&mdash;sign, sign, my lord; he has money&mdash;yes,
+      do; go and settle with him, my lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same moment, stopped Lord
+      Clonbrony as he was quitting the room, and then approached Lady Clonbrony
+      with supplicating looks; but she turned her head to the other side, and,
+      as if putting away their entreaties, made a repelling motion with both her
+      hands, and exclaimed, &ldquo;No, Grace Nugent!&mdash;no, Colambre&mdash;no&mdash;no,
+      Colambre! I&rsquo;ll never hear of leaving Lon&rsquo;on&mdash;there&rsquo;s no living out of
+      Lon&rsquo;on&mdash;I can&rsquo;t, I won&rsquo;t live out of Lon&rsquo;on, I say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her son saw that the <i>Londonomania</i> was now stronger than ever upon
+      her, but resolved to make one desperate appeal to her natural feelings,
+      which, though smothered, he could not believe were wholly extinguished: he
+      caught her repelling hands, and pressing them with respectful tenderness
+      to his lips, &ldquo;Oh, my dear mother, you once loved your son,&rdquo; said he;
+      &ldquo;loved him better than any thing in this world: if one spark of affection
+      for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him, if he pass the bounds&mdash;bounds
+      he never passed before&mdash;of filial duty. Mother, in compliance with
+      your wishes my father left Ireland&mdash;left his home, his duties, his
+      friends, his natural connexions, and for many years he has lived in
+      England, and you have spent many seasons in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, in the very best company&mdash;in the very first circles,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Clonbrony; &ldquo;cold as the high-bred English are said to be in general to
+      strangers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Lord Colambre, &ldquo;the very best company (if you mean the most
+      fashionable) have accepted of our entertainments. We have forced our way
+      into their frozen circles; we have been permitted to breathe in these
+      elevated regions of fashion; we have it to say, that the Duke of <i>This</i>,
+      and my Lady <i>That</i>, are of our acquaintance.&mdash;We may say more:
+      we may boast that we have vied with those whom we could never equal. And
+      at what expense have we done all this? For a single season, the last
+      winter (I will go no farther), at the expense of a great part of your
+      timber, the growth of a century&mdash;swallowed in the entertainments of
+      one winter in London! Our hills to be bare for another half century to
+      come! But let the trees go: I think more of your tenants&mdash;of those
+      left under the tyranny of a bad agent, at the expense of every comfort,
+      every hope they enjoyed!&mdash;tenants, who were thriving and prosperous;
+      who used to smile upon you, and to bless you both! In one cottage, I have
+      seen&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Lord Clonbrony, unable to restrain his emotion, hurried out of the
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I am sure it is not my fault,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;for I brought
+      my lord a large fortune: and I am confident I have not, after all, spent
+      more any season, in the best company, than he has among a set of low
+      people, in his muddling, discreditable way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how has he been reduced to this?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Did he not
+      formerly live with gentlemen, his equals, in his own country; his
+      contemporaries? Men of the first station and character, whom I met in
+      Dublin, spoke of him in a manner that gratified the heart of his son: he
+      was respectable and respected, at his own home; but when he was forced
+      away from that home, deprived of his objects and his occupations,
+      compelled to live in London, or at watering-places, where he could find no
+      employments that were suitable to him&mdash;set down, late in life, in the
+      midst of strangers, to him cold and reserved&mdash;himself too proud to
+      bend to those who disdained him as an Irishman&mdash;is he not more to be
+      pitied than blamed for&mdash;yes, I, his son, must say the word&mdash;the
+      degradation which has ensued? And do not the feelings, which have this
+      moment forced him to leave the room, show of what he is capable? Oh,
+      mother!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, throwing himself at Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s feet,
+      &ldquo;restore my father to himself! Should such feelings be wasted?&mdash;No;
+      give them again to expand in benevolent, in kind, useful actions; give him
+      again to his tenantry, his duties, his country, his home; return to that
+      home yourself, dear mother! leave all the nonsense of high life&mdash;scorn
+      the impertinence of these dictators of fashion, who, in return for all the
+      pains we take to imitate, to court them&mdash;in return for the sacrifice
+      of health, fortune, peace of mind&mdash;bestow sarcasm, contempt,
+      ridicule, and mimicry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Colambre! Colambre! mimicry&mdash;I&rsquo;ll never believe it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me&mdash;believe me, mother; for I speak of what I know. Scorn
+      them&mdash;quit them! Return to an unsophisticated people&mdash;to poor,
+      but grateful hearts, still warm with the remembrance of your kindness,
+      still blessing you for favours long since conferred, ever praying to see
+      you once more. Believe me, for I speak of what I know&mdash;your son has
+      heard these prayers, has felt these blessings. Here! at my heart felt, and
+      still feel them, when I was not known to be your son, in the cottage of
+      the widow O&rsquo;Neil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did you see the widow O&rsquo;Neil! and does she remember me?&rdquo; said Lady
+      Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Remember you! and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept in the bed&mdash;I would
+      tell you more, but I cannot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! I never should have thought they would have remembered me so long!
+      poor people!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought all in Ireland must have forgotten me, it is now so long since
+      I was at home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can answer for that.
+      Return home, my dearest mother&mdash;let me see you once more among your
+      natural friends, beloved, respected, happy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, return! let us return home!&rdquo; cried Miss Nugent, with a voice of great
+      emotion. &ldquo;Return, let us return home! My beloved aunt, speak to us! say
+      that you grant our request!&rdquo; She kneeled beside Lord Colambre, as she
+      spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible to resist that voice, that look?&rdquo; thought Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If any body knew,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;if any body could conceive, how
+      I detest the sight, the thoughts of that old yellow damask furniture, in
+      the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, starting up, and looking at his
+      mother in stupified astonishment; &ldquo;is <i>that</i> what you are thinking
+      of, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The yellow damask furniture!&rdquo; said her niece, smiling. &ldquo;Oh, if that&rsquo;s
+      all, that shall never offend your eyes again. Aunt, my painted velvet
+      chairs are finished; and trust the furnishing that room to me. The legacy
+      lately left me cannot be better applied&mdash;you shall see how
+      beautifully it will be furnished.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, if I had money, I should like to do it myself; but it would take an
+      immensity to new furnish Clonbrony Castle properly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The furniture in this house,&rdquo; said Miss Nugent, looking round&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would do a great deal towards it, I declare,&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;that
+      never struck me before, Grace, I protest&mdash;and what would not suit one
+      might sell or exchange here&mdash;and it would be a great amusement to me&mdash;and
+      I should like to set the fashion of something better in that country. And
+      I declare now, I should like to see those poor people, and that widow
+      O&rsquo;Neil. I do assure you, I think I was happier at home; only that one
+      gets, I don&rsquo;t know how, a notion, one&rsquo;s nobody out of Lon&rsquo;on. But, after
+      all, there&rsquo;s many drawbacks in Lon&rsquo;on&mdash;and many people are very
+      impertinent, I&rsquo;ll allow&mdash;and if there&rsquo;s a woman in the world I hate,
+      it is Mrs. Dareville&mdash;and, if I was leaving Lon&rsquo;on, I should not
+      regret Lady Langdale neither&mdash;and Lady St. James is as cold as a
+      stone. Colambre may well say <i>frozen circles</i>&mdash;these sort of
+      people are really very cold, and have, I do believe, no hearts. I don&rsquo;t
+      verily think there is one of them would regret me more&mdash;Hey! let me
+      see, Dublin&mdash;the winter&mdash;Merrion-square&mdash;new furnished&mdash;and
+      the summer&mdash;Clonbrony Castle!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till her mind should have
+      worked itself clear. One great obstacle had been removed; and now that the
+      yellow damask had been taken out of her imagination, they no longer
+      despaired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room. &ldquo;What hopes?&mdash;any? if not,
+      let me go.&rdquo; He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s countenance&mdash;hope
+      in the face of his son and niece. &ldquo;My dear, dear Lady Clonbrony, make us
+      all happy by one word,&rdquo; said he, kissing her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You never kissed me so since we left Ireland before,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Clonbrony. &ldquo;Well, since it must be so, let us go,&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I ever see such joy!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, clasping his hands: &ldquo;I
+      never expected such joy in my life!&mdash;I must go and tell poor Terry!&rdquo;
+       and off he ran.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, since we are to go,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;pray let us go
+      immediately, before the thing gets wind, else I shall have Mrs. Dareville,
+      and Lady Langdale, and Lady St. James, and all the world, coming to
+      condole with me, just to satisfy their own curiosity: and then, Miss
+      Pratt, who hears every thing that every body says, and more than they say,
+      will come and tell me how it is reported every where that we are ruined.
+      Oh! I never could bear to stay and hear all this. I&rsquo;ll tell you what I&rsquo;ll
+      do&mdash;you are to be of age soon, Colambre,&mdash;very well, there are
+      some papers for me to sign,&mdash;I must stay to put my name to them, and,
+      that done, that minute I&rsquo;ll leave you and Lord Clonbrony to settle all the
+      rest; and I&rsquo;ll get into my carriage, with Grace, and go down to Buxton
+      again; where you can come for me, and take me up, when you&rsquo;re all ready to
+      go to Ireland&mdash;and we shall be so far on our way. Colambre, what do
+      you say to this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, if you like it, madam,&rdquo; said he, giving one hasty glance at Miss
+      Nugent, and withdrawing his eyes, &ldquo;it is the best possible arrangement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So,&rdquo; thought Grace, &ldquo;that is the best possible arrangement which takes us
+      away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I like it!&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;to be sure I do, or I should not
+      propose it. What is Colambre thinking of? I know, Grace, at all events,
+      what you and I must think of&mdash;of having the furniture packed up, and
+      settling what&rsquo;s to go, and what&rsquo;s to be exchanged, and all that. Now, my
+      dear, go and write a note directly to Mr. Soho, and bid him come himself,
+      immediately: and we&rsquo;ll go and make out a catalogue this instant of what
+      furniture I will have packed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired. &ldquo;I go to my
+      business, Colambre: and I leaven you to settle yours in peace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In peace!&mdash;Never was our hero&rsquo;s mind less at peace than at this
+      moment. The more his heart felt that it was painful, the more his reason
+      told him it was necessary that he should part from Grace Nugent. To his
+      union with her there was an obstacle which his prudence told him ought to
+      be insurmountable; yet he felt that, during the few days he had been with
+      her, the few hours he had been near her, he had, with his utmost power
+      over himself, scarcely been master of his passion, or capable of
+      concealing its object. It could not have been done but for her perfect
+      simplicity and innocence. But how could this be supported on his part? How
+      could he venture to live with this charming girl? How could he settle at
+      home? What resource?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His mind turned towards the army: he thought that abroad, and in active
+      life, he should lose all the painful recollections, and drive from his
+      heart all the sentiments, which could now be only a source of unavailing
+      regret. But his mother&mdash;his mother, who had now yielded her own taste
+      to his entreaties, for the good of her family&mdash;she expected him to
+      return and live with her in Ireland. Though not actually promised or
+      specified, he knew that she took it for granted; that it was upon this
+      hope, this faith, she consented: he knew that she would be shocked at the
+      bare idea of his going into the army. There was one chance&mdash;our hero
+      tried, at this moment, to think it the best possible chance&mdash;that
+      Miss Nugent might marry Mr. Salisbury, and settle in England. On this idea
+      he relied, as the only means of extricating him from difficulties.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was necessary to turn his thoughts immediately to business, to execute
+      his promises to his father. Two great objects were now to be accomplished&mdash;the
+      payment of his father&rsquo;s debts, and the settlement of the Irish agent&rsquo;s
+      accounts; and, in transacting this complicated business, he derived
+      considerable assistance from Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, and from Sir Arthur
+      Berryl&rsquo;s solicitor, Mr. Edwards. Whilst acting for Sir Arthur, on a former
+      occasion, Lord Colambre had gained the entire confidence of this
+      solicitor, who was a man of the first eminence. Mr. Edwards took the
+      papers and Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s title-deeds home with him, saying that he
+      would give an answer the next morning. He then waited upon Lord Colambre,
+      and informed him that he had just received a letter from Sir Arthur
+      Berryl, who, with the consent and desire of his lady, requested that
+      whatever money might be required by Lord Clonbrony should be immediately
+      supplied on their account, without waiting till Lord Colambre should be of
+      age, as the ready money might be of some convenience to him in
+      accelerating the journey to Ireland, which Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl knew
+      was his lordship&rsquo;s object. Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay now supplied Mr. Edwards with
+      accurate information as to the demands that were made upon Lord Clonbrony,
+      and of the respective characters of the creditors. Mr. Edwards undertook
+      to settle with the fair claimants; Sir Terence with the rogues: so that by
+      the advancement of ready money from <i>the Berryls</i>, and by the
+      detection of false and exaggerated charges which Sir Terence made among
+      the inferior class, the debts were reduced nearly to one-half of their
+      former amount. Mordicai, who had been foiled in his vile attempt to become
+      sole creditor, had, however, a demand of more than seven thousand pounds
+      upon Lord Clonbrony, which he had raised to this enormous sum in six or
+      seven years, by means well known to himself. He stood the foremost in the
+      list: not from the greatness of the sum; but from the danger of his adding
+      to it the expenses of law. Sir Terence undertook to pay the whole with
+      five thousand pounds. Lord Clonbrony thought it impossible: the solicitor
+      thought it improvident, because he knew that upon a trial a much greater
+      abatement would be allowed; but Lord Colambre was determined, from the
+      present embarrassments of his own situation, to leave nothing undone that
+      could be accomplished immediately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir Terence, pleased with his commission, immediately went to Mordicai.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Sir Terence,&rdquo; said Mordicai, &ldquo;I hope you are come to pay me my
+      hundred guineas; for Miss Broadhurst is married!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Mister Mordicai, what then? The ides of March are come, but not
+      gone! Stay, if you plase, Mister Mordicai, till Lady-day, when it becomes
+      due: in the mean time, I have a handful, or rather an armful, of
+      bank-notes for you, from my Lord Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph.&rdquo; said Mordicai: &ldquo;how&rsquo;s that? he&rsquo;ll not be of age these three
+      days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t matter for that: he has sent me to look over your accounts, and to
+      hope that you will make some small ABATEMENT in the total.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harkee, Sir Terence&mdash;you think yourself very clever in things of
+      this sort, but you&rsquo;ve mistaken your man: I have an execution for the
+      whole, and I&rsquo;ll be d&mdash;&mdash;d if all your cunning shall MAKE me take
+      up with part!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be <i>aisy</i>, Mister Mordicai!&mdash;you sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t make me break your
+      bones, nor make me drop one actionable word against your high character;
+      for I know your clerk there, with that long goose-quill behind his ear,
+      would be ready evidence again&rsquo; me. But I beg to know, in one word, whether
+      you will take five thousand down, and GIVE Lord Clonbrony a discharge?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Terence! nor six thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds. My
+      demand is seven thousand one hundred and thirty pounds, odd shillings: if
+      you have that money, pay it; if not, I know how to get it, and along with
+      it complete revenge for all the insults I have received from that
+      greenhorn, his son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Paddy Brady!&rdquo; cried Sir Terence, &ldquo;do you hear that? Remember that word <i>revenge</i>!&mdash;Mind
+      I call you to witness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, sir, will you raise a rebellion among my workmen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Mordicai, no rebellion; and I hope you won&rsquo;t cut the boy&rsquo;s ears
+      off for listening to a little of the brogue&mdash;so listen, my good lad.
+      Now, Mr. Mordicai, I offer you here, before little goosequill, 5000<i>l.</i>
+      ready penny&mdash;take it, or leave it: take your money, and leave your
+      revenge; or take your revenge, and lose your money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir Terence, I value neither your threats nor your cunning. Good morning
+      to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning to you, Mr. Mordicai&mdash;but not kindly! Mr. Edwards, the
+      solicitor, has been at the office to take off the execution: so now you
+      may have law to your heart&rsquo;s content! And it was only to plase the young
+      lord that the <i>ould</i> one consented to my carrying this bundle to
+      you,&rdquo; showing the bank-notes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Edwards employed!&rdquo; cried Mordicai. &ldquo;Why, how the devil did Lord
+      Clonbrony get into such hands as his? The execution taken off! Well, sir,
+      go to law&mdash;I am ready for you. Jack Latitat IS A MATCH for your sober
+      solicitor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning again to you, Mr. Mordicai: we&rsquo;re fairly out of your
+      clutches, and we have enough to do with our money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Sir Terence, I must allow you have a very wheedling way&mdash;Here,
+      Mr. Thompson, make out a receipt for Lord Clonbrony: I never go to law
+      with an old customer, if I can help it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This business settled, Mr. Soho was next to be dealt with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came at Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s summons; and was taking directions with the
+      utmost <i>sang froid</i>, for packing up and sending off the very
+      furniture for which he was not paid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre called him into his father&rsquo;s study; and, producing his bill,
+      he began to point out various articles which were charged at prices that
+      were obviously extravagant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, really, my lord, they are <i>abundantly</i> extravagant: if I
+      charged vulgar prices, I should be only a vulgar tradesman. I, however, am
+      not a broker, nor a Jew. Of the article superintendence, which is only 500<i>l.</i>,
+      I cannot abate a doit: on the rest of the bill, if you mean to offer <i>ready</i>,
+      I mean, without any negotiation, to abate thirty per cent., and I hope
+      that is a fair and gentlemanly offer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Soho, there is your money!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My Lord Colambre! I would give the contents of three such bills to be
+      sure of such noblemanly conduct as yours. Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s furniture shall
+      be safely packed, without costing her a farthing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the help of Mr. Edwards, the solicitor, every other claim was soon
+      settled; and Lord Clonbrony, for the first time since he left Ireland,
+      found himself out of debt, and out of danger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Nick&rsquo;s account could not be settled in London. Lord Colambre had
+      detected numerous false charges, and sundry impositions: the land, which
+      had been purposely let to run wild, so far from yielding any rent, was
+      made a source of constant expense, as remaining still unset: this was a
+      large tract, for which St. Dennis had at length offered a small rent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon a fair calculation of the profits of the ground, and from other items
+      in the account, Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., appeared at last to be, not the
+      creditor, but the debtor to Lord Clonbrony. He was dismissed with
+      disgrace; which perhaps he might not have felt, if it had not been
+      accompanied by pecuniary loss, and followed by the fear of losing his
+      other agencies, and by the dread of immediate bankruptcy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Burke was appointed agent in his stead to the Clonbrony as well as the
+      Colambre estate. His appointment was announced to him by the following
+      letter:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;TO MRS. BURKE, AT COLAMBRE.
+
+    &ldquo;DEAR MADAM,
+
+    &ldquo;The traveller whom you so hospitably received some months ago
+    was Lord Colambre; he now writes to you in his proper person. He
+    promised you that he would, as far as it might be in his power, do
+    justice to Mr. Burke&rsquo;s conduct and character, by representing what
+    he had done for Lord Clonbrony in the town of Colambre, and in the
+    whole management of the tenantry and property under his care.
+
+    &ldquo;Happily for my father, my dear madam, he is now as fully
+    convinced as you could wish him to be of Mr. Burke&rsquo;s merits; and
+    he begs me to express his sense of the obligations he is under to
+    him and to you. He entreats that you will pardon the impropriety
+    of a letter, which, as I assured you the moment I saw it, he never
+    wrote or read.
+
+    &ldquo;He hopes that you will forget that such a letter was ever
+    received, and that you will use your influence with Mr. Burke
+    to induce him to continue to our family his regard and valuable
+    services. Lord Clonbrony encloses a power of attorney, enabling
+    Mr. Burke to act in future for him, if Mr. Burke will do him that
+    favour, in managing the Clonbrony as well as the Colambre estate.
+
+    &ldquo;Lord Clonbrony will be in Ireland in the course of next month,
+    and intends to have the pleasure of soon paying his respects in
+    person to Mr. Burke, at Colambre.
+
+    &ldquo;I am, dear madam,
+
+    &ldquo;Your obliged guest,
+
+    &ldquo;And faithful servant,
+
+    &ldquo;COLAMBRE.
+
+    &ldquo;<i>Grosvenor-square, London</i>.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was so continually occupied with business, during the days
+      previous to his coming of age, every morning at his solicitor&rsquo;s chambers,
+      every evening in his father&rsquo;s study, that Miss Nugent never saw him but at
+      breakfast or dinner; and, though she watched for it most anxiously, never
+      could find an opportunity of speaking to him alone, or of asking an
+      explanation of the change and inconsistencies of his manner. At last, she
+      began to think, that, in the midst of so much business of importance, by
+      which he seemed harassed, she should do wrong to torment him, by speaking
+      of any small uneasiness that concerned only herself. She determined to
+      suppress her doubts, to keep her feelings to herself, and endeavour, by
+      constant kindness, to regain that place in his affections, which she
+      imagined that she had lost. &ldquo;Every thing will go right again,&rdquo; thought
+      she, &ldquo;and we shall all be happy, when he returns with us to Ireland&mdash;to
+      that dear home which he loves as well as I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The day Lord Colambre was of age, the first thing he did was, to sign a
+      bond for five thousand pounds, Miss Nugent&rsquo;s fortune, which had been lent
+      to his father, who was her guardian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This, sir, I believe,&rdquo; said he, giving it to his father as soon as
+      signed, &ldquo;this, I believe, is the first debt you would wish to have
+      secured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well thought of, my dear boy!&mdash;God bless you!&mdash;that has weighed
+      more upon my conscience and heart than all the rest, though I never said
+      any thing about it. I used, whenever I met Mr. Salisbury, to wish myself
+      fairly down at the centre of the earth: not that he ever thought of
+      fortune, I&rsquo;m sure; for he often told me, and I believed him, he would
+      rather have Miss Nugent without a penny, if he could get her, than the
+      first fortune in the empire. But I&rsquo;m glad she will not go to him
+      pennyless, for all that; and by my fault, especially. There, there&rsquo;s my
+      name to it&mdash;do witness it, Terry. But, Colambre, you must give it to
+      her&mdash;you must take it to Grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me, sir; it is no gift of mine&mdash;it is a debt of yours. I beg
+      you will take the bond to her yourself, my dear father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear son, you must not always have your own way, and hide every thing
+      good you do, or give me the honour of it&mdash;I won&rsquo;t be the jay in
+      borrowed feathers. I have borrowed enough in my life, and I&rsquo;ve done with
+      borrowing now, thanks to you, Colambre&mdash;so come along with me; for
+      I&rsquo;ll be hanged if ever I give this joint bond to Miss Nugent, unless you
+      are with me. Leave Lady Clonbrony here to sign these papers. Terry will
+      witness them properly, and do you come along with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And pray, my lord,&rdquo; said her ladyship, &ldquo;order the carriage to the door;
+      for, as soon as you have my signature, I hope you&rsquo;ll let me off to
+      Buxton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, certainly&mdash;the carriage is ordered&mdash;every thing ready, my
+      dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And pray tell Grace to be ready,&rdquo; added Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s not necessary; for she is always ready,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+      &ldquo;Come, Colambre,&rdquo; added he, taking his son under the arm, and carrying him
+      up to Miss Nugent&rsquo;s dressing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They knocked, and were admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ready!&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;ay, always ready&mdash;so I said. Here&rsquo;s
+      Colambre, my darling,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;has secured your fortune to you to
+      my heart&rsquo;s content; but he would not condescend to come up to tell you so,
+      till I made him. Here&rsquo;s the bond; and now, all I have to ask of you,
+      Colambre, is, to persuade her to marry out of hand, that I may see her
+      happy before I die. Now my heart&rsquo;s at ease; I can meet Mr. Salisbury with
+      a safe conscience. One kiss, my little Grace. If any body can persuade
+      you, I&rsquo;m sure it&rsquo;s that man that&rsquo;s now leaning against the mantel-piece.
+      It&rsquo;s Colambre will, or your heart&rsquo;s not made like mine&mdash;so I leave
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And out of the room walked he, leaving his poor son in as awkward,
+      embarrassing, and painful a situation as could well be conceived. Half a
+      dozen indistinct ideas crossed his mind; quick conflicting feelings made
+      his heart beat and stop. And how it would have ended, if he had been left
+      to himself; whether he would have stood or fallen, have spoken or have
+      continued silent, can never now be known, for all was decided without the
+      action of his will. He was awakened from his trance by these simple words
+      from Miss Nugent: &ldquo;I&rsquo;m much obliged to you, cousin Colambre&mdash;more
+      obliged to you for your kindness in thinking of me first, in the midst of
+      all your other business, than by your securing my fortune. Friendship&mdash;and
+      your friendship&mdash;is worth more to me than fortune. May I believe that
+      is secured?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe it! Oh, Grace, can you doubt it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not; it would make me too unhappy, I will not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is enough&mdash;I am satisfied&mdash;I ask no farther explanation.
+      You are truth itself&mdash;one word from you is security sufficient. We
+      are friends for life,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;are not we?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are&mdash;and therefore sit down, cousin Grace, and let me claim the
+      privilege of friendship, and speak to you of him who aspires to be more
+      than your friend for life, Mr.&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Salisbury!&rdquo; said Miss Nugent; &ldquo;I saw him yesterday. We had a very
+      long conversation; I believe he understands my sentiments perfectly, and
+      that he no longer thinks of being more to me than a friend for life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have refused him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I have a high opinion of Mr. Salisbury&rsquo;s understanding, a great
+      esteem for his character; I like his manners and conversation; but I do
+      not love him, and, therefore, you know, I could not marry him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Miss Nugent, with a high opinion, a great esteem, and liking
+      his manners and conversation, in such a well-regulated mind as yours, can
+      there be a better foundation for love?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an excellent foundation,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;but I never went any farther
+      than the foundation; and, indeed, I never wished to proceed any farther.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre scarcely dared to ask why; but after some pause he said, &ldquo;I
+      don&rsquo;t wish to intrude upon your confidence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot intrude upon my confidence; I am ready to give it to you
+      entirely, frankly; I hesitated only because another person was concerned.
+      Do you remember, at my aunt&rsquo;s gala, a lady who danced with Mr. Salisbury?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A lady with whom you and Mr. Salisbury were talking, just before supper,
+      in the Turkish tent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As we went down to supper, you told me you had had a delightful
+      conversation with her; that you thought her a charming woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A charming woman!&mdash;I have not the slightest recollection of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you told me that she and Mr. Salisbury had been praising me <i>à
+      l&rsquo;envie l&rsquo;une de l&rsquo;autre</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I recollect her now perfectly,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;but what of
+      her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is the woman who, I hope, will be Mrs. Salisbury. Ever since I have
+      been acquainted with them both, I have seen that they were suited to each
+      other; I fancy, indeed I am almost sure, that she could love him, tenderly
+      love him&mdash;and, I know, I could not. But my own sentiments, you may be
+      sure, are all I ever told Mr. Salisbury.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But of your own sentiments you may not be sure,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;and
+      I see no reason why you should give him up from false generosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Generosity!&rdquo; interrupted Miss Nugent; &ldquo;you totally misunderstand me;
+      there is no generosity, nothing for me to give up in the case. I did not
+      refuse Mr. Salisbury from generosity, but because I did not love him.
+      Perhaps my seeing early what I have just mentioned to you prevented me
+      from thinking of him as a lover; but, from whatever cause, I certainly
+      never felt love for Mr. Salisbury, nor any of that pity which is said to
+      lead to love: perhaps,&rdquo; added she, smiling, &ldquo;because I was aware that he
+      would be so much better off after I refused him&mdash;so much happier with
+      one suited to him in age, talents, fortune, and love&mdash;&lsquo;What bliss,
+      did he but know his bliss,&rsquo; were <i>his</i>.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he but know his bliss!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre; &ldquo;but is not he the
+      best judge of his own bliss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And am not I the best judge of mine?&rdquo; said Miss Nugent: &ldquo;I go no
+      farther.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are; and I have no right to go farther. Yet, this much permit me to
+      say, my dear Grace, that it would give me sincere pleasure, that is, real
+      satisfaction, to see you happily&mdash;established.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, my dear Lord Colambre; but you spoke that like a man of
+      seventy at least, with the most solemn gravity of demeanour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I meant to be serious, not solemn,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, endeavouring to
+      change his tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There now,&rdquo; said she, in a playful tone, &ldquo;you have <i>seriously</i>
+      accomplished the task my good uncle set you; so I will report well of you
+      to him, and certify that you did all that in you lay to exhort me to
+      marry; that you have even assured me that it would give you sincere
+      pleasure, that is, real satisfaction, to see me happily established.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Grace, if you knew how much I felt when I said that, you would spare
+      this raillery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will be serious&mdash;I am most seriously convinced of the sincerity of
+      your affection for me; I know my happiness is your object in all you have
+      said, and I thank you from my heart for the interest you take about me.
+      But really and truly I do not wish to marry. This is not a mere
+      commonplace speech; but I have not yet seen any man I could love. I am
+      happy as I am, especially now we are all going to dear Ireland, home, to
+      live together: you cannot conceive with what pleasure I look forward to
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was not vain; but love quickly sees love, or foresees the
+      probability, the possibility, of its existence. He saw that Miss Nugent
+      might love him tenderly, passionately; but that duty, habit, the
+      prepossession that it was impossible she could marry her cousin Colambre,&mdash;a
+      prepossession instilled into her by his mother&mdash;had absolutely
+      prevented her from ever yet thinking of him as a lover. He saw the hazard
+      for her, he felt the danger for himself. Never had she appeared to him so
+      attractive as at this moment, when he felt the hope that he could obtain
+      return of love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But St. Omar!&mdash;Why! why is she a St. Omar?&mdash;illegitimate!&mdash;&lsquo;No
+      St. Omar <i>sans reproche</i>.&rsquo; My wife she cannot be&mdash;I will not
+      engage her affections.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Swift as thoughts in moments of strong feeling pass in the mind without
+      being put into words, our hero thought all this, and determined, cost what
+      it would, to act honourably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You spoke of my returning to Ireland, my dear Grace. I have not yet told
+      you my plans.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plans! are not you returning with us?&rdquo; said she, precipitately; &ldquo;are not
+      you going to Ireland&mdash;home&mdash;with us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No:&mdash;I am going to serve a campaign or two abroad. I think every
+      young man in these times&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens! What does this mean? What can you mean?&rdquo; cried she, fixing
+      her eyes upon his, as if she would read his very soul. &ldquo;Why? what reason?&mdash;Oh,
+      tell me the truth&mdash;and at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His change of colour&mdash;his hand that trembled, and withdrew from hers&mdash;the
+      expression of his eyes as they met hers&mdash;revealed the truth to her at
+      once. As it flashed across her mind, she started back; her face grew
+      crimson, and, in the same instant, pale as death.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;you see, you feel the truth now,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. &ldquo;You see,
+      you feel, that I love you&mdash;passionately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, let me not hear it!&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;I must not&mdash;ought not. Never
+      till this moment did such a thought cross my mind&mdash;I thought it
+      impossible&mdash;Oh, make me think so still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will&mdash;it <i>is</i> impossible that we can ever he united.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I always thought so,&rdquo; said she, taking breath with a deep sigh. &ldquo;Then,
+      why not live as we have lived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot&mdash;I cannot answer for myself&mdash;I will not run the risk;
+      and therefore I must quit you, knowing, as I do, that there is an
+      invincible obstacle to our union; of what nature I cannot explain; I beg
+      you not to inquire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need not beg it&mdash;I shall not inquire&mdash;I have no curiosity&mdash;none,&rdquo;
+       said she in a passive, dejected tone; &ldquo;that is not what I am thinking of
+      in the least. I know there are invincible obstacles; I wish it to be so.
+      But, if invincible, you who have so much sense, honour, and virtue&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope, my dear cousin, that I have honour and virtue. But there are
+      temptations to which no wise, no good man will expose himself. Innocent
+      creature! you do not know the power of love. I rejoice that you have
+      always thought it impossible&mdash;think so still&mdash;it will save you
+      from&mdash;all I must endure. Think of me but as your cousin, your friend&mdash;give
+      your heart to some happier man. As your friend, your true friend, I
+      conjure you, give your heart to some more fortunate man. Marry, if you can
+      feel love&mdash;marry, and be happy. Honour! virtue! Yes, I have both, and
+      I will not forfeit them. Yes, I will merit your esteem and my own&mdash;by
+      actions, not words; and I give you the strongest proof, by tearing myself
+      from you at this moment. Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent, and my lady calling for you,&rdquo; said
+      her maid. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s your key, ma&rsquo;am, and here&rsquo;s your gloves, my dear ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s woman,
+      coming eagerly with parcels in her hand, as Miss Nugent passed her, and
+      ran down stairs; &ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t know where I laid my lady&rsquo;s <i>numbrella</i>,
+      for my life&mdash;do you, Anne?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed&mdash;but I know here&rsquo;s my own young lady&rsquo;s watch that she has
+      left. Bless me! I never knew her to forget any thing on a journey before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then she is going to be married, as sure as my name&rsquo;s Le Maistre, and to
+      my Lord Colambre; for he has been here this hour, to my certain Bible
+      knowledge. Oh, you&rsquo;ll see she will be Lady Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish she may, with all my heart,&rdquo; said Anne; &ldquo;but I must run down&mdash;they&rsquo;re
+      waiting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; said Mrs. Le Maistre, seizing Anne&rsquo;s arm, and holding her fast;
+      &ldquo;stay&mdash;you may safely&mdash;for they&rsquo;re all kissing and taking leave,
+      and all that, you know; and <i>my</i> lady is talking on about Mr. Soho,
+      and giving a hundred directions about legs of tables, and so forth, I
+      warrant&mdash;she&rsquo;s always an hour after she&rsquo;s ready before she gets in&mdash;and
+      I&rsquo;m looking for the <i>numbrella</i>. So stay, and tell me&mdash;Mrs.
+      Petito wrote over word it was to be Lady Isabel; and then a contradiction
+      came&mdash;it was turned into the youngest of the Killpatricks; and now
+      here he&rsquo;s in Miss Nugent&rsquo;s dressing-room to the last moment. Now, in my
+      opinion, that am not censorious, this does not look so pretty; but,
+      according to my verdict, he is only making a fool of Miss Nugent, like the
+      rest; and his lordship seems too like what you might call a male <i>cocket</i>,
+      or a masculine jilt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more like a masculine jilt than yourself, Mrs. Le Maistre,&rdquo; cried
+      Anne, taking fire. &ldquo;And my young lady is not a lady to be made a fool of,
+      I promise you; nor is my lord likely to make a fool of any woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless us all! that&rsquo;s no great praise for any young nobleman, Miss Anne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Le Maistre! Mrs. Le Maistre! are you above?&rdquo; cried a footman from
+      the bottom of the stairs: &ldquo;my lady&rsquo;s calling for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well! Very well!&rdquo; said sharp Mrs. Le Maistre; &ldquo;Very well! and if she
+      is&mdash;manners, sir!&mdash;Come up for one, can&rsquo;t you, and don&rsquo;t stand
+      bawling at the bottom of the stairs, as if one had no ears to be saved.
+      I&rsquo;m coming as fast as I can&mdash;conveniently can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Le Maistre stood in the door-way, so as to fill it up, and prevent
+      Anne from passing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Anne! Miss Anne! Mrs. Le Maistre!&rdquo; cried another footman; &ldquo;my lady&rsquo;s
+      in the carriage, and Miss Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Nugent!&mdash;is she?&rdquo; cried Mrs. Le Maistre, running down stairs,
+      followed by Anne. &ldquo;Now, for the world in pocket-pieces wouldn&rsquo;t I have
+      missed seeing him hand Miss Nugent in; for by that I could have judged
+      definitively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, I beg pardon!&mdash;I&rsquo;m <i>afeard</i> I&rsquo;m late,&rdquo; said Mrs. Le
+      Maistre, as she passed Lord Colambre, who was standing motionless in the
+      hall. &ldquo;I beg a thousand pardons; but I was hunting, high and low, for my
+      lady&rsquo;s <i>numbrella</i>.&rdquo; Lord Colambre did not hear or heed her: his eyes
+      were fixed, and they never moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Clonbrony was at the open carriage-door, kneeling on the step, and
+      receiving Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s &ldquo;more last words&rdquo; for Mr. Soho. The two
+      waiting-maids stood together on the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at our young lord, how he stands,&rdquo; whispered Mrs. Le Maistre to
+      Anne, &ldquo;the image of despair! And she, the picture of death!&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+      know what to think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I: but don&rsquo;t stare, if you can help it,&rdquo; said Anne. &ldquo;Get in, get in,
+      Mrs. Le Maistre,&rdquo; added she, as Lord Clonbrony now rose from the step, and
+      made way for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, in with you&mdash;in with you, Mrs. Le Maistre,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony.
+      &ldquo;Good bye to you, Anne, and take care of your young mistress at Buxton:
+      let me see her blooming when we meet again; I don&rsquo;t half like her looks,
+      and I never thought Buxton agreed with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Buxton never did any body harm,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony: &ldquo;and as to bloom,
+      I&rsquo;m sure, if Grace has not bloom enough in her cheeks this moment to
+      please you, I don&rsquo;t know what you&rsquo;d have, my dear lord&mdash;Rouge?&mdash;Shut
+      the door, John! Oh, stay!&mdash;Colambre!&mdash;Where upon earth&rsquo;s
+      Colambre?&rdquo; cried her ladyship, stretching from the farthest side of the
+      coach to the window.&mdash;&ldquo;Colambre!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Colambre was forced to appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre, my dear! I forgot to say, that, if any thing detains you longer
+      than Wednesday se&rsquo;nnight, I beg you will not fail to write, or I shall be
+      miserable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will write: at all events, my dearest mother, you shall hear from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I shall be quite happy. Go on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage drove on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do believe Colambre&rsquo;s ill: I never saw a man look so ill in my life&mdash;did
+      you, Grace?&mdash;as he did the minute we drove on. He should take advice.
+      I&rsquo;ve a mind,&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony, laying her hand on the cord, to stop
+      the coachman, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve a mind to turn about&mdash;tell him so&mdash;and ask
+      what is the matter with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better not!&rdquo; said Miss Nugent: &ldquo;he will write to you, and tell you&mdash;if
+      any thing is the matter with him. Better go on now to Buxton!&rdquo; continued
+      she, scarcely able to speak. Lady Clonbrony let go the cord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what is the matter with you, my dear Grace? for you are certainly
+      going to die too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell you&mdash;as soon as I can; but don&rsquo;t ask me now, my dear
+      aunt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Grace, Grace! pull the cord!&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony&mdash;&ldquo;Mr. Salisbury&rsquo;s
+      phaeton!&mdash;Mr. Salisbury, I&rsquo;m happy to see you! We&rsquo;re on our way to
+      Buxton&mdash;as I told you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So am I,&rdquo; said Mr. Salisbury. &ldquo;I hope to be there before your ladyship:
+      will you honour me with any commands?&mdash;of course, I will see that
+      every thing is ready for your reception.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her ladyship had not any commands. Mr. Salisbury drove on rapidly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s ideas had now taken the Salisbury channel. &ldquo;You didn&rsquo;t
+      know that Mr. Salisbury was going to Buxton to meet you, did you, Grace?&rdquo;
+       said Lady Clonbrony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed, I did not!&rdquo; said Miss Nugent; &ldquo;and I am very sorry for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Young ladies, as Mrs. Broadhurst says, &lsquo;never know, or at least never
+      tell, what they are sorry or glad for,&rsquo;&rdquo; replied Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;At all
+      events, Grace, my love, it has brought the fine bloom back to your cheeks;
+      and I own I am satisfied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone! for ever gone from me!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre to himself, as the
+      carriage drove away. &ldquo;Never shall I see her more&mdash;never <i>will</i> I
+      see her more, till she is married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre went to his own room, locked the door, and was relieved in
+      some degree by the sense of privacy; by the feeling that he could now
+      indulge his reflections undisturbed. He had consolation&mdash;he had done
+      what was honourable&mdash;he had transgressed no duty, abandoned no
+      principle&mdash;he had not injured the happiness of any human being&mdash;he
+      had not, to gratify himself, hazarded the peace of the woman he loved&mdash;he
+      had not sought to win her heart. Of her innocent, her warm, susceptible
+      heart, he might, perhaps, have robbed her&mdash;he knew it&mdash;but he
+      had left it untouched, he hoped entire, in her own power, to bless with it
+      hereafter some man worthy of her. In the hope that she might be happy,
+      Lord Colambre felt relief; and in the consciousness that he had made his
+      parents happy, he rejoiced; but, as soon as his mind turned that way for
+      consolation, came the bitter reflection, that his mother must be
+      disappointed in her hopes of his accompanying her home, and of his living
+      with her in Ireland: she would be miserable when she should hear that he
+      was going abroad into the army&mdash;and yet it must be so&mdash;and he
+      must write, and tell her so. &ldquo;The sooner this difficulty is off my mind,
+      the sooner this painful letter is written, the better,&rdquo; thought he. &ldquo;It
+      must be done&mdash;I will do it immediately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He snatched up his pen, and began a letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear mother, Miss Nugent&mdash;&rdquo; He was interrupted by a knock at his
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A gentleman below, my lord.&rdquo; said a servant, &ldquo;who wishes to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot see any gentleman. Did you say I was at home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my lord, I said you was not at home; for I thought you would not
+      choose to be at home, and your own man was not in the way for me to ask&mdash;so
+      I denied you: but the gentleman would not be denied; he said I must come
+      and see if you was at home. So, as he spoke as if he was a gentleman not
+      used to be denied, I thought it might be somebody of consequence, and I
+      showed him into the front drawing-room. I think he said he was sure you&rsquo;d
+      be at home for a friend from Ireland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A friend from Ireland! Why did not you tell me that sooner?&rdquo; said Lord
+      Colambre, rising, and running down stairs. &ldquo;Sir James Brooke, I dare say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No, not Sir James Brooke; but one he was almost as glad to see&mdash;Count
+      O&rsquo;Halloran!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear count! the greater pleasure for being unexpected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came to London but yesterday,&rdquo; said the count; &ldquo;but I could not be here
+      a day, without doing myself the honour of paying my respects to Lord
+      Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do me not only honour, but pleasure, my dear count. People, when they
+      like one another, always find each other out, and contrive to meet, even
+      in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are too polite to ask what brought such a superannuated militaire as
+      I am,&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;from his retirement into this gay world again. A
+      relation of mine, who is one of the ministry, knew that I had some maps,
+      and plans, and charts, which might be serviceable in an expedition they
+      are planning. I might have trusted my charts across the channel, without
+      coming myself to convoy them, you will say. But my relation fancied&mdash;young
+      relations, you know, if they are good for any thing, are apt to overvalue
+      the heads of old relations&mdash;fancied that mine was worth bringing all
+      the way from Halloran Castle to London, to consult with <i>tête-à-tête</i>.
+      So, you know, when this was signified to me by a letter from the secretary
+      in office, <i>private, most confidential</i>, what could I do, but do
+      myself the honour to obey? For though honour&rsquo;s voice cannot provoke the
+      silent dust, yet &lsquo;flattery soothes the dull cold ear of <i>age</i>.&rsquo;&mdash;But
+      enough and too much of myself,&rdquo; said the count: &ldquo;tell me, my dear lord,
+      something of yourself. I do not think England seems to agree with you so
+      well as Ireland; for, excuse me, in point of health, you don&rsquo;t look like
+      the same man I saw some weeks ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mind has been ill at ease of late,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, there&rsquo;s the thing! The body pays for the mind&mdash;but those who
+      have feeling minds, pain and pleasure altogether computed, have the
+      advantage; or at least they think so; for they would not change with those
+      who have them not, were they to gain by the bargain the most robust body
+      that the most selfish coxcomb, or the heaviest dunce extant, ever boasted.
+      For instance, would you now, my lord, at this moment, change altogether
+      with Major Benson, or Captain Williamson, or even with our friend, &lsquo;Eh,
+      really now, &lsquo;pon honour&rsquo;&mdash;would you?&mdash;I&rsquo;m glad to see you
+      smile.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you for making me smile, for I assure you I want it. I wish&mdash;if
+      you would not think me encroaching upon your politeness in honouring me
+      with this visit&mdash;You see,&rdquo; continued he, opening the doors of the
+      back drawing-room, and pointing to large packages, &ldquo;you see we are all
+      preparing for a march: my mother has left town half an hour ago&mdash;my
+      father engaged to dine abroad&mdash;only I at home&mdash;and, in this
+      state of confusion, could I even venture to ask Count O&rsquo;Halloran to stay
+      and dine with me, without being able to offer him Irish ortolans or Irish
+      plums&mdash;in short, will you let me rob you of two or three hours of
+      your time? I am anxious to have your opinion on a subject of some
+      importance to me, and on one where you are peculiarly qualified to judge
+      and decide for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear lord, frankly, I have nothing half so good or so agreeable to do
+      with my time; command my hours. I have already told you how much it
+      flatters me to be consulted by the most helpless clerk in office; how much
+      more about the private concerns of an enlightened young-friend, will Lord
+      Colambre permit me to say? I hope so; for, though the length of our
+      acquaintance might not justify the word, yet regard and intimacy are not
+      always in proportion to the time people have known each other, but to
+      their mutual perception of certain attaching qualities, a certain
+      similarity and suitableness of character.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The good count, seeing that Lord Colambre was in much distress of mind,
+      did all he could to soothe him by kindness: far from making any difficulty
+      about giving up a few hours of his time, he seemed to have no other object
+      in London, and no purpose in life, but to attend to our hero. To put him
+      at ease, and to give him time to recover and arrange his thoughts, the
+      count talked of indifferent subjects.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I heard you mention the name of Sir James Brooke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I expected to have seen him when the servant first mentioned a
+      friend from Ireland; because Sir James had told me that, as soon as he
+      could get leave of absence, he would come to England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is come; is now at his estate in Huntingdonshire; doing, what do you
+      think? I will give you a leading hint; recollect the seal which the little
+      De Cressy put into your hands the day you dined at Oranmore. Faithful to
+      his motto, &lsquo;Deeds, not words,&rsquo; he is this instant, I believe, at deeds,
+      title deeds; making out marriage settlements, getting ready to put his
+      seal to the happy articles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Happy man! I give him joy,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;happy man! going to be
+      married to such a woman&mdash;daughter of such a mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Daughter of such a mother! That is indeed a great addition and a great
+      security to his happiness,&rdquo; said the count. &ldquo;Such a family to marry into;
+      good from generation to generation; illustrious by character as well as by
+      genealogy; &lsquo;all the sons brave, and all the daughters chaste.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre with difficulty repressed his feelings. &ldquo;If I could choose,&rdquo;
+       said the count, &ldquo;I would rather that a woman I loved were of such a family
+      than that she had for her dower the mines of Peru.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So would I,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, and with such energy; so few young
+      men of the present day look to what I call good connexion. In marrying, a
+      man does not, to be sure, marry his wife&rsquo;s mother; and yet a prudent man,
+      when he begins to think of the daughter, would look sharp at the mother;
+      ay, and back to the grandmother too, and along the whole female line of
+      ancestry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True&mdash;most true&mdash;he ought&mdash;he must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I have a notion,&rdquo; said the count, smiling, &ldquo;your lordship&rsquo;s practice
+      has been conformable to your theory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I!&mdash;mine!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, starting, and looking at the count
+      with surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; said the count; &ldquo;I did not intend to surprise your
+      confidence. But you forget that I was present, and saw the impression
+      which was made on your mind by a mother&rsquo;s want of a proper sense of
+      delicacy and propriety&mdash;Lady Dashfort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Lady Dashfort! she was quite out of my head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lady Isabel?&mdash;I hope she is quite out of your heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She never was in it,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Only laid siege to it,&rdquo; said
+      the count. &ldquo;Well, I am glad your heart did not surrender at discretion, or
+      rather without discretion. Then I may tell you, without fear or preface,
+      that the Lady Isabel, who talks of &lsquo;refinement, delicacy, sense,&rsquo; is going
+      to stoop at once, and marry&mdash;Heathcock.&rdquo; Lord Colambre was not
+      surprised, but concerned and disgusted, as he always felt, even when he
+      did not care for the individual, from hearing any thing which tended to
+      lower the female sex in public estimation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to myself,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I cannot say I have had an escape, for I don&rsquo;t
+      think I ever was in much danger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is difficult to measure danger when it is over&mdash;past danger, like
+      past pain, is soon forgotten,&rdquo; said the old general. &ldquo;At all events, I
+      rejoice in your present safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But is she really going to be married to Heathcock?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Positively: they all came over in the same packet with me, and they are
+      all in town now, buying jewels, and equipages, and horses. Heathcock, you
+      know, is as good as another man for all those purposes: his father is
+      dead, and has left him a large estate. <i>Que voulez-vous?</i> as the
+      French valet said to me on the occasion, <i>c&rsquo;est que monsieur est un
+      homme de bien: il a des biens, à ce qu&rsquo;on dit.</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre could not help smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How they got Heathcock to fall in love is what puzzles me,&rdquo; said his
+      lordship. &ldquo;I should as soon have thought of an oyster&rsquo;s falling in love as
+      that being.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I own I should have sooner thought,&rdquo; replied the count, &ldquo;of his falling
+      in love with an oyster; and so would you, if you had seen him, as I did,
+      devouring oysters on shipboard.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Say, can the lovely <i>heroine</i> hope to vie
+   With a fat turtle or a ven&rsquo;son pie?&rsquo;
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that is not our affair; let the Lady Isabel look to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dinner was announced; and no farther conversation of any consequence
+      passed between the count and Lord Colambre till the cloth was removed and
+      the servants had withdrawn. Then our hero opened on the subject which was
+      heavy at his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear count&mdash;I have a mind to serve a campaign or two, if I could
+      get a commission in a regiment going to Spain; but I understand so many
+      are eager to go at this moment, that it is very difficult to get a
+      commission in such a regiment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is difficult,&rdquo; said the count. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; added he, after thinking for a
+      moment, &ldquo;I have it! I can get the thing done for you, and directly. Major
+      Benson, who is in danger of being broke, in consequence of that affair,
+      you know, about his mistress, wants to sell out; and that regiment is to
+      be ordered immediately to Spain: I will have the thing done for you, if
+      you request it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;First, give me your advice, Count O&rsquo;Halloran: you are well acquainted
+      with the military profession, with military life. Would you advise me&mdash;I
+      won&rsquo;t speak of myself, because we judge better by general views than by
+      particular cases&mdash;would you advise a young man at present to go into
+      the army?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count was silent for a few minutes, and then replied: &ldquo;Since you
+      seriously ask my opinion, my lord, I must lay aside my own prepossessions,
+      and endeavour to speak with impartiality. To go into the army in these
+      days, my lord, is, in my sober opinion, the most absurd and base, or the
+      wisest and noblest thing a young man can do. To enter into the army, with
+      the hope of escaping from the application necessary to acquire knowledge,
+      letters, and science&mdash;I run no risk, my lord, in saying this to you&mdash;to
+      go into the army, with the hope of escaping from knowledge, letters,
+      science, and morality; to wear a red coat and an epaulette; to be called
+      captain; to figure at a ball; to lounge away time in country sports, at
+      country quarters, was never, even in times of peace, creditable; but it is
+      now absurd and base. Submitting to a certain portion of ennui and
+      contempt, this mode of life for an officer was formerly practicable&mdash;but
+      now cannot be submitted to without utter, irremediable disgrace. Officers
+      are now, in general, men of education and information; want of knowledge,
+      sense, manners, must consequently be immediately detected, ridiculed, and
+      despised, in a military man. Of this we have not long since seen
+      lamentable examples in the raw officers who have lately disgraced
+      themselves in my neighbourhood in Ireland&mdash;that Major Benson and
+      Captain Williamson. But I will not advert to such insignificant
+      individuals, such are rare exceptions&mdash;I leave them out of the
+      question&mdash;I reason on general principles. The life of an officer is
+      not now a life of parade, of coxcombical or of profligate idleness&mdash;but
+      of active service, of continual hardship and danger. All the descriptions
+      which we see in ancient history of a soldier&rsquo;s life, descriptions which in
+      times of peace appeared like romance, are now realized; military exploits
+      fill every day&rsquo;s newspapers, every day&rsquo;s conversation. A martial spirit is
+      now essential to the liberty and the existence of our own country. In the
+      present state of things, the military must be the most honourable
+      profession, because the most useful. Every movement of an army is followed
+      wherever it goes, by the public hopes and fears. Every officer must now
+      feel, besides this sense of collective importance, a belief that his only
+      dependence must be on his own merit&mdash;and thus his ambition, his
+      enthusiasm, are raised; and, when once this noble ardour is kindled in the
+      breast, it excites to exertion, and supports under endurance. But I forget
+      myself,&rdquo; said the count, checking his enthusiasm; &ldquo;I promised to speak
+      soberly. If I have said too much, your own good sense, my lord, will
+      correct me, and your good nature will forgive the prolixity of an old man,
+      touched upon his favourite subject&mdash;the passion of his youth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, of course, assured the count that he was not tired. Indeed,
+      the enthusiasm with which this old officer spoke of his profession, and
+      the high point of view in which he placed it, increased our hero&rsquo;s desire
+      to serve a campaign abroad. Good sense, politeness, and experience of the
+      world preserved Count O&rsquo;Halloran from that foible with which old officers
+      are commonly reproached, of talking continually of their own military
+      exploits. Though retired from the world, he had contrived, by reading the
+      best books, and corresponding with persons of good information, to keep up
+      with the current of modern affairs; and he seldom spoke of those in which
+      he had been formerly engaged. He rather too studiously avoided speaking of
+      himself; and this fear of egotism diminished the peculiar interest he
+      might have inspired: it disappointed curiosity, and deprived those with
+      whom he conversed of many entertaining and instructive anecdotes. However,
+      he sometimes made exceptions to his general rule in favour of persons who
+      peculiarly pleased him, and Lord Colambre was of this number.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He this evening, for the first time, spoke to his lordship of the years he
+      had spent in the Austrian service; told him anecdotes of the emperor;
+      spoke of many distinguished public characters whom he had known abroad; of
+      those officers who had been his friends and companions. Among others he
+      mentioned, with particular regard, a young English officer who had been at
+      the same time with him in the Austrian service, a gentleman of the name of
+      Reynolds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The name struck Lord Colambre: it was the name of the officer who had been
+      the cause of the disgrace of Miss St. Omar&mdash;of&mdash;Miss Nugent&rsquo;s
+      mother. &ldquo;But there are so many Reynoldses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He eagerly asked the age&mdash;the character of this officer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was a gallant youth,&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;but too adventurous&mdash;too
+      rash. He fell, after distinguishing himself in a glorious manner, in his
+      twentieth year&mdash;died in my arms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Married or unmarried?&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Married&mdash;he had been privately married, less than a year before his
+      death, to a very young English lady, who had been educated at a convent in
+      Vienna. He was heir to a considerable property, I believe, and the young
+      lady had little fortune; and the affair was kept secret, from the fear of
+      offending his friends, or for some other reason&mdash;I do not recollect
+      the particulars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he acknowledge his marriage?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never, till he was dying&mdash;then he confided his secret to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you recollect the name of the young lady he married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;a Miss St. Omar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;St. Omar!&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre, with an expression of lively joy in
+      his countenance. &ldquo;But are you certain, my dear count, that she was really
+      married, legally married, to Mr. Reynolds? Her marriage has been denied by
+      all his friends and relations&mdash;hers have never been able to establish
+      it&mdash;her daughter is&mdash;My dear count, were you present at the
+      marriage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;I was not present at the marriage; I never saw the
+      lady; nor do I know any thing of the affair, except that Mr. Reynolds,
+      when he was dying, assured me that he was privately married to a Miss St.
+      Omar, who was then boarding at a convent in Vienna. The young man
+      expressed great regret at leaving her totally unprovided for; but said
+      that he trusted his father would acknowledge her, and that her friends
+      would be reconciled to her. He was not of age, he said, to make a will;
+      but I think he told me that his child, who at that time was not born,
+      would, even if it should be a girl, inherit a considerable property. With
+      this I cannot, however, charge my memory positively; but he put a packet
+      into my hands which, he told me, contained a certificate of his marriage,
+      and, I think he said, a letter to his father: this he requested that I
+      would transmit to England by some safe hand. Immediately after his death,
+      I went to the English ambassador, who was then leaving Vienna, and
+      delivered the packet into his hands: he promised to have it safely
+      delivered. I was obliged to go the next day, with the troops, to a distant
+      part of the country. When I returned, I inquired at the convent what had
+      become of Miss St. Omar&mdash;I should say Mrs. Reynolds; and I was told
+      that she had removed from the convent to private lodgings in the town,
+      some time previous to the birth of her child. The abbess seemed much
+      scandalized by the whole transaction; and I remember I relieved her mind
+      by assuring her that there had been a regular marriage. For poor young
+      Reynolds&rsquo; sake, I made farther inquiries about the widow, intending, of
+      course, to act as a friend, if she were in any difficulty or distress. But
+      I found, on inquiry at her lodgings, that her brother had come from
+      England for her, and had carried her and her infant away. The active
+      scenes,&rdquo; continued the count, &ldquo;in which I was immediately afterwards
+      engaged, drove the whole affair from my mind. Now that your questions have
+      recalled them, I feel certain of the facts I have mentioned; and I am
+      ready to establish them by my testimony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre thanked him with an eagerness that showed how much he was
+      interested in the event. It was clear, he said, that either the packet
+      left with the ambassador had not been delivered, or that the father of Mr.
+      Reynolds had suppressed the certificate of the marriage, as it had never
+      been acknowledged by him or by any of the family. Lord Colambre now
+      frankly told the count why he was so anxious about this affair; and Count
+      O&rsquo;Halloran, with all the warmth of youth, and with all the ardent
+      generosity characteristic of his country, entered into his feelings,
+      declaring that he would never rest till he had established the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unfortunately,&rdquo; said the count, &ldquo;the ambassador who took the packet in
+      charge is dead. I am afraid we shall have difficulty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he must have had some secretary,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;who was his
+      secretary?&mdash;we can apply to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His secretary is now chargé d&rsquo;affaires in Vienna&mdash;we cannot get at
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Into whose hands have that ambassador&rsquo;s papers fallen&mdash;who is his
+      executor?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His executor!&mdash;now you have it,&rdquo; cried the count. &ldquo;His executor is
+      the very man who will do your business&mdash;your friend Sir James Brooke
+      is the executor. All papers, of course, are in his hands; or he can have
+      access to any that are in the hands of the family. The family seat is
+      within a few miles of Sir James Brooke&rsquo;s, in Huntingdonshire, where, as I
+      told you before, he now is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go to him immediately&mdash;set out in the mail this night. Just in
+      time!&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, pulling out his watch with one hand, and
+      ringing the bell with the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Run and take a place for me in the mail for Huntingdon. Go directly,&rdquo;
+       said Lord Colambre to the servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And take two places, if you please, sir,&rdquo; said the count. &ldquo;My lord, I
+      will accompany you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But this Lord Colambre would not permit, as it would be unnecessary to
+      fatigue the good old general; and a letter from him to Sir James Brooke
+      would do all that the count could effect by his presence: the search for
+      the papers would be made by Sir James, and if the packet could be
+      recovered, or if any memorandum or mode of ascertaining that it had
+      actually been delivered to old Reynolds could be discovered, Lord Colambre
+      said he would then call upon the count for his assistance, and trouble him
+      to identify the packet; or to go with him to Mr. Reynolds to make farther
+      inquiries; and to certify, at all events, the young man&rsquo;s dying
+      acknowledgment of his marriage and of his child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The place in the mail, just in time, was taken. Lord Colambre sent a
+      servant in search of his father, with a note, explaining the necessity of
+      his sudden departure. All the business which remained to be done in town
+      he knew Lord Clonbrony could accomplish without his assistance. Then he
+      wrote a few lines to his mother, on the very sheet of paper on which, a
+      few hours before, he had sorrowfully and slowly begun,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>My dear mother&mdash;Miss Nugent.</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He now joyfully and rapidly went on,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear mother and Miss Nugent,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope to be with you on Wednesday se&rsquo;nnight; but if unforeseen
+      circumstances should delay me, I will certainly write to you again. Dear
+      mother, believe me,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your obliged and grateful son,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Colambre.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count, in the mean time, wrote a letter for him to Sir James Brooke,
+      describing the packet which he had given to the ambassador, and relating
+      all the circumstances that could lead to its recovery. Lord Colambre,
+      almost before the wax was hard, seized the letter; the count seeming
+      almost as eager to hurry him off as he was to set out. He thanked the
+      count with few words, but with strong feeling. Joy and love returned in
+      full tide upon our hero&rsquo;s soul; all the military ideas, which but an hour
+      before filled his imagination, were put to flight: Spain vanished, and
+      green Ireland reappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just as they shook hands at parting, the good old general, with a smile,
+      said to him, &ldquo;I believe I had better not stir in the matter of Benson&rsquo;s
+      commission till I hear more from you. My harangue, in favour of the
+      military profession, will, I fancy, prove, like most other harangues, a
+      waste of words.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In what words of polite circumlocution, or of cautious diplomacy, shall we
+      say, or hint, that the deceased ambassador&rsquo;s papers were found in shameful
+      disorder. His excellency&rsquo;s executor, Sir James Brooke, however, was
+      indefatigable in his researches. He and Lord Colambre spent two whole days
+      in looking over portfolios of letters, and memorials, and manifestoes, and
+      bundles of paper of the most heterogeneous sorts; some of them without any
+      docket or direction to lead to a knowledge of their contents; others
+      written upon in such a manner as to give an erroneous notion of their
+      nature; so that it was necessary to untie every paper separately. At last,
+      when they had opened, as they thought, every paper, and, wearied and in
+      despair, were just on the point of giving up the search, Lord Colambre
+      spied a bundle of old newspapers at the bottom of a trunk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are only old Vienna Gazettes; I looked at them,&rdquo; said Sir James.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre, upon this assurance, was going to throw them into the trunk
+      again; but observing that the bundle had not been untied, he opened it,
+      and withinside of the newspapers he found a rough copy of the ambassador&rsquo;s
+      journal, and with it the packet directed to Ralph Reynolds, sen., Esq.,
+      Old Court, Suffolk, per favour of his excellency Earl *****&mdash;a note
+      on the cover, signed O&rsquo;Halloran, stating when received by him, and, the
+      date of the day when delivered to the ambassador&mdash;seals unbroken. Our
+      hero was in such a transport of joy at the sight of this packet, and his
+      friend Sir James Brooke so full of his congratulations, that they forgot
+      to curse the ambassador&rsquo;s carelessness, which had been the cause of so
+      much evil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next thing to be done was to deliver the packet to Ralph Reynolds, Old
+      Court, Suffolk. But when Lord Colambre arrived at Old Court, Suffolk, he
+      found all the gates locked, and no admittance to be had. At last an old
+      woman came out of the porter&rsquo;s lodge, who said Mr. Reynolds was not there,
+      and she could not say where he was. After our hero had opened her heart by
+      the present of half a guinea, she explained, that she &ldquo;could not <i>justly</i>
+      say where he was, because that he never let any body of his own people
+      know where he was any day; he had several different houses and places in
+      different parts, and far off counties, and other shires, as she heard, and
+      by times he was at one, and by times at another. The names of two of the
+      places, Toddrington and Little Wrestham, she knew; but there were others
+      to which she could give no direction. He had houses in odd parts of
+      London, too, that he let; and sometimes, when the lodgers&rsquo; time was out,
+      he would go, and be never heard of for a month, may be, in one of them. In
+      short, there was no telling or saying where he was or would be one day of
+      the week, by where he had been the last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Lord Colambre expressed some surprise that an old gentleman, as he
+      conceived Mr. Ralph Reynolds to be, should change places so frequently,
+      the old woman answered, &ldquo;that though her master was a deal on the wrong
+      side of seventy, and though, to look at him, you&rsquo;d think he was glued to
+      his chair, and would fall to pieces if he should stir out of it, yet he
+      was as alert, and thought no more of going about, than if he was as young
+      as the gentleman who was now speaking to her. It was old Mr. Reynolds&rsquo;
+      delight to come down and surprise his people at his different places, and
+      see that they were keeping all tight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of a man is he?&mdash;Is he a miser?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is a miser, and he is not a miser,&rdquo; said the woman. &ldquo;Now he&rsquo;d think as
+      much of the waste of a penny as another man would of a hundred pounds, and
+      yet he would give a hundred pounds easier than another would give a penny,
+      when he&rsquo;s in the humour. But his humour is very odd, and there&rsquo;s no
+      knowing where to have him; he&rsquo;s cross-grained, and more <i>positiver</i>-like
+      than a mule; and his deafness made him worse in this, because he never
+      heard what nobody said, but would say on his own way&mdash;he was very <i>odd</i>,
+      but not <i>cracked</i>&mdash;no, he was as clear-headed, when he took a
+      thing the right way, as any man could be, and as clever, and could talk as
+      well as any member of parliament&mdash;and good-natured, and kind-hearted,
+      where he would take a fancy&mdash;but then, may be, it would be to a dog
+      (he was remarkably fond of dogs), or a cat, or a rat even, that he would
+      take a fancy, and think more of &lsquo;em than he would of a Christian. But,
+      poor gentleman, there&rsquo;s great allowance,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;to be made for him,
+      that lost his son and heir&mdash;that would have been heir to all, and a
+      fine youth that he doted upon. But,&rdquo; continued the old woman, in whose
+      mind the transitions from great to little, from serious to trivial, were
+      ludicrously abrupt, &ldquo;that was no reason why the old gentleman should scold
+      me last time he was here, as he did, for as long as ever he could stand
+      over me, only because I killed a mouse who was eating my cheese; and,
+      before night, he beat a boy for stealing a piece of that same cheese; and
+      he would never, when down here, let me set a mouse-trap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my good woman,&rdquo; interrupted Lord Colambre, who was little
+      interested in this affair of the mouse-trap, and nowise curious to learn
+      more of Mr. Reynolds&rsquo; domestic economy, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll not trouble you any farther,
+      if you can be so good as to tell me the road to Toddrington, or to Little
+      Wickham, I think you call it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little Wickham!&rdquo; repeated the woman, laughing&mdash;&ldquo;Bless you, sir,
+      where do you come from? It&rsquo;s Little Wrestham: sure every body knows, near
+      Lantry; and keep the <i>pike</i> till you come to the turn at Rotherford,
+      and then you strike off into the by-road to the left, and then turn again
+      at the ford to the right. But, if you are going to Toddrington, you don&rsquo;t
+      go the road to market, which is at the first turn to the left, and the
+      cross country road, where there&rsquo;s no quarter, and Toddrington lies&mdash;but
+      for Wrestham, you take the road to market.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was some time before our hero could persuade the old woman to stick to
+      Little Wrestham, or to Toddrington, and not to mix the directions for the
+      different roads together&mdash;he took patience, for his impatience only
+      confused his director the more. In process of time he made out, and wrote
+      down, the various turns that he was to follow, to reach Little Wrestham;
+      but no human power could get her from Little Wrestham to Toddrington,
+      though she knew the road perfectly well; but she had, for the seventeen
+      last years, been used to go &ldquo;the other road,&rdquo; and all the carriers went
+      that way, and passed the door, and that was all she could certify.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Little Wrestham, after turning to the left and right as often as his
+      directory required, our hero happily reached: but, unhappily, he found no
+      Mr. Reynolds there; only a steward, who gave nearly the same account of
+      his master as had been given by the old woman, and could not guess even
+      where the gentleman might now be. Toddrington was as likely as any place&mdash;but
+      he could not say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perseverance against fortune.&rdquo; To Toddrington our hero proceeded, through
+      cross country roads&mdash;such roads!&mdash;very different from the Irish
+      roads. Waggon ruts, into which the carriage wheels sunk nearly to the nave&mdash;and,
+      from time to time, &ldquo;sloughs of despond,&rdquo; through which it seemed
+      impossible to drag, walk, wade, or swim, and all the time with a sulky
+      postilion. &ldquo;Oh, how unlike my Larry!&rdquo; thought Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length, in a very narrow lane, going up a hill, said to be two miles of
+      ascent, they overtook a heavy laden waggon, and they were obliged to go
+      step by step behind it, whilst, enjoying the gentleman&rsquo;s impatience much,
+      and the postilion&rsquo;s sulkiness more, the waggoner, in his embroidered
+      frock, walked in state, with his long sceptre in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The postilion muttered &ldquo;curses not loud, but deep.&rdquo; Deep or loud, no
+      purpose would they have answered; the waggoner&rsquo;s temper was proof against
+      curse in or out of the English language; and from their snail&rsquo;s pace
+      neither <i>Dickens</i>, nor devil, nor any postilion in England could make
+      him put his horses. Lord Colambre jumped out of the chaise, and, walking
+      beside him, began to talk to him; and spoke of his horses, their bells,
+      their trappings; the beauty and strength of the thill-horse&mdash;the
+      value of the whole team, which his lordship happening to guess right
+      within ten pounds, and showing, moreover, some skill about road-making and
+      waggon-wheels, and being fortunately of the waggoner&rsquo;s own opinion in the
+      great question about conical and cylindrical rims, he was pleased with the
+      young chap of a gentleman; and, in spite of the chuffiness of his
+      appearance and churlishness of his speech, this waggoner&rsquo;s bosom being
+      &ldquo;made of penetrable stuff,&rdquo; he determined to let the gentleman pass.
+      Accordingly, when half way up the hill, and the head of the fore-horse
+      came near an open gate, the waggoner, without saying one word or turning
+      his head, touched the horse with his long whip&mdash;and the horse turned
+      in at the gate, and then came, &ldquo;Dobbin!&mdash;Jeho!&rdquo; and strange calls and
+      sounds, which all the other horses of the team obeyed; and the waggon
+      turned into the farm-yard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, master! while I turn, you may pass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The covering of the waggon caught in the hedge as the waggon turned in;
+      and as the sacking was drawn back, some of the packages were disturbed&mdash;a
+      cheese was just rolling off on the side next Lord Colambre; he stopped it
+      from falling: the direction caught his quick eye&mdash;&ldquo;To Ralph Reynolds,
+      Esq.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;<i>Toddrington</i>&rdquo; scratched out; &ldquo;Red Lion Square, London,&rdquo;
+       written in another hand below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I have found him! And surely I know that hand!&rdquo; said Lord Colambre to
+      himself, looking more closely at the direction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The original direction was certainly in a hand-writing well known to him&mdash;it
+      was Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That there cheese, that you&rsquo;re looking at so cur&rsquo;ously,&rdquo; said the
+      waggoner, &ldquo;has been a great traveller; for it came all the way down from
+      Lon&rsquo;on, and now its going all the way up again back, on account of not
+      finding the gentleman at home; and the man that booked it told me as how
+      it came from foreign parts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre took down the direction, tossed the honest waggoner a
+      guinea, wished him good night, passed, and went on. As soon as he could,
+      he turned into the London road&mdash;at the first town, got a place in the
+      mail&mdash;reached London&mdash;saw his father&mdash;went directly to his
+      friend, Count O&rsquo;Halloran, who was delighted when he beheld the packet.
+      Lord Colambre was extremely eager to go immediately to old Reynolds,
+      fatigued as he was; for he had travelled night and day, and had scarcely
+      allowed himself, mind or body, one moment&rsquo;s repose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heroes must sleep, and lovers too; or they soon will cease to be heroes
+      or lovers!&rdquo; said the count. &ldquo;Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! this night; and
+      to-morrow morning we&rsquo;ll finish the adventures in Red Lion Square, or I
+      will accompany you when and where you will; if necessary, to earth&rsquo;s
+      remotest bounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning Lord Colambre went to breakfast with the count. The
+      count, who was not in love, was not up, for our hero was half an hour
+      earlier than the time appointed. The old servant Ulick, who had attended
+      his master to England, was very glad to see Lord Colambre again, and,
+      showing him into the breakfast parlour, could not help saying, in defence
+      of his master&rsquo;s punctuality, &ldquo;Your clocks, I suppose, my lord, are half an
+      hour faster than ours: my master will be ready to the moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The count soon appeared&mdash;breakfast was soon over, and the carriage at
+      the door; for the count sympathized in his young friend&rsquo;s impatience. As
+      they were setting out, the count&rsquo;s large Irish dog pushed out of the
+      house-door to follow them; and his master would have forbidden him, but
+      Lord Colambre begged that he might be permitted to accompany them; for his
+      lordship recollected the old woman&rsquo;s having mentioned that Mr. Reynolds
+      was fond of dogs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They arrived in Red Lion Square, found the house of Mr. Reynolds, and,
+      contrary to the count&rsquo;s prognostics, found the old gentleman up, and they
+      saw him in his red night-cap at his parlour window. After some minutes&rsquo;
+      running backwards and forwards of a boy in the passage, and two or three
+      peeps taken over the blinds by the old gentleman, they were admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy could not master their names; so they were obliged reciprocally to
+      announce themselves&mdash;&ldquo;Count O&rsquo;Halloran and Lord Colambre.&rdquo; The names
+      seemed to make no impression on the old gentleman; but he deliberately
+      looked at the count and his lordship, as if studying <i>what</i> rather
+      than <i>who</i> they were. In spite of the red night-cap, and a flowered
+      dressing-gown, Mr. Reynolds looked like a gentleman, an odd gentleman&mdash;but
+      still a gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Count O&rsquo;Halloran came into the room, and as his large dog attempted to
+      follow, the count&rsquo;s look expressed&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, shall I let him in, or shut the door?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, let him in, by all means, sir, if you please! I am fond of dogs; and
+      a finer one I never saw: pray, gentlemen, be seated,&rdquo; said he&mdash;a
+      portion of the complacency, inspired by the sight of the dog, diffusing
+      itself over his manner towards the master of so fine an animal, and even
+      extending to the master&rsquo;s companion, though in an inferior degree. Whilst
+      Mr. Reynolds stroked the dog, the count told him that &ldquo;the dog was of a
+      curious breed, now almost extinct&mdash;the Irish greyhound; only one
+      nobleman in Ireland, it is said, has a few of the species remaining in his
+      possession&mdash;Now, lie down, Hannibal,&rdquo; said the count. &ldquo;Mr. Reynolds,
+      we have taken the liberty, though strangers, of waiting upon you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rdquo; interrupted Mr. Reynolds; &ldquo;but did I understand
+      you rightly, that a few of the same species are still to be had from one
+      nobleman in Ireland? Pray, what is his name?&rdquo; said he, taking out his
+      pencil.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The count wrote the name for him, but observed, that &ldquo;he had asserted only
+      that a few of these dogs remained in the possession of that nobleman; he
+      could not answer for it that they were <i>to be had</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I have ways and means,&rdquo; said old Reynolds; and, rapping his
+      snuff-box, and talking, as it was his custom, loud to himself, &ldquo;Lady
+      Dashfort knows all those Irish lords: she shall get one for me&mdash;ay!
+      ay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran replied, as if the words had been addressed to him, &ldquo;Lady
+      Dashfort is in England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, sir; she is in London,&rdquo; said Mr. Reynolds, hastily. &ldquo;What do
+      you know of her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, sir, that she is not likely to return to Ireland, and that I am;
+      and so is my young friend here: and if the thing can be accomplished, we
+      will get it done for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre joined in this promise, and added, that, &ldquo;if the dog could
+      be obtained, he would undertake to have him safely sent over to England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir&mdash;gentlemen! I&rsquo;m much obliged; that is, when you have done the
+      thing I shall be much obliged. But, may be, you are only making me civil
+      speeches!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of that, sir,&rdquo; said the count, smiling with much temper, &ldquo;your own
+      sagacity and knowledge of the world must enable you to judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my own part, I can only say,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, &ldquo;that I am not in
+      the habit of being reproached with saying one thing and meaning another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hot! I see,&rdquo; said old Reynolds, nodding as he looked at Lord Colambre:
+      &ldquo;Cool!&rdquo; added he, nodding at the count. &ldquo;But a time for every thing; I was
+      hot once: both answers good for their ages.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This speech Lord Colambre and the count tacitly agreed to consider as
+      another <i>apart</i>, which they were not to hear, or seem to hear. The
+      count began again on the business of their visit, as he saw that Lord
+      Colambre was boiling with impatience, and feared that he should <i>boil
+      over</i>, and spoil all. The count commenced with, &ldquo;Mr. Reynolds, your
+      name sounds to me like the name of a friend; for I had once a friend of
+      that name: I once had the pleasure (and a very great pleasure it was to
+      me) to be intimately acquainted abroad, on the continent, with a very
+      amiable and gallant youth&mdash;your son!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care, sir,&rdquo; said the old man, starting up from his chair, and
+      instantly sinking down again, &ldquo;take care! Don&rsquo;t mention him to me&mdash;unless
+      you would strike me dead on the spot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The convulsed motions of his fingers and face worked for some moments;
+      whilst the count and Lord Colambre, much shocked and alarmed, stood in
+      silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The convulsed motions ceased; and the old man unbuttoned his waistcoat, as
+      if to relieve some sense of oppression; uncovered his gray hairs; and,
+      after leaning back to rest himself, with his eyes fixed, and in reverie
+      for a few moments, he sat upright again in his chair, and exclaimed, as he
+      looked round, &ldquo;Son!&mdash;Did not somebody say that word? Who is so cruel
+      to say that word before me? Nobody has ever spoken of him to me&mdash;but
+      once, since his death! Do you know, sir,&rdquo; said he, fixing his eyes on
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran, and laying his cold hand on him, &ldquo;do you know where he
+      was buried, I ask you, sir? do you remember how he died?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too well! too well!&rdquo; cried the count, so much affected as to be scarcely
+      able to pronounce the words; &ldquo;he died in my arms: I buried him myself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; cried Mr. Reynolds. &ldquo;Why do you say so, sir?&rdquo; said he,
+      studying the count&rsquo;s face with a sort of bewildered earnestness.
+      &ldquo;Impossible! His body was sent over to me in a lead coffin; and I saw it&mdash;and
+      I was asked&mdash;and I answered, &lsquo;In the family vault.&rsquo; But the shock is
+      over,&rdquo; said he: &ldquo;and, gentlemen, if the business of your visit relates to
+      that subject, I trust I am now sufficiently composed to attend to you.
+      Indeed, I ought to be prepared; for I had reason, for years, to expect the
+      stroke; and yet, when it came, it seemed sudden!&mdash;it stunned me&mdash;put
+      an end to all my worldly prospects&mdash;left me childless, without a
+      single descendant, or relation near enough to be dear to me! I am an
+      insulated being!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, you are not an insulated being,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;You have a
+      near relation, who will, who must, be dear to you; who will make you
+      amends for all you have lost, all you have suffered&mdash;who will bring
+      peace and joy to your heart: you have a grand-daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir; I have no grand-daughter,&rdquo; said old Reynolds, his face and whole
+      form becoming rigid with the expression of obstinacy. &ldquo;Rather have no
+      descendant than be forced to acknowledge an illegitimate child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My lord, I entreat as a friend&mdash;I command you to be patient,&rdquo; said
+      the count, who saw Lord Colambre&rsquo;s indignation suddenly rise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, then, this is the purpose of your visit,&rdquo; continued old Reynolds:
+      &ldquo;and you come from my enemies, from the St. Omars, and you are in a league
+      with them,&rdquo; continued old Reynolds: &ldquo;and all this time it is of my eldest
+      son you have been talking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; replied the count; &ldquo;of Captain Reynolds, who fell in battle,
+      in the Austrian service, about nineteen years ago&mdash;a more gallant and
+      amiable youth never lived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pleasure revived through the dull look of obstinacy in the father&rsquo;s eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was, as you say, sir, a gallant, an amiable youth, once&mdash;and he
+      was my pride, and I loved him, too, once&mdash;but did not you know I had
+      another?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir, we did not&mdash;we are, you may perceive, totally ignorant of
+      your family and of your affairs&mdash;we have no connexion whatever or
+      knowledge of any of the St. Omars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I detest the sound of the name,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, good! good!&mdash;Well! well! I beg your pardon, gentlemen, a
+      thousand times&mdash;I am a hasty, very hasty old man; but I have been
+      harassed, persecuted, hunted by wretches, who got a scent of my gold;
+      often in my rage I longed to throw my treasure-bags to my pursuers, and
+      bid them leave me to die in peace. You have feelings, I see, both of you,
+      gentlemen; excuse, and bear with my temper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bear with you! Much enforced, the best tempers will emit a hasty spark,&rdquo;
+       said the count, looking at Lord Colambre, who was now cool again; and who,
+      with a countenance full of compassion, sat with his eyes fixed upon the
+      poor&mdash;no, not the poor, but the unhappy old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I had another son,&rdquo; continued Mr. Reynolds, &ldquo;and on him all my
+      affections concentrated when I lost my eldest, and for him I desired to
+      preserve the estate which his mother brought into the family. Since you
+      know nothing of my affairs, let me explain to you: that estate was so
+      settled, that it would have gone to the child, even the daughter of my
+      eldest son, if there had been a legitimate child. But I knew there was no
+      marriage, and I held out firm to my opinion. &lsquo;If there was a marriage,&rsquo;
+      said I, &lsquo;show me the marriage certificate, and I will acknowledge the
+      marriage, and acknowledge the child:&rsquo; but they could not, and I knew they
+      could not; and I kept the estate for my darling boy,&rdquo; cried the old
+      gentleman, with the exultation of successful positiveness again appearing
+      strong in his physiognomy: but, suddenly changing and relaxing, his
+      countenance fell, and he added, &ldquo;but now I have no darling boy. What use
+      all!&mdash;all must go to the heir at law, or I must will it to a stranger&mdash;a
+      lady of quality, who has just found out she is my relation&mdash;God knows
+      how! I&rsquo;m no genealogist&mdash;and sends me Irish cheese, and Iceland moss,
+      for my breakfast, and her waiting gentlewoman to namby-pamby me. Oh, I&rsquo;m
+      sick of it all&mdash;see through it&mdash;wish I was blind&mdash;wish I
+      had a hiding-place, where flatterers could not find me&mdash;pursued,
+      chased&mdash;must change my lodgings again to-morrow&mdash;will, will&mdash;I
+      beg your pardon, gentlemen, again: you were going to tell me, sir,
+      something more of my eldest son; and how I was led away from the subject,
+      I don&rsquo;t know; but I meant only to have assured you that his memory was
+      dear to me, till I was so tormented about that unfortunate affair of his
+      pretended marriage, that at length I hated to hear him named; but the heir
+      at law, at last, will triumph over me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my good sir, not if you triumph over yourself, and do justice,&rdquo; cried
+      Lord Colambre; &ldquo;if you listen to the truth, which my friend will tell you,
+      and if you will read and believe the confirmation of it, under your son&rsquo;s
+      own hand, in this packet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His own hand indeed! His seal&mdash;unbroken. But how&mdash;when&mdash;where&mdash;why
+      was it kept so long, and how came it into your hands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran told Mr. Reynolds that the packet had been given to him
+      by Captain Reynolds on his death-bed; related the dying acknowledgment
+      which Captain Reynolds had made of his marriage; and gave an account of
+      the delivery of the packet to the ambassador, who had promised to transmit
+      it faithfully. Lord Colambre told the manner in which it had been mislaid,
+      and at last recovered from among the deceased ambassador&rsquo;s papers. The
+      father still gazed at the direction, and re-examined the seals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son&rsquo;s hand-writing&mdash;my son&rsquo;s seals! But where is the certificate
+      of the marriage?&rdquo; repeated he; &ldquo;if it is withinside of this packet, I have
+      done great <i>in</i>&mdash;but I am convinced it never was a marriage. Yet
+      I wish now it could be proved&mdash;only, in that case, I have for years
+      done great&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you open the packet, sir?&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Reynolds looked up at him with a look that said, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t clearly know
+      what interest you have in all this.&rdquo; But, unable to speak, and his hands
+      trembling so that he could scarcely break the seals, he tore off the
+      cover, laid the papers before him, sat down, and took breath. Lord
+      Colambre, however impatient, had now too much humanity to hurry the old
+      gentleman: he only ran for the spectacles, which he espied on the
+      chimney-piece, rubbed them bright, and held them ready. Mr. Reynolds
+      stretched his hand out for them, put them on, and the first paper he
+      opened was the certificate of the marriage: he read it aloud, and, putting
+      it down, said, &ldquo;Now I acknowledge the marriage. I always said, if there is
+      a marriage there must be a certificate. And you see now there is a
+      certificate&mdash;I acknowledge the marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; cried Lord Colambre, &ldquo;I am happy, positively happy. Acknowledge
+      your grand-daughter, sir&mdash;acknowledge Miss Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Acknowledge whom, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Acknowledge Miss Reynolds&mdash;your grand-daughter; I ask no more&mdash;do
+      what you will with your fortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, now I understand&mdash;I begin to understand, this young gentleman is
+      in love&mdash;but where is my grand-daughter? how shall I know she is my
+      grand-daughter? I have not heard of her since she was an infant&mdash;I
+      forgot her existence&mdash;I have done her great injustice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She knows nothing of it, sir,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, who now entered into a
+      full explanation of Miss Nugent&rsquo;s history, and of her connexion with his
+      family, and of his own attachment to her; concluding the whole by assuring
+      Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every virtue under heaven. &ldquo;And
+      as to your fortune, sir, I know that she will, as I do, say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No matter what she will say,&rdquo; interrupted old Reynolds; &ldquo;where is she?
+      When I see her, I shall hear what she says. Tell me where she is&mdash;let
+      me see her. I long to see whether there is any likeness to her poor
+      father. Where is she? Let me see her immediately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir, at Buxton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles? I suppose you think
+      I can&rsquo;t stir from my chair, but you are mistaken. I think nothing of a
+      journey of a hundred and sixty miles&mdash;I am ready to set off to-morrow&mdash;this
+      instant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre said, that he was sure Miss Reynolds would obey her
+      grandfather&rsquo;s slightest summons, as it was her duty to do, and would be
+      with him as soon as possible, if this would be more agreeable to him. &ldquo;I
+      will write to her instantly,&rdquo; said his lordship, &ldquo;if you will commission
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my lord, I do not commission&mdash;I will go&mdash;I think nothing, I
+      say, of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles&mdash;I&rsquo;ll go&mdash;and set
+      out to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with the result of their
+      visit, now thought it best to leave old Reynolds at liberty to rest
+      himself, after so many strong and varied feelings. They paid their parting
+      compliments, settled the time for the next day&rsquo;s journey, and were just
+      going to quit the room, when Lord Colambre heard in the passage a
+      well-known voice&mdash;the voice of Mrs. Petito.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, my Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s best compliments, and I will call again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have no calling
+      again&mdash;I&rsquo;ll be hanged if I do! Let her in now, and I&rsquo;ll see her&mdash;Jack!
+      let in that woman now or never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The lady&rsquo;s gone, sir, out of the street door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After her, then&mdash;now or never, tell her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir, she was in a hackney coach.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing the
+      hackney coachman just turning, beckoned at the window, and Mrs. Petito was
+      set down again, and ushered in by Jack, who announced her as, &ldquo;the lady,
+      sir.&rdquo; The only lady he had seen in that house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Mr. Reynolds, I&rsquo;m so obliged to you for letting me in,&rdquo; cried
+      Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the passage, and speaking in a voice
+      and manner well mimicked after her betters. &ldquo;You are so very good and
+      kind, and I am so much obliged to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor kind,&rdquo; said old
+      Reynolds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You strange man,&rdquo; said Mrs. Petito, advancing graceful in shawl drapery;
+      but she stopped short. &ldquo;My Lord Colambre and Count O&rsquo;Halloran, as I hope
+      to be saved!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know Mrs. Petito was an acquaintance of yours, gentlemen,&rdquo; said
+      Mr. Reynolds, smiling shrewdly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Count O&rsquo;Halloran was too polite to deny his acquaintance with a lady who
+      challenged it by thus naming him; but he had not the slightest
+      recollection of her, though it seems he had met her on the stairs when he
+      visited Lady Dashfort at Killpatricks-town. Lord Colambre was &ldquo;indeed <i>undeniably
+      an old acquaintance</i>:&rdquo; and as soon as she had recovered from her first
+      natural start and vulgar exclamation, she with very easy familiarity hoped
+      &ldquo;my Lady Clonbrony, and my Lord, and Miss Nugent, and all her friends in
+      the family, were well;&rdquo; and said, &ldquo;she did not know whether she was to
+      congratulate his lordship or not upon Miss Broadhurst, my Lady Berryl&rsquo;s
+      marriage, but she should soon have to hope for his lordship&rsquo;s
+      congratulations for another marriage in <i>her</i> present family&mdash;Lady
+      Isabel to Colonel Heathcock, who was come in for a large <i>portion</i>,
+      and they are buying the wedding clothes&mdash;sights of clothes&mdash;and
+      the di&rsquo;monds, this day; and Lady Dashfort and my Lady Isabel sent me
+      especially, sir, to you, Mr. Reynolds, and to tell you, sir, before any
+      body else; and to hope the cheese <i>come</i> safe up again at last; and
+      to ask whether the Iceland moss agrees with your chocolate, and is
+      palatable? it&rsquo;s the most <i>diluent</i> thing upon the universal earth,
+      and the most <i>tonic</i> and fashionable&mdash;the Duchess of Torcaster
+      takes it always for breakfast, and Lady St. James too is quite a convert,
+      and I hear the Duke of V*** takes it too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the devil may take it too, for any thing that I care,&rdquo; said old
+      Reynolds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear, dear sir! you are so refractory a patient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am no patient at all, ma&rsquo;am, and have no patience either: I am as well
+      as you are, or my Lady Dashfort either, and hope, God willing, long to
+      continue so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Petito smiled aside at Lord Colambre, to mark her perception of the
+      man&rsquo;s strangeness. Then, in a cajoling voice, addressing herself to the
+      old gentleman, &ldquo;Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven grants my
+      daily and nightly prayers, and my Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s also. So, Mr. Reynolds,
+      if the ladies&rsquo; prayers are of any avail, you ought to be purely, and I
+      suppose ladies&rsquo; prayers have the precedence in efficacy. But it was not of
+      prayers and death-bed affairs I came commissioned to treat&mdash;but of
+      weddings my diplomacy was to speak: and to premise my Lady Dashfort would
+      have come herself in her carriage, but is hurried out of her senses, and
+      my Lady Isabel could not in proper modesty; so they sent me as their <i>double</i>,
+      to hope you, my dear Mr. Reynolds, who is one of the family relations,
+      will honour the wedding with your presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be no honour, and they know that as well as I do,&rdquo; said the
+      intractable Mr. Reynolds. &ldquo;It will be no advantage, either; but that they
+      do not know as well as I do. Mrs. Petito, to save you and your lady all
+      trouble about me in future, please to let my Lady Dashfort know that I
+      have just received and read the certificate of my son Captain Reynolds&rsquo;
+      marriage with Miss St. Omar. I have acknowledged the marriage. Better late
+      than never; and to-morrow morning, God willing, shall set out with this
+      young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to see, and intend publicly to
+      acknowledge, my grand-daughter&mdash;provided she will acknowledge me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Crimini!</i>&rdquo; exclaimed Mrs. Petito, &ldquo;what new turns are here? Well,
+      sir, I shall tell my lady of the <i>metamorphoses</i> that have taken
+      place, though by what magic I can&rsquo;t guess. But, since it seems annoying
+      and inopportune, I shall make my <i>finale</i>, and shall thus leave a
+      verbal P.P.C.&mdash;as you are leaving town, it seems, for Buxton so early
+      in the morning. My Lord Colambre, if I see rightly into a millstone, as I
+      hope and believe I do on the present occasion, I have to congratulate your
+      lordship (haven&rsquo;t I?) upon something like a succession, or a windfall, in
+      this <i>denewment</i>. And I beg you&rsquo;ll make my humble respects acceptable
+      to the <i>ci-devant</i> Miss Grace Nugent that was; and I won&rsquo;t <i>derrogate</i>
+      her by any other name in the interregnum, as I am persuaded it will only
+      be a temporary name, scarce worth assuming, except for the honour of the
+      public adoption; and that will, I&rsquo;m confident, be soon exchanged for a
+      viscount&rsquo;s title, or I have no sagacity or sympathy. I hope I don&rsquo;t (pray
+      don&rsquo;t let me) put you to the blush, my lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have helped it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Count O&rsquo;Halloran, your most obedient! I had the honour of meeting you at
+      Killpatricks-town,&rdquo; said Mrs. Petito, backing to the door, and twitching
+      her shawl. She stumbled, nearly fell down, over the large dog&mdash;caught
+      by the door, and recovered herself&mdash;Hannibal rose and shook his ears.
+      &ldquo;Poor fellow! you are of my acquaintance, too.&rdquo; She would have stroked his
+      head; but Hannibal walked off indignant, and so did she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus ended certain hopes: for Mrs. Petito had conceived that her <i>diplomacy</i>
+      might be turned to account; that in her character of an ambassadress, as
+      Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s double, by the aid of Iceland moss in chocolate, of
+      flattery properly administered, and of bearing with all her <i>dear</i>
+      Mr. Reynolds&rsquo; <i>oddnesses</i> and <i>rough-nesses</i>, she might in time&mdash;that
+      is to say, before he made a new will&mdash;become his dear Mrs. Petito; or
+      (for stranger things have happened and do happen every day), his dear Mrs.
+      Reynolds! Mrs. Petito, however, was good at a retreat; and she flattered
+      herself that at least nothing of this underplot had appeared: and at all
+      events she secured, by her services in this embassy, the long looked-for
+      object of her ambition, Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s scarlet velvet gown&mdash;&ldquo;not yet
+      a thread the worse for the wear!&rdquo; One cordial look at this comforted her
+      for the loss of her expected <i>octogenaire</i>; and she proceeded to
+      discomfit her lady, by repeating the message with which strange old Mr.
+      Reynolds had charged her. So ended all Lady Dashfort&rsquo;s hopes of his
+      fortune.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Since the death of his youngest son, she had been indefatigable in her
+      attentions, and sanguine in her hopes: the disappointment affected both
+      her interest and her pride, as an <i>intrigante</i>. It was necessary,
+      however, to keep her feelings to herself; for if Heathcock should hear any
+      thing of the matter before the articles were signed, he might &ldquo;be off!&rdquo;&mdash;so
+      she put him and Lady Isabel into her coach directly&mdash;drove to Rundell
+      and Bridges&rsquo;, to make sure at all events of the jewels.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time Count O&rsquo;Halloran and Lord Colambre, delighted with the
+      result of their visit, took leave of Mr. Reynolds, after having arranged
+      the journey, and appointed the hour for setting off the next day. Lord
+      Colambre proposed to call upon Mr. Reynolds in the evening, and introduce
+      his father, Lord Clonbrony; but Mr. Reynolds said, &ldquo;No, no! I&rsquo;m not
+      ceremonious. I have given you proofs enough of that, I think, in the short
+      time we&rsquo;ve been already acquainted. Time enough to introduce your father
+      to me when we are in a carriage, going our journey: then we can talk, and
+      get acquainted: but merely to come this evening in a hurry, and say, &lsquo;Lord
+      Clonbrony, Mr. Reynolds;&mdash;Mr. Reynolds, Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;&mdash;and
+      then bob our two heads at one another, and scrape one foot back, and away!&mdash;where&rsquo;s
+      the use of that nonsense at my time of life, or at any time of life? No,
+      no! we have enough to do without that, I dare say.&mdash;Good morning to
+      you, Count O&rsquo;Halloran! I thank you heartily. From the first moment I saw
+      you, I liked you: lucky too, that you brought your dog with you! &lsquo;Twas
+      Hannibal made me first let you in; I saw him over the top of the blind.
+      Hannibal, my good fellow! I&rsquo;m more obliged to you than you can guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So are we all,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannibal was well patted, and then they parted. In returning home they met
+      Sir James Brooke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you,&rdquo; said Sir James, &ldquo;I should be in London almost as soon as
+      you. Have you found old Reynolds?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just come from him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How does your business prosper? I hope as well as mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A history of all that had passed up to the present moment was given, and
+      hearty congratulations received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going now, Sir James?&mdash;cannot you come with us?&rdquo; said
+      Lord Colambre and the count.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible,&rdquo; replied Sir James;&mdash;&ldquo;but, perhaps, you can come with me&mdash;I&rsquo;m
+      going to Rundell and Bridges&rsquo;, to give some old family diamonds either to
+      be new set or exchanged. Count O&rsquo;Halloran, I know you are a judge of these
+      things; pray come and give me your opinion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better consult your bride elect!&rdquo; said the count.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she knows little of the matter&mdash;and cares less,&rdquo; replied Sir
+      James.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not so this bride elect, or I mistake her much,&rdquo; said the count, as they
+      passed by the window, at Rundell and Bridges&rsquo;, and saw Lady Isabel, who,
+      with Lady Dashfort, had been holding consultation deep with the jeweller;
+      and Heathcock, playing <i>personnage muet</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Dashfort, who had always, as old Reynolds expressed it, &ldquo;her head
+      upon her shoulders,&rdquo;&mdash;presence of mind where her interests were
+      concerned, ran to the door before the count and Lord Colambre could enter,
+      giving a hand to each&mdash;as if they had all parted the best friends in
+      the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do? how do?&mdash;Give you joy! give me joy! and all that. But mind!
+      not a word,&rdquo; said she, laying her finger upon her lips, &ldquo;not a word before
+      Heathcock of old Reynolds, or of the best part of the old fool&mdash;his
+      fortune!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentlemen bowed, in sign of submission to her ladyship&rsquo;s commands; and
+      comprehended that she feared Heathcock might <i>be off</i>, if the best
+      part of his bride (her fortune, or her <i>expectations</i>) were lowered
+      in value or in prospect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How low is she reduced,&rdquo; whispered Lord Colambre, &ldquo;when such a husband is
+      thought a prize&mdash;and to be secured by a manoeuvre!&rdquo; He sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Spare that generous sigh!&rdquo; said Sir James Brooke: &ldquo;it is wasted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror, at which she was
+      trying on a diamond crescent. Her face clouded at the sight of Count
+      O&rsquo;Halloran and Lord Colambre, and grew dark as hatred when she saw Sir
+      James Brooke. She walked away to the farther end of the shop, and asked
+      one of the shopmen the price of a diamond necklace, which lay upon the
+      counter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man said he really did not know; it belonged to Lady Oranmore; it had
+      just been new set for one of her ladyship&rsquo;s daughters, &ldquo;who is going to be
+      married to Sir James Brooke&mdash;one of the gentlemen, my lady, who are
+      just come in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, calling to his master, he asked him the price of the necklace: he
+      named the value, which was considerable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters were vastly too
+      philosophical to think of diamonds,&rdquo; said Lady Isabel to her mother, with
+      a sort of sentimental sneer in her voice and countenance. &ldquo;But it is some
+      comfort to me to find, in these pattern-women, philosophy and love do not
+      so wholly engross the heart, that they
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;Feel every vanity in fondness lost.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Twould be difficult, in some cases,&rdquo; thought many present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Pon honour, di&rsquo;monds are cursed expensive things, I know!&rdquo; said
+      Heathcock. &ldquo;But, be that as it may,&rdquo; whispered he to the lady, though loud
+      enough to be heard by others, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve laid a damned round wager, that no
+      woman&rsquo;s diamonds married this winter, under a countess, in Lon&rsquo;on, shall
+      eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock&rsquo;s! and Mr. Rundell here&rsquo;s to be judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest smiles; one of those
+      smiles which she had formerly bestowed upon Lord Colambre, and which he
+      had once fancied expressed so much sensibility&mdash;such discriminative
+      and delicate penetration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our hero felt so much contempt, that he never wasted another sigh of pity
+      for her degradation. Lady Dashfort came up to him as he was standing
+      alone; and, whilst the count and Sir James were settling about the
+      diamonds, &ldquo;My Lord Colambre,&rdquo; said she, in a low voice, &ldquo;I know your
+      thoughts, and I could moralize as well as you, if I did not prefer
+      laughing&mdash;you are right enough; and so am I, and so is Isabel; we are
+      all right. For look here: women have not always the liberty of choice, and
+      therefore they can&rsquo;t be expected to have always the power of refusal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got into her carriage
+      with her daughter, her daughter&rsquo;s diamonds, and her precious son-in-law,
+      her daughter&rsquo;s companion for life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more I see,&rdquo; said Count O&rsquo;Halloran to Lord Colambre, as they left the
+      shop, &ldquo;the more I find reason to congratulate you upon your escape, my
+      dear lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I owe it not to my own wit or wisdom,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre; &ldquo;but much to
+      love, and much to friendship,&rdquo; added he, turning to Sir James Brooke:
+      &ldquo;here was the friend who early warned me against the siren&rsquo;s voice; who,
+      before I knew the Lady Isabel, told me what I have since found to be true,
+      that
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;&lsquo;Two passions alternately govern her fate&mdash;Her
+   business is love, but her pleasure is hate,&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is dreadfully severe, Sir James,&rdquo; said Count O&rsquo;Halloran; &ldquo;but, I am
+      afraid, is just.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure it is just, or I would not have said it,&rdquo; replied Sir James
+      Brooke. &ldquo;For the foibles of the sex, I hope, I have as much indulgence as
+      any man, and for the errors of passion as much pity; but I cannot repress
+      the indignation, the abhorrence I feel against women cold and vain, who
+      use their wit and their charms only to make others miserable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre recollected at this moment Lady Isabel&rsquo;s look and voice,
+      when she declared that she would let her little finger be cut off to
+      purchase the pleasure of inflicting on Lady De Cressy, for one hour, the
+      torture of jealousy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; continued Sir James Brooke, &ldquo;now that I am going to marry into
+      an Irish family, I may feel, with peculiar energy, disapprobation of this
+      mother and daughter on another account; but you, Lord Colambre, will do me
+      the justice to recollect, that before I had any personal interest in the
+      country, I expressed, as a general friend to Ireland, antipathy to those
+      who return the hospitality they received from a warm-hearted people, by
+      publicly setting the example of elegant sentimental hypocrisy, or daring
+      disregard of decorum, by privately endeavouring to destroy the domestic
+      peace of families, on which, at last, public as well as private virtue and
+      happiness depend. I do rejoice, my dear Lord Colambre, to hear you say
+      that I had any share in saving you from the siren; and now I will never
+      speak of these ladies more. I am sorry you cannot stay in town to see&mdash;but
+      why should I be sorry&mdash;we shall meet again, I trust, and I shall
+      introduce you; and you, I hope, will introduce me to a very different
+      charmer. Farewell!&mdash;you have my warm good wishes, wherever you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sir James turned off quickly to the street in which Lady Oranmore lived,
+      and Lord Colambre had not time to tell him that he knew and admired his
+      intended bride. Count O&rsquo;Halloran promised to do this for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; said the good count, &ldquo;I am to take leave of you; and I assure
+      you I do it with so much reluctance, that nothing less than positive
+      engagements to stay in town would prevent me from setting off with you
+      to-morrow; but I shall be soon, very soon, at liberty to return to
+      Ireland; and Clonbrony Castle, if you will give me leave, I will see
+      before I see Halloran Castle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre joyfully thanked his friend for this promise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, it is to indulge myself. I long to see you happy&mdash;long to
+      behold the choice of such a heart as yours. Pray do not steal a march upon
+      me&mdash;let me know in time. I will leave every thing&mdash;even my
+      friend the minister&rsquo;s secret expedition&mdash;for your wedding. But I
+      trust I shall be in time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly you will, my dear count; if ever that wedding&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>If</i>,&rdquo; repeated the count.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>If</i>,&rdquo; repeated Lord Colambre. &ldquo;Obstacles which, when we last
+      parted, appeared to me invincible, prevented my having ever even attempted
+      to make an impression on the heart of the woman I love: and if you knew
+      her, count, as well as I do, you would know that her love could &lsquo;not
+      unsought be won.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of that I cannot doubt, or she would not be your choice; but when her
+      love is sought, we have every reason to hope,&rdquo; said the count, smiling,
+      &ldquo;that it may, because it ought to be, won by tried honour and affection. I
+      only require to be left in hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I leave you hope,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre: &ldquo;Miss Nugent&mdash;Miss
+      Reynolds, I should say, has been in the habit of considering a union with
+      me as impossible; my mother early instilled this idea into her mind. Miss
+      Nugent thought that duty forbad her to think of me; she told me so: I have
+      seen it in all her conduct and manners. The barriers of habit, the ideas
+      of duty, cannot, ought not, to be thrown down, or suddenly changed, in a
+      well-regulated female mind. And you, I am sure, know enough of the best
+      female hearts, to be aware that time&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, let this dear good charmer take her own time, provided
+      there&rsquo;s none given to affectation, or prudery, or coquetry; and from all
+      these, of course, she must be free; and of course I must be content.
+      Adieu.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII.
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As Lord Colambre was returning home, he was overtaken by Sir Terence
+      O&rsquo;Fay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my lord,&rdquo; cried Sir Terence, out of breath, &ldquo;you have led me a
+      pretty dance all over the town: here&rsquo;s a letter somewhere down in my safe
+      pocket for you, which has cost me trouble enough. Phoo! where is it now?&mdash;it&rsquo;s
+      from Miss Nugent,&rdquo; said he, holding up the letter. The direction to
+      Grosvenor-square, London, had been scratched out; and it had been
+      re-directed by Sir Terence to the Lord Viscount Colambre, at Sir James
+      Brooke&rsquo;s, Bart., Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, or elsewhere, with speed,
+      &ldquo;But the more haste the worse speed; for away it went to Brookwood,
+      Huntingdonshire, where I knew, if any where, you was to be found; but, as
+      fate and the post would have it, there the letter went coursing after you,
+      while you were running round, and <i>back</i>, and forwards, and every
+      where, I understand, to Toddrington and Wrestham, and where not, through
+      all them English places, where there&rsquo;s no cross-post: so I took it for
+      granted that it found its way to the dead-letter office, or was sticking
+      up across a pane in the d&mdash;&mdash;d postmaster&rsquo;s window at
+      Huntingdon, for the whole town to see, and it a love-letter, and some
+      puppy to claim it, under false pretence; and you all the time without it,
+      and it might breed a coolness betwixt you and Miss Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Sir Terence, give me the letter now you have me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear lord, if you knew what a race I have had, missing you here by
+      five minutes, and there by five seconds&mdash;but I have you at last, and
+      you have it&mdash;and I&rsquo;m paid this minute for all I liquidated of my
+      substance, by the pleasure I have in seeing you crack the seal and read
+      it. But take care you don&rsquo;t tumble over the orange-woman&mdash;orange
+      barrows are a great nuisance, when one&rsquo;s studying a letter in the streets
+      of London, or the metropolis. But never heed; stick to my arm, and I&rsquo;ll
+      guide you, like a blind man, safe through the thick of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Nugent&rsquo;s letter, which Lord Colambre read in spite of the jostling of
+      passengers, and the incessant talking of Sir Terence, was as follows:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Let me not be the cause of banishing you from your home and your
+    country, where you would do so much good, and make so many happy.
+    Let me not be the cause of your breaking your promise to your
+    mother; of your disappointing my dear aunt so cruelly, who has
+    complied with all our wishes, and who sacrifices, to oblige us,
+    her favourite tastes. How could she be ever happy in Ireland&mdash;how
+    could Clonbrony Castle be a home to her without her son? If you
+    take away all she had of amusement and <i>pleasure</i>, as it is
+    called, are not you bound to give her, in their stead, that
+    domestic happiness, which she can enjoy only with you, and by your
+    means? If, instead of living with her, you go into the army, she
+    will be in daily, nightly anxiety and alarm about you; and her son
+    will, instead of being a comfort, be a source of torment to her.
+
+    &ldquo;I will hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto
+    done, on every occasion where I have seen you act, what is right,
+    and just, and kind. Come here on the day you promised my aunt you
+    would; before that time I shall be in Cambridgeshire, with my
+    friend Lady Berryl; she is so good as to come to Buxton for me&mdash;I
+    shall remain with her, instead of returning to Ireland. I have
+    explained my reasons to my dear aunt&mdash;Could I have any concealment
+    from her, to whom, from my earliest childhood, I owe every thing
+    that kindness and affection could give? She is satisfied&mdash;she
+    consents to my living henceforward with Lady Berryl. Let me have
+    the pleasure of seeing by your conduct, that you approve of mine.
+
+    &ldquo;Your affectionate cousin
+
+    &ldquo;and friend,
+
+    &ldquo;GRACE NUGENT.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are capable of
+      feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our hero exquisite pleasure.
+      Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay enjoyed his lordship&rsquo;s delight; and
+      forgot himself so completely, that he never even inquired whether Lord
+      Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had spoken to him some time
+      before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence&rsquo;s interest. The next
+      morning, when the carriage was at the door, and Sir Terence was just
+      taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and actually in tears, wishing
+      them all manner of happiness, though he said there was none left now in
+      London, or the wide world even, for him&mdash;Lord Colambre went up to
+      him, and said, &ldquo;Sir Terence, you have never inquired whether I have done
+      your business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear, I&rsquo;m not thinking of that now&mdash;time enough by the post&mdash;I
+      can write after you; but my thoughts won&rsquo;t turn for me to business now&mdash;no
+      matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your business is done,&rdquo; replied Lord Colambre.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you had upon your mind
+      and heart. When any thing&rsquo;s upon my heart, good morning to my head, it&rsquo;s
+      not worth a lemon. Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly, and all
+      happiness attend you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;and, since
+      it&rsquo;s so ordered, I must live without you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! you&rsquo;ll live better without me, my lord; I am not a good liver, I
+      know, nor the best of all companions, for a nobleman, young or old; and
+      now you&rsquo;ll be rich, and not put to your shifts and your wits, what would I
+      have to do for you?&mdash;Sir Terence O&rsquo;Fay, you know, was only <i>the
+      poor nobleman&rsquo;s friend</i>, and you&rsquo;ll never want to call upon him again,
+      thanks to your jewel, your Pitt&rsquo;s-diamond of a son there. So we part here,
+      and depend upon it you&rsquo;re better without me&mdash;that&rsquo;s all my comfort,
+      or my heart would break. The carriage is waiting this long time, and this
+      young lover&rsquo;s aching to be off. God bless you both!&mdash;that&rsquo;s my last
+      word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They called in Red Lion-square, punctual to the moment, on old Mr.
+      Reynolds, but his window-shutters were shut; he had been seized in the
+      night with a violent fit of the gout, which, as he said, held him fast by
+      the leg. &ldquo;But here,&rdquo; said he, giving Lord Colambre a letter, &ldquo;here&rsquo;s what
+      will do your business without me. Take this written acknowledgment I have
+      penned for you, and give my grand-daughter her father&rsquo;s letter to read&mdash;it
+      would touch a heart of stone&mdash;touched mine&mdash;wish I could drag
+      the mother back out of her grave, to do her justice&mdash;all one now. You
+      see, at last, I&rsquo;m not a suspicious rascal, however, for I don&rsquo;t suspect
+      you of palming a false grand-daughter upon me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you,&rdquo; said Lord Colambre, &ldquo;give your grand-daughter leave to come up
+      to town to you, sir! You would satisfy yourself, at least, as to what
+      resemblance she may bear to her father: Miss Reynolds will come instantly,
+      and she will nurse you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; I won&rsquo;t have her come. If she comes, I won&rsquo;t see her&mdash;sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t
+      begin by nursing me&mdash;not selfish. As soon as I get rid of this gout,
+      I shall be my own man, and young again, and I&rsquo;ll soon be after you across
+      the sea, that sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t stop me: I&rsquo;ll come to&mdash;what&rsquo;s the name of your
+      place in Ireland?&mdash;and see what likeness I can find to her poor
+      father in this grand-daughter of mine, that you puffed so finely
+      yesterday. And let me see whether she will wheedle me as finely as Mrs.
+      Petito would. Don&rsquo;t get ready your marriage settlements, do you hear? till
+      you have seen my will, which I shall sign at&mdash;what&rsquo;s the name of your
+      place? Write it down there; there&rsquo;s pen and ink; and leave me, for the
+      twinge is coming, and I shall roar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you permit me, sir, to leave my own servant with you to take care of
+      you? I can answer for his attention and fidelity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see his face, and I&rsquo;ll tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre&rsquo;s servant was summoned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I like his face. God bless you!&mdash;Leave me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre gave his servant a charge to bear with Mr. Reynolds&rsquo; rough
+      manner and temper, and to pay the poor old gentleman every possible
+      attention. Then our hero proceeded with his father on his journey, and on
+      this journey nothing happened worthy of note. On his first perusal of the
+      letter from Grace, Lord Colambre had feared that she would have left
+      Buxton with Lady Berryl before he could reach it; but, upon recollection,
+      he hoped that the few lines he had written, addressed to his mother <i>and</i>
+      Miss Nugent, with the assurance that he should be with them on Wednesday,
+      would be sufficient to show her that some great change had happened, and
+      consequently sufficient to prevent her from quitting her aunt, till she
+      could know whether such a separation would be necessary. He argued wisely,
+      more wisely than Grace had reasoned; for, notwithstanding this note, she
+      would have left Buxton before his arrival, but for Lady Berryl&rsquo;s strength
+      of mind, and positive determination not to set out with her till Lord
+      Colambre should arrive to explain. In the interval, poor Grace was,
+      indeed, in an anxious state of suspense; and her uncertainty, whether she
+      was doing right or wrong, by staying to see Lord Colambre, tormented her
+      most.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, you cannot help yourself: be quiet,&rdquo; said Lady Berryl: &ldquo;I will
+      take the whole upon my conscience; and I hope my conscience may never have
+      any thing worse to answer for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grace was the first person who, from her window, saw Lord Colambre, the
+      instant the carriage drove to the door. She ran to her friend Lady
+      Berryl&rsquo;s apartment. &ldquo;He is come!&mdash;Now, take me away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet, my sweet friend! Lie down upon this sofa, if you please; and
+      keep yourself tranquil, whilst I go and see what you ought to do; and
+      depend upon me for a true friend, in whose mind, as in your own, duty is
+      the first object.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I depend on you entirely,&rdquo; said Grace, sinking down on the sofa: &ldquo;and you
+      see I obey you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many thanks to you for lying down, when you can&rsquo;t stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Berryl went to Lord Clonbrony&rsquo;s apartment; she was met by Sir Arthur.
+      &ldquo;Come, my love! come quick!&mdash;Lord Colambre is arrived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it; and does he go to Ireland? Speak instantly, that I may tell
+      Grace Nugent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can tell her nothing yet, my love; for we know nothing. Lord Colambre
+      will not say a word till you come; but I know, by his countenance, that he
+      has good and extraordinary news.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed rapidly along the passage to Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear, dear Lady Berryl, come! or I shall die with impatience,&rdquo;
+       cried Lady Clonbrony, in a voice and manner between laughing and crying.
+      &ldquo;There, now you have congratulated, are very happy, and very glad, and all
+      that&mdash;now, for mercy&rsquo;s sake, sit down, Lord Clonbrony! for Heaven&rsquo;s
+      sake, sit down&mdash;beside me here&mdash;or any where! Now, Colambre,
+      begin; and tell us all at once!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But as nothing is so tedious as a twice told tale, Lord Colambre&rsquo;s
+      narrative need not here be repeated. He began with Count O&rsquo;Halloran&rsquo;s
+      visit, immediately after Lady Clonbrony had left London; and went through
+      the history of the discovery that Captain Reynolds was the husband of Miss
+      St. Omar, and the father of Grace: the dying acknowledgment of his
+      marriage; the packet delivered by Count O&rsquo;Halloran to the careless
+      ambassador&mdash;how recovered, by the assistance of his executor, Sir
+      James Brooke; the travels from Wrestham to Toddrington, and thence to Red
+      Lion-square; the interview with old Reynolds, and its final result: all
+      was related as succinctly as the impatient curiosity of Lord Colambre&rsquo;s
+      auditors could desire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, wonder upon wonder! and joy upon joy!&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony. &ldquo;So my
+      darling Grace is as legitimate as I am, and an heiress after all. Where is
+      she? where is she? In your room, Lady Berryl?&mdash;Oh, Colambre! why
+      wouldn&rsquo;t you let her be by?&mdash;Lady Berryl, do you know, he would not
+      let me send for her, though she was the person of all others most
+      concerned!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For that very reason, ma&rsquo;am; and that Lord Colambre was quite right, I am
+      sure you must be sensible, when you recollect, that Grace has no idea that
+      she is not the daughter of Mr. Nugent: she has no suspicion that the
+      breath of blame ever lighted upon her mother. This part of the story
+      cannot be announced to her with too much caution; and, indeed, her mind
+      has been so much harassed and agitated, and she is at present so far from
+      strong, that great delicacy&mdash;.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True! very true, Lady Berryl,&rdquo; interrupted Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll be
+      as delicate as you please about it afterwards: but, in the first and
+      foremost place, I must tell her the best part of the story&mdash;that
+      she&rsquo;s an heiress; that never killed any body!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So, darting through all opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her way into the
+      room where Grace was lying&mdash;&ldquo;Yes, get up! get up! my own Grace, and
+      be surprised&mdash;well you may!&mdash;you are an heiress, after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I, my dear aunt?&rdquo; said Grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True, as I&rsquo;m Lady Clonbrony&mdash;and a very great heiress&mdash;and no
+      more Colambre&rsquo;s cousin than Lady Berryl here. So now begin and love him as
+      fast as you please&mdash;I give my consent&mdash;and here he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ob, mother! what have you done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have I done?&rdquo; cried Lady Clonbrony, following her son&rsquo;s eyes:&mdash;&ldquo;Lord
+      bless me!&mdash;Grace fainted dead&mdash;Lady Berryl! Oh, what have I
+      done? My dear Lady Berryl, what shall we do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Berryl hastened to her friend&rsquo;s assistance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! her colour&rsquo;s coming again,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;come away, my
+      dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so will I&mdash;though I long to
+      talk to the darling girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl leaning over her,
+      and, raising herself a little, she said, &ldquo;What has happened?&mdash;I don&rsquo;t
+      know yet&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know whether I am happy or not.&mdash;Explain all
+      this to me, my dear friend; for I am still as if I were in a dream.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With all the delicacy which Lady Clonbrony deemed superfluous, Lady Berryl
+      explained. Nothing could surpass the astonishment of Grace, on first
+      learning that Mr. Nugent was not her father. When she was told of the
+      stigma that had been cast on her birth; the suspicions, the disgrace, to
+      which her mother had been subjected for so many years&mdash;that mother,
+      whom she had so loved and respected; who had, with such care, instilled
+      into the mind of her daughter the principles of virtue and religion; that
+      mother whom Grace had always seen the example of every virtue she taught;
+      on whom her daughter never suspected that the touch of blame, the breath
+      of scandal, could rest&mdash;Grace could express her sensations only by
+      repeating, in tones of astonishment, pathos, indignation&mdash;&ldquo;My mother!&mdash;my
+      mother!&mdash;my mother!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some time she was incapable of attending to any other idea, or of
+      feeling any other sensations. When her mind was able to admit the thought,
+      her friend soothed her, by recalling the expressions of Lord Colambre&rsquo;s
+      love&mdash;the struggle by which he had been agitated, when he fancied a
+      union with her opposed by an invincible obstacle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grace sighed, and acknowledged that, in prudence, it ought to have been an
+      <i>invincible</i> obstacle&mdash;she admired the firmness of his decision,
+      the honour with which he had acted towards her. One moment she exclaimed,
+      &ldquo;Then, if I had been the daughter of a mother who had conducted herself
+      ill, he never would have trusted me!&rdquo; The next moment she recollected,
+      with pleasure, the joy she had just seen in his eyes&mdash;the affection,
+      the passion, that spoke in every word and look; then dwelt upon the sober
+      certainty, that all obstacles were removed. &ldquo;And no duty opposes my loving
+      him!&mdash;And my aunt wishes it! my kind aunt! and my dear uncle! should
+      not I go to him?&mdash;But he is not my uncle, she is not my aunt. I
+      cannot bring myself to think that they are not my relations, and that I am
+      nothing to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be every thing to them, my dear Grace,&rdquo; said Lady Berryl:&mdash;&ldquo;whenever
+      you please, you may be their daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grace blushed, and smiled, and sighed, and was consoled. But then she
+      recollected her new relation, Mr. Reynolds, her grandfather, whom she had
+      never seen, who had for years disowned her&mdash;treated her mother with
+      injustice. She could scarcely think of him with complacency: yet, when his
+      age, his sufferings, his desolate state, were represented, she pitied him;
+      and, faithful to her strong sense of duty, would have gone instantly to
+      offer him every assistance and attention in her power. Lady Berryl assured
+      her that Mr. Reynolds had positively forbidden her going to him; and that
+      he had assured Lord Colambre he would not see her if she went to him.
+      After such rapid and varied emotions, poor Grace desired repose, and her
+      friend took care that it should be secured to her for the remainder of the
+      day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, Lord Clonbrony had kindly and judiciously employed his
+      lady in a discussion about certain velvet furniture, which Grace had
+      painted for the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In Lady Clonbrony&rsquo;s mind, as in some bad paintings, there was no <i>keeping</i>;
+      all objects, great and small, were upon the same level.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment her son entered the room, her ladyship exclaimed, &ldquo;Every thing
+      pleasant at once! Here&rsquo;s your father tells me, Grace&rsquo;s velvet furniture&rsquo;s
+      all packed: really Soho&rsquo;s the best man in the world of his kind, and the
+      cleverest&mdash;and so, after all, my dear Colambre, as I always hoped and
+      prophesied, at last you will marry an heiress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Terry,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;will win his wager from Mordicai.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Terry!&rdquo; repeated Lady Clonbrony, &ldquo;that odious Terry!&mdash;I hope, my
+      lord, that he is not to be one of my comforts in Ireland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my dear mother; he is much better provided for than we could have
+      expected. One of my father&rsquo;s first objects was to prevent him from being
+      any encumbrance to you. We consulted him as to the means of making him
+      happy; and the knight acknowledged that he had long been casting a sheep&rsquo;s
+      eye at a little snug place, that will soon be open in his native country&mdash;the
+      chair of assistant barrister at the sessions. Assistant barrister!&rsquo; said
+      my father; &lsquo;but, my dear Terry, you have been all your life evading the
+      laws, and very frequently breaking the peace; do you think this has
+      qualified you peculiarly for being a guardian of the laws?&rsquo; Sir Terence
+      replied, &lsquo;Yes, sure; set a thief to catch a thief is no bad maxim. And did
+      not Mr. Colquhoun, the Scotchman, get himself made a great justice, by his
+      making all the world as wise as himself, about thieves of all sorts, by
+      land and by water, and in the air too, where he detected the mud-larks?&mdash;And
+      is not Barrington chief-justice of Botany Bay?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father now began to be seriously alarmed, lest Sir Terence should
+      insist upon his using his interest to make him an assistant barrister. He
+      was not aware that five years&rsquo; practice at the bar was a necessary
+      accomplishment for this office; when, fortunately for all parties, my good
+      friend, Count O&rsquo;Halloran, helped us out of the difficulty, by starting an
+      idea full of practical justice. A literary friend of the count&rsquo;s had been
+      for some time promised a lucrative situation under government: but,
+      unfortunately, he was a man of so much merit and ability, that they could
+      not find employment for him at home, and they gave him a commission, I
+      should rather say a contract abroad, for supplying the army with Hungarian
+      horses. Now the gentleman had not the slightest skill in horse-flesh; and,
+      as Sir Terence is a complete <i>jockey</i>, the count observed that he
+      would be the best possible deputy for his literary friend. We warranted
+      him to be a thorough going friend; and I do think the coalition will be
+      well for both parties. The count has settled it all, and I left Sir
+      Terence comfortably provided for, out of your way, my dear mother; and as
+      happy as he could be, when parting from my father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Colambre was assiduous in engaging his mother&rsquo;s attention upon any
+      subject, which could for the present draw her thoughts away from her young
+      friend; but at every pause in the conversation, her ladyship repeated, &ldquo;So
+      Grace is an heiress after all&mdash;so, after all, they know they are not
+      cousins! Well, I prefer Grace, a thousand times over, to any other heiress
+      in England. No obstacle, no objection. They have my consent. I always
+      prophesied Colambre would marry an heiress; but why not marry directly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her ardour and impatience to hurry things forward seemed now likely to
+      retard the accomplishment of her own wishes; and Lord Clonbrony, who
+      understood rather more of the passion of love than his lady ever had felt
+      or understood, saw the agony into which she threw her son, and felt for
+      his darling Grace. With a degree of delicacy and address of which few
+      would have supposed Lord Clonbrony capable, his lordship co-operated with
+      his son in endeavouring to keep Lady Clonbrony quiet, and to suppress the
+      hourly thanksgivings of Grace&rsquo;s <i>turning out an heiress</i>. On one
+      point, however, she vowed she would not be overruled&mdash;she would have
+      a splendid wedding at Clonbrony Castle, such as should become an heir and
+      heiress; and the wedding, she hoped, would be immediately on their return
+      to Ireland: she should announce the thing to her friends directly on her
+      arrival at Clonbrony Castle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony, &ldquo;we must wait, in the first place, the
+      pleasure of old Mr. Reynolds&rsquo; fit of the gout.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, that&rsquo;s true, because of his will,&rdquo; said her ladyship; &ldquo;but a will&rsquo;s
+      soon made, is not it? That can&rsquo;t be much delay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then there must be settlements,&rdquo; said Lord Clonbrony; &ldquo;they take
+      time. Lovers, like all the rest of mankind, must submit to the law&rsquo;s
+      delay. In the mean time, my dear, as these Buxton baths agree with you so
+      well, and as Grace does not seem to be over and above strong for
+      travelling a long journey, and as there are many curious and beautiful
+      scenes of nature here in Derbyshire&mdash;Matlock, and the wonders of the
+      Peak, and so on&mdash;which the young people would be glad to see
+      together, and may not have another opportunity soon&mdash;why not rest
+      ourselves a little? For another reason, too,&rdquo; continued his lordship,
+      bringing together as many arguments as he could&mdash;for he had often
+      found, that though Lady Clonbrony was a match for any single argument, her
+      understanding could be easily overpowered by a number, of whatever sort&mdash;&ldquo;besides,
+      my dear, here&rsquo;s Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl come to Buxton on purpose to
+      meet us; and we owe them some compliment, and something more than
+      compliment, I think: so I don&rsquo;t see why we should be in a hurry to leave
+      them, or quit Buxton&mdash;a few weeks sooner or later can&rsquo;t signify&mdash;and
+      Clonbrony Castle will be getting all the while into better order for us.
+      Burke is gone down there; and if we stay here quietly, there will be time
+      for the velvet furniture to get there before us, and to be unpacked, and
+      up in the drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s true, my lord,&rdquo; said Lady Clonbrony; &ldquo;and there is a great deal of
+      reason in all you say&mdash;so I second that motion, as Colambre, I see,
+      subscribes to it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They stayed some time in Derbyshire, and every day Lord Clonbrony proposed
+      some pleasant excursion, and contrived that the young people should be
+      left to themselves, as Mrs. Broadhurst used so strenuously to advise; the
+      recollection of whose authoritative maxims fortunately still operated upon
+      Lady Clonbrony, to the great ease and advantage of the lovers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Happy as a lover, a friend, a son; happy in the consciousness of having
+      restored a father to respectability, and persuaded a mother to quit the
+      feverish joys of fashion for the pleasures of domestic life; happy in the
+      hope of winning the whole heart of the woman he loved, and whose esteem,
+      he knew, he possessed and deserved; happy in developing every day, every
+      hour, fresh charms in his destined bride&mdash;we leave our hero,
+      returning to his native country.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that he will support
+      through life the promise of his early character; that his patriotic views
+      will extend with his power to carry wishes into action; that his
+      attachment to his warm-hearted countrymen will still increase upon further
+      acquaintance; and that he will long diffuse happiness through the wide
+      circle, which is peculiarly subject to the influence and example of a
+      great resident Irish proprietor.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT MR. MORDICAI&rsquo;S,
+    COACH MAKER, LONDON.
+
+    &ldquo;MY DEAR BROTHER,
+
+    &ldquo;Yours of the 16th, enclosing the five pound note for my father,
+    came safe to hand Monday last; and with his thanks and blessing
+    to you, he commends it to you herewith enclosed back again, on
+    account of his being in no immediate necessity, nor likelihood to
+    want in future, as you shall hear forthwith; but wants you over
+    with all speed, and the note will answer for travelling charges;
+    for we can&rsquo;t enjoy the luck it has pleased God to give us, without
+    <i>yees</i>; put the rest in your pocket, and read it when you&rsquo;ve time.
+
+    &ldquo;Old Nick&rsquo;s gone, and St. Dennis along with him, to the place he
+    come from&mdash;praise be to God! The <i>ould</i> lord has found him out in
+    his tricks; and I helped him to that, through the young lord that
+    I driv, as I informed you in my last, when he was a Welshman,
+    which was the best turn ever I did, though I did not know it no
+    more than Adam that time. So <i>Ould</i> Nick&rsquo;s turned out of the
+    agency clean and clear; and the day after it was known, there was
+    surprising great joy through the whole country; not surprising,
+    either, but just what you might, knowing him, rasonably expect.
+    He (that is, Old Nick and St. Dennis) would have been burnt that
+    night&mdash;I <i>mane</i>, in <i>effigy</i>, through the town of Clonbrony, but
+    that the new man, Mr. Burke, came down that day too soon to stop
+    it, and said, &lsquo;it was not becoming to trample on the fallen,&rsquo; or
+    something that way, that put an end to it; and though it was a
+    great disappointment to many, and to me in particular, I could not
+    but like the jantleman the better for it any how. They say he is
+    a very good jantleman, and as unlike Old Nick or the saint as can
+    be; and takes no duty fowl, nor glove, nor sealing money; nor asks
+    duty work nor duty turf. Well, when I was disappointed of the
+    <i>effigy</i>, I comforted myself by making a bonfire of Old Nick&rsquo;s big
+    rick of duty turf, which, by great luck, was out in the road, away
+    from all dwelling-house, or thatch, or yards, to take fire: so no
+    danger in life, or objection. And such another blaze! I wished
+    you&rsquo;d seed it&mdash;and all the men, women, and children, in the town
+    and country, far and near, gathered round it, shouting and dancing
+    like mad!&mdash;and it was light as day quite across the bog, as far as
+    Hartley Finnigan&rsquo;s house. And I heard after, they seen it from all
+    parts of the three counties, and they thought it was St. John&rsquo;s
+    Eve in a mistake&mdash;or couldn&rsquo;t make out what it was; but all took
+    it in good part, for a good sign, and were in great joy. As for
+    St. Dennis and <i>Ould</i> Nick, an attorney had his foot upon &lsquo;em with
+    an habere, a latitat, and three executions hanging over &lsquo;em: and
+    there&rsquo;s the end of rogues! and a great example in the country.
+    And&mdash;no more about it; for I can&rsquo;t be wasting more ink upon them
+    that don&rsquo;t deserve it at my hands, when I want it for them that
+    do, as you shall see. So some weeks past, and there was great
+    cleaning at Clonbrony Castle, and in the town of Clonbrony; and
+    the new agent&rsquo;s smart and clever: and he had the glaziers, and
+    the painters, and the slaters, up and down in the town wherever
+    wanted; and you wouldn&rsquo;t know it again. Thinks I, this is no bad
+    sign! Now, cock up your ears, Pat! for the great news is coming,
+    and the good. The master&rsquo;s come home, long life to him! and family
+    come home yesterday, all entirely! The <i>ould</i> lord and the young
+    lord, (ay, there&rsquo;s the man, Paddy!) and my lady, and Miss Nugent.
+    And I driv Miss Nugent&rsquo;s maid and another; so I had the luck to be
+    in it along <i>wid</i> &lsquo;em, and see all, from first to last. And first,
+    I must tell you, my young Lord Colambre remembered and noticed me
+    the minute he lit at our inn, and condescended to beckon me out of
+    the yard to him, and axed me&mdash;&rsquo; Friend Larry,&rsquo; says he, &lsquo;did you
+    keep your promise?&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;My oath again the whiskey, is it?&rsquo; says
+    I. &lsquo;My lord, I surely did,&rsquo; said I; which was true, as all the
+    country knows I never tasted a drop since. &lsquo;And I&rsquo;m proud to see
+    your honour, my lord, as good as your word, too, and back again
+    among us.&rsquo; So then there was a call for the horses; and no more at
+    that time passed betwix&rsquo; my young lord and me, but that he pointed
+    me out to the <i>ould</i> one, as I went off. I noticed and thanked him
+    for it in my heart, though I did not know all the good was to come
+    of it. Well, no more of myself, for the present.
+
+    &ldquo;Ogh, it&rsquo;s I driv &lsquo;em well; and we all got to the great gate of
+    the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see;
+    with the sun shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies
+    noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in
+    the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about, and
+    kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were singing,
+    and I stopped whistling, that they might hear them; but sorrow
+    bit could they hear when they got to the park gate, for there was
+    such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see&mdash;and they had
+    the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew &lsquo;em home, with
+    blessings, through the park. And, God bless &lsquo;em! when they got
+    out, they didn&rsquo;t go shut themselves up in the great drawing-room,
+    but went straight out to the <i>tir</i>rass, to satisfy the eyes and
+    hearts that followed them. My lady <i>laning</i> on my young lord, and
+    Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest angel that ever you
+    set eyes on, with the finest complexion, and sweetest of smiles,
+    <i>laning</i> upon the <i>ould</i> lord&rsquo;s arm, who had his hat off, bowing
+    to all, and noticing the old tenants as he passed by name. Oh,
+    there was great gladness and tears in the midst; for joy I could
+    scarce keep from myself.
+
+    &ldquo;After a turn or two upon the <i>tir</i>rass, my Lord Colambre <i>quit</i>
+    his mother&rsquo;s arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the
+    slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some one.
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;Is it the Widow O&rsquo;Neil, my lord?&rsquo; says I; &lsquo;she&rsquo;s yonder, with
+    the white kerchief, betwixt her son and daughter, as usual.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the <i>tree</i>
+    would stir; and then he gave <i>tree</i> beckons with his own finger,
+    and they all <i>tree</i> came fast enough to the bottom of the slope
+    forenent my lord: and he went down and helped the widow up, (oh,
+    he&rsquo;s the true jantleman!) and brought &lsquo;em all <i>tree</i> up on the
+    <i>tir</i>rass, to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close after,
+    that I might hear, which wasn&rsquo;t manners, but I couldn&rsquo;t help
+    it. So what he said I don&rsquo;t well know, for I could not get near
+    enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take the
+    Widow O&rsquo;Neil by the hand, and then my Lord Colambre <i>&lsquo;troduced</i>
+    Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the word <i>namesake</i>, and
+    something about a check curtain; but, whatever it was, they was
+    all greatly pleased: then my Lord Colambre turned and looked for
+    Brian, who had fell back, and took him, with some commendation, to
+    my lord his father. And my lord the master said, which I didn&rsquo;t
+    know till after, that they should have their house and farm at the
+    <i>ould</i> rent; and at the surprise, the widow dropped down dead; and
+    there was a cry as for ten <i>berrings</i>. &lsquo;Be qui&rsquo;te,&rsquo; says I, &lsquo;she&rsquo;s
+    only kilt for joy;&rsquo; and I went and lift her up, for her son had
+    no more strength that minute than the child new born; and Grace
+    trembled like a leaf, as white as the sheet, but not long, for the
+    mother came to, and was as well as ever when I brought some water,
+    which Miss Nugent handed to her with her own hand.
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;That was always pretty and good,&rsquo; said the widow, laying her
+    hand upon Miss Nugent, &lsquo;and kind and good to me and mine.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;That minute there was music from below. The blind harper, O&rsquo;Neil,
+    with his harp, that struck up &lsquo;Gracey Nugent.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;And that finished, and my Lord Colambre smiling, with the tears
+    standing in his eyes too, and the <i>ould</i> lord quite wiping his, I
+    ran to the <i>tir</i>rass brink to bid O&rsquo;Neil play it again; but as I
+    run, I thought I heard a voice call &lsquo;Larry!&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;Who calls Larry?&rsquo; says I.
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;My Lord Colambre calls you, Larry,&rsquo; says all at once; and four
+    takes me by the shoulders and spins me round. &lsquo;There&rsquo;s my young
+    lord calling you, Larry&mdash;run for your life.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;So I run back for my life, and walked respectful, with my hat in
+    my hand, when I got near.
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;Put on your hat, my father desires it,&rsquo; says my Lord Colambre.
+    The <i>ould</i> lord made a sign to that purpose, but was too full
+    to speak. &lsquo;Where&rsquo;s your father?&rsquo; continues my young lord. &lsquo;He&rsquo;s
+    very <i>ould</i>, my lord,&rsquo; says I.&mdash;&rsquo; I didn&rsquo;t <i>ax</i> you how <i>ould</i> he
+    was,&rsquo; says he; &lsquo;but where is he?&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;He&rsquo;s behind the crowd below,
+    on account of his infirmities; he couldn&rsquo;t walk so fast as the
+    rest, my lord,&rsquo; says I; &lsquo;but his heart is with you, if not his
+    body.&rsquo;&mdash;&lsquo;I must have his body too: so bring him bodily before
+    us; and this shall be your warrant for so doing,&rsquo; said my lord,
+    joking: for he knows the <i>natur</i> of us, Paddy, and how we love a
+    joke in our hearts, as well as if he had lived all his life in
+    Ireland; and by the same token will, for that <i>rason</i>, do what he
+    pleases with us, and more may be than a man twice as good, that
+    never would smile on us.
+
+    &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m telling you of my father. &lsquo;I&rsquo;ve a warrant for you,
+    father,&rsquo; says I; &lsquo;and must have you bodily before the justice, and
+    my lord chief justice.&rsquo; So he changed colour a bit at first; but
+    he saw me smile. &lsquo;And I&rsquo;ve done no sin,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;and, Larry, you
+    may lead me now, as you led me all my life.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;And up the slope he went with me as light as fifteen; and when we
+    got up, my Lord Clonbrony said, &lsquo;I am sorry an old tenant, and a
+    good old tenant, as I hear you were, should have been turned out
+    of your farm.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t fret, it&rsquo;s no great matter, my lord,&rsquo; said my father. &lsquo;I
+    shall be soon out of the way; but if you would be so kind to speak
+    a word for my boy here, and that I could afford, while the life is
+    in me, to bring my other boy back out of banishment.&rsquo;
+
+    &ldquo;&lsquo;Then,&rsquo; says my Lord Clonbrony, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll give you and your sons
+    three lives, or thirty-one years, from this day, of your former
+    farm. Return to it when you please. And,&rsquo; added my Lord Clonbrony,
+    &lsquo;the flaggers, I hope, will be soon banished.&rsquo; Oh, how could
+    I thank him&mdash;not a word could I proffer&mdash;but I know I clasped
+    my two hands, and prayed for him inwardly. And my father was
+    dropping down on his knees, but the master would not let him; and
+    <i>obsarved</i> that posture should only be for his God. And, sure
+    enough, in that posture, when he was out of sight, we did pray for
+    him that night, and will all our days.
+
+    &ldquo;But, before we quit his presence, he called me back, and bid me
+    write to my brother, and bring you back, if you&rsquo;ve no objections,
+    to your own country.
+
+    &ldquo;So come, my dear Pat, and make no delay, for joy&rsquo;s not joy
+    compl<i>a</i>te till you&rsquo;re in it&mdash;my father sends his blessing, and
+    Peggy her love. The family entirely is to settle for good in
+    Ireland, and there was in the castle yard last night a bonfire
+    made by my lord&rsquo;s orders of the <i>ould</i> yellow damask furniture, to
+    plase my lady, my lord says. And the drawing-room, the butler was
+    telling me, is new hung; and the chairs with velvet as white as
+    snow, and shaded over with natural flowers by Miss Nugent. Oh! how
+    I hope what I guess will come true, and I&rsquo;ve <i>rason</i> to believe it
+    will, for I dreamt in my bed last night it did. But keep yourself
+    to yourself&mdash;that Miss Nugent (who is no more Miss Nugent, they
+    say, but Miss Reynolds, and has a new-found grandfather, and is a
+    big heiress, which she did not want in my eyes, nor in my young
+    lord&rsquo;s), I&rsquo;ve a notion, will be sometime, and may be sooner
+    than is expected, my Lady Viscountess Colambre&mdash;so haste to the
+    wedding. And there&rsquo;s another thing: they say the rich <i>ould</i>
+    grandfather&rsquo;s coming over;&mdash;and another thing, Pat, you would not
+    be out of the fashion&mdash;and you see it&rsquo;s growing the fashion not to
+    be an Absentee.
+
+    &ldquo;Your loving brother,
+
+    &ldquo;LARRY BRADY.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <h3>
+      1812.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      MADAME DE FLEURY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
+  The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall.
+  How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?&rdquo;&mdash;POPE.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;D&rsquo;abord, madame, c&rsquo;est impossible!&mdash;Madame ne descendra pas ici?<a
+      href="#linknote-12" name="linknoteref-12" id="linknoteref-12"><small>12</small></a>&rdquo;
+       said François, the footman of Mad. de Fleury, with a half expostulatory,
+      half indignant look, as he let down the step of her carriage at the
+      entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the most miserable-looking
+      houses in Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this house?&rdquo; said
+      Mad. de Fleury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis only some child, who is crying,&rdquo; replied François: and he would have
+      put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&lsquo;Tis nothing in the world,&rdquo; continued he, with a look of appeal to the
+      coachman, &ldquo;it <i>can</i> be nothing, but some children, who are locked up
+      there above. The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at home,
+      that&rsquo;s certain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children,&rdquo; said
+      Mad. de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      François held his arm for his lady as she got out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bon!&rdquo; cried he, with an air of vexation. &ldquo;Si madame la veut absolument, à
+      la bonne heure!&mdash;Mais madame sera abimée. Madame verra que j&rsquo;ai
+      raison. Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier. D&rsquo;ailleurs c&rsquo;est an
+      cinquième. Mais, madame, c&rsquo;est impossible."<a href="#linknote-13"
+       name="linknoteref-13" id="linknoteref-13"><small>13</small></a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Notwithstanding the impossibility, Mad. de Fleury proceeded; and bidding
+      her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the dark, dirty,
+      broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every instant, till,
+      as she reached the fifth story, she heard the shrieks of one in violent
+      pain. She hastened to the door of the room from which the cries proceeded;
+      the door was fastened, and the noise was so great, that though she knocked
+      as loud as she was able, she could not immediately make herself heard. At
+      last the voice of a child from within answered, &ldquo;The door is locked&mdash;mamma
+      has the key in her pocket, and won&rsquo;t be home till night; and here&rsquo;s
+      Victoire has tumbled from the top of the big press, and it is she that is
+      shrieking so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so much
+      difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
+      despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from some
+      people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door of the
+      room in which the children were confined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly that he
+      did not hear the screams of the children. When his door was pushed open,
+      and the bright vision of Mad. de Fleury appeared to him, his astonishment
+      was so great that he seemed incapable of comprehending what she said. In a
+      strong provincial accent he repeated, &ldquo;<i>Plait-il?</i>&rdquo; and stood aghast
+      till she had explained herself three times: then suddenly exclaiming, &ldquo;Ah!
+      c&rsquo;est ça!&rdquo;&mdash;he collected his tools precipitately, and followed to
+      obey her orders. The door of the room was at last forced half open, for a
+      press that had been overturned prevented its opening entirely. The
+      horrible smells that issued did not overcome Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s humanity:
+      she squeezed her way into the room, and behind the fallen press saw three
+      little children: the youngest, almost an infant, ceased roaring, and ran
+      to a corner: the eldest, a boy of about eight years old, whose face and
+      clothes were covered with blood, held on his knee a girl younger than
+      himself, whom he was trying to pacify, but who struggled most violently,
+      and screamed incessantly, regardless of Mad. de Fleury, to whose questions
+      she made no answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you hurt, my dear?&rdquo; repeated Mad. de Fleury in a soothing
+      voice. &ldquo;Only tell me where you feel pain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy, showing his sister&rsquo;s arm, said, in a surly tone&mdash;&ldquo;It is this
+      that is hurt&mdash;but it was not I did it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was, it <i>was</i>,&rdquo; cried the girl as loud as she could vociferate:
+      &ldquo;it was Maurice threw me down from the top of the press.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you fell
+      backwards.&mdash;Have done screeching, and show your arm to the lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She won&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She <i>cannot</i>,&rdquo; said Mad. de Fleury, kneeling down to examine it.
+      &ldquo;She cannot move it: I am afraid that it is broken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t touch it! don&rsquo;t touch it!&rdquo; cried the girl, screaming more
+      violently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma&rsquo;am, she screams that way for nothing often,&rdquo; said the boy. &ldquo;Her arm is
+      no more broke than mine, I&rsquo;m sure; she&rsquo;ll move it well enough when she&rsquo;s
+      not cross.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; said Mad. de Fleury, &ldquo;that her arm is broken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it indeed?&rdquo; said the boy, with a look of terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! don&rsquo;t touch it&mdash;you&rsquo;ll kill me, you are killing me,&rdquo; screamed
+      the poor girl, whilst Mad. de Fleury with the greatest care endeavoured to
+      join the bones in their proper place, and resolved to hold the arm till
+      the arrival of the surgeon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have expected
+      such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and graceful
+      delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or affectation, which
+      incapacitates from being useful in real distress. In most sudden
+      accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female resolution and presence
+      of mind are indispensably requisite: safety, health, and life, often
+      depend upon the fortitude of women. Happy they, who, like Mad. de Fleury,
+      possess strength of mind united with the utmost gentleness of manner and
+      tenderness of disposition!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soothed by this lady&rsquo;s sweet voice, the child&rsquo;s rage subsided; and no
+      longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly on her lap, sometimes
+      writhing and moaning with pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The surgeon at length arrived: her arm was set: and he said, &ldquo;that she had
+      probably been saved much future pain by Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s presence of
+      mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sir,&mdash;will it soon be well?&rdquo; said Maurice to the surgeon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, very soon, I dare say,&rdquo; said the little girl. &ldquo;To-morrow,
+      perhaps; for now that it is tied up, it does not hurt me to signify&mdash;and
+      after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not you threw me down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.&mdash;&ldquo;That is
+      right,&rdquo; said Mad. de Fleury; &ldquo;there is a good sister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the boy
+      turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the back of his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not cross now: am I, Maurice?&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Victoire, I was cross myself when I said <i>that</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+      observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet. Mad. de
+      Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had cleared it of the
+      things with which it was covered; and as they were spreading the ragged
+      blanket over the little girl, she whispered a request to Mad. de Fleury,
+      that she would &ldquo;stay till her mamma came home, to beg Maurice off from
+      being whipped, if mamma should be angry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the desolate
+      condition of these children, Mad. de Fleury complied with Victoire&rsquo;s
+      request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother for leaving them
+      locked up in this manner. They did not know to what part of the town their
+      mother was gone; they could tell only, &ldquo;that she was to go to a great many
+      different places to carry back work, and to bring home more; and that she
+      expected to be in by five.&rdquo; It was now half after four.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Mad. de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full account
+      of the manner in which the accident had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged handkerchief
+      as he spoke, &ldquo;the first beginning of all the mischief was, we had nothing
+      to do; so we went to the ashes to make dirt pies: but Babet would go so
+      close that she burnt her petticoat, and threw about all our ashes, and
+      plagued us, and we whipped her: but all would not do, she would not be
+      quiet; so to get out of her reach, we climbed up by this chair on the
+      table to the top of the press, and there we were well enough for a little
+      while, till somehow we began to quarrel about the old scissors, and we
+      struggled hard for them till I got this cut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the wound,
+      which he had never mentioned before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and she
+      pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot slipped, and
+      down she fell; and caught by the press-door, and pulled it and me after
+      her, and that&rsquo;s all I know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is well that you were not both killed,&rdquo; said Mad. de Fleury. &ldquo;Are you
+      often left locked up in this manner by yourselves, and without any thing
+      to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, always, when mamma is abroad&mdash;except sometimes we are let out
+      upon the stairs, or in the street; but mamma says we get into mischief
+      there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother. She came up
+      stairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under her arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How now! Maurice, how comes my door open? What&rsquo;s all this?&rdquo; cried she, in
+      an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting upon her child&rsquo;s bed, she
+      stopped short in great astonishment. Mad. de Fleury related what had
+      happened, and averted her anger from Maurice, by gently expostulating upon
+      the hardship and hazard of leaving her young children in this manner
+      during so many hours of the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, my lady,&rdquo; replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead, &ldquo;every
+      hard-working woman in Paris does the same with her children; and what can
+      I do else? I must earn bread for these helpless ones, and to do that I
+      must be out backwards and forwards, and to the furthest parts of the town,
+      often from morning till night, with those that employ me; and I cannot
+      afford to send the children to school, or to keep any kind of a servant to
+      look after them; and when I&rsquo;m away, if I let them run about these stairs
+      and entries, or go into the streets, they do get a little exercise and air
+      to be sure, such as it is; on which account I do let them out sometimes;
+      but then a deal of mischief comes of that, too&mdash;they learn all kinds
+      of wickedness, and would grow up to be no better than pickpockets, if they
+      were let often to consort with the little vagabonds they find in the
+      streets. So what to do better for them I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire, and
+      wept bitterly. Mad. de Fleury was struck with compassion: but she did not
+      satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort, or by the easy donation
+      of some money&mdash;she resolved to do something more, and something
+      better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Come often, then; for haply in my bow&rsquo;r
+  Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may&rsquo;st gain:
+  If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain.&rdquo;
+
+  BEATTIE.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it may
+      imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere instinct of
+      pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils more pernicious to
+      society than any which they partially remedy. &ldquo;Warm Charity, the general
+      friend,&rdquo; may become the general enemy, unless she consults her head as
+      well as her heart. Whilst she pleases herself with the idea that she daily
+      feeds hundreds of the poor, she is perhaps preparing want and famine for
+      thousands. Whilst she delights herself with the anticipation of gratitude
+      for her bounties, she is often exciting only unreasonable expectations,
+      inducing habits of dependence, and submission to slavery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom they may
+      receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and numbers can afford.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition nor a large
+      fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real service, without the
+      constant exercise of her judgment. She had therefore listened with
+      deference to the conversation of well-informed men upon those subjects on
+      which ladies have not always the means or the wish to acquire extensive
+      and accurate knowledge. Though a Parisian belle, she had read with
+      attention some of those books which are generally thought too dry or too
+      deep for her sex. Consequently her benevolence was neither wild in theory,
+      nor precipitate nor ostentatious in practice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Touched with compassion for a little girl, whose arm had been accidentally
+      broken, and shocked by the discovery of the confinement and the dangers to
+      which numbers of children in Paris were doomed, she did not make a parade
+      of her sensibility. She did not talk of her feelings in fine sentences to
+      a circle of opulent admirers, nor did she project for the relief of the
+      little sufferers some magnificent establishment, which she could not
+      execute or superintend. She was contented with attempting only what she
+      had reasonable hopes of accomplishing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than the gift
+      of money to the poor; as it ensures the means both of future subsistence
+      and happiness. But the application even of this incontrovertible principle
+      requires caution and judgment. To crowd numbers of children into a place
+      called a school, to abandon them to the management of any person called a
+      schoolmaster or a schoolmistress, is not sufficient to secure the
+      blessings of a good education. Mad. de Fleury was sensible that the
+      greatest care is necessary in the choice of the person to whom young
+      children are to be intrusted: she knew that only a certain number can be
+      properly directed by one superintendent; and that by attempting to do too
+      much, she might do nothing, or worse than nothing. Her school was formed,
+      therefore, on a small scale, which she could enlarge to any extent, if it
+      should be found to succeed. From some of the families of poor people, who
+      in earning their bread are obliged to spend most of the day from home, she
+      selected twelve little girls, of whom Victoire was the eldest, and she was
+      between six and seven.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The person under whose care Mad. de Fleury wished to place these children
+      was a nun of the <i>Soeurs de la Charité</i>, with whose simplicity of
+      character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper, she was thoroughly
+      acquainted. Sister Frances was delighted with the plan. Any scheme that
+      promised to be of service to her fellow-creatures was sure of meeting with
+      her approbation; but this suited her taste peculiarly, because she was
+      extremely fond of children. No young person had ever boarded six months at
+      her convent without becoming attached to good Sister Frances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The period of which we are writing was some years before convents were
+      abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many instances been
+      considerably relaxed. Without much difficulty, permission was obtained
+      from the abbess for our nun to devote her time during the day to the care
+      of these poor children, upon condition that she should regularly return to
+      her convent every night before evening prayers. The house which Mad. de
+      Fleury chose for her little school was in an airy part of the town; it did
+      not face the street, but was separated from other buildings at the back of
+      a court, retired from noise and bustle. The two rooms intended for the
+      occupation of the children were neat and clean, but perfectly simple, with
+      whitewashed walls, furnished only with wooden stools and benches, and
+      plain deal tables. The kitchen was well lighted (for light is essential to
+      cleanliness), and it was provided with utensils; and for these appropriate
+      places were allotted, to give the habit and the taste of order. The
+      school-room opened into a garden larger than is usually seen in towns. The
+      nun, who had been accustomed to purchase provisions for her convent,
+      undertook to prepare daily for the children breakfast and dinner; they
+      were to sup and sleep at their respective homes. Their parents were to
+      take them to Sister Frances every morning, when they went out to work, and
+      to call for them upon their return home every evening. By this
+      arrangement, the natural ties of affection and intimacy between the
+      children and their parents would not be loosened; they would be separate
+      only at the time when their absence must be inevitable. Mad. de Fleury
+      thought that any education which estranges children entirely from their
+      parents must be fundamentally erroneous; that such a separation must tend
+      to destroy that sense of filial affection and duty, and those principles
+      of domestic subordination, on which so many of the interests, and much of
+      the virtue and happiness, of society depend. The parents of these poor
+      children were eager to trust them to her care, and they strenuously
+      endeavoured to promote what they perceived to be entirely to their
+      advantage. They promised to take their daughters to school punctually
+      every morning&mdash;a promise which was likely to be kept, as a good
+      breakfast was to be ready at a certain hour, and not to wait for any body.
+      The parents looked forward with pleasure also to the idea of calling for
+      their little girls at the end of their day&rsquo;s labour, and of taking them
+      home to their family supper. During the intermediate hours, the children
+      were constantly to be employed, or in exercise. It was difficult to
+      provide suitable employments for their early age; but even the youngest of
+      those admitted could be taught to wind balls of cotton, thread, and silk,
+      for haberdashers; or they could shell peas and beans, &amp;c. for a
+      neighbouring <i>traiteur</i>; or they could weed in a garden. The next in
+      age could learn knitting and plain-work, reading, writing, and arithmetic.
+      As the girls should grow up, they were to be made useful in the care of
+      the house. Sister Frances said she could teach them to wash and iron, and
+      that she would make them as skilful in cookery as she was herself. This
+      last was doubtless a rash promise; for in most of the mysteries of the
+      culinary art, especially in the medical branches of it, in making savoury
+      messes palatable to the sick, few could hope to equal the neat-handed
+      Sister Frances. She had a variety of other accomplishments; but her
+      humility and good sense forbade her, upon the present occasion, to mention
+      these. She said nothing of embroidery, or of painting, or of cutting out
+      paper, or of carving in ivory, though in all these she excelled: her
+      cuttings-out in paper were exquisite as the finest lace; her embroidered
+      housewives, and her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts, and her curiously
+      wrought ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest reputation in the
+      convent, amongst the best judges in the world. Those only who have
+      philosophically studied and thoroughly understand the nature of fame and
+      vanity can justly appreciate the self-denial, or magnanimity, of Sister
+      Frances, in forbearing to enumerate or boast of these things. She alluded
+      to them but once, and in the slightest and most humble manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching them any
+      thing but plain-work at present; but if hereafter any of them should show
+      a superior genius, we can cultivate it properly! Heaven has been pleased
+      to endow me with the means&mdash;at least our convent says so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her words; for
+      though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new dwelling with those
+      specimens of her skill, which had long been the glory of her apartment in
+      the convent, yet she resisted the impulse, and contented herself with
+      hanging over the chimney-piece of her school-room a Madonna of her own
+      painting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new
+      habitation. When the children entered the room for the first time, they
+      paid the Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration. Involuntarily
+      the little crowd stopped short at the sight of the picture. Some dormant
+      emotions of human vanity were now awakened&mdash;played for a moment about
+      the heart of Sister Frances&mdash;and may be forgiven. Her vanity was
+      innocent and transient, her benevolence permanent and useful. Repressing
+      the vain-glory of an artist, as she fixed her eyes upon the Madonna, her
+      thoughts rose to higher objects, and she seized this happy moment to
+      impress upon the minds of her young pupils their first religious ideas and
+      feelings. There was such unaffected piety in her manner, such goodness in
+      her countenance, such persuasion in her voice, and simplicity in her
+      words, that the impression she made was at once serious, pleasing, and not
+      to be effaced. Much depends upon the moment and the manner in which the
+      first notions of religion are communicated to children: if these ideas be
+      connected with terror, and produced when the mind is sullen or in a state
+      of dejection, the future religious feelings are sometimes of a gloomy,
+      dispiriting sort; but if the first impression be made when the heart is
+      expanded by hope or touched by affection, these emotions are happily and
+      permanently associated with religion. This should be particularly attended
+      to by those who undertake the instruction of the children of the poor, who
+      must lead a life of labour, and can seldom have leisure or inclination
+      when arrived at years of discretion, to re-examine the principles early
+      infused into their minds. They cannot in their riper age conquer by reason
+      those superstitious terrors, or bigoted prejudices, which render their
+      victims miserable or perhaps criminal. To attempt to rectify any errors in
+      the foundation after an edifice has been constructed, is dangerous: the
+      foundation, therefore, should be laid with care. The religious opinions of
+      Sister Frances were strictly united with just rules of morality, strongly
+      enforcing, as the essential means of obtaining present and future
+      happiness, the practice of the social virtues; so that no good or wise
+      persons, however they might differ from her in modes of faith, could doubt
+      the beneficial influence of her general principles, or disapprove of the
+      manner in which they were inculcated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun devoted
+      all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had undertaken the
+      charge. She watched over them with unceasing vigilance, whilst diffidence
+      of her own abilities was happily supported by her high opinion of Mad. de
+      Fleury&rsquo;s judgment. This lady constantly visited her pupils every week; not
+      in the hasty, negligent manner in which fine ladies sometimes visit
+      charitable institutions, imagining that the honour of their presence is to
+      work miracles, and that every thing will go on rightly when they have
+      said, &ldquo;<i>Let it be so</i>,&rdquo; or, &ldquo;<i>I must have it so</i>.&rdquo; Mad. de
+      Fleury&rsquo;s visits were not of this dictatorial or cursory nature. Not
+      minutes, but hours, she devoted to these children&mdash;she who could
+      charm by the grace of her manners, and delight by the elegance of her
+      conversation, the most polished circles<a href="#linknote-14"
+       name="linknoteref-14" id="linknoteref-14"><small>14</small></a> and the
+      best-informed societies of Paris, preferred to the glory of being admired
+      the pleasure of being useful&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Her life, as lovely as her face,
+  Each duty mark&rsquo;d with every grace;
+  Her native sense improved by reading,
+  Her native sweetness by good-breeding.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
+  But if that pride it be, which thus inspires,
+  Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
+  Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires.&rdquo;
+
+  SHENSTONE.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute <i>reports</i> of
+      Sister Frances, Mad. de Fleury soon became acquainted with the habits and
+      temper of each individual in this little society. The most intelligent and
+      the most amiable of these children was Victoire. Whence her superiority
+      arose, whether her abilities were naturally more vivacious than those of
+      her companions, or whether they had been more early developed by
+      accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to determine, lest we should
+      involve ourselves in the intricate question respecting natural genius&mdash;a
+      metaphysical point, which we shall not in this place stop to discuss. Till
+      the world has an accurate philosophical dictionary (a work not to be
+      expected in less than half a dozen centuries), this question will never be
+      decided to general satisfaction. In the mean time, we may proceed with our
+      story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Deep was the impression made on Victoire&rsquo;s heart by the kindness that Mad.
+      de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and her gratitude was
+      expressed with all the enthusiastic <i>fondness</i> of childhood. Whenever
+      she spoke or heard of Mad. de Fleury, her countenance became interested,
+      and animated, in a degree that would have astonished a cool English
+      spectator. Every morning her first question to Sister Frances was&mdash;&ldquo;Will
+      <i>she</i> come to-day?&rdquo;&mdash;If Mad. de Fleury was expected, the hours
+      and the minutes were counted, and the sand in the hourglass that stood on
+      the school-room table was frequently shaken. The moment she appeared,
+      Victoire ran to her, and was silent; satisfied with standing close beside
+      her, holding her gown when unperceived, and watching, as she spoke and
+      moved, every turn of her countenance. Delighted by these marks of
+      sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised the child, but was warned
+      by Mad. de Fleury to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lest she should
+      teach her affectation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her,&rdquo; said
+      Sister Frances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two months
+      the poor child&rsquo;s arm hung in a sling, so that she could not venture to
+      play with her companions. At their hours of recreation, she used to sit on
+      the school-room steps, looking down into the garden at the scene of
+      merriment, in which she could not partake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For those who know how to find it, there is good in every thing. Sister
+      Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her work, and
+      sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite idle, listened
+      with eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances read, or watched with
+      interest the progress of her work: soon she longed to imitate what she saw
+      done with so much pleasure, and begged to be taught to work and read. By
+      degrees she learned her alphabet; and could soon, to the amazement of her
+      schoolfellows, read the names of all the animals in Sister Frances&rsquo; <i>picture-book</i>.
+      No matter how trifling the thing done, or the knowledge acquired, a great
+      point is gained by giving the desire for employment. Children frequently
+      become industrious from impatience of the pains and penalties of idleness.
+      Count Rumford showed that he understood childish nature perfectly well,
+      when, in his House of Industry at Munich, he compelled the young children
+      to sit for some time idle in a gallery round the hall, where others a
+      little older than themselves were busied at work. During Victoire&rsquo;s state
+      of idle convalescence, she acquired the desire to be employed, and she
+      consequently soon became more industrious than her neighbours. Succeeding
+      in her first efforts, she was praised&mdash;was pleased, and persevered
+      till she became an example of activity to her companions. But Victoire,
+      though now nearly seven years old, was not quite perfect. Naturally, or
+      accidentally, she was very passionate, and not a little self-willed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the banister
+      of the flight of stairs leading from the school-room to the garden, she
+      called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring them to stand out
+      of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom. At this moment Sister
+      Frances came to the school-room door, and forbade the feat: but Victoire,
+      regardless of all prohibition, slid down instantly, and moreover was going
+      to repeat the glorious operation, when Sister Frances, catching hold of
+      her arm, pointed to a heap of sharp stones that lay on the ground upon the
+      other side of the banisters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not afraid,&rdquo; said Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you fall there, you may break your arm again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if I do I can bear it,&rdquo; said Victoire. &ldquo;Let me go, pray let me go: I
+      must do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again!&mdash;Babet, and all the
+      little ones, would follow your example, and perhaps break their necks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount: but she
+      was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon compulsion.
+      Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her might; she
+      kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked; but at last her feet were
+      taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one hand, with the other
+      she brandished high the little whip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; said the mild nun, &ldquo;would you strike me with that <i>arm</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The arm dropped instantly&mdash;Victoire recollected Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s
+      kindness the day when the arm was broken: dismounting immediately, she
+      threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young
+      spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances. For the rest of the day
+      she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of her
+      contrition were visible during the remainder of the week.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience by
+      touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse to
+      this expedient in all perilous cases: but one day, when she was boasting
+      of the infallible operation of her charm, Mad. de Fleury advised her to
+      forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should wear out the
+      sensibility she so much loved. In consequence of this counsel, Victoire&rsquo;s
+      violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force, and sometimes corrected
+      by reason; but the principle and the feeling of gratitude were not
+      exhausted or weakened in the struggle. The hope of reward operated upon
+      her generous mind more powerfully than the fear of punishment; and Mad. de
+      Fleury devised rewards with as much ability as some legislators invent
+      punishments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Victoire&rsquo;s brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own bread,
+      had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who worked in the
+      house where his mother lodged. This most ardent wish of his soul he had
+      imparted to his sister: and she consulted her benefactress, whom she
+      considered as all-powerful in this, as in every other affair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother&rsquo;s wish shall be gratified,&rdquo; replied Mad. de Fleury, &ldquo;if you
+      can keep your temper one month. If you are never in a passion for a whole
+      month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound apprentice to his
+      friend the smith. To your companions, to Sister Frances, and above all to
+      yourself, I trust, to make me a just report this day month.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;You she preferr&rsquo;d to all the gay resorts,
+  Where female vanity might wish to shine,
+  The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts.&rdquo;
+
+  LYTTELTON.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire herself,
+      who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly deserved her
+      reward. Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire&rsquo;s temper never relapsed
+      into its former bad habits&mdash;so powerful is the effect of a
+      well-chosen motive!&mdash;Perhaps the historian may be blamed for dwelling
+      on such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to the
+      conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened without
+      disdain to these simple annals. Nothing appeared to her a trifle that
+      could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty, order, and
+      industry;&mdash;habits which are to be early induced, not by solemn
+      precepts, but by practical lessons. A few more examples of these shall be
+      recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was coming
+      to school, an old woman, sitting at a corner of the street, beside a large
+      black brazier full of roasted chestnuts. Babet thought that the chestnuts
+      looked and smelled very good; the old woman was talking earnestly to some
+      people, who were on her other side; Babet filled her work-bag with
+      chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and sister, who, having turned
+      the corner of the street, had not seen what passed. When Babet came to the
+      school-room, she opened her bag with triumph, displayed her treasure, and
+      offered to divide it with her companions. &ldquo;Here, Victoire,&rdquo; said she,
+      &ldquo;here is the largest chestnut for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Victoire would not take it; for she said that Babet had no money, and
+      that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts. She spoke so
+      forcibly upon this point, that even those who had the tempting morsel
+      actually at their lips, forbore to bite; those who had bitten laid down
+      their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands full of chestnuts,
+      rolled them, back again towards the bag, Babet cried with vexation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won&rsquo;t eat them!&mdash;And
+      I must not eat them!&rdquo; said she: then curbing her passion, she added, &ldquo;But
+      at any rate, I won&rsquo;t be a thief. I am sure I did not think it was being a
+      thief just to take a few chestnuts from an old woman, who had such heaps
+      and heaps: but Victoire says it is wrong, and I would not be a thief for
+      all the chestnuts in the world&mdash;I&rsquo;ll throw them all into the fire
+      this minute!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; give them back again to the old woman,&rdquo; said Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them,&rdquo; said Babet; &ldquo;or
+      who knows but she might whip me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if she did, could not you bear it?&rdquo; said Victoire: &ldquo;I am sure I would
+      rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty whippings! that&rsquo;s a great many,&rdquo; said Babet; &ldquo;and I am so little,
+      consider&mdash;and that woman has such a monstrous arm!&mdash;Now, if it
+      was Sister Frances, it would be another thing. But come! if you will go
+      with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will all go with you,&rdquo; said Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, all!&rdquo; said the children; &ldquo;and Sister Frances, I dare say, would go,
+      if you asked her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the little
+      penitent to make restitution. The chestnut woman did not whip Babet, nor
+      even scold her; but said she was sure, that since the child was so honest
+      as to return what she had taken, she would never steal again. This was the
+      most <i>glorious</i> day of Babet&rsquo;s life, and the happiest. When the
+      circumstance was told to Mad. de Fleury, she gave the little girl a bag of
+      the best chestnuts the old woman could select, and Babet with great
+      delight shared her reward with her companions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted. Oh, if we could but roast
+      them!&rdquo; said the children.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table, on which the chestnuts
+      were spread, a small earthenware furnace&mdash;a delightful toy, commonly
+      used by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This can be bought for sixpence,&rdquo; said she: &ldquo;and if each of you twelve
+      earn one halfpenny a-piece to-day, you can purchase it to-night, and I
+      will put a little fire into it, and you will then he able to roast your
+      chestnuts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The children ran eagerly to their work&mdash;some to wind worsted for a
+      woman who paid them a <i>liard</i> for each ball, others to shell peas for
+      a neighbouring <i>traiteur</i>&mdash;all rejoicing that they were able to
+      earn <i>something</i>. The elder girls, under the directions and with the
+      assistance of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and ironing, half
+      a dozen little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse. At the end of the
+      day, when the sum of the produce of their labours was added together, they
+      were surprised to find, that, instead of one, they could purchase two
+      furnaces. They received and enjoyed the reward of their united industry.
+      The success of their first efforts was fixed in their memory: for they
+      were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and they were all (Sister Frances
+      inclusive) unanimous in opinion that no chestnuts ever were so good, or so
+      well roasted. Sister Frances always partook in their little innocent
+      amusements; and it was her great delight to be the dispenser of rewards,
+      which at once conferred present pleasure, and cherished future virtue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
+  And bid the tear of emulation start.&rdquo;&mdash;ROGERS.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of the
+      amiable nun, became every day more dear to her. Far from having the
+      selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public notice the
+      good actions of her companions. &ldquo;Stoop down your ear to me, Sister
+      Frances,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and I will tell you a secret&mdash;I will tell you
+      why my friend Annette is growing so thin&mdash;I found it out this morning&mdash;she
+      does not eat above half her soup everyday. Look, there&rsquo;s her porringer
+      covered up in the corner&mdash;she carries it home to her mother, who is
+      sick, and who has not bread to eat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury came in, whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down to hear
+      this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered that a
+      certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day to carry
+      to her mother during her illness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am sure it
+      will never be forgotten. Here is an order for you upon my baker: run and
+      show it to Annette. This is a pleasure you deserve; I am glad that you
+      have chosen for your friend a girl who is so good a daughter. Good
+      daughters make good friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love and confidence
+      of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest superiority. In their
+      turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits; and, as Sister Frances and
+      Mad. de Fleury administered justice with invariable impartiality, the
+      hateful passions of envy and jealousy were never excited in this little
+      society. No servile sycophant, no malicious detractor, could rob or
+      defraud their little virtues of their due reward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whom shall I trust to take this to Mad. de Fleury?&rdquo; said Sister Frances,
+      carrying into the garden where the children were playing a pot of fine
+      jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.&mdash;&ldquo;These are the
+      first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never beheld! Whom shall
+      I trust to take them to Mad. de Fleury this evening?&mdash;It must be some
+      one who will not stop to stare about on the way, but who will be very,
+      very careful&mdash;some one in whom I can place perfect dependence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be Victoire, then,&rdquo; cried every voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly,&rdquo; said Annette, eagerly;
+      &ldquo;because she was not angry with Babet, when she did what was enough to put
+      any body in a passion. Sister Frances, you know this cherry-tree which you
+      grafted for Victoire last year, and that was yesterday so full of blossoms&mdash;now
+      you see, there is not a blossom left!&mdash;Babet plucked them all this
+      morning to make a nosegay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she did not know,&rdquo; said Victoire, &ldquo;that pulling off the blossoms
+      would prevent my having any cherries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish,&rdquo; said Babet; &ldquo;Victoire did not even
+      say a cross word to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries,&rdquo; pursued Annette,
+      &ldquo;because she intended to have given the first she had to Mad. de Fleury.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victoire, take the jonquils&mdash;it is but just,&rdquo; said Sister Frances.
+      &ldquo;How I do love to hear them all praise her!&mdash;I knew what she would be
+      from the first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry them
+      with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way. She set out to
+      Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s hotel, which was in <i>La Place de Louis Quinze</i>. It
+      was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting, and as Victoire crossed
+      the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to look at the reflection of the
+      lamps in the water, which appeared in succession, as they were lighted,
+      spreading as if by magic along the river. While Victoire leaned over the
+      battlements of the bridge, watching the rising of these stars of fire, a
+      sudden push from the elbow of some rude passenger precipitated her pot of
+      jonquils into the Seine. The sound it made in the water was thunder to the
+      ear of Victoire; she stood for an instant vainly hoping it would rise
+      again, but the waters had closed over it for ever.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Dans cet êtat affreux, que faire?
+  Mon devoir.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Victoire courageously proceeded to Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s, and desired to see
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;D&rsquo;abord c&rsquo;est impossible&mdash;madame is dressing to go to a concert;&rdquo;
+       said François. &ldquo;Cannot you leave your message?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; said Victoire; &ldquo;it is of great consequence&mdash;I must see <i>her</i>
+      myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur François, that I am sure
+      you will not refuse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which I dropped
+      at your school-room door&mdash;one good turn deserves another. If it is
+      possible, it shall be done&mdash;I will inquire of madame&rsquo;s woman.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Follow
+      me up stairs,&rdquo; said he, returning in a few minutes; &ldquo;madame will see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She followed him up the large staircase, and through a suite of apartments
+      sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame est dans son cabinet. Entrez&mdash;mais entrez done, entrez
+      toujours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image was
+      reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment Victoire
+      thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the lady she wanted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it is her voice!&mdash;I know you now, madame, and I am not afraid&mdash;not
+      afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been. Sister Frances trusted me
+      to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of jonquils, and she desired me
+      not to stop on the way to stare; but I did stop to look at the lamps on
+      the bridge, and I forgot the jonquils, and somebody brushed by me, and
+      threw them into the river&mdash;and I am very sorry I was so foolish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth, without
+      attempting to make any paltry excuses. Go home to Sister Frances, and
+      assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you such an honest
+      girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Victoire&rsquo;s heart was so full that she could not speak&mdash;she kissed
+      Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in
+      contemplation of her bracelet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier, if you had
+      such bracelets as these?&mdash;Believe me, you are mistaken if you think
+      so; many people are unhappy, who wear fine bracelets; so, my child,
+      content yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Myself! Oh, madam, I was not thinking of myself&mdash;I was not wishing
+      for bracelets, I was only thinking that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have every thing in this
+      world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to <i>you</i>&mdash;all
+      my life I shall never be able to do <i>you</i> any good&mdash;and what,&rdquo;
+       said Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, &ldquo;what signifies the
+      gratitude of such a poor little creature as I am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, madam&mdash;never!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will tell it to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation&mdash;François opened
+      the door to announce that the Marquis de M&mdash;&mdash; and the Comte de
+      S&mdash;&mdash; were in the saloon; but Mad. de Fleury stayed to tell
+      Victoire her fable&mdash;she would not lose the opportunity of making an
+      impression upon this child&rsquo;s heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be made.
+      Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and the fate of a
+      child. In this respect what advantages have the rich and great in
+      educating the children of the poor! they have the power which their rank,
+      and all its decorations, obtain over the imagination. Their smiles are
+      favours; their words are listened to as oracular; they are looked up to as
+      beings of a superior order. Their powers of working good are almost as
+      great, though not quite so wonderful, as those formerly attributed to
+      beneficent fairies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Knowledge for them unlocks her <i>useful</i> page,
+  And virtue blossoms for a better age.&rdquo;&mdash;BARBAULD.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      A few days after Mad. de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of the lion
+      and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire had put
+      the fable into verse. It was wonderfully well done for a child of nine
+      years old, and Mad. de Fleury was tempted to praise the lines; but,
+      checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered whether it would be
+      advantageous to cultivate her pupil&rsquo;s talent for poetry. Excellence in the
+      poetic art cannot be obtained without a degree of application for which a
+      girl in her situation could not have leisure. To encourage her to become a
+      mere rhyming scribbler, without any chance of obtaining celebrity or
+      securing subsistence, would be folly and cruelty. Early prodigies, in the
+      lower ranks of life, are seldom permanently successful; they are cried up
+      one day, and cried down the next. Their productions rarely have that
+      superiority which secures a fair preference in the great literary market.
+      Their performances are, perhaps, said to be&mdash;<i>wonderful, all things
+      considered</i>, &amp;c. Charitable allowances are made; the books are
+      purchased by associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons; a
+      kind of forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and
+      delusive. In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection, nothing
+      but what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when it must be
+      purchased. But granting that positive excellence is attained, there is
+      always danger that for works of fancy the taste of the public may suddenly
+      vary; there is a fashion in these things; and when the mode changes, the
+      mere literary manufacturer is thrown out of employment; he is unable to
+      turn his hand to another trade, or to any but his own peculiar branch of
+      the business. The powers of the mind are often partially cultivated in
+      these self-taught geniuses. We often see that one part of their
+      understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the rest&mdash;the
+      imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment: so that, whilst
+      they have acquired talents for show, they have none for use. In the
+      affairs of common life, they are utterly ignorant and imbecile&mdash;or
+      worse than imbecile. Early called into public notice, probably before
+      their moral habits are formed, they are extolled for some play of fancy or
+      of wit, as Bacon calls it, some <i>juggler&rsquo;s trick of the intellect</i>;
+      they immediately take an aversion to plodding labour, they feel raised
+      above their situation; <i>possessed</i> by the notion that genius exempts
+      them, not only from labour, but from vulgar rules of prudence, they soon
+      disgrace themselves by their conduct, are deserted by their patrons, and
+      sink into despair, or plunge into profligacy.<a href="#linknote-15"
+       name="linknoteref-15" id="linknoteref-15"><small>15</small></a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Convinced of these melancholy truths, Mad. de Fleury was determined not to
+      add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons, who
+      sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness of their
+      favourites. Victoire&rsquo;s verses were not handed about in fashionable
+      circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before a brilliant
+      audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she was educated in
+      private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good, useful, and happy
+      member of society. Upon the same principles which decided Mad. de Fleury
+      against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess, she refrained from giving
+      any of her little pupils accomplishments unsuited to their situation. Some
+      had a fine ear for music, others showed powers of dancing; but they were
+      taught neither dancing nor music&mdash;talents which in their station were
+      more likely to be dangerous than serviceable. They were not intended for
+      actresses or opera-girls, but for shop-girls, mantua-makers, work-women,
+      and servants of different sorts; consequently they were instructed in
+      things which would be most necessary and useful to young women in their
+      rank of life. Before they were ten years old, they could do all kinds of
+      plain needlework, they could read and write well, and they were mistresses
+      of the common rules of arithmetic. After this age, they were practised by
+      a writing-master in drawing out bills neatly, keeping accounts, and
+      applying to every-day use their knowledge of arithmetic. Some were taught
+      by a laundress to wash, and <i>get up</i> fine linen and lace; others were
+      instructed by a neighbouring <i>traiteur</i> in those culinary mysteries
+      with which Sister Frances was unacquainted. In sweetmeats and
+      confectionaries she yielded to no one; and she made her pupils as expert
+      as herself. Those who were intended for ladies&rsquo; maids were taught
+      mantua-making, and had lessons from Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s own woman in
+      hair-dressing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
+      shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Mad. de Fleury had
+      means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably and advantageously:
+      of this both they and their parents were aware, so that there was a
+      constant and great motive operating continually to induce them to exert
+      themselves, and to behave well. This reasonable hope of reaping the fruits
+      of their education, and of being immediately rewarded for their good
+      conduct; this perception of the connexion between what they are taught and
+      what they are to become, is necessary to make young people assiduous: for
+      want of attending to these principles, many splendid establishments have
+      failed to produce pupils answerable to the expectations which had been
+      formed of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During seven years that Mad. de Fleury persevered uniformly on the same
+      plan, only one girl forfeited her protection&mdash;a girl of the name of
+      Manon; she was Victoire&rsquo;s cousin, but totally unlike her in character.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a rich
+      lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow for her
+      children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon excelled in these
+      accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a prodigy of talent. The
+      lady of the house gave herself great credit for having discerned, and
+      having <i>brought forward</i>, such talents. Manon&rsquo;s moral character was
+      in the mean time neglected. In this house, where there was a constant
+      scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent opportunities and
+      temptations to be dishonest. For some time she was not detected; her
+      caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile compliance with the
+      humours of the children of the family secured their good-will. Encouraged
+      by daily petty successes in the art of deceit, she became a complete
+      hypocrite. With culpable negligence, her mistress trusted implicitly to
+      appearances; and without examining whether she were really honest, she
+      suffered her to have free access to unlocked drawers and valuable
+      cabinets. Several articles of dress were missed from time to time; but
+      Manon managed so artfully, that she averted from herself all suspicion.
+      Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted depredations of
+      more importance. She purloined a valuable snuff-box&mdash;was detected in
+      disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker&rsquo;s, and was immediately
+      discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement expressions of
+      remorse, she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of the house, as
+      to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance that occasioned her
+      dismissal. Some months afterwards Manon, pleading that she was thoroughly
+      reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s
+      school. It is wonderful that people, who in other respects profess and
+      practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as to give good characters to
+      those who do not deserve them: this is really one of the worst species of
+      forgery. Imposed upon by this treacherous recommendation, Mad. de Fleury
+      received into the midst of her innocent young pupils one who might have
+      corrupted their minds secretly and irrecoverably. Fortunately a discovery
+      was made in time of Manon&rsquo;s real disposition. A mere trifle led to the
+      detection of her habits of falsehood. As she could not do any kind of
+      needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was negligent, and did
+      not in the course of the week wind the same number of balls as her
+      companions; and to conceal this, she pretended that she had delivered the
+      proper number to the woman, who regularly called at the end of the week
+      for the cotton. The woman persisted in her account; the children in
+      theirs; and Manon would not retract her assertion. The poor woman gave up
+      the point; but she declared that she would the next time send her brother
+      to make up the account, because he was <i>sharper</i> than herself, and
+      would not be imposed upon so easily. The ensuing week the brother came,
+      and he proved to be the very pawnbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the
+      stolen box: he knew her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to
+      puzzle him, and to persuade him that she was not the same person. The man
+      was clear and firm. Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard.
+      Struck with horror, the children shrunk back from Manon, and stood in
+      silence. Mad. de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended
+      this girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker&rsquo;s assertions. The
+      lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not deny the facts, and
+      could apologize for herself only by saying, that &ldquo;she believed the girl to
+      be partly reformed, and that she hoped, under Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s judicious
+      care, she would become an amiable and respectable woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury, however, wisely judged, that the hazard of corrupting all
+      her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of correcting one,
+      whose had habits were of such long standing. Manon was expelled from this
+      happy little community&mdash;even Sister Frances, the most mild of human
+      beings, could never think of the danger to which they had been exposed
+      without expressing indignation against the lady who recommended such a
+      girl as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved pupils.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Alas! regardless of their doom,
+  The little victims play:
+  No sense have they of ills to come,
+  No care beyond to-day.&rdquo;&mdash;GRAY.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the
+      genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age, the taste
+      for whatever is called <i>une fête</i> pervades the whole French nation.
+      Mad. de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful motive, and
+      connected it with the feelings of affection more than with the passion for
+      show. For instance, when any of her little people had done any thing
+      particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to invite their parents
+      to a <i>fête</i> prepared for them by their children, assisted by the
+      kindness of Sister Frances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day&mdash;it was a holiday obtained by Victoire&rsquo;s good conduct&mdash;all
+      the children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.
+      Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy fathers
+      and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in their turn
+      heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance of their
+      daughter&rsquo;s improvement. Full of hope for the future, and of gratitude for
+      the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst in imagination they
+      saw their children all prosperously and usefully settled in the world.
+      They blessed Mad. de Fleury in her absence, and they wished ardently for
+      her presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sun is setting, and Mad. de Fleury is not yet come,&rdquo; cried Victoire;
+      &ldquo;she said she would be here this evening&mdash;What can be the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing is the matter, you may be sure,&rdquo; said Babet; &ldquo;but that she has
+      forgotten us&mdash;she has so many things to think of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but I know she never forgets us,&rdquo; said Victoire; &ldquo;and she loves so
+      much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be something
+      very extraordinary that detains her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Babet laughed at Victoire&rsquo;s fears: but presently even she began to grow
+      impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every moment that
+      Mad. de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared, but with a dejected
+      countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire&rsquo;s foreboding. When she saw
+      this festive company, each child sitting between her parents, and all at
+      her entrance looking up with affectionate pleasure, a faint smile
+      enlivened her countenance for a moment; but she did not speak to them with
+      her usual ease. Her mind seemed pre-occupied by some disagreeable business
+      of importance. It appeared that it had some connexion with them; for as
+      she walked round the table with Sister Frances, she said with a voice and
+      look of great tenderness, &ldquo;Poor children! how happy they are at this
+      moment!&mdash;Heaven only knows how soon they may be rendered, or may
+      render themselves, miserable!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
+      guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs. About
+      this time some of those discontents had broken out, which preceded the
+      terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the common people, who
+      were honestly employed in earning their own living, neither understood
+      what was going on, nor foresaw what was to happen. Many of their superiors
+      were not in such happy ignorance&mdash;they had information of the
+      intrigues that were forming; and the more penetration they possessed, the
+      more they feared the consequences of events which they could not control.
+      At the house of a great man, with whom she had dined this day, Mad. de
+      Fleury had heard alarming news. Dreadful public disturbances, she saw,
+      were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for the fate of all who were dear
+      to her, these poor children had a share in her anxiety. She foresaw the
+      temptations, the dangers, to which they must be exposed, whether they
+      abandoned, or whether they abided by, the principles their education had
+      instilled. She feared that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in an
+      instant, or that her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their
+      virtues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to govern
+      themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use those
+      preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with politics,
+      in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere, the influence
+      of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be exerted with perfect
+      propriety, and with essential advantage to the public, in conciliating the
+      inferior classes of society, explaining to them their duties and their
+      interests, and impressing upon the minds of the children of the poor,
+      sentiments of just subordination and honest independence. How happy would
+      it have been for France, if women of fortune and abilities had always
+      exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead of wasting
+      their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues of party!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;E&rsquo;en now the devastation is begun,
+  And half the business of destruction done.&rdquo;
+
+  GOLDSMITH.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils. When the public
+      disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible actions
+      they saw. Instead of being seduced by bad example, they only showed
+      anxiety to avoid companions of their own age, who were dishonest, idle, or
+      profligate. Victoire&rsquo;s cousin Manon ridiculed these <i>absurd</i>
+      principles, as she called them; and endeavoured to persuade Victoire that
+      she would be much happier if she <i>followed the fashion</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still going to
+      school with your little sister, though you are but a year younger than I
+      am, I believe!&mdash;thirteen last birthday, were not you?&mdash;Mon Dieu!
+      Why, how long do you intend to be a child? and why don&rsquo;t you leave that
+      old nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?&mdash;I assure you, nuns, and
+      schoolmistresses, and schools, and all that sort of thing, are out of
+      fashion now&mdash;we have abolished all that&mdash;we are to live a life
+      of reason now&mdash;and all soon to be equal, I can tell you; let your
+      Mad. de Fleury look to that, and look to it yourself; for with all your
+      wisdom, you might find yourself in the wrong box by sticking to her, and
+      that side of the question.&mdash;Disengage yourself from her, I advise
+      you, as soon as you can.&mdash;My dear Victoire! believe me, you may spell
+      very well&mdash;but you know nothing of the rights of man, or the rights
+      of woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not pretend to know any thing of the rights of men, or the rights of
+      women,&rdquo; cried Victoire; &ldquo;but this I know, that I never can or will be
+      ungrateful to Mad. de Fleury. Disengage myself from her! I am bound to her
+      for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I breathe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion&mdash;I only speak as
+      a friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go home,
+      and get ready my dress for the ball to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire&mdash;only by being a <i>good
+      citizen</i>. I and a party of us <i>denounced</i> a milliner and a
+      confectioner in our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and of
+      their goods forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share, such
+      delicious <i>marangles</i>, and charming ribands!&mdash;Oh, Victoire,
+      believe me, you will never get such things by going to school, or saying
+      your prayers either. You may look with as much scorn and indignation as
+      you please, but I advise you to let it alone, for all that is out of
+      fashion, and may moreover bring you into difficulties. Believe me, my dear
+      Victoire, your head is not deep enough to understand these things&mdash;you
+      know nothing of politics.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics can
+      never alter that, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never alter that!&mdash;there you are quite mistaken,&rdquo; said Manon: &ldquo;I
+      cannot stay to convince you now&mdash;but this I can tell you, that I know
+      secrets that you don&rsquo;t suspect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon,&rdquo; said Victoire,
+      proudly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you expect,&rdquo;
+       exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin&rsquo;s contempt, that
+      she could not refrain from boasting of her political knowledge. &ldquo;I can
+      tell you, that your fine friends will in a few days not be able to protect
+      you. The Abbé Tracassier is in love with a dear friend of mine, and I know
+      all the secrets of state from her&mdash;and I know what I know. Be as
+      incredulous, as you please, but you will see that, before this week is at
+      end, Monsieur de Fleury will be guillotined, and then what will become of
+      you? Good morning, my proud cousin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe that
+      Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately and
+      communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Mad. de Fleury.
+      It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which alarmed this lady
+      for the safety of her husband. A man of his abilities, integrity, and
+      fortune, could not in such times hope to escape persecution. He was
+      inclined to brave the danger; but his lady represented that it would not
+      be courage, but rashness and folly, to sacrifice his life to the villany
+      of others, without probability or possibility of serving his country by
+      his fall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      M. de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of Victoire&rsquo;s
+      intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very next day <i>placards</i>
+      were put up in every street, offering a price for the head of Citoyen
+      Fleury, <i>suspected of incivisme</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these <i>placards</i>,
+      the children read them as they returned in the evening from school; and
+      little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a lamplighter&rsquo;s
+      ladder, and tore down one of the papers. This imprudent action did not
+      pass unobserved: it was seen by one of the spies of Citoyen Tracassier, a
+      man who, under the pretence of zeal <i>pour la chose publique</i>,
+      gratified without scruple his private resentments and his malevolent
+      passions. In his former character of an abbé, and a man of wit, he had
+      gained admittance into Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s society. There he attempted to
+      dictate both as a literary and religious despot. Accidentally discovering
+      that Mad. de Fleury had a little school for poor children, he thought
+      proper to be offended, because he had not been consulted respecting the
+      regulations, and because he was not permitted, as he said, to take the
+      charge of this little flock. He made many objections to Sister Frances, as
+      being an improper person to have the spiritual guidance of these young
+      people: but as he was unable to give any just reason for his dislike, Mad.
+      de Fleury persisted in her choice, and was at last obliged to assert, in
+      opposition to the domineering abbé, her right to judge and decide in her
+      own affairs. With seeming politeness, he begged ten thousand pardons for
+      his conscientious interference. No more was said upon the subject; and as
+      he did not totally withdraw from her society till the revolution broke
+      out, she did not suspect that she had any thing to fear from his
+      resentment. His manners and opinions changed suddenly with the times; the
+      mask of religion was thrown off; and now, instead of objecting to Sister
+      Frances as not being sufficiently strict and orthodox in her tenets, he
+      boldly declared, that a nun was not a fit person to be intrusted with the
+      education of any of the young citizens&mdash;they should all be <i>des
+      élèves de la patrie</i>. The abbé, become a member of the Committee of
+      Public Safety, denounced Mad. de Fleury, in the strange jargon of the day,
+      as &ldquo;<i>the fosterer of a swarm of bad citizens, who were nourished in the
+      anticivic prejudices</i> de l&rsquo;ancien régime, <i>and fostered in the most
+      detestable superstitions, in defiance of the law</i>.&rdquo; He further
+      observed, that he had good reason to believe that some of these little <i>enemies
+      to the constitution</i> had contrived and abetted M. de Fleury&rsquo;s escape.
+      Of their having rejoiced at it in a most indecent manner, he said he could
+      produce irrefragable proof. The boy who saw Babet tear down the <i>placard</i>
+      was produced and solemnly examined; and the thoughtless action of this
+      poor little girl was construed into a state crime of the most horrible
+      nature. In a declamatory tone, Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens,
+      that in the ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of
+      which France ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was
+      condemned to death for having made a plaything of a fragment of the
+      gilding that had fallen from a public statue. The orator, for the reward
+      of his eloquence, obtained an order to seize every thing in Mad. de
+      Fleury&rsquo;s school-house, and to throw the nun into prison.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Who now will guard bewilder&rsquo;d youth
+  Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage?&mdash;
+  Such war can Virtue wage?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution, Mad.
+      de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening to Babet,
+      who was reading Æsop&rsquo;s fable of <i>The old man and his sons</i>. Whilst
+      her sister was reading, Victoire collected a number of twigs from the
+      garden: she had just tied them together; and was going, by Sister Frances&rsquo;
+      desire, to let her companions try if they could break the bundle, when the
+      attention of the moral of the fable was interrupted by the entrance of an
+      old woman, whose countenance expressed the utmost terror and haste, to
+      tell what she had not breath to utter. To Mad. de Fleury she was a
+      stranger; but the children immediately recollected her to be the <i>chestnut
+      woman</i>, to whom Babet had some years ago restored certain purloined
+      chestnuts. &ldquo;Fly!&rdquo; said she, the moment she had breath to speak: &ldquo;Fly!&mdash;they
+      are coming to seize every thing here&mdash;carry off what you can&mdash;make
+      haste&mdash;make haste!&mdash;I came through a by-street. A man was eating
+      chestnuts at my stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the order
+      from Citoyen Tracassier. They&rsquo;ll be here in five minutes&mdash;quick!&mdash;quick!&mdash;You,
+      in particular,&rdquo; continued she, turning to the nun, &ldquo;else you&rsquo;ll be in
+      prison.&rdquo; At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister Frances,
+      loosed their hold, exclaiming, &ldquo;Go! go quick: but where? where?&mdash;we
+      will go with her.&rdquo; &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; said Madame de Fleury, &ldquo;she shall come home
+      with me&mdash;my carriage is at the door.&rdquo; &ldquo;Ma belle dame!&rdquo; cried the
+      chestnut woman, &ldquo;your house is the worst place she can go to&mdash;let her
+      come to my cellar&mdash;the poorest cellar in these days is safer than the
+      grandest palace.&rdquo; So saying, she seized the nun with honest roughness, and
+      hurried her away. As soon as she was gone, the children ran different
+      ways, each to collect some favourite thing, which they thought they could
+      not leave behind. Victoire alone stood motionless beside Mad. de Fleury;
+      her whole thoughts absorbed by the fear that her benefactress would be
+      imprisoned. &ldquo;Oh, madame! dear, dear Madame de Fleury, don&rsquo;t stay! don&rsquo;t
+      stay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, children, never mind these things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t stay, madame, don&rsquo;t stay! I will stay with them&mdash;I will stay&mdash;do
+      you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The children hearing these words, and recollecting Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s
+      danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed her
+      orders to go home to their parents. Victoire at last saw Mad. de Fleury
+      safe in her carriage. The coachman drove off at a great rate; and a few
+      minutes afterwards Tracassier&rsquo;s myrmidons arrived at the school-house.
+      Great was their surprise, when they found only the poor children&rsquo;s little
+      books, unfinished samplers, and half-hemmed handkerchiefs. They ran into
+      the garden to search for the nun. They were men of brutal habits; yet as
+      they looked at every thing round them, which bespoke peace, innocence, and
+      childish happiness, they could not help thinking it was a pity to destroy
+      what <i>could do the nation no great harm after all</i>. They were even
+      glad that the nun had made her escape, since they were not answerable for
+      it; and they returned to their employer, satisfied for once without doing
+      any mischief: but Citizen Tracassier was of too vindictive a temper to
+      suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance. The next day
+      Mad. de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal, and ordered to give up
+      the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree of the law had been
+      obtained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman: the gentle firmness
+      of this lady&rsquo;s answers to a brutal interrogatory was termed insolence; she
+      was pronounced a refractory aristocrat, dangerous to the state; and an
+      order was made out to seal up her goods, and to keep her a prisoner in her
+      own house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Alas! full oft on Guilt&rsquo;s victorious car
+  The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,
+  While the fair captive, mark&rsquo;d with many a scar,
+  In lone obscurity, oppress&rsquo;d, forlorn,
+  Resigns to tears her angel form.&rdquo;&mdash;BEATTIE.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      A close prisoner in her own house, Mad. de Fleury was now guarded by men
+      suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the people; men of
+      brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more ferocious minds. They
+      seemed to delight in the insolent, display of their newly-acquired power.
+      One of these men had formerly been convicted of some horrible crime, and
+      had been sent to the galleys by M. de Fleury. Revenge actuated this wretch
+      under the mask of patriotism, and he rejoiced in seeing the wife of the
+      man he hated a prisoner in his custody. Ignorant of the facts, his
+      associates were ready to believe him in the right, and to join in the
+      senseless cry against all who were their superiors in fortune, birth, and
+      education. This unfortunate lady was forbidden all intercourse with her
+      friends, and it was in vain she attempted to obtain from her jailers
+      intelligence of what was passing in Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tu verras&mdash;Tout va bien&mdash;Ca ira,&rdquo; were the only answers they
+      deigned to make: frequently they continued smoking their pipes in obdurate
+      silence. She occupied the back rooms of her house, because her guards
+      apprehended that she might from the front windows receive intelligence
+      from her friends. One morning she was awakened by an unusual noise in the
+      streets; and upon her inquiring the occasion of it, her guards told her
+      she was welcome to go to the front windows, and satisfy her curiosity. She
+      went, and saw an immense crowd of people surrounding a guillotine, that
+      had been erected the preceding night. Mad. de Fleury started back with
+      horror&mdash;her guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and asked whether her
+      curiosity was satisfied. She would have left the room; but it was now
+      their pleasure to detain her, and to force her to continue the whole day
+      in this apartment. When the guillotine began its work, they had even the
+      barbarity to drag her to the window, repeating, &ldquo;It is there you ought to
+      be!&mdash;It is there your husband ought to be!&mdash;You are too happy,
+      that your husband is not there this moment. But he will be there&mdash;the
+      law will overtake him&mdash;he will be there in time&mdash;and you too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no impression
+      upon these cruel men. When at night they saw her kneeling at her prayers,
+      they taunted her with gross and impious mockery; and when she sunk to
+      sleep, they would waken her by their loud and drunken orgies: if she
+      remonstrated, they answered, &ldquo;The enemies of the constitution should have
+      no rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+      interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic pleasures, or
+      employed for the good of her fellow-creatures. Even in this hour of
+      personal danger she thought of others more than of herself: she thought of
+      her husband, an exile in a foreign country, who might be reduced to the
+      utmost distress, now that she was deprived of all means of remitting him
+      money. She thought of her friends, who, she knew, would exert themselves
+      to obtain her liberty, and whose zeal in her cause might involve them and
+      their families in distress. She thought of the good Sister Frances, who
+      had been exposed by her means to the unrelenting persecution of the
+      malignant and powerful Tracassier. She thought of her poor little pupils,
+      now thrown upon the world without a protector. Whilst these ideas were
+      revolving in her mind, one night, as she lay awake, she heard the door of
+      her chamber open softly, and a soldier, one of her guards, with a light in
+      his hand, entered: he came to the foot of her bed; and, as she started up,
+      laid his finger upon his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t make the least noise,&rdquo; said he in a whisper; &ldquo;those without are
+      drunk, and asleep. Don&rsquo;t you know me?&mdash;Don&rsquo;t you remember my face?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man took off the bonnet-rouge&mdash;still she could not guess who he
+      was.&mdash;&ldquo;You never saw me in an uniform before, nor without a black
+      face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked again, and recollected the smith, to whom Maurice was bound
+      apprentice, and remembered his <i>patois</i> accent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember you,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;at any rate; and your goodness to that poor
+      girl the day her arm was broken, and all your goodness to Maurice&mdash;But
+      I&rsquo;ve no time for talking of that now&mdash;get up, wrap this great coat
+      round you&mdash;don&rsquo;t be in a hurry, but make no noise, and follow me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels, opened a
+      back door into the garden, hurried her, almost carried her, across the
+      garden, to a door at the furthest end of it, which opened into Les Champs
+      Elysées&mdash;&ldquo;La voilà!&rdquo; cried he, pushing her through the half-opened
+      door. &ldquo;God be praised!&rdquo; answered a voice, which Mad. de Fleury knew to be
+      Victoire&rsquo;s, whose arms were thrown round her with a transport of joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Softly; she is not safe yet&mdash;wait till we get her home, Victoire,&rdquo;
+       said another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice. He produced a
+      dark lantern, and guided Mad. de Fleury across the Champs Elysées, and
+      across the bridge, and then through various by-streets, in perfect
+      silence, till they arrived safely at the house where Victoire&rsquo;s mother
+      lodged, and went up those very stairs which she had ascended in such
+      different circumstances several years before. The mother, who was sitting
+      up waiting most anxiously for the return of her children, clasped her
+      hands in an ecstasy, when she saw them return with Mad. de Fleury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Welcome, madame! Welcome, dear madame! but who would have thought of
+      seeing you here, in such a way? Let her rest herself&mdash;let her rest;
+      she is quite overcome. Here, madame, can you sleep on this poor bed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken,&rdquo; said
+      Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, Lord bless her!&rdquo; said the mother; &ldquo;and though it&rsquo;s seven good years
+      ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw her sitting on that bed, beside my
+      poor child, looking like an angel. But let her rest, let her rest&mdash;we&rsquo;ll
+      not say a word more, only God bless her; thank Heaven, she&rsquo;s safe with us
+      at last!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good people,
+      lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most earnestly that
+      she would remain with them without scruple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely, madame,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;you must think that we have some
+      remembrance of all you have done for us, and some touch of gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope,&rdquo; said Maurice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for you. The lion
+      was not too proud to be served by the poor little mouse,&rdquo; said Victoire.
+      &ldquo;As to danger for us,&rdquo; continued she, &ldquo;there can be none; for Maurice and
+      I have contrived a hiding-place for you, madame, that can never be found
+      out&mdash;let them come spying here as often as they please, they will
+      never find her out, will they, Maurice? Look, madame, into this
+      lumber-room&mdash;you see it seems to be quite full of wood for firing;
+      well, if you creep in behind, you can hide yourself quite snug in the loft
+      above, and here&rsquo;s a trap-door into the loft that nobody ever would think
+      of&mdash;for we have hung these old things from the top of it, and who
+      could guess it was a trap-door? So, you see, dear madame, you may sleep in
+      peace here, and never fear for us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the sense
+      and prudence of a woman of thirty. Gratitude seemed at once to develope
+      all the powers of her mind. It was she and Maurice who had prevailed upon
+      the smith to effect Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s escape from her own house. She had
+      invented, she had foreseen, she had arranged every thing; she had scarcely
+      rested night or day since the imprisonment of her benefactress; and now
+      that her exertions had fully succeeded, her joy seemed to raise her above
+      all feeling of fatigue; she looked as fresh and moved as briskly, her
+      mother said, as if she were preparing to go to a ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! my child,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;your cousin Manon, who goes to those balls
+      every night, was never so happy as you are this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Victoire&rsquo;s happiness was not of long continuance; for the next day
+      they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged beyond
+      measure at Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s escape, that all his emissaries were at work
+      to discover her present hiding-place, that the houses of all the parents
+      and relations of her pupils were to be searched, and that the most severe
+      denunciations were issued against all by whom she should be harboured.
+      Manon was the person who gave this intelligence, but not with any
+      benevolent design; she first came to Victoire, to display her own
+      consequence; and to terrify her, she related all she knew from a soldier&rsquo;s
+      wife, who was M. Tracassier&rsquo;s mistress. Victoire had sufficient command
+      over herself to conceal from the inquisitive eyes of Manon the agitation
+      of her heart; she had also the prudence not to let any one of her
+      companions into her secret, though, when she saw their anxiety, she was
+      much tempted to relieve them, by the assurance that Mad. de Fleury was in
+      safety. All the day was passed in apprehension. Mad. de Fleury never
+      stirred from her place of concealment: as the evening and the hour of the
+      domiciliary visits approached, Victoire and Maurice were alarmed by an
+      unforeseen difficulty. Their mother, whose health had been broken by hard
+      work, in vain endeavoured to suppress her terror at the thoughts of this
+      domiciliary visit; she repeated incessantly that she knew they should all
+      be discovered, and that her children would be dragged to the guillotine
+      before her face. She was in such a distracted state, that they dreaded she
+      would, the moment she saw the soldiers, reveal all she knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they question me, I shall not know what to answer,&rdquo; cried the
+      terrified woman. &ldquo;What can I say?&mdash;What can I do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition to
+      understand, or even to listen to, any thing that was said. In this
+      situation they were, when the domiciliary visitors arrived&mdash;they
+      heard the noise of the soldiers&rsquo; feet on the stairs&mdash;the poor woman
+      sprang from the arms of her children; but at the moment the door was
+      opened, and she saw the glittering of the bayonets, she fell at full
+      length in a swoon on the floor&mdash;fortunately before she had power to
+      utter a syllable. The people of the house knew, and said, that she was
+      subject to fits on any sudden alarm; so that her being affected in this
+      manner did not appear surprising. They threw her on a bed, whilst they
+      proceeded to search the house: her children stayed with her; and, wholly
+      occupied in attending to her, they were not exposed to the danger of
+      betraying their anxiety about Mad. de Fleury. They trembled, however, from
+      head to foot, when they heard one of the soldiers swear that all the wood
+      in the lumber-room must be pulled out, and that he would not leave the
+      house till every stick was moved; the sound of each log, as it was thrown
+      out, was heard by Victoire: her brother was now summoned to assist. How
+      great was his terror, when one of the searchers looked up to the roof, as
+      if expecting to find a trap-door! fortunately, however, he did not
+      discover it. Maurice, who had seized the light, contrived to throw the
+      shadows so as to deceive the eye. The soldiers at length retreated; and
+      with inexpressible satisfaction Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw
+      them fairly out of the house. For some minutes after they were in safety,
+      the terrified mother, who had recovered her senses, could scarcely believe
+      that the danger was over. She embraced her children by turns with wild
+      transport; and with tears begged Mad. de Fleury to forgive her cowardice,
+      and not to attribute it to ingratitude, or to suspect that she had a bad
+      heart. She protested that she was now become so courageous, since she
+      found that she had gone through this trial successfully, and since she was
+      sure that the hiding-place was really so secure, that she should never be
+      alarmed at any domiciliary visit in future. Mad. de Fleury, however, did
+      not think it either just or expedient to put her resolution to the trial.
+      She determined to leave Paris; and, if possible, to make her escape from
+      France. The master of one of the Paris diligences was brother to François,
+      her footman: he was ready to assist her at all hazards, and to convey her
+      safely to Bourdeaux, if she could disguise herself properly; and if she
+      could obtain a pass from any friend under a feigned name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Victoire&mdash;the indefatigable Victoire&mdash;recollected that her
+      friend Annette had an aunt, who was nearly of Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s size, and
+      who had just obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit some of her
+      relations. The pass was willingly given up to Mad. de Fleury; and upon
+      reading it over it was found to answer tolerably well&mdash;the colour of
+      the eyes and hair at least would do; though the words <i>un nez gros</i>
+      were not precisely descriptive of this lady&rsquo;s. Annette&rsquo;s mother, who had
+      always worn the provincial dress of Auvergne, furnished the high <i>cornette</i>,
+      stiff stays, boddice, &amp;c.; and equipped in these, Mad. de Fleury was
+      so admirably well disguised, that even Victoire declared she should
+      scarcely have known her. Money, that most necessary passport in all
+      countries, was still wanting: as seals had been put upon all Mad. de
+      Fleury&rsquo;s effects the day she had been first imprisoned in her own house,
+      she could not save even her jewels. She had, however, one ring on her
+      finger of some value. How to dispose of it without exciting suspicion was
+      the difficulty. Babet, who was resolved to have her share in assisting her
+      benefactress, proposed to carry the ring to a <i>colporteur</i>&mdash;a
+      pedlar, or sort of travelling jeweller, who had come to lay in a stock of
+      hardware at Paris: he was related to one of Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s little
+      pupils, and readily disposed of the ring for her: she obtained at least
+      two-thirds of its value&mdash;a great deal in those times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude, which she received in
+      these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in her prosperity,
+      touched her generous heart so much, that she has often since declared she
+      could not regret having been reduced to distress. Before she quitted
+      Paris, she wrote letters to her friends, recommending her pupils to their
+      protection; she left these letters in the care of Victoire, who to the
+      last moment followed her with anxious affection. She would have followed
+      her benefactress into exile, but that she was prevented by duty and
+      affection from leaving her mother, who was in declining health.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris. Some of the
+      municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her road were
+      as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinizing her passport. It
+      seldom happened that more than one of these petty committees of public
+      safety could read. One usually spelled out the passport as well as he
+      could, whilst the others smoked their pipes, and from time to time held a
+      light up to the lady&rsquo;s face to examine whether it agreed with the
+      description.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mais toi! tu n&rsquo;as pas le nez gros!&rdquo; said one of her judges to her. &ldquo;Son
+      nez est assez gros, et c&rsquo;est moi qui le dit,&rdquo; said another. The question
+      was put to the vote; and the man who had asserted what was contrary to the
+      evidence of his senses was so vehement in supporting his opinion, that it
+      was carried in spite of all that could be said against it. Mad. de Fleury
+      was suffered to proceed on her journey. She reached Bourdeaux in safety.
+      Her husband&rsquo;s friends&mdash;the good have always friends in adversity&mdash;her
+      husband&rsquo;s friends exerted themselves for her with the most prudent zeal.
+      She was soon provided with a sum of money sufficient for her support for
+      some time in England; and she safely reached that free and happy country,
+      which has been the refuge of so many illustrious exiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende
+  Dalla rupe natìa quand&rsquo; esce fuora,
+  E a poco a poco lucido se rende
+  Sotto l&rsquo;attenta che lo lavora.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London; and they both lived
+      in the most retired and frugal manner. They had too much of the pride of
+      independence to become burthensome to their generous English friends.
+      Notwithstanding the variety of difficulties they had to encounter, and the
+      number of daily privations to which they were forced to submit, yet they
+      were happy&mdash;in a tranquil conscience, in their mutual affection, and
+      the attachment of many poor but grateful friends. A few months after she
+      came to England, Mad. de Fleury received, by a private hand, a packet of
+      letters from her little pupils. Each of them, even the youngest, who had
+      but just begun to learn joining-hand, would write a few lines in this
+      packet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon these
+      simple words:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,
+
+    &ldquo;I love you&mdash;I wish you were here again&mdash;I will be <i>very very</i>
+    good whilst you are away. If you stay away ever so long, I shall
+    never forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you will soon be
+    able to come back, and this is what I pray for every night. Sister
+    Frances says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire
+    thinks so too.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      This was the substance of several of their little letters. Victoire&rsquo;s
+      contained rather more information:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;You will be glad to <i>learn</i> that dear Sister Frances is safe, and
+    that the good chestnut woman, in whose cellar she took refuge, did
+    not get into any difficulty. After you were gone, M. T&mdash;&mdash; said
+    that he did not think it worth while to pursue her, as it was only
+    you he wanted to humble. Manon, who has, I do not know how, means
+    of knowing, told me this. Sister Frances is now with her abbess,
+    who, as well as every body else that knows her, is very fond of
+    her. What was a convent is no longer a convent: the nuns are
+    turned out of it. Sister Frances&rsquo; health is not so good as it used
+    to be, though she never complains; I am sure she suffers much; she
+    has never been the same person since that day when we were driven
+    from our happy school-room. It is all destroyed&mdash;the garden and
+    every thing. It is now a dismal sight. Your absence also afflicts
+    Sister Frances much, and she is in great anxiety about all of
+    us. She has the six little ones with her every day, in her own
+    apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used to do. We six
+    eldest go to see her as often as we can. I should have begun, my
+    dear Mad. de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after you left
+    Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very kind to
+    write for us in the midst of your hurry. Your friends have been
+    exceedingly good to us, and have got places for us all. Rose is
+    with Mad. la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy
+    and more expert at cutting out than girls she has had these three
+    years. Marianne is in the service of Mad. de V&mdash;&mdash;, who has lost
+    a great part of her large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her
+    former waiting-maid. Mad. de V&mdash;&mdash; is well pleased with Marianne,
+    and bids me tell you that she thanks you for her. Indeed,
+    Marianne, though she is only fourteen, can do every thing her lady
+    wants. Susanne is with a confectioner; she gave Sister Frances
+    a box of <i>bonbons</i> of her own making this morning; and Sister
+    Frances, who is a judge, says they are excellent; she only wishes
+    you could taste them. Annette and I (thanks to your kindness!) are
+    in the same service, with Mad. Feuillot, the <i>brodeuse</i>, to whom
+    you recommended us: she is not discontented with our work, and
+    indeed sent a very civil message yesterday to Sister Frances on
+    this subject; but I believe it is too flattering for me to repeat
+    in this letter. We shall do our best to give her satisfaction. She
+    is glad to find that we can write tolerably, and that we can make
+    out bills and keep accounts; this being particularly convenient
+    to her at present, as the young man she had in the shop is become
+    an <i>orator</i>, and good for nothing but <i>la chose publique</i>: her
+    son, who could have supplied his place, is ill; and Mad. Feuillot
+    herself, not having had, as she says, the advantage of such a good
+    education as we have been blessed with, writes but badly, and
+    knows nothing of arithmetic. Dear Mad. de Fleury, how much, how
+    very much we are obliged to you! We feel it every day more and
+    more: in these times what would have become of us, if we could
+    do nothing useful? Who <i>would</i>, who <i>could</i> be burdened with us?
+    Dear madame, we owe every thing to you&mdash;and we can do nothing, not
+    the least thing, for you!&mdash;My mother is still in bad health, and
+    I fear will never recover: Babet is with her always, and Sister
+    Frances is very good to her. My brother Maurice is now so good a
+    workman that he earns a louis a week. He is very steady to his
+    business, and never goes to the revolutionary meetings, though
+    once he had a great mind to be an orator of the people, but never
+    since the day that you explained to him that he knew nothing about
+    equality and the rights of men, &amp;c. How could I forget to tell
+    you, that his master the smith, who was one of your guards, and
+    who assisted you to escape, has returned without suspicion to his
+    former trade? and he declares that he will never more meddle with
+    public affairs. I gave him the money you left with me for him. He
+    is very kind to my brother&mdash;yesterday Maurice mended for Annette&rsquo;s
+    mistress the lock of an English writing-desk, and he mended it so
+    astonishingly well, that an English gentleman, who saw it, could
+    not believe the work was done by a Frenchman; so my brother was
+    sent for, to prove it, and they were forced to believe it. To-day
+    he has more work than he can finish this twelvemonth&mdash;all this we
+    owe to you. I shall never forget the day when you promised that
+    you would grant my brother&rsquo;s wish to be apprenticed to the smith,
+    if I was not in a passion for a month&mdash;that cured me of being so
+    passionate.
+
+    &ldquo;Dear Mad. de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter, and
+    not so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted
+    to tell you every thing at once, because, may be, I shall not for
+    a long time have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to
+    you.
+
+    &ldquo;VICTOIRE.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Several months elapsed before Mad. de Fleury received another letter from
+      Victoire: it was short, and evidently written in great distress of mind.
+      It contained an account of her mother&rsquo;s death. She was now left at the
+      early age of sixteen an orphan. Mad. Feuillot, the <i>brodeuse</i>, with
+      whom she lived, added a few lines to her letter, penned with difficulty
+      and strangely spelled, but expressive of her being highly pleased with
+      both the girls recommended to her by Mad. de Fleury, especially Victoire,
+      who she said was such a treasure to her, that she would not part with her
+      on any account, and should consider her as a daughter. &ldquo;I tell her not to
+      grieve so much; for though she has lost one mother, she has gained another
+      for herself, who will always love her: and besides, she is so useful, and
+      in so many ways, with her pen and her needle, in accounts, and every thing
+      that is wanted in a family or a shop, she can never want employment or
+      friends in the worst times; and none can be worse than these, especially
+      for such pretty girls as she is, who have all their heads turned, and are
+      taught to consider nothing a sin that used to be sins. Many gentlemen, who
+      come to our shop, have found out that Victoire is very handsome, and tell
+      her so; but she is so modest and prudent, that I am not afraid for her. I
+      could tell you, madame, a good anecdote on this subject, but my paper will
+      not allow, and besides, my writing is so difficult.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Above a year elapsed before Mad. de Fleury received another letter from
+      Victoire: this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant took charge: it
+      contained a variety of little offerings from her pupils, instances of
+      their ingenuity, their industry, and their affection: the last thing in
+      the packet was a small purse labelled in this manner&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Savings from our wages and earnings, for her who taught us all we know</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Dans sa pompe élégante, admirez Chantilly,
+  De héros en héros, d&rsquo;âge en âge, embelli.&rdquo;
+
+  DE LILLE.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from the
+      shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution, declined so
+      rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that she was obliged to
+      leave Paris, and she retired to a little village in the neighbourhood of
+      Chantilly. She chose this situation, because here she was within a
+      morning&rsquo;s walk of Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s country-seat. The Château de Fleury had
+      not yet been seized as national property, nor had it suffered from the
+      attacks of the mob, though it was in a perilous situation, within view of
+      the high road to Paris. The Parisian populace had not yet extended their
+      outrages to this distance from the city; and the poor people who lived on
+      the estate of Fleury, attached from habit, principle, and gratitude to
+      their lord, were not disposed to take advantage of the disorder of the
+      times, to injure the property of those from whom they had all their lives
+      received favours and protection. A faithful old steward had the care of
+      the castle and the grounds. Sister Frances was impatient to talk to him,
+      and to visit the château, which she had never seen; but for some days
+      after her arrival in the village, she was so much fatigued and so weak,
+      that she could not attempt so long a walk. Victoire had obtained
+      permission from her mistress to accompany the nun for a few days to the
+      country, as Annette undertook to do all the business of the shop during
+      the absence of her companion. Victoire was fully as eager as Sister
+      Frances to see the faithful steward and the Château de Fleury, and the
+      morning was now fixed for their walk: but in the middle of the night they
+      were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who had just entered the village
+      fresh from the destruction of a neighbouring castle. The nun and Victoire
+      listened; but in the midst of the horrid yells of joy, no human voice, no
+      intelligible word, could be distinguished: they looked through a chink in
+      the window-shutter, and they saw the street below filled with a crowd of
+      men, whose countenances were by turns illuminated by the glare of the
+      torches which they brandished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens!&rdquo; whispered the nun to Victoire: &ldquo;I should know the face of
+      that man who is loading his musket&mdash;the very man whom I nursed ten
+      years ago, when he was ill with a jail fever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head than the
+      others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were disputing whether
+      they should proceed further, spend the remainder of the night in the
+      village alehouse, or return to Paris. Their leader ordered spirits to be
+      distributed to his associates, and exhorted them in a loud voice to
+      proceed in their glorious work. Tossing his firebrand over his head, he
+      declared that he would never return to Paris till he had razed to the
+      ground the Château de Fleury. At these words, Victoire, forgetful of all
+      personal danger, ran out into the midst of the mob, pressed her way up to
+      the leader of these ruffians, caught him by the arm, exclaiming, &ldquo;You will
+      not touch a stone in the Château de Fleury&mdash;I have my reasons&mdash;I
+      say you will not suffer a stone in the Château de Fleury to be touched.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not?&rdquo; cried the man, turning astonished; &ldquo;and who are you, that I
+      should listen to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No matter who I am,&rdquo; said Victoire; &ldquo;follow me, and I will show you one
+      to whom you will not refuse to listen. Here!&mdash;here she is,&rdquo; continued
+      Victoire, pointing to the nun, who had followed her in amazement; &ldquo;here is
+      one to whom you will listen&mdash;yes, look at her well: hold the light to
+      her face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless expectation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy,&rdquo; cried
+      Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man; &ldquo;you will
+      save the Château de Fleury, for her sake&mdash;who saved your life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired with sudden
+      generosity. &ldquo;By my faith you are a brave girl, and a fine girl, and know
+      how to speak to the heart, and in the right moment. Friends, citizens!
+      this nun, though she is a nun, is good for something. When I lay ill with
+      a fever, and not a soul else to help me, she came and gave me medicines
+      and food&mdash;in short, I owe my life to her. &lsquo;Tis ten years ago, but I
+      remember it well; and now it is our turn to rule, and she shall be paid as
+      she deserves. Not a stone of the Château de Fleury shall be touched!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With loud acclamations, the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm of the
+      moment, and followed their leader peaceably out of the village. All this
+      passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the impression of reality
+      upon the mind. As soon as the sun rose in the morning, Victoire looked out
+      for the turrets of the Château de Fleury, and she saw that they were safe&mdash;safe
+      in the midst of the surrounding devastation. Nothing remained of the
+      superb palace of Chantilly but the white arches of its foundation!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest,
+  Thy meek submission to thy God express&rsquo;d;
+  When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
+  A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
+  What to thy soul its glad assurance gave&mdash;
+  Its hope in death, its triumph o&rsquo;er the grave?
+  The sweet remembrance of unblemish&rsquo;d youth,
+  Th&rsquo;inspiring voice of innocence and truth!&rdquo;
+
+  ROGERS.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the shock
+      of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Château de Fleury. The
+      gates were opened for them by the old steward and his son Basile, who
+      welcomed them with all the eagerness with which people welcome friends in
+      time of adversity. The old man showed them the place; and through every
+      apartment of the castle went on, talking of former times, and with
+      narrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear master and mistress. Here
+      his lady used to sit and read&mdash;here was the table at which she wrote&mdash;this
+      was the sofa on which she and the ladies sat the very last day she was at
+      the castle, at the open windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and
+      people of the village were dancing on the green.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ay, those were happy times,&rdquo; said the old man; &ldquo;but they will never
+      return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never! Oh, do not say so,&rdquo; cried Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never during my life, at least,&rdquo; said the nun in a low voice, and with a
+      look of resignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his arm
+      against the chord of Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s harp, and the sound echoed through
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before this year is at an end,&rdquo; cried Victoire, &ldquo;perhaps that harp will
+      be struck again in this château by Mad. de Fleury herself. Last night we
+      could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing this morning, and yet
+      it is safe&mdash;not a stone touched! Oh, we shall all live, I hope, to
+      see better times!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire&rsquo;s enthusiastic
+      hope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt better this morning
+      than she had felt for months, and Victoire was happier than she had been
+      since Mad. de Fleury left France. But, alas! it was only a transient
+      gleam. Sister Frances relapsed, and declined so rapidly, that even
+      Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed to hope, despaired of her
+      recovery. With placid resignation, or rather with mild confidence, this
+      innocent and benevolent creature met the approach of death. She seemed
+      attached to earth only by affection for those whom she was to leave in
+      this world. Two of the youngest of the children which had formerly been
+      placed under her care, and who were not yet able to earn their own
+      subsistence, she kept with her, and in the last days of her life she
+      continued her instructions to them with the fond solicitude of a parent.
+      Her father confessor, an excellent man, who never even in these dangerous
+      times shrunk from his duty, came to attend Sister Frances in her last
+      moments, and relieved her mind from all anxiety, by promising to place the
+      two little children with the lady who had been abbess of her convent, who
+      would to the utmost of her power protect and provide for them suitably.
+      Satisfied by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon Victoire,
+      who stood beside her bed, and with that smile upon her countenance
+      expired.&mdash;It was some time before the little children seemed to
+      comprehend, or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they had never
+      before seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die, and their
+      first feeling was astonishment: they did not seem to understand why
+      Victoire wept. But the next day when no Sister Frances spoke to them, when
+      every hour they missed some accustomed kindness from her,&mdash;when
+      presently they saw the preparations for her funeral,&mdash;when they heard
+      that she was to be buried in the earth, and that they should never see her
+      more,&mdash;they could neither play nor eat, but sat in a corner holding
+      each other&rsquo;s hands, and watching every thing that was done for the dead by
+      Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would not
+      have been permitted by the populace. It was therefore performed as
+      secretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was carried to
+      the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his son Basile,
+      Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only persons present. It
+      is necessary to mention this, because the facts were afterwards
+      misrepresented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;The character is lost!
+  Her head adorn&rsquo;d with lappets, pinn&rsquo;d aloft,
+  And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
+  Indebted to some smart wig-weaver&rsquo;s hand
+  For more than half the tresses it sustains.&rdquo;
+
+  COWPER.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+      herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
+      employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best remedies
+      for sorrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, as she was busy settling Mad. Feuillot&rsquo;s accounts, a servant came
+      into the shop, and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he presented her a
+      note, which she found rather difficult to decipher. It was signed by her
+      cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her hotel. &ldquo;<i>Her hotel</i>!&rdquo;
+       repeated Victoire with astonishment. The servant assured her that one of
+      the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he was
+      commissioned to show her the way to it. Victoire found her cousin in a
+      magnificent house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de Salms.
+      Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the mode, was seated
+      under a richly-fringed canopy. She burst into a loud laugh as Victoire
+      entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look just as much astonished as I expected,&rdquo; cried she. &ldquo;Great
+      changes have happened since I saw you last&mdash;I always told you,
+      Victoire, I knew the world better than you did. What has come of all your
+      schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude truly?&mdash;Your
+      patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge in the shop of a <i>brodeuse</i>,
+      who makes you work your fingers to the bone, no doubt.&mdash;Now you shall
+      see the difference. Let me show you my house; you know it was formerly the
+      hotel of the Prince de Salms, he that was guillotined the other day; but
+      you know nothing, for you have been out of Paris this month, I understand.
+      Then I must tell you, that my friend Villeneuf has acquired an immense
+      fortune! by assignats, made in the course of a fortnight&mdash;I say an
+      immense fortune! and has bought this fine house&mdash;Now do you begin to
+      understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not clearly know whom you mean by your friend Villeneuf,&rdquo; said
+      Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The hairdresser, who lived in our street,&rdquo; said Manon; &ldquo;he became a great
+      patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence and his luck
+      in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yours! then he is your husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That does not follow&mdash;that is not necessary&mdash;but do not look so
+      shocked&mdash;every body goes on the same way now; besides, I had no other
+      resource&mdash;I must have starved&mdash;I could not earn my bread as you
+      do. Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort&mdash;and
+      besides&mdash;but come, let me show you my house&mdash;you have no idea
+      how fine it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With anxious ostentation, Manon displayed all her riches, to excite
+      Victoire&rsquo;s envy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Confess, Victoire,&rdquo; said she at last, &ldquo;that you think me the happiest
+      person you have ever known.&mdash;You do not answer; whom did you ever
+      know that was happier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier,&rdquo; said
+      Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The poor nun!&rdquo; said Manon, disdainfully. &ldquo;Well, and whom do you think the
+      next happiest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame de Fleury.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An exile and a beggar!&mdash;Oh, you are jesting now, Victoire&mdash;or&mdash;envious.
+      With that sanctified face, citoyenne&mdash;perhaps I should say
+      Mademoiselle Victoire, you would be delighted to change places with me
+      this instant. Come, you shall stay with me a week, to try how you like
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me,&rdquo; said Victoire, firmly; &ldquo;I cannot stay with you, Manon&mdash;you
+      have chosen one way of life, and I another&mdash;quite another. I do not
+      repent my choice&mdash;may you never repent yours!&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks! Repent of my
+      choice!&mdash;a likely thing, truly. Am not I at the top of the wheel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And may not the wheel turn?&rdquo; said Victoire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps it may,&rdquo; said Manon; &ldquo;but till it does I will enjoy myself. Since
+      you are of a different humour, return to Mad. Feuillot, and <i>figure</i>
+      upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills, and nurse old nuns, all the
+      days of your life. You will never persuade me, however, that you would not
+      change places with me if you could. Stay till you are tried, Mademoiselle
+      Victoire. Who was ever in love with you, or your virtues?&mdash;Stay till
+      you are tried.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,
+  Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
+  Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye
+  To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit.&rdquo;
+
+  MILTON.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected. Manon had
+      scarcely pronounced the last words, when the ci-devant hairdresser burst
+      into the room, accompanied by several of his political associates, who met
+      to consult measures for the good of the nation. Among these patriots was
+      the Abbé Tracassier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?&rdquo; whispered he; &ldquo;a friend
+      of yours, I hope?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate abbé had
+      seen enough to make him wish to see more. The next day he went to Mad.
+      Feuillot&rsquo;s, under pretence of buying some embroidered handkerchiefs; he
+      paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant compliments, which made no
+      impression upon her innocent heart, and which appeared ridiculous to her
+      plain good sense. She did not know who he was, nor did Mad. Feuillot; for
+      though she had often heard of the abbé, yet she had never seen him.
+      Several succeeding days he returned, and addressed himself to Victoire,
+      each time with increasing freedom. Mad. Feuillot, who had the greatest
+      confidence in her, left her entirely to her own discretion. Victoire
+      begged her friend Annette to do the business of the shop, and stayed at
+      work in the back parlour. Tracassier was much disappointed by her absence;
+      but as he thought no great ceremony necessary in his proceedings, he made
+      his name known in a haughty manner to Mad. de Feuillot, and desired that
+      he might be admitted into the back parlour, as he had something of
+      consequence to say to Mlle. Victoire in private. Our readers will not
+      require to have a detailed account of this tête-à-tête; it is sufficient
+      to say, that the disappointed and exasperated abbé left the house
+      muttering imprecations. The next morning a note came to Victoire,
+      apparently from Manon: it was directed by her, but the inside was written
+      by an unknown hand, and contained these words:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl&mdash;since you do not
+    like compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery.
+    It is in the power of the person who dictates this, not only to
+    make you as rich and great as your cousin Manon, but also to
+    restore to fortune and to their country the friends for whom you
+    are most interested. Their fate as well as your own is in your
+    power: if you send a favourable answer to this note, the persons
+    alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the list of emigrants,
+    and reinstated in their former possessions. If your answer is
+    decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France will
+    be thenceforward impracticable, and their château, as well as
+    their house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold
+    without delay to the highest bidder. To you, who have as much
+    understanding as beauty, it is unnecessary to say more. Consult
+    your heart, charming Victoire! be happy, and make others happy.
+    This moment is decisive of your fate and of theirs, for you have
+    to answer a man of a most decided character.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Victoire&rsquo;s answer was as follows:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or
+    consent to return to their country, upon the conditions proposed;
+    therefore I have no merit in rejecting them.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain, steady, good
+      sense, which goes straight to its object, without being dazzled or imposed
+      upon by sophistry. She was unacquainted with the refinements of sentiment,
+      but she distinctly knew right from wrong, and had sufficient resolution to
+      abide by the right. Perhaps many romantic heroines might have thought it a
+      generous self-devotion to have become in similar circumstances the
+      mistress of Tracassier; and those who are skilled &ldquo;to make the worst
+      appear the better cause&rdquo; might have made such an act of heroism the
+      foundation of an interesting, or at least a fashionable novel. Poor
+      Victoire had not received an education sufficiently refined to enable her
+      to understand these mysteries of sentiment. She was even simple enough to
+      flatter herself that this libertine patriot would not fulfil his threats,
+      and that these had been made only with a view to terrify her into
+      compliance. In this opinion, however, she found herself mistaken. M.
+      Tracassier was indeed a man of the most decided character, if this term
+      may properly be applied to those who act uniformly in consequence of their
+      ruling passion. The Château de Fleury was seized as national property.
+      Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward, who was turned out of
+      the castle, along with his son, the very day after her rejection of the
+      proposed conditions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could not have believed that any human creature could be so wicked!&rdquo;
+       exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but indignation gave way to
+      sorrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the Château de Fleury is really seized?&mdash;and you, good old man,
+      are turned out of the place where you were born?&mdash;and you too,
+      Basile?&mdash;and Mad. de Fleury will never come back again!&mdash;and
+      perhaps she may be put into prison in a foreign country, and may die for
+      want&mdash;and I might have prevented all this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation, whilst
+      Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole transaction.
+      Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so transported with
+      indignation, that he would have gone instantly with the note from
+      Tracassier to <i>denounce</i> him before the whole National Convention, if
+      he had not been restrained by his more prudent father. The old steward
+      represented to him, that as the note was neither signed nor written by the
+      hand of Tracassier, no proof could be brought home to him, and the attempt
+      to convict one of so powerful a party would only bring certain destruction
+      upon the accusers. Besides, such was at this time the general depravity of
+      manners, that numbers would keep the guilty in countenance. There was no
+      crime which the mask of patriotism could not cover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men can
+      never have,&rdquo; said the old man; &ldquo;when their downfall comes, and come it
+      will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT. Victoire, look
+      up! and do not give way to despair&mdash;all will yet be well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At all events, you have done what is right&mdash;so do not reproach
+      yourself,&rdquo; said Basile. &ldquo;Every body&mdash;I mean every body who is good
+      for any thing&mdash;must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Ne mal cio che v&rsquo;annoja,
+  Quello e vero gioire
+  Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
+      which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her conduct
+      towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment; but he forbore
+      to declare his affection, because he could not, consistently with
+      prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of marrying, now that he
+      was not able to maintain a wife and family. The honest earnings of many
+      years of service had been wrested from the old steward at the time the
+      Château de Fleury was seized, and he now depended on the industry of his
+      son for the daily support of his age. His dependence was just, and not
+      likely to be disappointed; for he had given his son an education suitable
+      to his condition in life. Basile was an exact arithmetician, could write
+      an excellent hand, and was a ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring
+      these useful talents into action, and to find employment for them, with
+      men by whom they would be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty&mdash;a
+      difficulty which Victoire&rsquo;s brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation
+      as a smith had introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman of
+      worth and scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make
+      models and plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of
+      a good clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure.
+      Maurice mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character,
+      and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and was
+      accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his father;
+      and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter himself that
+      he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then he might declare his
+      attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding all his boasted prudence, he had
+      betrayed sufficient symptoms of his passion to have rendered a declaration
+      unnecessary to any clear-sighted observer: but Victoire was not thinking
+      of conquests; she was wholly occupied with a scheme of earning a certain
+      sum of money for her benefactress, who was now, as she feared, in want.
+      All Mad. de Fleury&rsquo;s former pupils contributed their share to the common
+      stock; and the mantua-maker, the confectioner, the servants of different
+      sorts, who had been educated at her school, had laid by, during the years
+      of her banishment, an annual portion of their wages and savings: with the
+      sum which Victoire now added to the fund, it amounted to ten thousand
+      livres. The person who undertook to carry this money to Mad. de Fleury,
+      was François, her former footman, who had procured a pass to go to England
+      as a hairdresser. The night before he set out was a happy night for
+      Victoire, as all her companions met, by Mad. Feuillot&rsquo;s invitation, at her
+      house; and after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box,
+      in which each, besides the money, sent some token of their gratitude, and
+      some proof of their ingenuity. They would with all their hearts have sent
+      twice as many <i>souvenirs</i> as François could carry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;D&rsquo;abord c&rsquo;est impossible!&rdquo; cried he, when he saw the box that was
+      prepared for him to carry to England: but his good-nature was unable to
+      resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, &ldquo;which would
+      take up no room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He departed&mdash;arrived safe in England&mdash;found out Mad. de Fleury,
+      who was in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond. He delivered
+      the money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the
+      person to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not so
+      punctual, or was more unlucky; for the letter never reached her, and she
+      and her companions were long uncertain whether their little treasure had
+      been received. They still continued, however, with indefatigable
+      gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for their benefactress;
+      and the pleasure they had in this perseverance made them more than amends
+      for the loss of some little amusements, and for privations to which they
+      submitted in consequence of their resolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time Basile, going on steadily with his employments, advanced
+      every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was increased in
+      proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he thought he could now,
+      without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his father, who approved of
+      his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the probability of his being
+      accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both his father and his friend, he
+      was upon the eve of addressing himself to Victoire, when he was prevented
+      by a new and unforeseen misfortune. His father was taken up, by an
+      emissary of Tracassier&rsquo;s, and brought before one of their revolutionary
+      committees, where he was accused of various acts of incivisme. Among other
+      things equally criminal, it was proved that one Sunday, when he went to
+      see Le Petit Trianon, then a public-house, he exclaimed, &ldquo;C&rsquo;est ici que la
+      canaille danse, et que les honnêtes gens pleurent!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Basile was present at this mock examination of his father&mdash;he saw him
+      on the point of being dragged to prison&mdash;when a hint was given that
+      he might save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the army
+      out of France. Victoire was full in Basile&rsquo;s recollection&mdash;but there
+      was no other means of saving his father. He enlisted, and in twenty-four
+      hours left Paris.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often prove
+      ultimately the most advantageous. Indeed, those who have knowledge,
+      activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks in the lottery of
+      fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended to his commanding officer by
+      the gentleman who had lately employed him as a clerk&mdash;his skill in
+      drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of the country through which
+      they passed, was extremely useful to his general; and his integrity made
+      it safe to trust him as a secretary. His commanding officer, though a
+      brave man, was illiterate, and a secretary was to him a necessary of life.
+      Basile was not only useful, but agreeable; without any mean arts, or
+      servile adulation, he pleased, by simply showing the desire to oblige, and
+      the ability to serve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Diable!&rdquo; exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile&rsquo;s plan of
+      a town, which the army was besieging. &ldquo;How comes it that you are able to
+      do all these things? But you have a genius for this sort of work,
+      apparently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; said Basile, &ldquo;these things were taught to me, when I was a
+      child, by a good friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A good friend he was indeed! he did more for you than if he had given you
+      a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon taken from you;
+      but now you have the means of making a fortune for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This observation of the general&rsquo;s, obvious as it may seem, is deserving of
+      the serious consideration of those who have children of their own to
+      educate, or who have the disposal of money for public charities. In these
+      times, no sensible person will venture to pronounce that a change of
+      fortune and station may not await the highest and the lowest; whether we
+      rise or fall in the scale of society, personal qualities and knowledge
+      will be valuable. Those who fall, cannot be destitute; and those who rise,
+      cannot be ridiculous or contemptible, if they have been prepared for their
+      fortune by proper education. In shipwreck, those who carry their all in
+      their minds are the most secure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his general
+      jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any
+      officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
+      understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different lines,
+      that there was no danger of competition; and the general, finding in his
+      secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense, gradually acquired the
+      habit of asking his opinion on every subject that came within his
+      department. It happened that the general received orders from the
+      Directory at Paris, to take a certain town, let it cost what it would,
+      within a given time: in his perplexity, he exclaimed before Basile against
+      the unreasonableness of these orders, and declared his belief that it was
+      impossible he should succeed, and that this was only a scheme of his
+      enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile had attended to the operations of the
+      engineer who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected the model
+      of the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed as
+      draughtsman by his Parisian friend. He remembered, that there was formerly
+      an old mine, that had been stopped up somewhere near the place where the
+      engineer was at work; he mentioned <i>in private</i> his suspicions to the
+      general, who gave orders in consequence; the old mine was discovered,
+      cleared out, and by these means the town was taken the day before the time
+      appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the glory of this
+      success&mdash;he kept his general&rsquo;s secret and his confidence. Upon their
+      return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was more grateful
+      than some others have been, perhaps because more room was given by
+      Basile&rsquo;s prudence for the exercise of this virtue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; said he to Basile, &ldquo;you have done me a great service by your
+      counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue. Speak now, and tell
+      me freely, if there is any thing I can do for you. You see, as a
+      victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these fellows&mdash;Tracassier&rsquo;s
+      scheme to ruin me missed&mdash;whatever I ask will at this moment he
+      granted; speak freely, therefore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired&mdash;that M. and Mad. de
+      Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their
+      property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them. The
+      general promised that this should be done. A warm contest ensued upon the
+      subject between him and Tracassier; but the general stood firm; and
+      Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and quarrelling irrevocably
+      with a party now more powerful than his own, he and his adherents were
+      driven from that station in which they had so long tyrannized. From being
+      the rulers of France, they in a few hours became banished men, or, in the
+      phrase of the times, <i>des déportés</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The man with whom
+      she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid house she went
+      upon the stage&mdash;did not succeed&mdash;sunk from one degree of
+      profligacy to another; and at last died in an hospital.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, the order for the restoration of the Fleury property,
+      and for permission for the Fleury family to return to France, was made out
+      in due form, and Maurice begged to be the messenger of these good tidings:&mdash;he
+      set out for England with the order.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Victoire immediately went down to the Château de Fleury, to get every
+      thing in readiness for the reception of the family.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country. Victoire
+      had but just time to complete her preparations, when M. and Mad. de Fleury
+      arrived at Calais. Victoire had assembled all her companions, all Mad. de
+      Fleury&rsquo;s former pupils; and the hour when she was expected home, they with
+      the peasants of the neighbourhood were all in their holiday clothes, and
+      according to the custom of the country singing and dancing. Without music
+      and dancing there is no perfect joy in France. Never was <i>fête du
+      village</i> or <i>fête du Seigneur</i> more joyful than this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old steward opened the gate&mdash;the carriage drove in. Mad. de
+      Fleury saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold; but
+      all other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved
+      pupils.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My children!&rdquo; cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got out
+      of her carriage&mdash;&ldquo;My dear <i>good</i> children!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire&rsquo;s arm as she went into
+      the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful excess of
+      pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
+      appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke, and
+      then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought their
+      childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was changed the
+      least, and at this she rejoiced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that Mad.
+      de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of a day. She
+      heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction, repeated accounts
+      of the good conduct of these young people during her absence. She learned
+      with delight how her restoration to her country and her fortune had been
+      effected; and is it necessary to add, that Victoire consented to marry
+      Basile, and that she was suitably portioned, and, what is better still,
+      that she was perfectly happy?&mdash;M. de Fleury rewarded the attachment
+      and good conduct of Maurice, by taking him into his service; and making
+      him his manager under the old steward at the Château de Fleury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On Victoire&rsquo;s wedding-day, Mad. de Fleury produced all the little
+      offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her companions
+      during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours, and she knew how
+      to confer them both with grace and judgment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No gratitude in human nature! No gratitude in the lower classes of the
+      people!&rdquo; cried she: &ldquo;how much those are mistaken who think so! I wish they
+      could know my history and the history of these <i>my children</i>, and
+      they would acknowledge their error.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <i>Edgeworthstown</i>, 1805.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      EMILIE DE COULANGES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am young, I am in good health.&rdquo; said Emilie de Coulanges; &ldquo;I am not to
+      be pitied. But my poor mamma, who has been used all her life to such
+      luxuries! And now to have only her Emilie to wait upon her! Her Emilie,
+      who is but an awkward <i>femme de chambre</i>! But she will improve, it
+      must be hoped; and as to the rest, things, which are now always changing,
+      and which cannot change for the worse, must soon infallibly change for the
+      better&mdash;and mamma will certainly recover all her property one of
+      these days. In the mean time (if mamma is tolerably well), we shall be
+      perfectly happy in England&mdash;that charming country, which, perhaps, we
+      should never have seen but for this terrible revolution!&mdash;Here we
+      shall assuredly find friends. The English are such good people!&mdash;Cold,
+      indeed, at first&mdash;that&rsquo;s their misfortune: but then the English
+      coldness is of manner, not of heart. Time immemorial, they have been
+      famous for making the best friends in the world; and even to us, who are
+      their <i>natural enemies</i>, they are generous in our distress. I have
+      heard innumerable instances of their hospitality to our emigrants; and
+      mamma will certainly not be the first exception. At her Hotel de
+      Coulanges, she always received the English with distinguished attention;
+      and though our hotel, with half Paris, has changed its name since those
+      days, the English have too good memories to forget it, I am sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By such speeches Emilie endeavoured to revive her mother&rsquo;s spirits. To a
+      most affectionate disposition and a feeling heart she joined all the
+      characteristic and constitutional gaiety of her nation; a gaiety which,
+      under the pressure of misfortune, merits the name of philosophy, since it
+      produces all the effects, and is not attended with any of the parade of
+      stoicism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie de Coulanges was a young French emigrant, of a noble family, and
+      heiress to a large estate; but the property of her family had been
+      confiscated during the revolution. She and her mother, la Comtesse de
+      Coulanges, made their escape to England. Mad. de Coulanges was in feeble
+      health, and much dispirited by the sudden loss of rank and fortune. Mlle.
+      de Coulanges felt the change more for her mother than for herself; she
+      always spoke of her mother&rsquo;s misfortunes, never of her own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon their arrival in London, Emilie, full of life and hope, went to
+      present some of her mother&rsquo;s letters of recommendation. One of them was
+      addressed to Mrs. Somers. Mlle. de Coulanges was particularly delighted by
+      the manner in which she was received by this lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No English coldness!&mdash;no English reserve!&mdash;So warm in her
+      expressions of kindness!&mdash;so eager in her offers of service!&rdquo; Emilie
+      could speak of nothing for the remainder of the day, but &ldquo;cette charmante
+      Mad. Somers!&rdquo; The next day, and the next, and the next, she found
+      increasing reasons to think her charming. Mrs. Somers exerted herself,
+      indeed, with the most benevolent activity, to procure for Mad. de
+      Coulanges every thing that could be convenient or agreeable. She prepared
+      apartments in her own house for the mother and daughter, which she
+      absolutely insisted upon their occupying immediately: she assured them
+      that they should not be treated as visitors, but as inmates and friends of
+      the family. She pressed her invitation with such earnestness, and so
+      politely urged her absolute right to show her remembrance of the
+      civilities which she had received at Paris, that there was no possibility
+      of persisting in a refusal. The pride of high birth would have revolted at
+      the idea of becoming dependent, but all such thoughts were precluded by
+      the manner in which Mrs. Somers spoke; and the Comtesse de Coulanges
+      accepted of the invitation, resolving, however, not to prolong her stay,
+      if affairs in her own country should not take a favourable turn. She
+      expected remittances from a Paris banker, with whom she had lodged a
+      considerable sum&mdash;all that could be saved in ready money, in jewels,
+      &amp;c. from the wreck of her fortune: with this sum, if she should find
+      all schemes of returning to France and recovering her property
+      impracticable, she determined to live, in some retired part of England, in
+      the most economical manner possible. But, in the mean time, as economy had
+      never been either her theory or her practice, and as she considered
+      retreat from <i>the world</i> as the worst thing, next to death, that
+      could befal a woman, she was glad to put off the evil hour. She
+      acknowledged that ill health made her look some years older than she
+      really was; but she could not think herself yet old enough to become <i>devout</i>;
+      and, till that crisis arrived, she, of course, would not willingly be
+      banished from <i>society</i>. So that, upon the whole, she was well
+      satisfied to find herself established in Mrs. Somers&rsquo;s excellent house;
+      where, but for the want of three antechambers, and of the Parisian
+      quantity of looking-glass on every side of every apartment, la comtesse
+      might have fancied herself at her own Hotel de Coulanges. Emilie would
+      have been better contented to have been lodged and treated with less
+      magnificence; but she rejoiced to see that her mother was pleased, and
+      that she became freer from her <i>vapeurs noirs</i><a href="#linknote-16"
+       name="linknoteref-16" id="linknoteref-16"><small>16</small></a>. Emilie
+      began to love Mrs. Somers for making her mother well and happy&mdash;to
+      love her with all the fearless enthusiasm of a young, generous mind, which
+      accepts of obligation without any idea that gratitude may become
+      burdensome. Mrs. Somers excited not only affection&mdash;she inspired
+      admiration. Capable of the utmost exertion and of the most noble
+      sacrifices for her friends, the indulgence of her generosity seemed not
+      only to be the greatest pleasure of her soul, but absolutely necessary to
+      her nature. To attempt to restrain her liberality was to provoke her
+      indignation, or to incur her contempt. To refuse her benefits was to
+      forfeit her friendship. She grew extremely fond of her present guests,
+      because, without resistance, they permitted her to load them with favours.
+      According to her custom, she found a thousand perfections in those whom
+      she obliged. She had considered la Comtesse de Coulanges, when she knew
+      her at Paris, as a very well-bred woman, but as nothing more; yet now she
+      discovered that Mad. de Coulanges had a superior understanding and great
+      strength of mind;&mdash;and Emilie, who had pleased her when a child, only
+      by the ingenuous sweetness of her disposition and vivacity of her manners,
+      was now become a complete angel&mdash;no angel had ever such a variety of
+      accomplishments&mdash;none but an angel could possess such a combination
+      of virtues. Mrs. Somers introduced her charming and noble emigrants to all
+      her numerous and fashionable acquaintance; and she would certainly have
+      quarrelled with any one who did not at least appear to sympathize in her
+      sentiments. Fortunately there was no necessity for quarrelling; these
+      foreigners were well received in every company, and Emilie pleased
+      universally; or, as Mad. de Coulanges expressed it, &ldquo;Elle avoit des grands
+      <i>succès</i> dans la société.&rdquo; The French comtesse herself could hardly
+      give more emphatic importance to the untranslateable word <i>succès</i>
+      than Mrs. Somers annexed to it upon this occasion. She was proud of
+      producing Emilie as her protégée; and the approbation of others increased
+      her own enthusiasm: much as she did for her favourite, she longed to do
+      more.&mdash;An opportunity soon presented itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One evening, after Mad. de Coulanges had actually tired herself with
+      talking to the crowd, which her vivacity, grace, and volubility had
+      attracted about her sofa, she ran to entrench herself in an arm-chair by
+      the fireside, sprinkled the floor round her with <i>eau de senteur</i>,
+      drew, with her pretty foot, a line of circumvallation, and then, shaking
+      her tiny fan at the host of assailants, she forbade them, under pain of
+      her sovereign displeasure, to venture within the magic circle, or to
+      torment her by one more question or compliment. It was now absolutely
+      necessary to be serious, and to study the politics of Europe. She called
+      for the French newspapers, which Mrs. Somers had on purpose for her; and,
+      provided with a pinch of snuff, from the ever-ready box of a French abbé,
+      whose arm was permitted to cross the line of demarcation, Mad. de
+      Coulanges began to study. Silence ensued&mdash;for novelty always produces
+      silence in the first instant of surprise. An English gentleman wrote on
+      the back of a letter an offer to his neighbour of a wager, that the
+      silence would be first broken by the French countess, and that it could
+      not last above two minutes. The wager was accepted, and watches were
+      produced. Before the two minutes had expired, the pinch of snuff dropped
+      from the countess&rsquo;s fingers, and, clasping her hands together, she
+      exclaimed, &ldquo;Ah! ciel!&rdquo;&mdash;The surrounding gentlemen, who were full of
+      their wager, and who had heard, from the lady, during the course of the
+      evening, at least a dozen exclamations of nearly equal vehemence about the
+      merest trifles, were more amused than alarmed at this instant: but Emilie,
+      who knew her mother&rsquo;s countenance, and who saw the sudden change in it,
+      pressed through the circle, and just caught her mother in her arms as she
+      fainted. Mrs. Somers, much alarmed, hastened to her assistance. The
+      countess was carried out of the room, and every body was full of pity and
+      of curiosity. When Mad. de Coulanges recovered from her fainting-fit, she
+      was seized with one of her nervous attacks; so that no explanation could
+      be obtained. Emilie and Mrs. Somers looked over the French paper, but
+      could not find any paragraph unusually alarming. At length, more composed,
+      the countess apologized for the disturbance which she had occasioned;
+      thanked Mrs. Somers repeatedly for her kindness; but spoke in a hurried
+      manner, as if she did not well know what she said. She concluded by
+      declaring that she was subject to these nervous attacks, that she should
+      be quite well the next morning, and that she did not wish that any one
+      should sit up with her during the night except Emilie, who was used to her
+      ways. With that true politeness which understands quickly the feelings and
+      wishes of others, Mrs. Somers forbore to make any ill-timed inquiries or
+      officious offers of assistance; but immediately retired, and ordered the
+      attendants to leave the room, that Mad. de Coulanges and her daughter
+      might be at perfect liberty. Early in the morning Mrs. Somers heard
+      somebody knock softly at her door. It was Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Masham told me that you were awake, madam, or I should not&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in, come in, my dearest Emilie&mdash;I am awake&mdash;wide awake. Is
+      your mother better?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! no, madam!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, my dear, and do not call me <i>madam</i>, so coldly.&mdash;I do
+      not deserve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear friend! friend of mamma! my dearest friend!&rdquo; cried Emilie,
+      bursting into tears, and seizing Mrs. Somers&rsquo; hand; &ldquo;do not accuse me of
+      coldness to you. I am always afraid that my French expressions should
+      sound exaggerated to English ears, and that you should think I say too
+      much to be sincere in expressing my gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sweet Emilie, who could doubt your sincerity?&mdash;none but a brute
+      or a fool: but do not talk to me of gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;for I feel it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prove it to me, then, in the manner I like best&mdash;in the only manner
+      I like&mdash;by putting it in my power to serve you. I do not intrude upon
+      your mother&rsquo;s confidence&mdash;I make no inquiries; but do me the justice
+      to tell me how I can be of use to her&mdash;or rather to you. From you I
+      expect frankness. Command my fortune, my time, my credit, my utmost
+      exertions&mdash;they are all, they ever have been, they ever shall be,
+      whilst I have life, at the command of my friends. And are not you my
+      friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Generous lady!&mdash;You overpower me with your goodness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No praises, no speeches!&mdash;Actions for me!&mdash;Tell me how I can
+      serve you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! <i>you</i>, even you, can do us no good in this business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I will never believe, till I know the business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The worst of it is,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;that we must leave you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave me! Impossible!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, starting up.&mdash;You shall
+      not leave me, that I am determined upon. Why cannot you speak out at once,
+      and tell me what is the matter, Emilie? How can I act, unless I am
+      trusted? and who deserves to be trusted by you, if I do not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly nobody deserves it better; and if it were only my affair, dear
+      Mrs. Somers, you should have known it as soon as I knew it myself; but it
+      is mamma&rsquo;s, more than mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame la comtesse, then, does not think me worthy of her confidence,&rdquo;
+       said Mrs. Somers, in a haughty tone, whilst displeasure clouded her whole
+      countenance. &ldquo;Is that what I am to understand from you, Mille. de
+      Coulanges?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; that is not what you are to understand, dear madam&mdash;my dear
+      friend, I should say,&rdquo; cried Emilie, alarmed. &ldquo;Certainly I have explained
+      myself ill, or you could not suspect mamma for a moment of such injustice.
+      She knows you to be most worthy of her confidence; but on this occasion
+      her reserve, believe me, proceeds solely from motives of delicacy, of
+      which you could not but approve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Motives of delicacy, my dear Emilie,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers, softening her
+      tone, but still with an air of dissatisfaction&mdash;&ldquo;motives of delicacy,
+      my dear Emilie, are mighty pretty sounding words; and at your age I used
+      to think them mighty grand things; but I have long since found out that <i>motives
+      of delicacy</i> are usually the excuse of weak minds for not speaking the
+      plain truth to their friends. People quit the straight path from motives
+      of delicacy, may be, to a worm or a beetle&mdash;vulgar souls, observe, I
+      rank only as worms and beetles; they cross our path every instant in life;
+      and those who fear to give them offence must deviate and deviate, till
+      they get into a labyrinth, from which they can never extricate themselves,
+      or be extricated. My Emilie, I am sure, will always keep the straight road&mdash;I
+      know her strength of mind. Indeed, I did expect strength of mind from her
+      mother; but, like all who have lived a great deal in the world, she is, I
+      find, a slave to motives of delicacy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma&rsquo;s delicacy is of a very different sort from what you describe, and
+      what you dislike,&rdquo; said Emilie. &ldquo;But, since persisting in her reserve
+      would, as I see, offend one whom she would be most sorry to displease, permit
+      me to go this moment and persuade her to let me tell you the simple
+      truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go&mdash;run, my dear. Now I know my Emilie again. Now I shall be able to
+      do some good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      By the time that Emilie returned, Mrs. Somers was dressed: she had dressed
+      in the greatest hurry imaginable, that she might be ready for action&mdash;instantaneous
+      action&mdash;if the service of her friends, as she hoped, required it.
+      Emilie brought the newspaper in her hand, which her mother had been
+      reading the preceding night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is all the mystery,&rdquo; said she, pointing to a paragraph which
+      announced the failure of a Paris banker. &ldquo;Mamma lodged all the money she
+      had left in this man&rsquo;s hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is that all?&mdash;I really expected something much more terrible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is terrible to mamma; because, depending on this man&rsquo;s punctuality,
+      she has bought in London clothes and trinkets&mdash;chiefly for me, indeed&mdash;and
+      she has no immediate means of paying these debts; but, if she will only
+      keep her mind tranquil, all will yet be well. You flatter me that I play
+      tolerably on the piano-forte and the harp; you will recommend me, and I
+      can endeavour to teach music. So that, if mamma will but be well, we shall
+      not be in any great distress&mdash;except in leaving you; that is painful,
+      but must be done. Yes, it absolutely must. Mamma knows what is proper, and
+      so do I. We are not people to encroach upon the generosity of our friends.
+      I need not say more; for I am sure that Mrs. Somers, who is herself so
+      well-born and well-educated, must understand and approve of mamma&rsquo;s way of
+      thinking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers replied not one word, but rang her bell violently&mdash;ordered
+      her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not you breakfast, madam, before you go out?&rdquo; said the servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a dish of chocolate, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My carriage, I tell you.&mdash;Emilie, you have been up all night: I
+      insist upon your going to bed this minute, and upon your sleeping till I
+      come back again. La comtesse always breakfasts in her own room; so I have
+      no apologies to make for leaving her. I shall be at home before her
+      toilette is finished, and hope she will then permit me to pay my respects
+      to her&mdash;you will tell her so, my dear. I must be gone instantly.&mdash;Why
+      will they not let me have this carriage?&mdash;Where are those gloves of
+      mine?&mdash;and the key of my writing-desk?&mdash;Ring again for the
+      coach.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Between the acting of a generous thing and the first motion, all the
+      interim was, with Mrs. Somers, a delicious phantasma; and her ideas of
+      time and distance were as extravagant as those of a person in a dream. She
+      very nearly ran over Emilie in her way down stairs, and then said, &ldquo;Oh! I
+      beg pardon a thousand times, my dear!&mdash;I thought you had been in bed
+      an hour ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The toilette of Mad. de Coulanges, this morning, went on at the usual
+      rate. Whether in adversity or prosperity, this was to la comtesse an
+      elaborate, but never a tedious work. Long as it had lasted, it was,
+      however, finished; and she had full leisure for a fit and a half of the
+      vapours, before Mrs. Somers returned&mdash;she came in with a face radiant
+      with joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fortunately, most fortunately,&rdquo; cried she, &ldquo;I have it in my power to
+      repair the loss occasioned by the failure of this good-for-nothing banker!
+      Nay, positively, Mad. de Coulanges, I must not be refused,&rdquo; continued she,
+      in a peremptory manner. &ldquo;You make an enemy, if you refuse a friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid a pocket-book on the table, and left the room instantly. The
+      pocket-book contained notes to a very considerable amount, surpassing the
+      sum which Mad. de Coulanges had lost by her banker; and on a scrap of
+      paper was written in pencil &ldquo;Mad. de Coulanges must never return this sum,
+      for it is utterly useless to Mrs. Somers; as the superfluities it was
+      appropriated to purchase are now in the possession of one who will not
+      sell them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Astonished equally at the magnitude and the manner of the gift, Mad. de
+      Coulanges repeated, a million of times, that it was &ldquo;noble! très noble!
+      une belle action!&rdquo;&mdash;that she could not possibly accept of such an
+      obligation&mdash;that she could not tell how to refuse it&mdash;that Mrs.
+      Somers was the most generous woman upon earth&mdash;that Mrs. Somers had
+      thrown her into a terrible embarrassment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then la comtesse had recourse to her smelling-bottle, consulted Emilie&rsquo;s
+      eyes, and answered them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Child! I have no thoughts of accepting; but I only ask you how I can
+      refuse, after what has been said, without making Mrs. Somers my enemy? You
+      see her humour&mdash;English humours must not be trifled with&mdash;her
+      humour, you see, is to give. It is a shocking thing for people of our
+      birth to be reduced to receive, but we cannot avoid it without losing Mrs.
+      Somers&rsquo; friendship entirely; and that is what you would not wish to do,
+      Emilie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now we must be under obligations to our milliner and jeweller, if we do
+      not pay them immediately; for these sort of people call it a favour to
+      give credit for a length of time: and I really think that it is much
+      better to be indebted to Mrs. Somers than to absolute strangers and to
+      rude tradespeople. It is always best to have to deal with polite persons.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And with generous persons!&rdquo; cried Emilie; &ldquo;and a more generous person
+      than Mrs. Somers, I am sure, cannot exist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then,&rdquo; continued Mad. de Coulanges, &ldquo;like all these rich English, she
+      can afford to be generous. I am persuaded that this Mrs. Somers is as rich
+      as a Russian princess; yes, as rich as the Russian princess with the
+      superb diadem of diamonds. You remember her at Paris?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, mamma, I forget her,&rdquo; answered Emilie, with a look of absence of
+      mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bon Dieu! what can you be thinking of?&rdquo; exclaimed Mad. de Coulanges. &ldquo;You
+      forget the Russian princess, with the diamond diadem, that was valued at
+      200,000 livres! She wore it at her presentation&mdash;it was the
+      conversation of Paris for a week: you must recollect it, Emilie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes: I recollect something about its cutting her forehead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all, my dear; how you exaggerate! The princess only complained, by
+      way of something to say, that the weight of the diamonds made her head
+      ache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was that all?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was all. But I will tell you what you are thinking of, Emilie&mdash;quite
+      another thing&mdash;quite another person&mdash;broad Mad.
+      Vanderbenbruggen: her diamonds were not worth looking at; and they were so
+      horribly set, that she deserved all manner of misfortunes, and to be
+      disgraced in public, as she was. For you know the bandeau slipt over her
+      great forehead; and instead of turning to the gentlemen, and ordering some
+      man of sense to arrange her head-dress, she kept holding her stiff neck
+      stock still, like an idiot; she actually sat, with the patience of a
+      martyr, two immense hours, till somebody cried, &lsquo;Ah! madame, here is the
+      blood coming!&rsquo; I see her before me this instant. Is it possible, my dear
+      Emilie, that you do not remember the difference between this <i>buche</i>
+      of a Mad. Vanderbenbruggen, and our charming princess? but you are as dull
+      as Mad. Vanderbenbruggen herself, this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The vivacious countess having once seized upon the ideas of Mad.
+      Vanderbenbruggen, the charming princess, and the fine diamonds, it was
+      some time before Emilie could recall her to the order of the day&mdash;to
+      the recollection of her banker&rsquo;s failure, and of the necessity of giving
+      an answer to generous Mrs. Somers. The decision of Mad. de Coulanges was
+      probably at last influenced materially by the gay ideas of &ldquo;stars and
+      dukes, and all their sweeping train,&rdquo; associated with Mad.
+      Vanderbenbruggen&rsquo;s image. The countess observed, that, after the style in
+      which she had been used to live in the first company at Paris, it would be
+      worse than death to be buried alive in some obscure country town in
+      England; and that she would rather see Emilie guillotined at once, than
+      condemned, with all her grace and talents, to work, like a galley slave,
+      at a tambour frame for her bread all the days of her life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie assured her mother that she should cheerfully submit to much
+      greater evils than that of working at a tambour frame; and that, as far as
+      her own feelings were concerned, she should infinitely prefer living by
+      labour to becoming dependent. She therefore intreated that her mother
+      might not, from any false tenderness for her Emilie, decide contrary to
+      her own principles or wishes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges, after looking in the glass, at length determined that
+      it would be best to accept of Mrs. Somers&rsquo; generous offer; and Emilie, who
+      usually contrived to find something agreeable in all her mother&rsquo;s
+      decisions, rejoiced that by this determination, Mrs. Somers at least would
+      be pleased. Mrs. Somers, indeed, was highly gratified; and her expressions
+      of satisfaction were so warm, that any body would have thought she was the
+      person receiving, instead of conferring, a great favour. She thanked
+      Emilie, in particular, for having vanquished her mother&rsquo;s false delicacy.
+      Emilie blushed at hearing this undeserved praise; and assured Mrs. Somers
+      that all the merit was her mother&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers hastily, &ldquo;was it contrary to your opinion?&mdash;Were
+      you treacherous&mdash;were you my enemy&mdash;Mlle. de Coulanges?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie replied that she had left the decision to her mother; that she
+      confessed she had felt some reluctance to receive a pecuniary obligation,
+      even from Mrs. Somers; but that she had rather be obliged to her than to
+      any body in the world, except to her mamma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This explanation was not perfectly satisfactory to Mrs. Somers, and there
+      was a marked coldness in her manner towards Emilie during the remainder of
+      the day. Her affectionate and grateful disposition made her extremely
+      sensible to this change; and, when she retired to her own room at night,
+      she sat down beside her bed, and shed tears for the first time since she
+      had been in England. Mrs. Somers happened to go into Emilie&rsquo;s room to
+      leave some message for Mad. de Coulanges&mdash;she found Emilie in tears&mdash;inquired
+      the cause&mdash;was touched and flattered by her sensibility&mdash;kissed
+      her&mdash;blamed herself&mdash;confessed she had been extremely
+      unreasonable&mdash;acknowledged that her temper was naturally too hasty
+      and susceptible, especially with those she loved&mdash;but assured Emilie
+      that this, which had been their first, should be their last quarrel;&mdash;a
+      rash promise, considering the circumstances in which they were both
+      placed. Those who receive and those who confer great favours are both in
+      difficult situations; but the part of the benefactor is the most difficult
+      to support with propriety. What a combination of rare qualities is
+      essential for this purpose! Amongst others, sense, delicacy and temper.
+      Mrs. Somers possessed all but the last; and, unluckily, she was not
+      sensible of the importance of this deficiency. Confident and proud, that,
+      upon all the grand occasions where the human heart is put to the trial,
+      she could display superior generosity, she disdained attention to the
+      minutiæ of kindness. This was inconvenient to her friends; because
+      occasion for a great sacrifice of the heart occurs, perhaps, but once in a
+      life, whilst small sacrifices of temper are requisite every day, and every
+      hour<a href="#linknote-17" name="linknoteref-17" id="linknoteref-17"><small>17</small></a>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers had concealed from Mad. de Coulanges and from Emilie the full
+      extent of their obligation: she told them, that the sum of money which she
+      offered had become useless to her, because it had been destined to the
+      purchase of some superfluities, which were now in the possession of
+      another person. The fact was, that she had been in treaty for two fine
+      pictures, a Guido and a Correggio; these pictures might have been hers,
+      but that on the morning, when she heard of the failure of the banker of
+      Mad. de Coulanges, she had hastened to prevent the money from being paid
+      for them. She was extremely fond of paintings, and had long and earnestly
+      desired to possess these celebrated pictures; so that she had really made
+      a great sacrifice of her taste and of her vanity. For some time she was
+      satisfied with her own self-complacent reflections: but presently she
+      began to be displeased that Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie did not see the
+      full extent of her sacrifice. She became provoked by their want of
+      penetration in not discovering all that she studiously concealed; and her
+      mind, going on rapidly from one step to another, decided that this want of
+      penetration arose from a deficiency of sensibility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day, some of her visitors, who were admiring the taste with which she
+      had newly furnished a room, inquired for what those two compartments were
+      intended, looking at the compartments which had been prepared for the
+      famous pictures. Mrs. Somers replied that she had not yet determined what
+      she should put there: she glanced her eye upon Mad. de Coulanges and upon
+      Emilie, to observe whether they <i>felt as they ought to do</i>. Mad. de
+      Coulanges, imagining that an appeal was made to her taste, decidedly
+      answered, that nothing would have so fine an effect as handsome
+      looking-glasses: &ldquo;Such,&rdquo; added she, &ldquo;as we have at Paris. No house is
+      furnished without them&mdash;they are absolute necessaries of life. And,
+      no doubt, these places were originally intended for mirrors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers, dryly, and with a look of great displeasure: &ldquo;No,
+      madame la comtesse, those places were not originally intended for
+      looking-glasses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The countess secretly despised Mrs. Somers for her want of taste; but,
+      being too well bred to dispute the point, she confessed that she was no
+      judge&mdash;that she knew nothing of the matter; and then immediately
+      turned to her abbé, and asked him if he remembered the superb mirrors in
+      Mad. de V&mdash;&mdash;&lsquo;s charming house on the Boulevards. &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; said
+      she, &ldquo;in my opinion one of the very best houses in Paris. There you enter
+      the principal apartments by an antechamber, such as you ought to see in a
+      great house, with real ottomanes, covered with buff trimmed with black
+      velvet; and then you pass through the spacious salle à manger and the
+      delightful saloon, hung with blue silk, to the <i>bijou</i> of a boudoir,
+      that looks out upon the garden, with the windows shaded by the most
+      beautiful flowering shrubs in summer, and in winter adorned with exotics.
+      Then you see, through the plate-glass door of the boudoir, into the
+      gallery of paintings&mdash;I call it a gallery, but it is, in fact, a
+      delightful room, not a gallery&mdash;where you are not to perish in cold,
+      whilst you admire the magnificence of the place. Not at all: it is warmed
+      by a large stove, and you may examine the fine pictures at your ease, or,
+      as you English would say, in comfort. This gallery must have cost M. de V&mdash;&mdash;
+      an immense sum. The connoisseurs say that it is really the best collection
+      of Flemish pictures in the possession of any individual in France.
+      By-the-bye, Mrs. Somers, there is, amongst others, an excellent Van Dyck,
+      a portrait of your Charles the First, when a boy, which I wonder that none
+      of you rich English have purchased.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The countenance of Mrs. Somers had clouded over more and more during this
+      speech; but the heedless countess went on, with her usual volubility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet, no doubt, M. de V&mdash;&mdash; would not sell this Van Dyck: but he
+      would, I am told, part with his superb collection of prints, which cost
+      him 30,000 of your pounds. He must look for a purchaser amongst those
+      Polish and Russian princes who have nothing to do with their riches&mdash;for
+      instance, my friend Lewenhof, who complained that he was not able to spend
+      half his income in Paris; that he could not contrive to give an
+      entertainment that cost him money enough. What can he do better than
+      commence amateur?&mdash;then he might throw away money as fast as his
+      heart could wish. M. l&rsquo;abbé, why do not you, or some man of letters, write
+      directly, and advise him to this, for the good of his country? What a
+      figure those prints would make in Petersburgh!&mdash;and how they would
+      polish the Russians! But, as a good Frenchwoman, I ought to wish them to
+      remain at Paris: they certainly cannot be better than where they are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;True,&rdquo; cried Emilie, &ldquo;they cannot be better than where they are, in the
+      possession of those generous friends. I used to love to see Mad. de V&mdash;&mdash;
+      in the midst of all her fine things, of which she thought so little. Her
+      very looks are enough to make one happy&mdash;all radiant with
+      good-humoured benevolence. I am sure one might always salute Mad. de V&mdash;&mdash;
+      with the Chinese compliment, &lsquo;Felicity is painted in your countenance.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was a compliment which could not be paid to Mrs. Somers at the
+      present instant; for her countenance was as little expressive of felicity
+      as could well be imagined. Emilie, who suddenly turned and saw it, was so
+      much struck that she became immediately silent. There was a dead pause in
+      the conversation. Mad. de Coulanges was the only unembarrassed person in
+      company; she was very contentedly arranging her hair upon her forehead
+      opposite to a looking-glass. Mrs. Somers broke the silence by observing,
+      that, in her opinion, there was no occasion for more mirrors in this room;
+      and she added, in a voice of suppressed anger, &ldquo;I did originally intend to
+      have filled those unfortunate blanks with something more to my taste.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges was too much occupied with her ringlets to hear or heed
+      this speech. Mrs. Somers fixed her indignant eyes upon Emilie, who,
+      perceiving that she was offended, yet not knowing by what, looked
+      embarrassed, and simply answered, &ldquo;Did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This reply, which seemed as neutral as words could make it, and which was
+      uttered not only with a pacific, but with an intimidated tone, incensed
+      Mrs. Somers beyond measure. It put the finishing stroke to the whole
+      conversation. All that had been said about elegant houses&mdash;antechambers&mdash;mirrors&mdash;pictures&mdash;amateurs&mdash;throwing
+      away money; and the generous Mad. de V&mdash;&mdash;, <i>who was always
+      good-humoured</i>, Mrs. Somers fancied was meant <i>for her</i>. She
+      decided that it was absolutely impossible that Emilie could be so stupid
+      as not to have perfectly understood that the compartments had been
+      prepared for the Guido and Correggio, which she had so generously
+      sacrificed; and the total want of feeling&mdash;of common civility&mdash;evinced
+      by Emilie&rsquo;s reply, was astonishing, was incomprehensible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The more she reflected upon the words, the more of artifice, of duplicity,
+      of ingratitude, of insult, of meanness she discovered in them. In her cold
+      fits of ill-humour, this lady was prone to degrade, as monsters below the
+      standard of humanity, those whom, in the warmth of her enthusiasm, she had
+      exalted to the state of angelic perfection. Emilie, though aware that she
+      had unwittingly offended, was not aware how low she had sunk in her
+      friend&rsquo;s opinion: she endeavoured, by playful wit and caresses, to atone
+      for her fault, and to reinstate herself in her favour. But playful wit and
+      caresses were aggravating crimes; they were proofs of obstinacy in deceit,
+      of a callous conscience, and of a heart that was not to be touched by the
+      marked displeasure of a benefactress. Three days and three nights did the
+      displeasure of Mrs. Somers continue in full force, and manifest itself by
+      a variety of signs, which were lost upon Mad. de Coulanges, but which were
+      all intelligible to poor Emilie. She made several attempts to bring on an
+      explanation, by saying, &ldquo;Are you not well?&mdash;Is any thing the matter,
+      dear Mrs. Somers?&rdquo; But these questions were always coldly answered by, &ldquo;I
+      am perfectly well, I thank you, Mlle. de Coulanges&mdash;why should you
+      imagine that any thing is the matter with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the end of the third day of reprobation, Emilie, who could no longer
+      endure this state, resolved to take courage and to ask pardon for her
+      unknown offence. That night she went, trembling like a real criminal, into
+      Mrs. Somers&rsquo; dressing-room, kissed her forehead, and said, &ldquo;I hope you
+      have not such a headache as I have?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you the headache?&mdash;I am sorry for it,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers; &ldquo;but
+      you should take something for it&mdash;what will you take?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will take nothing, except&mdash;your forgiveness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My forgiveness!&mdash;you astonish me, Mlle. de Coulanges! I am sure that
+      I ought to ask yours, if I have said a word that could possibly give you
+      reason to imagine I am angry&mdash;I really am not conscious of any such
+      thing; but if you will point it out to me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot imagine that I come to accuse you, dear Mrs. Somers; I do not
+      attempt even to justify myself: I am convinced that, if you are
+      displeased, it cannot be without reason.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But still you do not tell me how I have shown this violent displeasure: I
+      have not, to the best of my recollection, said an angry or a hasty word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but when we love people, we know when they are offended, without
+      their saying a hasty word&mdash;your manner has been so different towards
+      me these three days past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My manner is very unfortunate. It is impossible always to keep a guard
+      over our manners: it is sufficient, I think, to guard our words.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray do not guard either with me,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;for I would a thousand
+      times rather that a friend should say or look the most angry things, than
+      that she should conceal from me what she thought; for then, you know, I
+      might displease her continually without knowing it, and perhaps lose her
+      esteem and affection irretrievably, before I was aware of my danger&mdash;and
+      with <i>you</i>&mdash;with you, to whom we owe so much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Touched by the feeling manner in which Emilie spoke, and by the artless
+      expression of her countenance, Mrs. Somers&rsquo; anger vanished, and she
+      exclaimed, &ldquo;I have been to blame&mdash;I ask your pardon, Emilie&mdash;I
+      have been much to blame&mdash;I have been very unjust&mdash;very
+      ill-humoured&mdash;I see I was quite wrong&mdash;I see that I was quite
+      mistaken in what I imagined.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what did you imagine?&rdquo; said Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>That</i> you must excuse me from telling,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers; &ldquo;I am too
+      much ashamed of it&mdash;too much ashamed of myself. Besides, it was a
+      sort of thing that I could not well explain, if I were to set about it; in
+      short, it was the silliest trifle in the world: but I assure you that if I
+      had not loved you very much, I should not have been so foolishly angry.
+      You must forgive these little infirmities of temper&mdash;you know my
+      heart is as it should be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie embraced Mrs. Somers affectionately; and, in her joy at this
+      reconciliation, and in the delight she felt at being relieved from the
+      uneasiness which she had suffered for three days, loved her friend the
+      better for this quarrel: she quite forgot the pain in the pleasure of the
+      reconciliation; and thought that, even if Mrs. Somers had been in the
+      wrong, the candour with which she acknowledged it more than made amends
+      for the error.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must forgive these little infirmities of temper&mdash;you know my
+      heart is as it should be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie repeated these words, and said to herself, &ldquo;Forgive them! yes,
+      surely; I should be the most ungrateful of human beings if I did
+      otherwise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without being the most ungrateful of human beings, Emilie, however, found
+      it very difficult to keep her resolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost every day she felt the apprehension or the certainty of having
+      offended her benefactress: and the causes by which she gave offence were
+      sometimes so trifling as to elude her notice; so mysterious, that they
+      could not be discovered; or so various and anomalous, that, even when she
+      was told in what manner she had displeased, she could not form any rule,
+      or draw any inference, for her future conduct. Sometimes she offended by
+      differing, sometimes by agreeing, in taste or opinion with Mrs. Somers.
+      Sometimes she perceived that she was thought positive; at other times, too
+      complying. A word, a look, or even silence&mdash;passive silence&mdash;was
+      sufficient to affront this susceptible lady. Then she would go on with a
+      string of deductions, or rather of imaginations, to prove that there must
+      be something wrong in Emilie&rsquo;s disposition; and she would insist upon it,
+      that she knew better what was passing, or what would pass, in her mind,
+      than Emilie could know herself. Nothing provoked Mrs. Somers more than the
+      want of success in any of her active attempts to make others happy. She
+      was continually angry with Emilie for not being sufficiently pleased or
+      grateful for things which she had not the vanity to suspect were intended
+      for her gratification, or which were not calculated to contribute to her
+      amusement: this humility, or this difference of taste, was always
+      considered as affectation or perversity. One day, Mrs. Somers was angry
+      with Emilie because she did not thank her for inviting a celebrated singer
+      to her concert; but Emilie had no idea that the singer was invited on her
+      account: of this nothing could convince Mrs. Somers. Another day, she was
+      excessively displeased because Emilie was not so much entertained as she
+      had expected her to be at the installation of a knight of the garter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mad. de Coulanges expressed a wish to see the ceremony of the
+      installation; and, though I hate such things myself, I took prodigious
+      pains to procure tickets, and to have you well placed&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, I was very sensible of it, dear madam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May be so, my dear; but you did not look as if you were: you seemed tired
+      to death, and said you were sleepy; and ten times repeated, &lsquo;Ah! qu&rsquo;il
+      fait chaud!&rsquo; But this is what I am used to&mdash;what I have experienced
+      all my life. The more pains a person takes to please and oblige, the less
+      they can succeed, and the less gratitude they are to expect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie reproached herself, and resolved that, upon the next similar trial,
+      she would not complain of being sleepy or tired; and that she would take
+      particular care not to say&mdash;&ldquo;Ah! qu&rsquo;il fait chaud!&rdquo; A short time
+      afterwards she was in a crowded assembly, at the house of a friend of Mrs.
+      Somers, a <i>rout</i>&mdash;a species of entertainment of which she had
+      not seen examples in her own country (it appeared to her rather a
+      barbarous mode of amusement, to meet in vast crowds, to squeeze or to be
+      squeezed, without a possibility of enjoying any rational conversation).
+      Emilie was fatigued, and almost fainting, from the heat, but she bore it
+      all with a smiling countenance, and heroic gaiety; for this night she was
+      determined not to displease Mrs. Somers. On their return home, she was
+      rather surprised and disappointed to find this lady in a fit of extreme
+      ill-humour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wanted to get away two hours ago,&rdquo; cried she; &ldquo;but you would not
+      understand any of my hints, Mlle. de Coulanges; and when I asked you
+      whether you did not find it very hot, you persisted in saying, &lsquo;Not in the
+      least&mdash;not in the least.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers was the more angry upon this occasion, because she recollected
+      having formerly reproached Emilie, at the installation, for complaining of
+      the heat; and she persuaded herself, that this was an instance of
+      perversity in Emilie&rsquo;s temper, and a sly method of revenging herself for
+      the past. Nothing could be more improbable, from a girl of such a frank,
+      forgiving, sweet disposition; and no one would have been so ready to say
+      so as Mrs. Somers in another mood; but the moment that she was irritated,
+      she judged without common sense&mdash;never from general observations, but
+      always from particular instances. It was in vain that Emilie disclaimed
+      the motives attributed to her: she was obliged to wait the return of her
+      friend&rsquo;s reason, and in the mean time to bear her reproaches&mdash;she did
+      with infinite patience. Unfortunately this patience soon became the source
+      of fresh evils. Because Emilie was so gentle, and so ready to acknowledge
+      and to believe herself to be in the wrong, Mrs. Somers became convinced
+      that she herself was in the right in all her complaints; and she fancied
+      that she had great merit in passing over so many defects in one whom she
+      had so much obliged, and who professed so much gratitude. Between the fits
+      of her ill-humour, she would, however, waken to the full sense of Emilie&rsquo;s
+      goodness, and would treat her with particular kindness, as if to make
+      amends for the past. Then, if Emilie could not immediately resume that
+      easy, gay familiarity of manner, which she used to have before experience
+      had taught her the fear of offending, Mrs. Somers grew angry again and
+      decided that Emilie had not sufficient elevation of soul to understand her
+      character, or to forgive the <i>little infirmities</i> of the best of
+      friends. When she was under the influence of this suspicion, every thing
+      that Emilie said or looked was confirmation strong. Mrs. Somers was apt in
+      conversation to throw out general reflections that were meant to apply to
+      particular persons; or to speak with one meaning obvious to all the
+      company, and another to be understood only by some individual whom she
+      wished to reproach. This art, which she had often successfully practised
+      upon Emilie, she, for that reason, suspected that Emilie tried upon her.
+      And then the utmost ingenuity was employed to torture words into strange
+      meanings: she would misinterpret the plainest expressions, or attribute to
+      them some double, mysterious signification.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One evening Emilie had been reading a new novel, the merits of which were
+      eagerly discussed by the company. Some said that the heroine was a fool:
+      others, that she was a mad woman; some, that she was not either, but that
+      she acted as if she were both; another party asserted that she was every
+      thing that was great and good, and that it was impossible to paint in
+      truer colours the passion of love. Mrs. Somers declared herself of this
+      opinion; but Emilie, who happened not to be present when this declaration
+      was made, on coming into the room and joining in the conversation, gave a
+      diametrically opposite judgment: she said, that the author had painted the
+      enthusiasm with which the heroine yielded to her passion, instead of the
+      violence of the passion to which she yielded. The French abbé, to whom
+      Emilie made this observation, repeated it triumphantly to Mrs. Somers, who
+      immediately changed colour, and replied in a constrained voice, &ldquo;Certainly
+      that is a very apposite remark, and vastly well expressed; and I give
+      Mlle. de Coulanges infinite credit for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie, who knew every inflection of Mrs. Somers&rsquo; voice, and every turn of
+      her countenance, perceived that these words of praise were accompanied
+      with strong feelings of displeasure. She was much embarrassed, especially
+      as her friend fixed her eyes upon her whilst she blushed; and this made
+      her blush ten times more: she was afraid that the company, who were
+      silent, should take notice of her distress; and therefore she went on
+      talking very fast about the novel, though scarcely knowing what she said.
+      She made sundry blunders in names and characters, which were eagerly
+      corrected by the astonished Mad. de Coulanges, who could not conceive how
+      any body could forget the dramatis personæ of the novel of the day. Mrs.
+      Somers, all the time, preserved silence, as if she dared not trust herself
+      to speak; but her compressed lips showed sufficiently the constraint under
+      which she laboured. Whilst every body else went on talking, and helping
+      themselves to refreshments which the servants were handing about, Mrs.
+      Somers continued leaning on the mantel-piece in a deep reverie, pulling
+      her bracelet round and round upon her wrist, till she was roused by Mad.
+      de Coulanges, who appealed for judgment upon her new method of preparing
+      an orange.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;C&rsquo;est à la corbeille&mdash;Tenez!&rdquo; cried she, holding it by a slender
+      handle of orange-peel; &ldquo;Tenez! c&rsquo;est à la corbeille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers, with a forced smile admired the orange-basket; but said,
+      that, for her part, her hands were not sufficiently dexterous to imitate
+      this fashion: &ldquo;I,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;can only do like the king of Prussia and <i>other
+      people</i>&mdash;squeeze the orange, and throw the peel away. By-the-bye,
+      how absurd it was of Voltaire to be angry with the king of Prussia for
+      that witty and just apologue!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Just!</i>&rdquo; repeated Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just!&rdquo; reiterated Mrs. Somers, in a harsh voice: &ldquo;surely you think it so.
+      For my part, I like the king the better for avowing his principles&mdash;all
+      the world act as he did, though few avow it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; said Emilie, in a low voice, &ldquo;do not you believe in the reality of
+      gratitude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Apparently,&rdquo; cried Mad. de Coulanges, who was still busy with her orange,
+      &ldquo;apparently, madame is a disciple of our Rochefoucault, and allows of no
+      principle but self-love. In that case, I shall have as bitter quarrels
+      with her as I have with you, mon cher abbé;&mdash;for Rochefoucault is a
+      man I detest, or rather, I detest his maxims&mdash;the duke himself, they
+      say, was the most amiable man of his day. Only conceive, that such a man
+      should ascribe all our virtues to self-love and vanity!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And, perhaps,&rdquo; said the abbé, &ldquo;it was merely vanity that made him say so&mdash;he
+      wished to write a witty satirical book; but I will lay a wager he did not
+      think as ill of human nature as he speaks of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He could hardly speak or think too ill of it,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;if he
+      judged of human nature by such speeches as that of the king of Prussia
+      about his friend and the orange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; said Emilie, in a timid voice, &ldquo;would it not be doing poor human
+      nature injustice to judge of it by such words as those? I am convinced,
+      with M. l&rsquo;abbé, that some men, for the sake of appearing witty, speak more
+      malevolently than they feel; and, perhaps, this was the case with the king
+      of Prussia.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Mlle. de Coulanges thinks, then,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;that it is quite
+      allowable, for the sake of appearing witty, to speak malevolently?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear madam! dear Mrs. Somers!&mdash;no!&rdquo; cried Emilie; &ldquo;you quite
+      misunderstood me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, I thought you were justifying the king of Prussia,&rdquo; continued
+      Mrs. Somers; &ldquo;and I do not well see how that can be done without allowing&mdash;what
+      many people do in practice, though not in theory&mdash;that it is right,
+      and becoming, and prudent, to sacrifice a friend for a bon-mot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The angry emphasis, and pointed manner, in which Mrs. Somers spoke these
+      words, terrified and completely abashed Emilie, who saw that something
+      more was meant than met the ear. In her confusion she ran over a variety
+      of thoughts; but she could not recollect any thing that she had ever said,
+      which merited the name of a bon-mot&mdash;and a malevolent bon-mot!
+      &ldquo;Surely what I said about that foolish novel cannot have offended Mrs.
+      Somers?&mdash;How is it possible!&mdash;She cannot be so childish as to be
+      angry with me merely for differing with her in opinion. What I said might
+      be bad criticism, but it could not be malevolent; it referred only to the
+      heroine of a novel. Perhaps the author may be a friend of hers, or some
+      person who is in distress, and whom she has generously taken under her
+      protection. Why did not I think of this before?&mdash;I was wrong to give
+      my opinion so decidedly: but then my opinion is of so little consequence;
+      assuredly it can neither do good nor harm to any author. When Mrs. Somers
+      considers this, she will be pacified; and when she is once cool again, she
+      will feel that I could not mean to say any thing ill-natured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The moment Mrs. Somers saw that Emilie was sensible of her displeasure,
+      she exerted herself to assume, during the remainder of the evening, an
+      extraordinary appearance of gaiety and good-humour. Every body shared her
+      smiles and kindness, except the unfortunate object of her indignation: she
+      behaved towards Mlle. de Coulanges with the most punctilious politeness;
+      but &ldquo;all the cruel language of the eye&rdquo; was sufficiently expressive of her
+      real feelings. Emilie bore with this infirmity of temper with resolute
+      patience: she expected that the fit would last only till she could ask for
+      an explanation; and she followed Mrs. Somers, as was her usual custom upon
+      such occasions, to her room at night, in order to assert her innocence.
+      Mrs. Somers walked into her room in a reverie, without perceiving that she
+      was followed by Emilie&mdash;threw herself into a chair&mdash;and gave a
+      deep sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, my dear friend?&rdquo; Emilie began; but, on hearing the
+      sound of her voice, Mrs. Somers started up with sudden anger; then,
+      constraining herself, she said, &ldquo;Pardon me, Mlle. de Coulanges, if I tell
+      you that I really am tired to-night&mdash;body and mind&mdash;I wish to
+      have rest for both if possible&mdash;would you be so very obliging as to
+      pull that bell for Masham?&mdash;I wish you a very good night.&mdash;I
+      hope Mad. de Coulanges will have her ass&rsquo;s milk at the proper hour
+      to-morrow&mdash;I have given particular orders for that purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your kindness to mamma, dear Mrs. Somers,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;has been
+      invariable, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Spare me, I beseech you, Mlle. de Coulanges, all these <i>grateful
+      speeches</i>&mdash;I really am not prepared to hear them with temper
+      to-night. Were you so good as to ring that bell&mdash;or will you give me
+      leave to ring it myself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you insist upon it,&rdquo; said Emilie, gently withholding the tassel of the
+      bell; &ldquo;but if you would grant me five minutes&mdash;one minute&mdash;you
+      might perhaps save yourself and me a sleepless night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers, incapable of longer commanding her passion, made no reply,
+      but snatched the bell-rope, and rang violently&mdash;Emilie let go the
+      tassel and withdrew. She heard Mrs. Somers say to herself, as she left the
+      room&mdash;&ldquo;This is too much&mdash;too much&mdash;really too much!&mdash;hypocrisy
+      I cannot endure.&mdash;Any thing but hypocrisy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These words hurt Emilie more than any thing Mrs. Somers had ever said: her
+      own indignation was roused, and she was upon the point of returning to
+      vindicate herself; but gratitude, if not prudence, conquered her
+      resentment: she recollected her promise to bear with the temper of her
+      benefactress; she recollected all Mrs. Somers&rsquo; kindness to her mother; and
+      quietly retired to her room, determining to wait till morning for a more
+      favourable opportunity to speak.&mdash;After passing a restless night, and
+      dreaming the common dream of falling down precipices, and the uncommon
+      circumstance of dragging Mrs. Somers after her by a bell-rope, she wakened
+      to the confused, painful remembrance of all that had passed the preceding
+      evening. She was anxious to obtain admittance to Mrs. Somers as soon as
+      she was dressed; but Masham informed her that her lady had given
+      particular orders that she should &ldquo;<i>not be disturbed</i>.&rdquo; When Mrs.
+      Somers made her appearance late at breakfast, there was the same forced
+      good-humour in her countenance towards the company in general, and the
+      same punctilious politeness towards Emilie, which had before appeared. She
+      studiously avoided all opportunity of explaining herself; and every
+      attempt of Emilie&rsquo;s towards a reconciliation, either by submissive
+      gentleness or friendly familiarity, was disregarded, or noticed with cold
+      disdain. Yet all this was visible only to her; for every body else
+      observed that Mrs. Somers was in remarkably good spirits, and in the most
+      actively obliging humour imaginable. After breakfast she proposed and
+      arranged various parties of pleasure: she went with Mad. de Coulanges to
+      pay several visits; a large company dined with her; and at night she went
+      to a concert. In the midst of these apparent amusements, Emilie was made
+      as unhappy as the marked, yet mysterious, displeasure of a benefactress
+      could render a person of real sensibility. As she did not wish to expose
+      herself to a second repulse, she forbore to follow Mrs. Somers to her room
+      at night; but she sent her this note by Mrs. Masham.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;I have done or said something to offend you, dear Mrs. Somers.
+    If you knew how much pain I have felt from your displeasure, I am
+    sure you would explain to me what it can be. Is it possible that
+    my differing in opinion from you about the heroine of the novel
+    can have offended you?&mdash;Perhaps the author of the book is a friend
+    of yours, or under your protection. Be assured, that if this be
+    the case, I did not in the least suspect it at the time I made the
+    criticism. Perhaps it was this to which you alluded when you said
+    that the King of Prussia was not the only person who would not
+    hesitate to sacrifice a friend for a bon-mot. What injustice you
+    do me by such an idea! I will not here say one word about my
+    gratitude or my affection, lest you should again reproach me with
+    hypocrisy&mdash;any thing else I am able to bear. Pray write, if you
+    will not speak to me.
+
+    &ldquo;EMILIE.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When Emilie was just falling asleep, Masham came into her room with a note
+      in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mademoiselle, I am sorry to waken you; but my mistress thought you would
+      not sleep, unless you read this note to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie started up in her bed, and read the following <i>note</i> of four
+      pages.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Yes I will write, because I am ashamed to speak to you, my dear
+    Emilie. I beg your pardon for pulling the bell-cord so violently
+    from your hand last night&mdash;you must have thought me quite
+    ill-bred; and still more, I reproach myself for what I said about
+    <i>hypocracy</i>&mdash;You have certainly the sweetest and gentlest temper
+    imaginable&mdash;would to Heaven I had! But the strength of my feelings
+    absolutely runs away with me. It is the doom of persons of great
+    sensibility to be both unreasonable and unhappy; and often, alas!
+    to involve in their misery those for whom they have the most
+    enthusiastic affection. You see, my dear Emilie, the price you
+    must pay for being my friend; but you have strength of mind
+    joined to a feeling heart, and you will bear with my defects.
+    Dissimulation is not one of them. In spite of all my efforts, I
+    find it is impossible ever to conceal from you any of even my most
+    unreasonable fancies&mdash;your note, which is so characteristically
+    frank and artless, has opened my eyes to my own folly. I must show
+    you that, when I am in my senses, I do you justice. You deserve to
+    be treated with perfect openness; therefore, however humiliating
+    the explanation, I will confess to you the real cause of my
+    displeasure. When you spoke of the heroine of this foolish novel,
+    what you said was so applicable to some part of my own history
+    and character, that I could not help suspecting you had heard the
+    facts from a person with whom you spent some hours lately; and I
+    was much hurt by your alluding to them in such a severe and public
+    manner. You will ask me, how I could conceive you to be capable of
+    such unprovoked malevolence: and my answer is, &lsquo;I cannot tell;&rsquo; I
+    can only say, such is the effect of the unfortunate susceptibility
+    of my heart, or, to speak more candidly, of my temper. I confess
+    I cannot, in these particulars, alter my nature. Blame me as much
+    as I blame myself; be as angry as you please, or as you can, my
+    gentle friend: but at last you must pity and forgive me.
+
+    &ldquo;Now that all this affair is off my mind, I can sleep in peace:
+    and so, I hope, will you, my dear Emilie&mdash;Good night! If
+    friends never quarrelled, they would never taste the joys of
+    reconciliation. Believe me,
+
+    &ldquo;Your ever sincere and affectionate
+
+    &ldquo;A. SOMERS.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      No one tasted the joys of reconciliation more than Emilie; but, after
+      reiterated experience, she was inclined to believe that they cannot
+      balance the evils of quarrelling. Mrs. Somers was one of those, who
+      &ldquo;confess their faults, but never mend;&rdquo; and who expect, for this
+      gratuitous candour, more applause than others would claim for the real
+      merit of reformation. So far did this lady carry her admiration of her own
+      candour, that she was actually upon the point of quarrelling with Emilie
+      again, the next morning, because she did not seem sufficiently sensible of
+      the magnanimity with which she had confessed herself to be ill-tempered.
+      These few specimens are sufficient to give an idea of this lady&rsquo;s powers
+      of tormenting; but, to form an adequate notion of their effect upon
+      Emilie&rsquo;s spirits, we must conceive the same sort of provocations to be
+      repeated every day, for several months. Petty torments, incessantly
+      repeated, exhaust the most determined patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this time, Mad. de Coulanges went on very smoothly with Mrs. Somers;
+      for she had not Emilie&rsquo;s sensibility; and, notwithstanding her great
+      quickness, a hundred things might pass, and did pass, before her eyes,
+      without her seeing them. She examined no farther than the surface; and,
+      provided that there was not any deficiency of those <i>little attentions</i>
+      to which she had been accustomed, it never occurred to her that a friend
+      could be more or less pleased: she did not understand or study
+      physiognomy; a smile of the lips was, to her, always a sufficient token of
+      approbation; and, whether it were merely conventional, or whether it came
+      from the heart, she never troubled herself to inquire. Provided that she
+      saw at dinner the usual <i>couverts</i>, and that she had a sufficient
+      number of people to converse with, or rather to talk to, she was satisfied
+      that every thing was right. All the variations in Mrs. Somers&rsquo; temper were
+      unmarked by her, or went under the general head, <i>vapeurs noirs</i>.
+      This species of ignorance, or confidence, produced the best effects; for
+      as Mrs. Somers could not, without passing the obvious bounds of
+      politeness, make Mad. de Coulanges sensible of her displeasure, and as she
+      had the utmost respect for the countess&rsquo;s opinion of her good breeding,
+      she was, to a certain degree, compelled to command her temper. Mad. de
+      Coulanges often, without knowing it, tried it terribly, by differing from
+      her in taste and judgment, and by supporting her own side of the question
+      with all the enthusiastic volubility of the French language. Sometimes the
+      English and French music were compared&mdash;sometimes the English and
+      French painters; and every time the theatre was mentioned, Mad. de
+      Coulanges pronounced an eulogium on her favourite French actors, and
+      triumphed over the comparison between the elegance of the French, and the
+      <i>grossièreté</i> of the English taste for comedy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heaven!&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;your fashionable comedies would be too absurd to
+      make the lowest of our audiences at the Boulevards laugh; you have
+      excluded sentiment and wit, and what have you in their place? Characters
+      out of drawing and out of nature; grotesque figures, such as you see in a
+      child&rsquo;s magic lantern. Then you talk of English humour&mdash;I wish I
+      could understand it; but I cannot be diverted with seeing a tailor turned
+      gentleman pricking his father with a needle, or a man making grimaces over
+      a jug of sour beer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers, piqued perhaps by the justice of some of these observations,
+      would dryly answer, that it was impossible for a foreigner to comprehend
+      English humour&mdash;that she believed the French, in particular, were
+      destitute of taste for humour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges insisted upon it, that the French have humour; and
+      Molière furnished her with many admirable illustrations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie, in support of her mother, read a passage from that elegant writer,
+      M. Suard<a href="#linknote-18" name="linknoteref-18" id="linknoteref-18"><small>18</small></a>,
+      who has lately attacked, with much ability, the pretensions of the English
+      to the exclusive possession of humour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers then changed her ground, and inveighed against French tragedy,
+      and the unnatural tones and attitudes of the French tragic actors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your heroes on the French stage,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;always look over their right
+      shoulders, to express magnanimous disdain; and a lover, whether he be
+      Grecian or Roman, Turk, Israelite, or American, must regularly show his
+      passion by the pompous emphasis with which he pronounces the word MADAME!&mdash;a
+      word which must certainly have, for a French audience, some magical charm,
+      incomprehensible to other nations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      What was yet more incomprehensible to Mad. de Coulanges, was the
+      enthusiasm of the English for that bloody-minded barbarian Shakspeare, who
+      is never satisfied till he has strewn the stage with dead bodies; who
+      treats his audience like children, that are to be frightened out of their
+      wits by ghosts of all sorts and sizes in their winding sheets; or by a set
+      of old beggarmen, dressed in women&rsquo;s clothes, armed with broomsticks, and
+      dancing and howling out their nonsensical song round a black kettle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers, smiling as in scorn, would only reply, &ldquo;Madame la comtesse,
+      yours is Voltaire&rsquo;s Shakspeare, not ours.&mdash;Have you read Mrs.
+      Montagu&rsquo;s essay upon Shakspeare?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then positively you must read it before we say one word more upon the
+      subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges, though unwilling to give up the pleasure of talking,
+      took the book, which Mrs. Somers pressed upon her, with a promise to read
+      it through some morning; but, unluckily, she chanced to open it towards
+      the end, and happened to see some animadversions upon Racine, by which she
+      was so astonished and disgusted that she could read no more. She threw
+      down the book, defying <i>any good critic to point out a single bad line
+      in Racine</i>. &ldquo;This is a defiance I have heard made by men of letters of
+      the highest reputation in Paris,&rdquo; added la comtesse: &ldquo;have not you, Mons.
+      l&rsquo;Abbé?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The abbé, who was madame&rsquo;s common voucher, acceded, with this slight
+      emendation&mdash;that he had heard numbers defy any critic of good taste
+      to point out a flat line in <i>Phædre</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers would, perhaps, have acknowledged the beauties of Phædre, if
+      she had not been piqued by this defiance; but exaggeration on one side
+      produced injustice on the other: and these disputes about Racine and
+      Shakspeare were continually renewed, and never ended to the satisfaction
+      of either party. Those who will not make allowances for national
+      prejudice, and who do not consider how much all our tastes are influenced
+      by early education, example, and the accidental association of ideas, may
+      dispute for ever without coming to any conclusion; especially, if they
+      avoid stating any distinct proposition; if each of the combatants sets up
+      a standard of his own, as the universal standard of taste; and if, instead
+      of arguments, both parties have recourse to wit and ridicule. In these
+      skirmishes, however, Mad. de Coulanges, though apparently the most eager
+      for victory, never seriously lost her temper&mdash;her eagerness was more
+      of manner than of mind; after pleading the cause of Racine, as if it were
+      a matter of life and death, as if the fate of Europe or the universe
+      depended upon it, she would turn to discuss the merits of a riband with
+      equal vehemence, or coolly observe that she was hoarse, and that she would
+      quit Racine for a better thing&mdash;<i>de l&rsquo;eau sucré</i>. Mrs. Somers,
+      on the contrary, took the cause of Shakspeare, or any other cause that she
+      defended, seriously to heart. The wit or raillery of her adversary, if she
+      affected not to be hurt by it at the moment, left a sting in her mind
+      which rankled long and sorely. Though she often failed to refute the
+      arguments brought against her, yet she always rose from the debate
+      precisely of her first opinion; and even her silence, which Mad. de
+      Coulanges sometimes mistook for assent or conviction, was only the symptom
+      of contemptuous pity&mdash;the proof that she deemed the understanding of
+      her opponent beneath all fair competition with her own. The understanding
+      of Mad. de Coulanges had, indeed, in the space of a few months, sunk far
+      below the point of mediocrity, in Mrs. Somers&rsquo; estimation&mdash;she had
+      begun by overvaluing, and she ended by underrating it. She at first had
+      taken it for granted that Mad. de Coulanges possessed a &ldquo;very superior
+      understanding and great strength of mind;&rdquo; then she discovered that la
+      comtesse was &ldquo;uncommonly superficial, even for a Frenchwoman;&rdquo; and at last
+      she decided, that &ldquo;really Mad. de Coulanges was a very silly woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers now began to be seriously angry with Emilie for always being
+      of her mother&rsquo;s opinion: &ldquo;It is really, Mlle. de Coulanges, carrying your
+      filial affection too far. We cold-hearted English can scarcely conceive
+      this sort of fervid passion, which French children express about every
+      thing, the merest trifle, that relates to <i>mamma!</i>&mdash;Well! it is
+      an amiable national prejudice; and one cannot help wishing that it may
+      never, like other amiable enthusiasms, fail in the moment of serious
+      trial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie, touched to the quick upon a subject nearest her heart, replied
+      with a degree of dignity and spirit which surprised Mrs. Somers, who had
+      never seen in her any thing but the most submissive gentleness. &ldquo;The
+      affection, whether enthusiastic or not, which we French children profess
+      for our parents, has been of late years put to some strong trials, and has
+      not been found to fail. In many instances it has proved superior to all
+      earthly terrors&mdash;to imprisonment&mdash;to torture&mdash;to death&mdash;to
+      Robespierre. Daughters have sacrificed themselves for their parents.&mdash;Oh!
+      if <i>my</i> life could have saved my father&rsquo;s!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie clasped her hands, and looked up to heaven with the unaffected
+      expression of filial piety in her countenance. Every body was silent. Mrs.
+      Somers was struck with regret&mdash;with remorse&mdash;for the taunting
+      manner in which she had spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dearest Emilie, forgive me!&rdquo; cried she; &ldquo;I am shocked at what I said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie took Mrs. Somers&rsquo; hand between hers, and endeavoured to smile. Mrs.
+      Somers resolved that she would keep, henceforward, the strictest guard
+      upon her own temper; and that she would never more be so ungenerous, so
+      barbarous, as to insult one who was so gentle, so grateful, so much in her
+      power, and so deserving of her affection. These good resolutions, formed
+      in the moment of contrition, were, however, soon forgotten: strong
+      emotions of the heart are transient in their power; habits of the temper
+      permanent in their influence.&mdash;Like a child who promises to be always
+      <i>good</i>, and forgets its promise in an hour, Mrs. Somers soon grew
+      tired of keeping her temper in subjection. It did not, indeed, break out
+      immediately towards Emilie; but, in her conversations with Mad. de
+      Coulanges, the same feelings of irritation and contempt recurred; and
+      Emilie, who was a clear-sighted bystander, suffered continual uneasiness
+      upon these occasions&mdash;uneasiness, which appeared to Mad. de Coulanges
+      perfectly causeless, and at which she frequently expressed her
+      astonishment. Emilie&rsquo;s prescient kindness often, indeed, &ldquo;felt the coming
+      storm;&rdquo; while her mother&rsquo;s careless eye saw not, even when the dark cloud
+      was just ready to burst over her head. With all the innocent address of
+      which she was mistress, Emilie tried to turn the course of the
+      conversation whenever it tended towards <i>dangerous</i> subjects of
+      discussion; but her mother, far from shunning, would often dare and
+      provoke the war; and she would combat long after both parties were in the
+      dark, even till her adversary quitted the field of battle, exclaiming, &ldquo;<i>Let
+      us have peace on any terms, my dear countess!&mdash;I give up the point to
+      you, Mad. de Coulanges.</i>&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This last phrase Emilie particularly dreaded, as the precursor of
+      ill-humour for some succeeding hours. Mrs. Somers at length became so
+      conscious of her own inability to conceal her contempt or to command her
+      temper, that she was almost as desirous as Emilie could be to avoid these
+      arguments; and, the moment the countess prepared for the attack, she would
+      recede, with, &ldquo;Excuse me, Mad. de Coulanges: we had better not talk upon
+      these subjects&mdash;it is of no use&mdash;really of no manner of use: let
+      us converse upon other topics&mdash;there are subjects enough, I hope,
+      upon which we shall always agree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie was at first rejoiced at this arrangement, but the constraint was
+      insupportable to her mother: indeed, the circle of proper subjects for
+      conversation contracted daily; for not only the declared offensive topics
+      were to be avoided, but innumerable others, bordering on or allied to
+      them, were to be shunned with equal care&mdash;a degree of caution of
+      which the volatile countess was utterly incapable. One day, at dinner, she
+      asked the gentleman opposite to her, &ldquo;How long this intolerable rule&mdash;of
+      talking only upon subjects where people are of the same opinion&mdash;had
+      been the fashion, and what time it would probably last in England?&mdash;If
+      it continue much longer, I must fly the country,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I would
+      almost as soon, at this rate, be a prisoner in Paris, as in your land of
+      freedom. You value, above all things, your liberty of the press&mdash;now,
+      to me, liberty of the tongue, which is evidently a part, if not the best
+      part, of personal liberty, is infinitely more dear. Bon Dieu!&mdash;even
+      in l&rsquo;Abbaye one might talk of Racine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges spoke this half in jest, half in earnest; but Mrs.
+      Somers took it wholly in earnest, and was most seriously offended. Her
+      feelings upon the occasion were strongly expressed in a letter to a
+      friend, to whom she had, from her infancy, been in the habit of confiding
+      all her joys and sorrows&mdash;all the histories of her loves and hates&mdash;of
+      her quarrels and reconciliations. This friend was an elderly lady, who,
+      besides possessing superior mental endowments which inspired admiration,
+      and a character which commanded high respect, was blessed with an
+      uncommonly placid, benevolent temper. This enabled her to do what no other
+      human being had ever accomplished&mdash;to continue in peace and amity,
+      for upwards of thirty years, with Mrs. Somers. The following is one of
+      many hundreds of epistolary complaints or invectives, which, during the
+      course of that time, this &ldquo;much enduring lady&rdquo; was doomed to read and
+      answer.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;TO LADY LITTLETON.
+
+    &ldquo;For once, my dear friend, I am secure of your sympathizing in my
+    indignation&mdash;my long suppressed, just, virtuous indignation&mdash;yes,
+    virtuous; for I do hold indignation to be a part of virtue: it
+    is the natural, proper expression of a warm heart and a strong
+    character against the cold-blooded vices of meanness and
+    ingratitude. Would that those to whom I allude could feel it
+    as a punishment!&mdash;but no, this is not the sort of punishment
+    they are formed to feel. Nothing but what comes home to their
+    interests&mdash;their paltry interests!&mdash;their pleasures&mdash;their
+    selfish pleasures!&mdash;their amusements&mdash;their frivolous amusements!
+    can touch souls of such a sort. To this half-formed race of
+    <i>worldlings</i>, who are scarce endued with a moral sense, the
+    generous expression of indignation always appears something
+    incomprehensible&mdash;ridiculous; or, in their language, <i>outré!
+    inouï</i>! With such beings, therefore, I always am&mdash;as much as my
+    nature will allow me to be&mdash;upon my guard; I keep within what
+    they call the bounds of politeness&mdash;their dear politeness! What a
+    system of <i>simagrée</i> it is, after all! and how can honest human
+    nature bear to be penned up all its days by the Chinese paling of
+    ceremony, or that French filigree work, <i>politesse</i>? English human
+    nature cannot endure this, as <i>yet</i>; and I am glad of it&mdash;heartily
+    glad of it&mdash;Now to the point.
+
+    &ldquo;You guess that I am going to speak of the Coulanges. Yes, my
+    dear friend, you were quite right in advising me, when I first
+    became acquainted with them, not to give way blindly to my
+    enthusiasm&mdash;not to be too generous, or to expect too much
+    gratitude. Gratitude! why should I ever expect to meet with
+    any?&mdash;Where I have most deserved, most hoped for it, I have
+    been always most disappointed. My life has been a life of
+    sacrifices!&mdash;thankless and fruitless sacrifices! There is not any
+    possible species of sacrifice of interest, pleasure, happiness,
+    which I have not been willing to make&mdash;which I have not made&mdash;for
+    my friends&mdash;for my enemies. Early in life, I gave up a lover I
+    adored to a friend, who afterwards deserted me. I married a man I
+    detested to oblige a mother, who at last refused to see me on her
+    death-bed. What exertions I made for years to win the affection of
+    the husband to whom I was only bound in duty! My generosity was
+    thrown away upon him&mdash;he died&mdash;I became ambitious&mdash;I had means
+    of gratifying my ambition&mdash;a splendid alliance was in my power.
+    Ambition is a strong passion as well as love&mdash;but I sacrificed
+    it without hesitation to my children&mdash;I devoted myself to the
+    education of my two sons, one of whom has never, in any instance,
+    since he became his own master, shown his mother tenderness or
+    affection; and who, on some occasions, has scarcely behaved
+    towards her with the common forms of respect and duty. Despairing,
+    utterly despairing of gratitude from my own family and natural
+    friends, I looked abroad, and endeavoured to form friendships with
+    strangers, in hopes of finding more congenial tempers. I spared
+    nothing to earn attachment&mdash;my time, my health, my money. I
+    lavished money so, as even, notwithstanding my large income, to
+    reduce myself frequently to the most straitened and embarrassing
+    circumstances. And by all I have done, by all I have suffered,
+    what have I gained?&mdash;not a single friend&mdash;except yourself. You, on
+    whom I have never conferred the slightest favour, you are at this
+    instant the only friend upon earth by whom I am really beloved. To
+    you, who know my whole history, I may speak of myself as I have
+    done, Heaven knows! not with vanity, but with deep humiliation and
+    bitterness of heart. The experience of my whole life leaves me
+    only the deplorable conviction that it is impossible to do good,
+    that it is vain to hope even for friendship from those whom we
+    oblige.
+
+    &ldquo;My last disappointment has been cruel, in proportion to the fond
+    hopes I had formed. I cannot cure myself of this credulous folly.
+    I did form high expectations of happiness from the society and
+    gratitude of this Mad. and Mlle. de Coulanges; but the mother
+    turns out to be a mere frivolous French comtesse, ignorant,
+    vain, and positive&mdash;as all ignorant people are; full of national
+    prejudices, which she supports in the most absurd and petulant
+    manner. Possessed with the insanity, common to all Parisians, of
+    thinking that Paris is the whole world, and that nothing can be
+    good taste, or good sense, or good manners, but what is <i>à-la-mode
+    de Paris</i>; through all her boasted politeness, you see, even by
+    her mode of praising, that she has a most illiberal contempt for
+    all who are not Parisians&mdash;she considers the rest of the world
+    as barbarians. I could give you a thousand instances; but her
+    conversation is really so frivolous, that it is not worth
+    reciting. I bore with it day after day for several months with a
+    patience for which, I am sure, you would have given me credit;
+    and I let her go on eternally with absurd observations upon
+    Shakspeare, and extravagant nonsense about Racine. To avoid
+    disputing with her, I gave up every point&mdash;I acquiesced in all she
+    said&mdash;and only begged to have peace. Still she was not satisfied.
+    You know there are tempers which never can be contented, do what
+    you will to please them. Mad. de Coulanges actually quarrelled
+    with me for begging that we might have peace; and that we might
+    talk upon subjects where we should not be likely to disagree.
+    This will seem to you incredible; but it is the nature of French
+    caprice: and for this I ought to have been prepared. But, indeed,
+    I never could have prepared myself for the strange manner in which
+    this lady thought proper to manifest her anger this day at dinner,
+    before a large company. She spoke absolutely, notwithstanding all
+    her good-breeding, in the most brutally ungrateful manner; and,
+    after all I have done for her, she represented me as being as
+    great a tyrant as Robespierre, and spoke of my house as a more
+    intolerable prison than any in Paris!!! I only state the fact to
+    you, without making any comments&mdash;I never yet saw so thoroughly
+    selfish and unfeeling a human being.
+
+    &ldquo;The daughter has as far too much as the mother has too little
+    sensibility. Emilie plagues me to death with her fine feelings
+    and her sentimentality, and all her French parade of affection,
+    and superfluity of endearing expressions, which mean nothing,
+    and disgust English ears. She is always fancying that I am angry
+    or displeased with her or with her mother; and then I am to have
+    tears, and explanations, and apologies: she has not a mind large
+    enough to understand my character: and if I were to explain to
+    eternity, she would be as much in the dark as ever. Yet, after
+    all, there is something so ingenuous and affectionate about this
+    girl that I cannot help loving her, and that is what provokes me;
+    for she does not, and never can, feel for me the affection that I
+    have for her. My little hastiness of temper she has not strength
+    of mind sufficient to bear&mdash;I see she is dreadfully afraid of
+    me, and more constrained in my company than in that of any other
+    person. Not a visitor comes, however insignificant, but Mlle. de
+    Coulanges seems more at her ease, and converses more with them
+    than with me&mdash;she talks to me only of gratitude, and such stuff.
+    She is one of those feeble persons who, wanting confidence in
+    themselves, are continually afraid that they shall not be grateful
+    enough; and so they reproach and torment themselves, and refine
+    and <i>sentimentalize</i>, till gratitude becomes burdensome (as it
+    always does to weak minds), and the very idea of a benefactor
+    odious. Mlle. de Coulanges was originally unwilling to accept of
+    any obligation from me: she knew her own character better than I
+    did. I do not deny that she has a heart; but she has no soul: I
+    hope you understand and feel the difference. I rejoice, my dear
+    Lady Littleton, that you are coming to town immediately. I am
+    harassed almost to death between want of feeling and fine feeling.
+    I really long to see you and to talk over all these things. Nobody
+    but you, my dear friend, ever understood me.&mdash;Farewell!
+
+    &ldquo;Yours affectionately,
+
+    &ldquo;A. SOMERS.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      To this long letter, Lady Littleton replied by the following short note.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;I hope to see you the day after to-morrow, my dear friend; in the
+    mean time, do not decide, irrevocably, that Mlle. de Coulanges has
+    no soul.
+
+    &ldquo;Yours affectionately,
+
+    &ldquo;L. LITTLETON.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers was rather disappointed by the calmness of this note; and she
+      was most impatient to see Lady Littleton, that she might work up her mind
+      to the proper pitch of indignation. She stationed a servant at her
+      ladyship&rsquo;s house to give her notice the moment of her arrival in town. The
+      instant that she was informed of it she ordered her carriage; and the
+      whole of her conversation during this visit was an invective against
+      Emilie and Mad. de Coulanges. The next day, Emilie, who had heard the most
+      enthusiastic eulogiums upon Lady Littleton, expressed much satisfaction on
+      finding that she was come to town; and requested Mrs. Somers&rsquo; permission
+      to accompany her on her next visit. The request was rather embarrassing;
+      but Mrs. Somers granted it with a sort of constrained civility. It was
+      fortunate for Emilie that she was so unsuspicious; for her manner was
+      consequently frank, natural, and affectionate; and she appeared to the
+      greatest advantage to Lady Littleton. Mrs. Somers threw herself back in
+      the chair and sat silent, whilst Emilie, in hopes of pleasing her,
+      conversed with the utmost freedom with her friend. The conversation, at
+      last, was interrupted by an exclamation from Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;Good Heavens!
+      my dear Lady Littleton, how can you endure this smell of paint? It has
+      made my head ache terribly&mdash;where does it come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From my bedchamber,&rdquo; said Lady Littleton. &ldquo;They have, unluckily,
+      misunderstood my orders; and they have freshly painted every one in my
+      house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is impossible that you should sleep here&mdash;I will not allow
+      you&mdash;it will poison you&mdash;it will give you the palsy immediately&mdash;it
+      is destruction&mdash;it is death. You must come home with me directly&mdash;I
+      insist upon it&mdash;But, no,&rdquo; said she, checking herself, with a look of
+      sudden disappointment, &ldquo;no, my dearest friend! I cannot invite you; for I
+      have not a bed to offer you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, mine&mdash;you forget mine&mdash;dear Mrs. Somers,&rdquo; cried Emilie;
+      &ldquo;you know I can sleep with mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By no means, Mlle. de Coulanges; you cannot possibly imagine&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I only imagine the truth,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;that this arrangement would be
+      infinitely more convenient to mamma; I know she likes to have me in the
+      room with her. Pray, dear Mrs. Somers, let it be so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers made many ceremonious speeches: but Lady Littleton seemed so
+      well inclined to accept Emilie&rsquo;s offered room, that she was obliged to
+      yield. She was vexed to perceive that Emilie&rsquo;s manners pleased Lady
+      Littleton; and, after they returned home, the activity with which Emilie
+      moved her books, her drawing-box, work, &amp;c., furnished Mrs. Somers
+      with fresh matter for displeasure. At night, when Lady Littleton went to
+      take possession of her apartment, and when she observed how active and
+      obliging Mlle. de Coulanges had been, Mrs. Somers shook her head, and
+      replied, &ldquo;All this is just a proof to me of what I asserted, Lady
+      Littleton&mdash;and what I must irrevocably assert&mdash;that Mlle. de
+      Coulanges has no soul. You are a new acquaintance, and I am an old friend.
+      She exerts herself to please you; she does not care what I think or what I
+      feel about the matter. Now this is just what I call having no soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Mrs. Somers,&rdquo; said Lady Littleton, &ldquo;be reasonable; and you must
+      perceive that Emilie&rsquo;s eagerness to please me arises from her regard and
+      gratitude to you: she has, I make no doubt, heard that I am your intimate
+      friend, and your praises have disposed her to like me.&mdash;Is this a
+      proof that she has no soul?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Lady Littleton, we will not dispute about it&mdash;I see you are
+      fascinated, as I was at first. Manner is a prodigious advantage&mdash;but
+      I own I prefer solid English sincerity. Stay a little: as soon as Mlle. de
+      Coulanges thinks herself secure of you, she will completely abandon me. I
+      make no doubt that she will complain to you of my bad temper and ill
+      usage; and I dare say that she will succeed in prejudicing you against
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will succeed only in prejudicing me against herself, if she attempt
+      to injure you,&rdquo; said Lady Littleton; &ldquo;but, till I have some plain proof of
+      it, I cannot believe that any person has such a base and ungrateful
+      disposition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers spent an hour and a quarter in explaining her causes of
+      complaint against both mother and daughter; and she at last retired much
+      dissatisfied, because her friend was not as angry as she was, but
+      persisted in the resolution to see more before she decided. After passing
+      a few days in the house with Mlle. de Coulanges, Lady Littleton frankly
+      declared to Mrs. Somers that she thought her complaints of Emilie&rsquo;s temper
+      quite unreasonable, and that she was a most amiable and affectionate girl.
+      Respect for Lady Littleton restrained Mrs. Somers from showing the full
+      extent of her vexation; she contented herself with repeating, &ldquo;Mlle. de
+      Coulanges is certainly a very amiable young woman&mdash;I would by no
+      means prejudice you against her&mdash;but when you know her as well as I
+      do, you will find that she has no soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers, in the course of four-and-twenty hours, found a multitude of
+      proofs in support of her opinion; but they were none of them absolutely
+      satisfactory to Lady Littleton&rsquo;s judgment. Whilst they were debating about
+      her character, Emilie came into the room to show Mrs. Somers a <i>French</i>
+      translation, which she had been making, of a pretty little English poem,
+      called &ldquo;The Emigrant&rsquo;s Grave.&rdquo; It was impossible to be displeased with the
+      translation, or with the motive from which it was attempted; for it was
+      done at the particular request of Mrs. Somers. This lady&rsquo;s ingenuity,
+      however, did not fail to discover some cause for dissatisfaction. Mlle. de
+      Coulanges had adapted the words to a French, and not to an English air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a favourite air of mamma&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;and I thought that she
+      would be pleased by my choosing it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Somers, in her constrained voice, &ldquo;I remember that the
+      Countess de Coulanges and her friend&mdash;or your friend&mdash;M. de
+      Brisac, were charmed with this air, when you sang it the other night. I
+      found fault with it, I believe&mdash;but then you had a majority against
+      me; and with some people that is sufficient. Few ask themselves <i>what
+      constitutes a majority</i>&mdash;numbers or sense. Judgments and tastes
+      may differ in value; but one vote is always as good as another, in the
+      opinion of those who are decided merely by numbers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope that I shall never be one of those,&rdquo; said Emilie. &ldquo;Upon the
+      present occasion I assure you, my dear Mrs. Somers, that I was influenced
+      by&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! my dear Mlle. de Coulanges,&rdquo; interrupted Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;you need not
+      give yourself the trouble to explain about such a trifle&mdash;the thing
+      is perfectly clear. And nothing is more natural than that you should
+      despise the taste of a friend when put in competition with that of a
+      lover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of a lover!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, of a lover. Why should Mlle. de Coulanges think it necessary to look
+      astonished? But young ladies imagine this sort of dissimulation is
+      becoming; and can I hope to meet with an exception, or to find one
+      superior to the <i>finesse</i> of her sex?&mdash;I beg your pardon, Mlle.
+      de Coulanges, I really forgot that Lady Littleton was present when this
+      terrible word lover escaped&mdash;but I can assure you that frankness is
+      not incompatible with <i>her</i> ideas of delicacy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mistaken, dear Mrs. Somers; indeed you are mistaken,&rdquo; said
+      Emilie; &ldquo;but you are displeased with me now, and I will take a more
+      favourable moment to set you right. In the mean time, I will go and water
+      the hydrangia, which I forgot, and which I reproached myself for
+      forgetting yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you convinced now, my dear Lady Littleton,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;that
+      this girl has no soul&mdash;and very little heart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced only that she has an excellent temper,&rdquo; said Lady
+      Littleton. &ldquo;I hope you do not think a good temper is incompatible with a
+      heart or a soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell you what I think, and what I am sure of,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers,
+      raising her voice; &ldquo;that Mlle. de Coulanges will be a constant cause of
+      dispute and uneasiness between you and me, Lady Littleton&mdash;I foresee
+      the end of this. As a return for all I have done for her and her mother,
+      she will rob me of the affections of one whom I love and esteem, respect
+      and admire&mdash;as she well knows&mdash;above all other human beings. She
+      will rob me of the affections of one who has been my friend, my best, my
+      only constant friend, for twenty years!&mdash;Oh! why am I doomed
+      eternally to be the victim of ingratitude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of Lady Littleton&rsquo;s efforts to stop and calm her, Mrs. Somers
+      burst out of the room in an agony of passion. She ran up a back staircase
+      which led to her dressing-room, but suddenly stopped when she came to the
+      landing-place, for she found Emilie watering her plants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look, dear Mrs. Somers, this hydrangia is just going to blow; though I
+      was so careless as to forget to water it yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges, that you will not trouble yourself,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Somers, haughtily. &ldquo;Surely there are servants enough in this house whose
+      business it is to remember these things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;it is their business, but it is my pleasure. You must
+      not, indeed you must not, take my watering-pot from me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, I must, mademoiselle&mdash;you are very condescending and
+      polite, and I am very blunt and rude, or whatever you please to think me.
+      But the fact is, that I am not to be flattered by what the French call <i>des
+      petites attentions</i>: they are suited to little minds, but not to me.
+      You will never know my character, Mlle. de Coulanges&mdash;I am not to be
+      pleased by such means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Teach me then better means, my dear friend, and do not bid me despair of
+      ever pleasing you,&rdquo; said Emilie, throwing her arms round Mrs. Somers to
+      detain her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me&mdash;I am an Englishwoman, and do not love <i>embrassades</i>,
+      which mean nothing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers, struggling to disengage herself;
+      and she rushed suddenly forward, without perceiving that Emilie&rsquo;s foot was
+      entangled in her train. Emilie was thrown from the top of the stairs to
+      the bottom. Mrs. Somers screamed&mdash;Lady Littleton came out of her
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is dead!&mdash;I have killed her!&rdquo;&mdash;cried Mrs. Somers. Lady
+      Littleton raised Emilie from the ground&mdash;she was quite stunned by the
+      violence of the fall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! speak to me! dearest Emilie, speak once more!&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as Emilie could speak, she assured Mrs. Somers that she should be
+      quite well in a few minutes. When she attempted, however, to walk, she
+      found she was unable to move, for her ankle was violently sprained: she
+      was carried into Lady Littleton&rsquo;s room, and placed upon a sofa. She
+      exerted herself to bear the pain she felt, that she might not alarm or
+      seem to reproach Mrs. Somers; and she repeatedly blamed herself for the
+      awkwardness with which she had occasioned her own fall. Mrs. Somers, in
+      the greatest bustle and confusion, called every servant in the house about
+      her, sent them different ways for all the remedies she had ever heard of
+      for a sprain; then was sure Emilie&rsquo;s skull was fractured&mdash;asked fifty
+      times in five minutes whether she did not feel a certain sickness in her
+      stomach, which was the infallible sign of &ldquo;<i>something wrong</i>&rdquo;&mdash;insisted
+      upon her smelling at salts, vinegar, and various essences; and made her
+      swallow, or at least taste, every variety of drops and cordials. By this
+      time Mad. de Coulanges, who was at her toilet, had heard of the accident,
+      and came running in half dressed; the hurry of Mrs. Somers&rsquo; manner, the
+      crowd of assistants, the quantity of remedies, the sight of Emilie
+      stretched upon a sofa, and the sound of the word <i>fracture</i>, which
+      caught her ear, had such an effect upon the countess, that she was
+      instantly seized with one of her nervous attacks; and Mrs. Somers was
+      astonished to see Emilie spring from the sofa to assist her mother. When
+      Mad. de Coulanges recovered, Emilie used all her powers of persuasion to
+      calm her spirits, laughed at the idea of her skull being fractured, and
+      said, that she had only twisted her ankle, which would merely prevent her
+      from dancing for a few days. The countess pitied herself for having such
+      terribly weak nerves&mdash;congratulated herself upon her daughter&rsquo;s
+      safety&mdash;declared that it was a miracle how she could have escaped, in
+      falling down such a narrow staircase&mdash;observed, that, though the
+      stairs in London were cleaner and better carpeted, the staircases of Paris
+      were at least four times as broad, and, consequently, a hundred times as
+      safe. She then reminded Emilie of an anecdote mentioned by Mad. de Genlis
+      about a princess of France, who, when she retired to a convent, complained
+      bitterly of the narrowness of the staircase, which, she said, she found a
+      real misfortune to be obliged to descend. &ldquo;Tell me, Emilie, what was the
+      name of the princess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Princess Louisa of France, I believe, mamma,&rdquo; replied Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges repeated, &ldquo;Ay, the Princess Louisa of France;&rdquo; and then,
+      well satisfied, returned to finish her toilette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have an excellent memory, Mlle. de Coulanges,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers,
+      looking with an air of pique at Emilie. &ldquo;I really am rejoiced to see you
+      so much yourself again&mdash;I thought you were seriously hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you that I was not,&rdquo; said Emilie, forcing a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but I was such a fool as to be terrified out of my senses by seeing
+      you lie down on the sofa. I might have saved myself and you a great deal
+      of trouble. I must have appeared ridiculously officious. I saw indeed that
+      I was troublesome; and I seem to be too much for you now. I will leave you
+      with Lady Littleton, to explain to her how the accident happened. Pray
+      tell the thing just as it was&mdash;do not spare me, I beg. I do not
+      desire that Lady Littleton, or any friend I have upon earth, should think
+      better of me than I deserve. Remember, you have my free leave, Mlle. de
+      Coulanges, to speak of me as you think&mdash;so don&rsquo;t spare me!&rdquo; cried
+      Mrs. Somers, shutting the door with violence as she left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lean upon me, my dear,&rdquo; said Lady Littleton, who saw that Emilie turned
+      exceedingly pale, and looked towards a chair, as if she wished to reach
+      it, but could not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought,&rdquo; said she, in a faint voice, &ldquo;that this pain would go off, but
+      it is grown more violent.&rdquo; Emilie could say no more; she had borne intense
+      pain as long as she was able: and now, quite overcome, she leaned back,
+      and fainted. Lady Littleton threw open the window, sprinkled water upon
+      Emilie&rsquo;s face, and gave her assistance in the kindest manner, without
+      calling any of the servants; she knew that the return of Mrs. Somers would
+      do more harm than good. Emilie soon recovered her recollection; and,
+      whilst Lady Littleton was rubbing the sprained ankle with ether, in hopes
+      of lessening the pain, she asked how the accident had happened.&mdash;Emilie
+      replied simply, that she had entangled her foot in Mrs. Somers&rsquo; gown. &ldquo;I
+      understand, from what Mrs. Somers hinted when she left the room,&rdquo; said
+      Lady Littleton, &ldquo;that she was somehow in fault in this affair, and that
+      you could blame her if you would; but I see that you will not; and I love
+      you the better for justifying the good opinion that I had formed of you,
+      Emilie.&mdash;But I will not talk sentiment to you now&mdash;you are in
+      too much pain to relish it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; said Emilie: &ldquo;I feel more pleasure than pain at this moment;
+      indeed my ankle does not hurt me now that I am quite still&mdash;the
+      pleasant cold of the ether has relieved the pain. How kind you are to me,
+      Lady Littleton, and how much I am obliged to you for judging so favourably
+      of my character!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not obliged to me, my dear, for I do you only justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Justice is sometimes felt as the greatest possible obligation, especially
+      by those who have experienced the reverse.&mdash;But,&rdquo; said Emilie,
+      checking herself, &ldquo;let me not blame Mrs. Somers, or incline you to blame
+      her. I should do very wrong, indeed, if I were, in return for all she has
+      done for us, to cause any jealousies or quarrels between her and her best
+      friend. Oh! that is what I most dread! To prevent it, I would&mdash;it is
+      not polite to say so&mdash;but I would, my dear Lady Littleton, even
+      withdraw myself from your society. This very day you return to your own
+      house. You were so good as to ask me to go often to see you: forgive me if
+      I do not avail myself of this kind permission. You will know my reasons;
+      and I hope they are such as you will approve of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A servant came in, to say that her ladyship&rsquo;s carriage was at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One word more before you go, my dear Lady Littleton,&rdquo; said Emilie, with a
+      supplicating voice and countenance. &ldquo;Tell me, I beseech you&mdash;for you
+      have been her friend from her childhood, and must know better than any one
+      living&mdash;tell me how I can please Mrs. Somers. I begin to be afraid
+      that I shall at last be weary of my fruitless efforts, and I dread&mdash;above
+      all things I dread&mdash;that my affection for her should be worn out. How
+      painful it would be to sustain the continual weight of obligation without
+      being able to feel the pleasure of gratitude!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Littleton was going to reply, but she was prevented by the sudden
+      entrance of Mrs. Somers with her face of wrath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So, Lady Littleton, you are actually going, I find!&mdash;And I have not
+      had one moment of your conversation. May I be allowed&mdash;if Mlle. de
+      Coulanges has finished her mysteries&mdash;to say a few words to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will give me leave, I am sure, Emilie,&rdquo; said Lady Littleton, &ldquo;to
+      repeat to Mrs. Somers every word that you have said to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, every word,&rdquo; said Emilie, blushing, yet speaking with firmness. &ldquo;I
+      have no mysteries&mdash;I do not wish to conceal from Mrs. Somers any
+      thing that I say or think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers seized Lady Littleton&rsquo;s arm, and left the room; but when she
+      had entire possession of her friend&rsquo;s ear, she had nothing to say, or
+      nothing that she would say, except half sentences, reproaching her for not
+      staying longer, and insinuating that Emilie would be the cause of their
+      separating for ever.&mdash;&ldquo;Now, as you have her permission, will you
+      favour me with a repetition of her last conversation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in your present humour, my dear,&rdquo; said Lady Littleton: &ldquo;this is not
+      the happy moment to speak reason to you. Adieu! I give you four-and-twenty
+      hours&rsquo; grace before I declare you a bankrupt in temper. You shall hear
+      from me to-morrow; for, on some subjects, I have always found it better to
+      write than to speak to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers continued during the remainder of the day in a desperate state
+      of ill-humour, which was increased by finding that Mlle. de Coulanges
+      could neither stand nor walk. Mrs. Somers was persuaded that Emilie, if
+      she would have exerted herself, could have done both, but that she
+      preferred exciting the pity of the whole house; and this, all
+      circumstances considered, was a proof of total want of generosity and
+      gratitude. The next morning, however, she was alarmed by hearing from Mrs.
+      Masham, whom she had sent to attend upon Mlle. de Coulanges, that her
+      ankle was violently swelled and inflamed.&mdash;Just when the full tide of
+      her affections was beginning to flow in Emilie&rsquo;s favour, Mrs. Somers
+      received the following letter from Lady Littleton:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Enclosed, I have sent you, as well as I can recollect it, every
+    word of the conversation that passed yesterday between Mlle. de
+    Coulanges and me. If I were less anxious for your happiness,
+    and if I had not so high an opinion of the excellence of your
+    disposition, I should wish, my dear friend, to spare both you and
+    myself the pain of speaking and hearing the truth. But I know that
+    I have preserved your affection many years beyond the usual limits
+    of female friendship, by daring to speak to you with perfect
+    sincerity, and by trusting to the justice of your better self.
+    Perhaps you would rather have a compliment to your generosity than
+    to your justice; but in this I shall not indulge you, because I
+    think you already set too high a value upon generosity. It has
+    been the misfortune of your life, my dear friend, to believe that,
+    by making great sacrifices, and conferring great benefits, you
+    could ensure to yourself, in return, affection and gratitude. You
+    mistake both the nature of obligation and the effect which it
+    produces on the human mind. Obligations may command gratitude, but
+    can never ensure love. If the benefit be of a pecuniary nature, it
+    is necessarily attended with a certain sense of humiliation, which
+    destroys the equality of friendship. Of whatever description the
+    favour may be, it becomes burdensome, if gratitude be expected as
+    a tribute, instead of being accepted as the free-will offering
+    of the heart: &lsquo;still paying still to owe&rsquo; is irksome, even to
+    those who have nothing Satanic in their natures. A person who has
+    received a favour is in a defenceless state with respect to a
+    benefactor; and the benefactor who makes an improper use of the
+    power which gratitude gives becomes an oppressor. I know your
+    generous spirit, and I am fully sensible that no one has a more
+    just idea than you have of the delicacy that ought to be used
+    towards those whom you have obliged; but you must permit me to
+    observe, that your practice is not always conformable to your
+    theory. Temper is doubly necessary to those who love, as you do,
+    to confer favours: it is the duty of a benefactress to command her
+    feelings, and to refrain absolutely from every species of direct
+    or indirect reproach; else her kindness becomes only a source
+    of misery; and even from the benevolence of her disposition she
+    derives the means of giving pain.
+
+    &ldquo;I have said enough; and I know that you will not be offended. The
+    moment your understanding is convinced and your heart touched,
+    all paltry jealousies and petty irritations subside, and you
+    are always capable of acting in a manner worthy of yourself.
+    Adieu!&mdash;May you, my dear friend, preserve the affections of one
+    who feels for you, I am convinced, the most sincere gratitude! You
+    will reap a rich harvest, if you do not, with childish impatience,
+    disturb the seeds that you have sown, to examine whether they are
+    growing.
+
+    &ldquo;Your faithful friend,
+
+    &ldquo;L. LITTLETON.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      This letter had an immediate and strong effect upon the mind of Mrs.
+      Somers: she went directly with it open in her hand to Emilie. &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; said
+      she, &ldquo;is the letter of a noble-minded woman, who dares to speak truth,
+      painful truth, to her best friend. She does me justice in being convinced
+      that I shall not be offended; she does me justice in believing that an
+      appeal to my candour and generosity cannot be in vain, especially when it
+      is made by her voice. Emilie, you shall see that I am worthy to have a
+      sincere friend; you shall see that I can even command my temper, when I
+      have what, to my own feelings and understanding, appears adequate motive.
+      But, my dear, you are in pain&mdash;let me look at this ankle&mdash;I am
+      absolutely afraid to see it!&mdash;Good Heavens! how it is swelled!&mdash;And
+      I fancied, all yesterday, that you could have walked upon it!&mdash;And I
+      thought you wanted only to excite pity!&mdash;My poor child!&mdash;I have
+      used you barbarously&mdash;most barbarously!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, kneeling
+      down beside the sofa. &ldquo;And can you ever forgive me?&mdash;Yes! that sweet
+      smile tells me that you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All I ask of you,&rdquo; said Emilie, embracing Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;is to believe
+      that I am grateful, and to continue to make me love you as long as I live.
+      This must depend upon you more than upon myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, my dear,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers. &ldquo;Be satisfied&mdash;I will not
+      wear out your affections. You have dealt fairly with me. I love you for
+      having the courage to speak as you think.&mdash;But now that it is all
+      over, I must tell you what it was that displeased me&mdash;for I hate half
+      reconciliations: I will tell you all that passed in my mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray do,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;for then I shall know how to avoid displeasing
+      you another time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No danger of that, my dear. You will never make me angry again; for I am
+      sure you will now be as frank towards me as I am towards you. It was not
+      your adapting that little poem to a French rather than to an English air
+      that displeased me&mdash;I am not quite so childish as to be offended by
+      such a trifle; but I own I did not like your saying that you chose it
+      merely to comply with your mother&rsquo;s taste.&mdash;And you will acknowledge,
+      Emilie, there was a want of sincerity, a want of candour, in your affected
+      look of astonishment, when I mentioned M. de Brisac. I do not claim your
+      confidence as a right&mdash;God forbid!&mdash;But if the warmest desire
+      for your happiness, the most affectionate sympathy, can merit confidence&mdash;But
+      I will not say a word that can imply reproach. On the contrary, I will
+      only assure you, that I have penetration sufficient always to know your
+      wishes, and activity enough to serve you effectually, even without being
+      your confidante. I shall this night see a friend who is in power&mdash;I
+      will speak to him about M. de Brisac: I have hopes that his pension from
+      our government may be doubled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish it may, for his sake,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;but certainly not for my
+      own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Mlle. de Coulanges!&mdash;But I have no right to extort confidence. I
+      will not, as I said before, utter a syllable that can imply reproach. Let
+      me go on with what I was telling you of my intentions. As soon as the
+      pension is doubled, I will speak to Mad. de Coulanges about M. de Brisac.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For Heaven&rsquo;s sake, do not!&rdquo; interrupted Emilie; &ldquo;for you would do me the
+      greatest possible injury. Mamma would then think it a suitable match, and
+      she would wish me to marry him; and nothing could make me move unhappy
+      than to be under the necessity of acting contrary to my duty&mdash;of
+      disobeying and displeasing her for ever&mdash;or else of uniting myself to
+      M. de Brisac, whom I can neither love nor esteem.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it possible,&rdquo; exclaimed Mrs. Somers, with joyful astonishment, &ldquo;is it
+      possible that I have been under a mistake all this time? My dearest
+      Emilie! now you are every thing I first thought you! Indeed, I could not
+      think with patience of your making such a match; for M. de Brisac is a
+      mere nothing&mdash;worse than a mere nothing; a coxcomb, and a peevish
+      coxcomb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how could you suspect me of loving such a man?&rdquo; said Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never thought you loved him, but I thought you would marry him. French
+      marriages, you know, according to <i>l&rsquo;ancien régime</i>, in which you
+      were brought up, were never supposed to be affairs of the heart, but mere
+      alliances of interest, pride, or convenience.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;<i>des mariages de convenance</i>,&rdquo; said Emilie. &ldquo;We have
+      suffered terribly by the revolution; but I owe to it one blessing, which,
+      putting what mamma has felt out of the question, I should say has
+      overbalanced all our losses: I have escaped&mdash;what must have been my
+      fate in the ancient order of things&mdash;<i>un mariage de convenance</i>.
+      I must tell you how I escaped by a happy misfortune,&rdquo; continued Emilie,
+      suddenly recovering her vivacity of manner. &ldquo;The family of M. de Brisac
+      had settled, with mine, that I was to be la Comtesse de Brisac&mdash;But
+      we lost our property, and M. le comte his memory. Mamma was provoked and
+      indignant&mdash;I rejoiced. When I saw how shabbily he behaved, could I do
+      otherwise than rejoice at having escaped being his wife? M. le Comte de
+      Brisac soon lost his hereditary honours and possessions&mdash;Heaven
+      forgive me for not pitying him! I was only glad mamma now agreed with me
+      that we had nothing to regret. I had hoped that we should never have heard
+      more of him: but, lo! here he is again in my way with a commission in your
+      English army and a pension from your generous king, which make him,
+      amongst poor emigrants, a man of consequence. And he has taken it into his
+      head to sigh for me, because I laugh at him; and he talks of his
+      sentiments!&mdash;sentiments!&mdash;he who has no principles!&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My noble-minded Emilie!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers; &ldquo;I cannot express to you the
+      delight I feel at this explanation. How could I be such an idiot as not
+      sooner to see the truth! But I was misled by the solicitude that Mad. de
+      Coulanges showed about this M. de Brisac; and I foolishly concluded that
+      you and your mother were one. On the contrary, no two people can be more
+      different, thank Heaven!&mdash;I beg your pardon for that thanksgiving&mdash;I
+      see it distresses you, my dear Emilie&mdash;and believe me, I never was
+      less disposed to give you pain&mdash;I have made you suffer too much
+      already, both in mind and body. This terrible ankle&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does not give me any pain,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;except when I attempt to
+      walk; and it is no great misfortune to be obliged to be quiet for a few
+      days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers&rsquo; whole soul was now intent upon the means of making her young
+      friend amends for all she had suffered: this last conversation had raised
+      her to the highest point both of favour and esteem. Mrs. Somers was now
+      revolving in her mind a scheme, which she had formed in the first moments
+      of her partiality for Emilie&mdash;a scheme of marrying her to her son.
+      She had often quarrelled with this son; but she persuaded herself that
+      Emilie would make him every thing that was amiable and respectable, and
+      that she would form an indissoluble bond of family union and felicity.
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;Emilie will certainly be established
+      according to her mother&rsquo;s satisfaction. M. de Brisac cannot possibly stand
+      in the way here; for my son has name and fortune, and every thing that
+      Mad. de Coulanges can desire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers wrote immediately to summon her son home. In the mean time,
+      delighted with this new and grand project, and thinking herself sure of
+      success, she neglected, according to her usual custom, the &ldquo;little
+      courtesies of life;&rdquo; and all Lady Littleton&rsquo;s excellent observations upon
+      the nature of gratitude, and the effect produced on the mind by
+      obligations, were entirely obliterated from her memory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie&rsquo;s sprained ankle confined her to the house for some weeks; both
+      Mad. de Coulanges and Mrs. Somers began by offering in the most eager
+      manner, in competition with each other, to stay at home every evening to
+      keep her company; but she found that she could not accept of the offer of
+      one without offending the other; she knew that her mother would have <i>les
+      vapeurs noirs</i>, if she were not in <i>society</i>; and as she had
+      reason to apprehend that Mrs. Somers could not, with the best intentions
+      possible, remain three hours alone, with even a dear friend, without
+      finding or making some subject of quarrel, she wisely declined all these
+      kind offers. In fact, these were <i>trifling sacrifices</i>, which it
+      would not have suited Mrs. Somers&rsquo; temper to make: for there was no glory
+      to be gained by them. She regularly came every evening, as soon as she was
+      dressed, to pity Emilie&mdash;to repeat her wish that she might be allowed
+      to stay at home&mdash;then to step into her carriage, and drive away to
+      spend four hours in company which she professed to hate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Littleton made no complimentary speeches, but every day she contrived
+      to spend some time with Emilie; and, by a thousand small but kind
+      instances of attention, which asked neither for admiration nor gratitude,
+      she contributed to Emilie&rsquo;s daily happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This ready sympathy, and this promptitude to oblige in trifles, became
+      extremely agreeable to Mlle. de Coulanges: perhaps from the contrast with
+      Mrs. Somers&rsquo; defects, Lady Littleton&rsquo;s manners pleased her peculiarly. She
+      was under no fear of giving offence, so that she could speak her
+      sentiments or express her feelings without constraint: and, in short, she
+      enjoyed in this lady&rsquo;s society, a degree of tranquillity of mind and
+      freedom to which she had long been a stranger. Lady Littleton had employed
+      her excellent understanding in studying the minute circumstances which
+      tend to make people, of different characters and tempers, agree and live
+      happily together; and she understood and practised so successfully all the
+      <i>honest</i> arts of pleasing, that she rendered herself the centre of
+      union to a large circle of relations, many of whom she had converted into
+      friends. This she had accomplished without any violent effort, without
+      making any splendid sacrifices, but with that calm, gentle, persevering
+      kindness of temper, which, when united to good sense, forms the real
+      happiness of domestic life, and the true perfection of the female
+      character. Those who have not traced the causes of family quarrels would
+      not readily guess from what slight circumstances they often originate:
+      they arise more frequently from small defects in temper than from material
+      faults of character. People who would perhaps sacrifice their fortunes or
+      lives for each other cannot, at certain moments, give up their will, or
+      command their humour in the slightest degree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Emilie was confined by her sprained ankle, she employed herself in
+      embroidering and painting various trifles, which she intended to offer as
+      <i>souvenirs</i> to her English friends. Amongst these, the prettiest was
+      one which she called <i>the watch of Flora</i>.<a href="#linknote-19"
+       name="linknoteref-19" id="linknoteref-19"><small>19</small></a> It was a
+      dial plate for a pendule, on which the hours were marked by flowers&mdash;by
+      those flowers which open or close their petals at particular times of the
+      day. &ldquo;Linnæus has enumerated forty-six flowers which possess this kind of
+      sensibility; and has marked,&rdquo; as he says, &ldquo;their respective hours of
+      rising and setting.&rdquo; From these forty-six Emilie wished to select the most
+      beautiful: she had some difficulty in finding such as would suit her
+      purpose, especially as the observations made in the botanic gardens of
+      Upsal could not exactly agree with our climate. She sometimes applied to
+      Mrs. Somers for assistance; but Mrs. Somers repeatedly forgot to borrow
+      for her the botanical books which she wanted: this was too small a service
+      for her to remember. She was provoked at last by Emilie&rsquo;s reiterated
+      requests, and vexed by her own forgetfulness; so that Mlle. de Coulanges
+      at last determined not to run the risk of offending, and she reluctantly
+      laid aside her dial-plate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Young people of vivacious and inventive tempers, who know what it is to be
+      eagerly intent upon some favourite little project, will give Emilie due
+      credit for her forbearance. Lady Littleton, though not a young person,
+      could so far sympathize in the pursuits of youth, as to feel for Emilie&rsquo;s
+      disappointment. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you must not lay aside your watch of
+      Flora; perhaps I can help you to what you want.&rdquo; She was indefatigable in
+      the search of books and flowers; and, by assisting her in the pursuit of
+      this slight object, she not only enabled her to spend many happy hours,
+      but was of the most essential service to Emilie. It happened, that one
+      morning, when Lady Littleton went to Kew Gardens to search in the
+      hot-houses for some of the flowers, and to ascertain their hours of
+      closing, she met with a French botanist, who had just arrived from Paris,
+      who came to examine the arrangement of Kew Gardens, and to compare it with
+      that of the Jardin des Plantes. He paid some deserved compliments to the
+      superiority of Kew Gardens; and, with the ease of a Frenchman, he entered
+      into conversation with Lady Littleton. As he inquired for several French
+      emigrants, she mentioned the name of Mad. de Coulanges, and asked whether
+      he knew to whom the property of her family now belonged. He said, &ldquo;that it
+      was still in the possession of that <i>scelerat</i> of a steward, who had,
+      by his informations, brought his excellent master, le Comte de Coulanges,
+      to the guillotine. But,&rdquo; added the botanist, &ldquo;if you, madam, are
+      acquainted with any of the family, will you give them notice that this
+      wretch is near his end; that he has, within a few weeks, had two strokes
+      of apoplexy; and that his eldest son by no means resembles him; but is a
+      worthy young man, who, to my certain knowledge, is shocked at his father&rsquo;s
+      crimes, and who might be prevailed upon, by a reasonable consideration, to
+      restore to the family, to whom it originally belonged, the property that
+      has been seized. I have more than once, even in the most dangerous times,
+      heard him (in confidence) express the strongest attachment to the
+      descendant of the good master, who loaded him in his childhood with
+      favours. These sentiments he has been, of course, obliged to dissemble,
+      and to profess directly the contrary principles: it can only be by such
+      means that he can gain possession of the estate, which he wishes to
+      restore to the rightful owners. He passes for as great a scoundrel as his
+      father: this is not the least of his merits. But, madam, you may depend
+      upon the correctness of my information, and of my knowledge of his
+      character. I was once, as a man of science, under obligation to the late
+      Comte de Coulanges, who gave me the use of his library; and most happy
+      should I think myself, if I could by any means be instrumental in
+      restoring his descendants to the possession of that library.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was such an air of truth and frankness in the countenance and manner
+      of this gentleman, that, notwithstanding the extraordinary nature of his
+      information, and the still more extraordinary facility with which it was
+      communicated, Lady Littleton could not help believing him. He gave her
+      ladyship his address; told her that he should return to Paris in a few
+      days; and that he should be happy if he could be made, in any manner,
+      useful to Mad. de Coulanges. Impatient to impart all this good news to her
+      friends, Lady Littleton hastened to Mrs. Somers&rsquo;; but just as she put her
+      hand on the lock of Emilie&rsquo;s door, she recollected Mrs. Somers, and
+      determined to tell her the first, that she might have the pleasure of
+      communicating the joyful tidings. From her knowledge of the temper of her
+      friend, Lady Littleton thought that this would be peculiarly gratifying to
+      her; but, contrary to all rational expectation, Mrs. Somers heard the news
+      with an air of extreme mortification, which soon turned into anger. She
+      got up and walked about the room, whilst Lady Littleton was speaking; and,
+      as soon as she had finished her story, exclaimed, &ldquo;Was there ever any
+      thing so provoking!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She continued walking, deep in reverie, whilst Lady Littleton sat looking
+      at her in amazement. Mrs. Somers having once formed the <i>generous</i>
+      scheme of enriching Emilie by a marriage with her son, was actually
+      disappointed to find that there was a probability that Mlle. de Coulanges
+      should recover a fortune which would make her more than a suitable match
+      for Mr. Somers. There was another circumstance that was still more
+      provoking&mdash;this property was likely to be recovered without the
+      assistance of Mrs. Somers. There are people who would rather that their
+      best friends should miss a piece of good fortune than that they should
+      obtain it without their intervention. Mrs. Somers at length quieted her
+      own mind by the idea that all Lady Littleton had heard might have no
+      foundation in truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am surprised, my dear friend, that a person of your excellent judgment
+      can, for an instant, believe such a strange story as this,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Somers. &ldquo;I assure you, I do not give the slightest credit to it; and, in
+      my opinion, it would be much better not to say one word about the matter,
+      either to Emilie or Mad. de Coulanges: it will only fill their minds with
+      false and absurd hopes. Mad. de Coulanges will torment herself and me to
+      death with conjectures and exclamations; and we shall hear of nothing but
+      the Hotel de Coulanges, and the Chateau de Coulanges, from morning till
+      night; and, after all, I am convinced she will never see either of them
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To this assertion, which Mrs. Somers could support only by repeating that
+      it was her conviction&mdash;that it was her unalterable conviction&mdash;Lady
+      Littleton simply replied, that it would be improper not to mention what
+      had happened to Mad. de Coulanges, because this would deprive her of an
+      opportunity of judging and acting for herself in her own affairs. &ldquo;This
+      French gentleman has offered to carry letters, or to do her any service in
+      his power; and we should not be justifiable in concealing this: the
+      information may be false, but of that Mad. de Coulanges should at least
+      have an opportunity of judging; she should see this botanist, and she will
+      recollect whether what he says of the count, and his allowing him the use
+      of his library, be true or false: from these circumstances we may obtain
+      some farther reason to believe or disbelieve him. I should be sorry to
+      excite hopes which must end in disappointment; but the chance of good, in
+      this case, appears to me far greater than the chance of evil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, my dear Lady Littleton,&rdquo; interrupted Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;you will
+      follow your judgment, and I must be allowed to follow mine, though I make
+      no doubt that yours is superior. Manage this business as you please: I
+      will have nothing to do with it. It is your opinion that Mad. de Coulanges
+      and her daughter should hear this wonderfully fine story; therefore I beg
+      you will be the relater&mdash;I must be excused&mdash;for my part, I can&rsquo;t
+      give any credit to it&mdash;no, not the slightest. But your judgment is
+      better than mine, Lady Littleton&mdash;you will act as you think proper,
+      and manage the whole business yourself&mdash;I am sure I wish you success
+      with all my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Littleton, by a mixture of firmness and gentleness in her manner, so
+      far worked upon the temper of Mrs. Somers, as to prevail upon her to
+      believe that the management of the business was not her object; and she
+      even persuaded Mrs. Somers to be present when the intelligence was
+      communicated to Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie. She could not, however,
+      forbear repeating, that she did not believe the story:&mdash;this
+      incredulity afforded her a plausible pretext for not sympathizing in the
+      general joy. Mad. de Coulanges was alternately in ecstasy and in despair,
+      as she listened to Lady Littleton or to Mrs. Somers: her exclamations
+      would have been much less frequent and violent, if Mrs. Somers had not
+      provoked them, by mixing with her hopes a large portion of fear. The next
+      day, when she saw the French gentleman, her hopes were predominant: for
+      she recollected perfectly having seen this gentleman, in former times, at
+      the Hotel de Coulanges; she knew that he was <i>un savant</i>; and that he
+      had, before the revolution, the reputation of being a very worthy man.
+      Mad. de Coulanges, by Lady Littleton&rsquo;s advice, determined, however, to be
+      cautious in what she wrote to send to France by this gentleman. Emilie
+      took the letters to Mrs. Somers, and requested her opinion; but she
+      declined giving any.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have nothing to do with the business, Mlle. de Coulanges,&rdquo; said she;
+      &ldquo;you will be guided by the opinion of my Lady Littleton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie saw that it was in vain to expostulate; she retired in silence,
+      much embarrassed as to the answer which she was to give to her mother, who
+      was waiting to hear the opinion of Mrs. Somers. Mad. de Coulanges,
+      impatient with Emilie, for bringing her only a reference to Lady
+      Littleton&rsquo;s opinion, went herself, with what she thought the most amiable
+      politeness, to solicit the advice of Mrs. Somers; but she was astonished,
+      and absolutely shocked, by the coldness and want of good breeding with
+      which this lady persisted in a refusal to have any thing to do with the
+      business, or even to read the letters which waited for her judgment. The
+      countess opened her large eyes to their utmost orbicular extent; and,
+      after a moment&rsquo;s <i>silence</i>, the strongest possible expression that
+      she could give of amazement, she also retired, and returned to Emilie, to
+      demand from her an explanation of what she could not understand. The
+      ill-humour of Mrs. Somers, now that Mad. de Coulanges was wakened to the
+      perception of it, was not, as it had been to poor Emilie, a subject of
+      continual anxiety and pain, but merely matter of astonishment and
+      curiosity. She looked upon Mrs. Somers as an English <i>oddity</i>, as a
+      <i>lusus naturæ</i>; and she alternately asked Emilie to account for these
+      strange appearances, or shrugged up her shoulders, and submitted to the
+      impossibility of a Frenchwoman&rsquo;s ever understanding such <i>extravagances</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah que c&rsquo;est bizarre! Mais, mon enfant, expliquez moi done tout ça&mdash;Mais
+      ça ne s&rsquo;explique point&mdash;Certes c&rsquo;est une Anglaise qui sçait donner,
+      mais qui ne sçait pas vivre.&mdash;Voltaire s&rsquo;y connaissait mieux que moi
+      apparemment&mdash;et heureusement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Content with this easy method of settling things, Mad. de Coulanges sealed
+      and despatched her letters, appealed no more to Mrs. Somers for advice,
+      and, when she saw any extraordinary signs of displeasure, repeated to
+      herself&mdash;&ldquo;Ah que c&rsquo;est bizarre!&rdquo; And this phrase was for some time a
+      quieting charm. But as the anxiety of the countess increased, at the time
+      when she expected to receive the decisive answer from her steward&rsquo;s son,
+      she talked with incessant and uncontrollable volubility of her hopes and
+      fears&mdash;her conjectures and calculations&mdash;and of the Chateau and
+      Hotel de Coulanges; and she could not endure to see that Mrs. Somers heard
+      all this with affected coldness or real impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is this possible, Emilie?&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;Here is a woman who would give
+      me half her fortune, and who yet seems to wish that I should not recover
+      the whole of mine! Here is a woman who would move heaven and earth to
+      serve me in her own way; but who, nevertheless, will not give me either a
+      word of advice or a look of sympathy, in the most important affair and the
+      most anxious moment of my life! But this is more than <i>bizarre</i>&mdash;this
+      is intolerably provoking. For my part, I would rather a friend would deny
+      me any thing than sympathy: without sympathy, there is no society&mdash;there
+      is no living&mdash;there is no talking. I begin to feel my obligations a
+      burden; and, positively, with the first money I receive from my estates, I
+      will relieve myself from my pecuniary debt to this generous but
+      incomprehensible Englishwoman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Every day Emilie dreaded the arrival of the post, when her mother asked,
+      &ldquo;Are there any letters from Paris?&rdquo;&mdash;Constantly the answer was&mdash;&ldquo;No.&rdquo;&mdash;Mrs.
+      Somers&rsquo; look was triumphant; and Mad. de Coulanges applied regularly to
+      her smelling-bottle or her snuff-box to conceal her emotion, which Mrs.
+      Somers increased by indirect reflections upon the absurdity of those who
+      listen to idle reports, and build castles in the air. Having set her
+      opinion in opposition to Lady Littleton&rsquo;s, she supported it with a degree
+      of obstinacy, and even acrimony, which made her often transgress the
+      bounds of that politeness which she had formerly maintained in all her
+      differences with the comtesse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges could no longer consider her humour as merely <i>bizarre</i>,
+      she found it <i>insupportable</i>; and Mrs. Somers appeared to her totally
+      changed, and absolutely odious, now that she was roused by her own
+      sufferings to the perception of those evils which Emilie had long borne
+      with all the firmness of principle, and all the philosophy of gratitude.
+      Not a day passed without her complaining to Emilie of some <i>grossièreté</i>
+      from Mrs. Somers. Mad. de Coulanges suffered so much from irritation and
+      anxiety, that her <i>vapeurs noirs</i> returned with tenfold violence.
+      Emilie had loved Mrs. Somers, even when most unreasonable towards herself,
+      as long as she behaved with kindness to her mother; but now that, instead
+      of a source of pleasure, she became the hourly cause of pain to Mad. de
+      Coulanges, Emilie&rsquo;s affection could no farther go; and she really began to
+      dislike this lady&mdash;to dread to see her come into the room&mdash;and
+      to tremble at hearing her voice. Emilie could judge only by what she saw;
+      and she could not divine that Mrs. Somers was occupied, all this time,
+      with the generous scheme of marrying her to her son and heir, and of
+      settling upon her a large fortune; nor could she guess, that all the
+      ill-humour in Mrs. Somers originated in the fear that her friends should
+      be made either rich or happy without her assistance. Her son&rsquo;s delaying to
+      return home, according to her mandate, had disappointed and vexed her
+      extremely. Every day, when the post came in, she inquired for letters with
+      almost as much eagerness as Mad. de Coulanges. At length a letter came
+      from Mr. Somers, to inform his impatient mother that he should certainly
+      be in town the beginning of the ensuing week. Delighted by this news, she
+      could not refrain from the temptation of opening her whole mind to Emilie;
+      though she had previously resolved not to give the slightest intimation of
+      her scheme to any one, not even to Lady Littleton, till a definitive
+      answer had been received from Paris, respecting the fortune of Mad. de
+      Coulanges. Often, when Mrs. Somers was full of some magnanimous design,
+      the merest trifle that interrupted the full display of her generosity
+      threw her into a passion, even with those whom she was going to serve. So
+      it happened in the present instance. She went, with her open letter in her
+      hand, to the countess&rsquo;s apartment, where unluckily she found M. de Brisac,
+      who was going to read the French newspapers to madame. Mrs. Somers sat
+      down beside Emilie, who was painting the last flower of her watch of
+      Flora. Mrs. Somers wrote on a slip of paper, &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t ask M. de Brisac to
+      read the papers, for I want to speak to you.&rdquo; She threw down the note
+      before Emilie, who was so intent upon what she was about, that she did not
+      immediately see it&mdash;Mrs. Somers touched her elbow&mdash;Emilie
+      started, and let fall her brush, which made a blot upon her dial-plate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! what a pity!&mdash;Just as I had finished my work,&rdquo; cried Emilie, &ldquo;I
+      have spoiled it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      M. de Brisac laid down the newspaper to pour forth compliments of
+      condolence.&mdash;Mrs. Somers tore the piece of paper as he approached the
+      table, and said, with some asperity, &ldquo;One would think this was a matter of
+      life and death, by the terms in which it is deplored.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      M. de Brisac, who stood so that Mrs. Somers could not see him, shrugged
+      his shoulders, and looked at Mad. de Coulanges, who answered him by
+      another look, that plainly said, &ldquo;This is English politeness!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie, who saw that her mother was displeased, endeavoured to change the
+      course of her thoughts, by begging M. de Brisac to go on with what he was
+      reading from the French papers. This was a fresh provocation to Mrs.
+      Somers, who forgot that Emilie had not read the words on the slip of paper
+      which had been torn; and consequently could not know all Mrs. Somers&rsquo;
+      impatience for his departure. M. de Brisac read, in what this lady called
+      his <i>unemphatic French tone</i>, paragraph after paragraph, and column
+      after column, whilst her anxiety to have him go every moment increased.
+      She moulded her son&rsquo;s letter into all manner of shapes as she sat in
+      penance. To complete her misfortunes, something in the paper put Mad. de
+      Coulanges in mind of former times; and she began a long history of the
+      destruction of some fine old tapestry hangings in the Chateau de
+      Coulanges, at the beginning of the Revolution: this led to endless
+      melancholy reflections; and at length tears began to flow from the fine
+      eyes of the countess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just at this instant a butterfly flew into the room, and passed by Mad. de
+      Coulanges, who was sitting near the open window. &ldquo;Oh! the beautiful
+      butterfly!&rdquo; cried she, starting up to catch it. &ldquo;Did you ever see such a
+      charming creature? Catch it, M. de Brisac!&mdash;Catch it, Emilie!&mdash;Catch
+      it, Mrs. Somers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the tears yet upon her cheeks, Mad. de Coulanges began the chase, and
+      M. de Brisac followed, beating the air with his perfumed handkerchief, and
+      the butterfly fluttered round the table at which Emilie was standing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh! M. de Brisac, catch it!&mdash;Catch it, Emilie!&rdquo; repeated her mother.&mdash;&ldquo;Catch
+      it, Mrs. Somers, for the love of Heaven!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>For the love of Heaven</i>!&rdquo; repeated Mrs. Somers, who, immovably
+      grave, and sullenly indignant, kept aloof during this chase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! pour le coup, papillon, je te tiens!&rdquo; cried la comtesse, and with
+      eager joy she covered it with a glass, as it lighted on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mlle. de Coulanges,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;I acknowledge, now, that I was
+      wrong in my criticism of Caroline de Lichteld. I blamed the author for
+      representing Caroline, at fifteen, or just when she is going to be
+      married, as running after butterflies. I said that, at that age, it was
+      too frivolous&mdash;out of drawing&mdash;out of nature. But I should have
+      said only, that it was out of <i>English nature</i>.&mdash;I stand
+      corrected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges and M. de Brisac again interchanged looks, which
+      expressed &ldquo;<i>Est-il possible</i>!&rdquo; And la comtesse then, with an unusual
+      degree of deliberation and dignity in her manner, walked out of the room.
+      Emilie, who saw that her mother was extremely offended, was much
+      embarrassed&mdash;she went on washing the blot out of her drawing. M. de
+      Brisac stood silently looking over her, and Mrs. Somers opposite to him,
+      wishing him fairly at the antipodes. M. de Brisac, to break the silence,
+      which seemed to him as if it never would be broken, asked Mlle. de
+      Coulanges if she had ever seen the stadtholder&rsquo;s fine collection of
+      butterflies, and if she did not admire them extremely? No, she never had;
+      but she said that she admired extremely the generosity the stadtholder had
+      shown in sacrificing, not only his fine collection of butterflies, but his
+      most valuable pictures, to save the lives of the poor French emigrants,
+      who were under his protection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the sound of the word generosity, Mrs. Somers became attentive; and
+      Emilie was in hopes that she would recover her temper, and apologize to
+      her mother: but at this moment a servant came to tell Mlle. de Coulanges
+      that la comtesse wished to speak to her immediately. She found her mother
+      in no humour to receive any apology, even if it had been offered: nothing
+      could have hurt Mad. de Coulanges more than the imputation of being
+      frivolous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Frivole!&mdash;frivole!&mdash;moi frivole!&rdquo; she repeated, as soon as
+      Emilie entered the room. &ldquo;My dear Emilie! I would not live with this Mrs.
+      Somers for the rest of my days, were she to offer me the Pitt diamond, or
+      the whole mines of Golconda!&mdash;Bon Dieu!&mdash;neither money nor
+      diamonds, after all, can pay for the want of kindness and politeness!&mdash;There
+      is Lady Littleton, who has never done us any favour, but that of showing
+      us attention and sympathy; I protest I love her a million of times better
+      than I can love Mrs. Somers, to whom we owe so much. It is in vain,
+      Emilie, to remind me that she is our benefactress. I have said that over
+      and over to myself, till I am tired, and till I have absolutely lost all
+      sense of the meaning of the word. Bitterly do I repent having accepted of
+      such obligations from this strange woman; for, as to the idea of regaining
+      our estate, and paying my debt to her, I have given up all hopes of it.
+      You see that we have no letters from France. I am quite tired out. I am
+      convinced that we shall never have any good news from Paris. And I cannot,
+      I will not, remain longer in this house. Would you have me submit to be
+      treated with disrespect? Mrs. Somers has affronted me before M. de Brisac,
+      in a manner that I cannot, that I ought not, to endure&mdash;that you,
+      Emilie, ought not to wish me to endure. I positively will not live upon
+      the bounty of Mrs. Somers. There is but one way of extricating ourselves.
+      M. de Brisac&mdash;Why do you turn pale, child?&mdash;M. de Brisac has
+      this morning made me a proposal for you, and the best thing we can
+      possibly do is to accept of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The best!&mdash;Pray don&rsquo;t say the best!&rdquo; cried Emilie. &ldquo;Ah! dear mamma,
+      for me the worst! Let me beseech you not to sacrifice my happiness for
+      ever by such a marriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what other can you expect, Emilie, in your present circumstances?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None,&rdquo; said Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And here is an establishment&mdash;at least an independence for you&mdash;and
+      you call it sacrificing your happiness for ever to accept of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;because it is offered to me by one whom I can neither
+      love nor esteem. Dearest mamma! can you forget all his former meanness of
+      conduct?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His present behaviour makes amends for the past,&rdquo; said Mad. de Coulanges,
+      &ldquo;and entitles him to my esteem and to yours, and that is sufficient. As to
+      love&mdash;well educated girls do not marry for love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they ought not to marry without feeling love, should they?&rdquo; said
+      Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emilie! Emilie!&rdquo; said her mother, &ldquo;these are strange ideas that have come
+      into the heads of young women since the Revolution. If you had remained
+      safe in your convent, I should have heard none of this nonsense.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not, mamma,&rdquo; said Emilie, with a deep sigh. &ldquo;But should I have
+      been happier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fine question, truly!&mdash;How can I tell? But this I can ask you&mdash;How
+      can any girl expect to be happy, who abandons the principles in which she
+      was bred up, and forgets her duty to the mother by whom she has been
+      educated&mdash;the mother, whose pride, whose delight, whose darling, she
+      has ever been? Oh, Emilie! this is to me worse than all I have ever
+      suffered!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges burst into a passion of tears, and Emilie stood looking
+      at her in silent despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emilie, you cannot deceive me,&rdquo; cried her mother; &ldquo;you cannot pretend
+      that it is simply your want of esteem for M. de Brisac which renders you
+      thus obstinately averse to the match. You are in love with another
+      person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in love,&rdquo; said Emilie, in a faltering voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot deceive me, Emilie&mdash;remember all you said to me about the
+      stranger who was our fellow prisoner at the Abbaye. You cannot deny this,
+      Emilie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor do I, dear mamma,&rdquo; said Emilie. &ldquo;I <i>cannot</i> deceive you, indeed
+      I <i>would</i> not; and the best proof that I do not wish to deceive you&mdash;that
+      I never attempted it&mdash;is, that I told you all I thought and felt
+      about that stranger. I told you that his honourable, brave, and generous
+      conduct towards us, when we were in distress, made an impression upon my
+      heart&mdash;that I preferred him to any person I had ever seen&mdash;and I
+      told you, my dear mamma, that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You told me too much,&rdquo; interrupted Mad. de Coulanges; &ldquo;more than I wished
+      to hear&mdash;more than I will have repeated, Emilie. This is romance and
+      nonsense. The man, whoever he was&mdash;and Heaven knows who he was!&mdash;behaved
+      very well, and was a very agreeable person: but what then? are you ever
+      likely to see him again? Do you even know his birth&mdash;his name&mdash;his
+      country&mdash;or any thing about him, but that he was brave and generous?&mdash;So
+      are fifty other men, five hundred, five thousand, five million, I hope.
+      But is this any reason that you should refuse to marry M. de Brisac? Henry
+      the Fourth was brave and generous two hundred years ago. That is as much
+      to the purpose. You have as much chance of establishing yourself, if you
+      wait for Henry the Fourth to come to life again, as if you wait for this
+      nameless nobody of a hero&mdash;who is perhaps married, after all&mdash;who
+      knows!&mdash;Really, Emilie, this is too absurd!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, dear mamma, I cannot marry one man and love another&mdash;love I did
+      not quite mean to say. But whilst I prefer another, I cannot, in honour,
+      marry M. de Brisac.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honour!&mdash;Love!&mdash;But in France, in my time, who ever heard of a
+      young lady&rsquo;s being in love before she was married? You astonish, you
+      frighten, you shock me, child! Recollect yourself, Emilie! Misfortune may
+      have deprived you of the vast possessions to which you are heiress; but do
+      not, therefore, degrade yourself and me by forgetting your principles, and
+      all that the representative of the house of Coulanges ought to remember.
+      And as for myself&mdash;have I no claim upon your affections, Emilie?&mdash;have
+      not I been a fond mother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; said Emilie, melting into tears. &ldquo;Of your kindness I think more
+      than of any thing else!&mdash;more than of the whole house of Coulanges!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not let me see you in tears, child!&rdquo; said Mad. de Coulanges, moved by
+      Emilie&rsquo;s grief. &ldquo;Your tears hurt my nerves more even than Mrs. Somers&rsquo; <i>grossièreté</i>.
+      You must blame Mrs. Somers, not me, for all this&mdash;her temper drives
+      me to it&mdash;I cannot live with her. We have no alternative. Emilie, my
+      sweet child! make me happy!&mdash;I am miserable in this house. Hitherto
+      you have ever been the best of daughters, and you shall find me the most
+      indulgent of mothers. One whole month I will give you to change your mind,
+      and recollect your duty. At the end of that time, I must see you Mad. de
+      Brisac, and in a house of your own.&mdash;In the house of Mrs. Somers I
+      will not, I cannot longer remain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor Emilie was glad of the reprieve of one month. She retired from her
+      mother&rsquo;s presence in silent anguish, and hastened to her own apartment,
+      that she might give way to her grief. There she found Mrs. Somers waiting
+      for her, seated in an arm-chair, with an open letter in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you start, Emilie? You look as if you were sorry to find me here,&rdquo;
+       cried Mrs. Somers&mdash;&ldquo;IF THAT be the case, Mlle. de Coulanges&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mrs. Somers! do not begin to quarrel with me at this moment, for I
+      shall not be able to bear it&mdash;I am sufficiently unhappy already!&rdquo;
+       said Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am extremely sorry that any thing should make you unhappy, Emilie,&rdquo;
+       said Mrs. Somers; &ldquo;but I think that you had never less reason than at this
+      moment to suspect me of an intention of quarrelling with you&mdash;I came
+      here with a very different design. May I know the cause of your distress?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie hesitated, for she did not know how to explain the cause without
+      imputing blame either to Mrs. Somers or to her mother&mdash;she could only
+      say&mdash;&ldquo;<i>M. de Brisac</i>&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;your mother wants you to marry him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Immediately?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In one month.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you have consented?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>But</i>&mdash;Good Heavens! Emilie, what weakness of mind there is in
+      that <i>but</i>&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it weakness of mind to fear to disobey my mother&mdash;to dread to
+      offend her for ever&mdash;to render her unhappy&mdash;and to deprive her,
+      perhaps, even of the means of subsistence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>The means of subsistence</i>! my dear. This phrase, you know, can only
+      be a figure of rhetoric,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers. &ldquo;Your refusing M. de Brisac
+      cannot deprive your mother of the means of subsistence. In the first
+      place, she expects to recover her property in France.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;she has given up these hopes&mdash;you have persuaded
+      her that they are vain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I think them so. But still you must know, my dear, that your
+      mother can never be in want of the means of subsistence, nor any of the
+      conveniences, and, I may add, luxuries of life, whilst I am alive.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie sighed; and when Mrs. Somers urged her more closely, she said,
+      &ldquo;Mamma has not, till lately, been accustomed to live on the bounty of
+      others; the sense of dependence produces many painful feelings, and
+      renders people more susceptible than perhaps they would be, were they on
+      terms of equality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To what does all this tend, my dear?&rdquo; interrupted Mrs. Somers. &ldquo;Is Mad.
+      de Coulanges offended with me?&mdash;Is she tired of living with me?&mdash;Does
+      she wish to quit my house?&mdash;And where does she intend to go?&mdash;Oh!
+      that is a question that I need not ask!&mdash;Yes, yes&mdash;I have long
+      foreseen it&mdash;you have arranged it admirably&mdash;you go to Lady
+      Littleton, I presume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To M. de Brisac?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mamma wishes to go&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then to M. de Brisac, for Heaven&rsquo;s sake, let her go,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers,
+      bursting into a fit of laughter, which astonished Emilie beyond measure.
+      &ldquo;To M. de Brisac let her go&mdash;&lsquo;tis the best thing she can possibly do,
+      my dear; and seriously to tell you the truth, I have always thought it
+      would be an excellent match. Since she is so much prepossessed in his
+      favour, can she do better than marry him? and, as he is so much attached
+      to the house of Coulanges, when he cannot have the daughter, can he do
+      better than marry the mother?&mdash;Your mother does not look too old for
+      him, when she is well rouged; and I am sure, if she heard me say so, she
+      would forgive me all the rest&mdash;butterfly, frivolity, and all
+      inclusive. Permit me, Emilie, to laugh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot permit any body to laugh at mamma,&rdquo; said Emilie; &ldquo;and Mrs.
+      Somers is the last person whom I should have supposed would have been
+      inclined to laugh, when I told her that I was really unhappy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Emilie, I forgive you for being angry, because I never saw you
+      angry before; and that is more than you can say for me. You do me justice,
+      however, by supposing that I should be the last person to laugh when you
+      are in woe, unless I thought&mdash;unless I was sure&mdash;that I could
+      remove the cause, and make you completely happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, I fear, is impossible,&rdquo; said Emilie: &ldquo;for mamma&rsquo;s pride and her
+      feelings have been so much hurt, that I do not think any apology would now
+      calm her mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Apology!&mdash;I am not in the least inclined to make any. Can I tell
+      Mad. de Coulanges that I do not think her frivolous?&mdash;Impossible,
+      indeed, my dear! I will do any thing else to oblige you. But I have as
+      much pride, and as much feeling, in my own way, as any of the house of
+      Coulanges: and if, after all I have done, madame can quarrel with me about
+      a butterfly, I must say, not only that she is the most frivolous, but the
+      most ungrateful woman upon earth; and, as she desires to quit my house,
+      far from attempting to detain her, I can only wish that she may accomplish
+      her purpose as soon as possible&mdash;as soon as it may suit her own
+      convenience. As for you, Emilie, I do not suspect you of the ingratitude
+      of wishing to leave me&mdash;I can make distinctions, even when I have
+      most reason to be angry. I do not blame you, my dear&mdash;I do not ever
+      ask you to blame your mother. I respect your filial piety&mdash;I am sure
+      you must think her to blame, but I do not desire you to say so. Could any
+      thing be more barbarously selfish than the plan of marrying <i>you</i> to
+      this M. de Brisac, that <i>she</i> might have an establishment more to her
+      taste than my house has been able to afford?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie attempted, but in vain, to say a few words for her mother. Mrs.
+      Somers ran on with her own thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And at what a time, at what a cruel time for me, did Mad. de Coulanges
+      choose to express her desire to leave my house&mdash;at the moment when my
+      whole soul was intent upon a scheme for the happiness of her daughter!
+      Yes, Emilie, for your happiness!&mdash;and, my dear, your mother&rsquo;s conduct
+      shall change nothing in my views. You I have always found uniformly kind,
+      gentle, grateful&mdash;I will say no more&mdash;I have found in you,
+      Emilie, real magnanimity. I have tried your temper much&mdash;sometimes
+      too much&mdash;but I have always found you proof against these petty
+      trials. Your character is suited to mine. I love you, as if you were my
+      daughter, and I wish you to be my daughter.&mdash;Now you know my whole
+      mind, Emilie. My son&mdash;my <i>eldest</i> son, I should with emphasis
+      say, if I were speaking to Mad. de Coulanges&mdash;will be here in a few
+      days: read this letter. How happy I shall be if you find him&mdash;or if
+      you will make him&mdash;such as you can entirely approve and love! You
+      will have power over him&mdash;your influence will do what his mother&rsquo;s
+      never could accomplish. But whatever reasons I may have to complain of
+      him, this is not the time to state them&mdash;you will connect him with
+      me. At all events, he is a man of honour and a gentleman; and as he is
+      not, thank Heaven! under the debasing necessity of considering fortune in
+      the choice of a wife, he is, at least in this respect, worthy of my dear
+      and high-minded Emilie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers paused, and fixed her eyes eagerly on Emilie, impatient for
+      her answer, and already half provoked by not seeing the sudden transition
+      of countenance which she had pictured in her imagination. With a mixture
+      of dignity and affectionate gratitude in her manner, Emilie was beginning
+      to thank Mrs. Somers for the generous kindness of her intention; but this
+      susceptible lady interrupted her, and exclaimed, &ldquo;Spare me your thanks,
+      Mlle. de Coulanges, and tell me at once what is passing in your mind; for
+      something very extraordinary is certainly passing there, which I cannot
+      comprehend. Surely you cannot for a moment imagine that your mother will
+      insist upon your now accepting of M. de Brisac; or, if she does, surely
+      you would not have the weakness to yield. I must have some proof of
+      strength of mind from my friends. You must judge for yourself, Emilie, or
+      you are not the person I take you for. You will have full opportunity of
+      judging in a few days. Will you promise me that you will decide entirely
+      for yourself, and that you will keep your mind unbiassed? Will you promise
+      me this? And will you speak, at all events, my dear, that I may understand
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie, who saw that even before she spoke Mrs. Somers was on the brink of
+      anger, trembled at the idea of confessing the truth&mdash;that her heart
+      was already biassed in favour of another: she had, however, the courage to
+      explain to her all that passed in her mind. Mrs. Somers heard her with
+      inexpressible disappointment. She was silent for some minutes. At last she
+      said, in a voice of constrained passion, &ldquo;Mlle. de Coulanges, I have only
+      one question to ask of you&mdash;you will reflect before you answer it,
+      because on your reply depends the continuance or utter dissolution of our
+      friendship&mdash;do you, or do you not, think proper to refuse my son
+      before you have seen him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before I have seen Mr. Somers, it surely can be no affront to you or to
+      him,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;to decline an offer that I cannot accept, especially
+      when I give as my reason, that my mind is prepossessed in favour of
+      another. With that prepossession, I cannot unite myself to your son: I can
+      only express to you my gratitude&mdash;my most sincere gratitude&mdash;for
+      your kind and generous intentions, and my hopes that he will find, amongst
+      his own countrywomen, one more suited to him than I can be. His fortune is
+      far above&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say no more, I beg, Mlle. de Coulanges&mdash;I asked only for a simple
+      answer to a plain question. You refuse my son&mdash;you refuse to be my
+      daughter. I am satisfied&mdash;perfectly satisfied. I suppose you have
+      arranged to go to Lady Littleton&rsquo;s. I heartily hope that she may be able
+      to make her house more agreeable to you than I could render mine. Shake
+      hands, Mlle. de Coulanges. You have my best wishes for your health and
+      happiness&mdash;Here we part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! do not let us part in anger!&rdquo; said Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In anger!&mdash;not in the least&mdash;I never was cooler in my life. You
+      have completely cooled me&mdash;you have shown me the folly of that warmth
+      of friendship which can meet with no return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would it be a suitable return for your warm friendship to deceive your
+      son?&rdquo; said Emilie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To deceive me, I think still less suitable!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how have I deceived you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know best. Why was I kept in ignorance till the last moment? Why did
+      you never confide your thoughts to me, Emilie? Why did you never till now
+      say one word to me of this strange attachment?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was no necessity for speaking till now,&rdquo; said Emilie. &ldquo;It is a
+      subject I never named to any one except to mamma&mdash;a subject on which
+      I did not think it right to speak to any one but to a parent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your notions of right and wrong, ma&rsquo;am, differ widely from mine&mdash;we
+      are not fit to live together. I have no idea of a friend&rsquo;s concealing any
+      thing from me: without entire confidence, there is no friendship&mdash;at
+      least no friendship with me. Pray no tears. I am not fond of <i>scenes</i>.
+      Nobody ever is that feels much.&mdash;Adieu!&mdash;Adieu!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers hurried out of the room, repeating, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll write directly&mdash;this
+      instant&mdash;to Lady Littleton. Mad. de Coulanges shall not be kept
+      prisoner in <i>my</i> house.&rdquo; Emilie stood motionless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes Mrs. Somers returned with an unfolded letter, which she
+      put into Emilie&rsquo;s passive hand. &ldquo;Read it, ma&rsquo;am, I beg&mdash;read it. I do
+      every thing openly&mdash;every thing handsomely, I hope&mdash;whatever may
+      be my faults.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The letter was written with a rapid hand, which was scarcely legible,
+      especially to a foreigner. Emilie, with her eyes full of tears, had no
+      chance of deciphering it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not hurry yourself, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers. &ldquo;I will leave you my
+      letter to show to madame la comtesse, and then you will be so good as to
+      despatch it.&mdash;Mlle. de Coulanges,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, &ldquo;you will be so
+      obliging as to refrain from mentioning to the countess the foolish offer
+      that I made you in my son&rsquo;s name this morning. There is no necessity for
+      mortifying my pride any farther&mdash;a refusal from you is quite decisive&mdash;so
+      pray let there be no consultations. As to the rest, the blame of our
+      disagreement will of course be thrown upon me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Emilie moved towards the door, Mrs. Somers said, &ldquo;Mlle. de Coulanges, I
+      beg pardon for calling you back: but should you ever think of this
+      business or of me, hereafter, you will do me the justice to remember that
+      I made the proposal to you at a time when I was under the firm belief that
+      you would never recover an inch of your estates in France.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, dear Mrs. Somers, if you should ever think of me hereafter,&rdquo;
+       said Emilie, &ldquo;will, I hope, remember that my answer was given under the
+      same belief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a look which seemed to refuse assent, Mrs. Somers continued, &ldquo;I am as
+      well aware, ma&rsquo;am, as you, or Mad. de Coulanges, can be, that if you
+      should recover your hereditary property, the heiress of the house of
+      Coulanges would be a person to whom my son should not presume to aspire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mrs. Somers! Is not this cruel mockery&mdash;undeserved by me&mdash;unworthy
+      of you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mockery!&mdash;Ma&rsquo;am, it is not three days since your mother was so
+      positive in her expectations of being in the Hotel de Coulanges before
+      next winter, that she was almost in fits because I ventured to differ on
+      this point from her and Lady Littleton&mdash;Lady Littleton&rsquo;s judgment is
+      much better than mine, and has, of course, had its weight&mdash;very
+      justly&mdash;But I insist upon your understanding clearly that it had no
+      weight with me in this affair. Whatever you may imagine, I never thought
+      of the Coulanges estate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me, I never could have imagined that you did. If <i>I</i> could
+      suspect Mrs. Somers of interested motives,&rdquo; said Emilie, with emotion so
+      great that she could scarcely articulate the words, &ldquo;I must be an
+      unfeeling&mdash;an ungrateful idiot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not an idiot, Mlle. de Coulanges&mdash;nobody can mistake you for an
+      idiot: but, as I was going to say, if you inquire, Lady Littleton can tell
+      you that I was absolutely provoked when I first heard you had a chance of
+      recovering your property&mdash;you may smile, ma&rsquo;am, but it is perfectly
+      true. I own I might have been more prudent; but prudence, in affairs of
+      the heart, is not one of my virtues: I own, however, it would have been
+      more prudent to have refrained from making this proposal, till you had
+      received a positive answer from France.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why?&rdquo; said Emilie. &ldquo;Whatever that answer might have been, surely you
+      must be certain that it would not have made any alteration in my conduct.&mdash;You
+      are silent, Mrs. Somers!&mdash;You wound me to the heart!&mdash;Oh! do me
+      justice!&mdash;Justice is all I ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think that I do you justice&mdash;full justice&mdash;Mlle. de
+      Coulanges; and if it wounds you to the heart, I am sorry for it; but that
+      is not my fault.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie&rsquo;s countenance suddenly changed from the expression of supplicating
+      tenderness to haughty indignation. &ldquo;You doubt my integrity!&rdquo; she
+      exclaimed: &ldquo;then, indeed, Mrs. Somers, it is best that we should part!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mlle. de Coulanges disappeared, and Mrs. Somers shut herself up in her
+      room, where she walked backwards and forwards for above an hour, then
+      threw herself upon a sofa, and remained nearly another hour, till Mrs.
+      Masham came to say that it was time to dress for dinner. She then started
+      up, saying aloud, &ldquo;I will think no more of these ungrateful people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are gone, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Mrs. Masham&mdash;&ldquo;gone, and gave no vails!&mdash;which
+      I don&rsquo;t think <i>on</i>, upon my own account, God knows! for if millions
+      were offered me, in pocket-pieces, I would not touch one from any soul
+      that comes to the house, having enough, and more than enough, from my own
+      generous lady, who is the only person I stoop to receive from with
+      pleasure. But there are others in the house who are accustomed to vails,
+      and, after staying so long, it was a little ungenteel to go without so
+      much as offering any one any thing&mdash;and to go in such a hurry and
+      huff&mdash;taking only a French leave, after all! I must acknowledge with
+      you, ma&rsquo;am, that they are the ungratefullest people that ever were seen in
+      England. Why, ma&rsquo;am, I went backwards and forwards often enough into their
+      apartments, to try to make out the cause of the packings and messages to
+      the washer-woman, that I might inform you, but nothing transpired; yet I
+      am certain, in their hearts, they are more black and ungrateful than any
+      that ever were born; for there!&mdash;at the last moment, when even, for
+      old acquaintance sake, the tears stood in my eyes, there was Miss Emilie,
+      sitting as composedly as a judge, painting a butterfly&rsquo;s wing on some of
+      her Frenchifications! Her eyes were red, to do her justice; but whether
+      with painting or crying, I can&rsquo;t pretend to be certain. But as to Mad. de
+      Coulanges, I can answer for her that the sole thing in nature she thought
+      of, in leaving this house, was the bad step of the hackney-coach.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hackney-coach!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers, with surprise. &ldquo;Did they go away in a
+      hackney-coach?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma&rsquo;am, much against the countess&rsquo; stomach, I am sure: I only wish
+      you had seen the face she made when the glass would not come up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why did not they take my carriage, or wait for Lady Littleton&rsquo;s? They
+      were, it seems, in a violent hurry to be gone,&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it seems, indeed, ma&rsquo;am&mdash;no better proof of their being the most
+      ungratefullest people in the universe: but so it is, by all accounts, with
+      all of their nation&mdash;the French having no constant hearts for any
+      thing but singing, and dancing, and dressing, and making merry-andrews of
+      themselves. Indeed, I own, till to-day, I thought Miss Emilie had less of
+      the merry-andrew nature than any of her country; but the butterfly has
+      satisfied me that there is no striving against climate and natural
+      character, which conquer gratitude and every thing else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers sighed, and told Masham that she had said enough upon this
+      disagreeable subject. At dinner the subject was renewed by many visitors,
+      who, as soon as they found that Mad. and Mlle. de Coulanges had left Mrs.
+      Somers, began to find innumerable faults with the French in general, and
+      with the countess and her daughter in particular. On the chapter of
+      gratitude they were most severe; and Mrs. Somers was universally pitied
+      for having so much generosity, and blamed for having had so much patience.
+      Every body declared that they foresaw how she would be treated; and the
+      exclamations of wonder at Lady Littleton&rsquo;s inviting to her house those who
+      had behaved so ill to her friend were unceasing. Mrs. Somers all the time
+      denied that she had any cause of complaint against either Mad. de
+      Coulanges or her daughter; but the company judiciously trusted more to her
+      looks than her words. Every thing was said or hinted that could exasperate
+      her against her former favourites: for Mad. de Coulanges had made many
+      enemies by engrossing an unreasonable share in the conversation; and
+      Emilie by attracting too great a portion of attention by her beauty and
+      engaging manners. Malice often overshoots the mark: Mrs. Somers was at
+      first glad to hear the objects of her indignation abused; but at last she
+      began to think the profusion of blame greater than was merited, and when
+      she retired to rest at night, and when Masham began with &ldquo;Oh, ma&rsquo;am! do
+      you know that Mlle. de Coulanges&mdash;&rdquo; Mrs. Somers interrupted her, and
+      said, &ldquo;Masham, I desire to hear nothing more about Mlle. de Coulanges: I
+      have heard her and her mother abused, without ceasing, these two hours,
+      and that is enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord! ma&rsquo;am, I was not going to abuse them&mdash;God forbid! I was just
+      going to tell you,&rdquo; cried Masham, &ldquo;that never was any thing so mistaken as
+      all I said before dinner. Just now, ma&rsquo;am, when I went into the little
+      dressing-room, within Mad. de Coulanges&rsquo; room, and happened to open the
+      wardrobe, I was quite struck back with shame at my own unjustice: there,
+      ma&rsquo;am, poor Miss Emilie left something&mdash;and out of her best things!&mdash;to
+      every maid-servant in the house; all directed in her own hand, and with a
+      good word for each; and this ring for me, which she is kind enough to say
+      is of no value but to put me in mind of all the attentions I have shown
+      her and her mother&mdash;which, I am sure, were scarcely worth noticing,
+      especially at such a time when she had enough to do, and her heart full,
+      no doubt, poor soul!&mdash;There are her little paintings and
+      embroideries, and pretty things, that she did when she was confined with
+      her sprain, all laid out in order&mdash;&lsquo;tis my astonishment how she found
+      time!&mdash;and directed to her friends in London, as keep-sakes:&mdash;and
+      the very butterfly that I was so angry with her for staying to finish, is
+      on something for you, ma&rsquo;am; and here&rsquo;s a packet that was with it, and
+      that nobody saw till this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it me!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Somers. She tore it open, and found, in the first
+      place, the pocketbook, full of bank notes, which she had given Mad. de
+      Coulanges, with a few polite but haughty lines from the countess, saying
+      that only twenty guineas had been used, which she hoped, at some future
+      period, to be able to repay. Then came a note from Emilie, in which Mrs.
+      Somers found her own letter to Lady Littleton. Emilie expressed herself as
+      follows.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Many thanks for the enclosed, but we have determined not to go to
+    Lady Littleton&rsquo;s: at least we will take care not to be the cause
+    of quarrel between friends to whom we are so much obliged.&mdash;No,
+    dear Mrs. Somers! we do not part in anger. Excuse me, if the last
+    words I said to you were hasty&mdash;they were forced from me by a
+    moment of passion&mdash;but it is past: all your generosity, all your
+    kindness, the recollection of all that you have done, all that you
+    have wished for my happiness, rush upon my mind; and every other
+    thought, and every other feeling, is forgotten. Would to Heaven
+    that I could express to you my gratitude by actions!&mdash;but words,
+    alas! are all that I have in my power&mdash;and where shall I find
+    words that can reach your heart? I had better be silent, and trust
+    to time and to you. I know your generous temper&mdash;you will soon
+    blame yourself for having judged too severely of Emilie. But
+    do not reproach yourself&mdash;do not let this give you a moment&rsquo;s
+    uneasiness: the clouds pass away, and the blue sky remains. Think
+    only&mdash;as I ever shall&mdash;of your goodness to mamma and to me. Adieu!
+
+    &ldquo;EMILIE DE COULANGES.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers was much affected by this letter, and by the information that
+      Emilie and her mother had declined taking refuge with Lady Littleton, lest
+      they should occasion jealousies between her and her friend. Generous
+      people are, of all others, the most touched by generosity of sentiment or
+      of action. Mrs. Somers went to bed, enraged against herself&mdash;but it
+      was now too late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, Emilie and her mother were in an obscure lodging, at a
+      haberdasher&rsquo;s near Golden Square. The pride of Mad. de Coulanges, at
+      first, supported her even beyond her daughter&rsquo;s expectations; she uttered
+      no complaints, but frequently repeated, &ldquo;Mais nous sommes bien ici, très
+      bien&mdash;we cannot expect to have things as well as at the Hotel de
+      Coulanges.&rdquo; In a short time she was threatened with fits of her <i>vapeurs
+      noirs</i>; but Emilie, with the assistance of her whole store of French
+      songs, a bird-organ, a lap-dog, and a squirrel, belonging to the girl of
+      the house, contrived to avert the danger for the present&mdash;as to the
+      future, she trembled to think of it. M. de Brisac seemed to be continually
+      in her mother&rsquo;s thoughts; and whatever occurred, or whatever was the
+      subject of conversation, Mad. de Coulanges always found means to end with
+      &ldquo;<i>à propos de M. de Brisac</i>.&rdquo; Faithful to her promise, however, which
+      Emilie, with the utmost delicacy, recalled to her mind, she declared that
+      she would not give M. de Brisac an answer till the end of the month, which
+      she had allowed her daughter for reflection, and that, till that period,
+      she would not even let him know where they were to be found. Emilie
+      thought that the time went very fast, and her mother evidently rejoiced at
+      the idea that the month would soon be at an end. Emilie endeavoured, with
+      all her skill, to demonstrate to her mother that it would be possible to
+      support themselves, by her industry and ingenuity, without this marriage;
+      and to this, Mad. de Coulanges at first replied, &ldquo;Try, and you will soon
+      be tired, child.&rdquo; Emilie&rsquo;s spirits rose on receiving this permission: she
+      began by copying music for a music-shop in the neighbourhood; and her
+      mother saw, with astonishment, that she persevered in her design, and that
+      no fatigue or discouraging circumstances could vanquish her resolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens! my child,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you will wear yourself to a skeleton
+      with copying music, and with painting, and embroidery, besides stooping so
+      many hours over that tambour frame. My dear, how can you bear all this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How!&mdash;Oh! dear mamma!&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;there is no great difficulty in
+      all this to me&mdash;the difficulty, the impossibility would be, to live
+      happily with a man I despise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish,&rdquo; cried Mad. de Coulanges, &ldquo;I wish to all the saints, that that
+      hero of yours, that fellow-prisoner of ours at the Abbaye, with his
+      humanity, and his generosity, and his courage, and all his fine qualities,
+      had kept out of your way, Emilie: I wish he were fairly at the bottom of
+      the Black Sea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you forget that he was the means of obtaining your liberty, mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I could forget it&mdash;I am always doomed to be obliged to those
+      whom I cannot love. But, after all, you might as well think of the khan of
+      Tartary as of this man, whom we shall never hear of more. Marry M. de
+      Brisac, like a reasonable creature, and do not let me see you bending, as
+      you do, for ever, over a tambour frame, wasting your fine eyes and
+      spoiling your charming shape.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, mamma,&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;would it not be much worse to marry one man,
+      and like another?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mercy&rsquo;s sake! say something new to me, Emilie; at all events, I have
+      heard this a hundred times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The simple truth, alas!&rdquo; said Emilie, &ldquo;must always be the same: I wish I
+      could put it in any new light that would please you, dear mamma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It never can please me, child,&rdquo; cried Mad. de Coulanges, angrily; &ldquo;nor
+      can you please me, either, as you are going on. Fine heroism, truly!&mdash;you
+      will sacrifice your duty and your mother to your obstinacy in an idle
+      fancy. But, remember, the last days of the month are at hand&mdash;longer
+      I will not listen to such provoking nonsense&mdash;it has half killed me
+      already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither lap-dog, squirrel, bird-organ, nor Emilie&rsquo;s whole stock of French
+      songs, could longer support the vivacity of Mad. de Coulanges; for some
+      days she had passed the time in watching and listening to the London
+      cries, as she sat at her window: the figures and sounds in this busy part
+      of the town were quite new to her; and, whilst the novelty lasted, she
+      was, like a child, good-humoured and full of exclamations. The want of
+      some one to listen to these exclamations was an insupportable evil; she
+      complained terribly of her daughter&rsquo;s silence, whilst she was attending to
+      her different employments. This want of conversation, and of all the
+      luxuries she enjoyed at the house of Mrs. Somers, her anger against that
+      lady, her loss of all hope of hearing from France, and her fear that
+      Emilie would at last absolutely refuse to obey and marry M. de Brisac, all
+      together operated so powerfully upon Mad. de Coulanges, that she really
+      felt sick, and kept her bed. Emilie now confined herself to her mother&rsquo;s
+      room, and attended her with the most affectionate care, and with a degree
+      of anxiety, which those only can comprehend who have believed themselves
+      to be the cause of the illness of a friend&mdash;of a parent. Mad. de
+      Coulanges would sometimes reply, when her daughter asked her if such or
+      such a thing had done her good, &ldquo;No, my child, nothing will do me good but
+      your obedience, which you refuse me&mdash;perhaps on my deathbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Though Emilie did not apprehend that her mother was in any immediate
+      danger, yet these continual fits of low spirits and nervous attacks
+      excited much alarm. Emilie&rsquo;s reflections on her own helpless situation
+      contributed to magnify her fears: she considered that she was a stranger,
+      a foreigner, without friends, without credit, almost without money, and
+      deprived, by the necessary attendance on her sick mother, of all power to
+      earn any by her own exertions. The bodily fatigue that she endured, even
+      without any mental anxiety, would have been sufficient to wear out the
+      spirits of a more robust person than Emilie. She had no human being to
+      assist her but a young girl, a servant-maid belonging to the house, who,
+      fortunately, was active and good-natured; but her mistress was excessively
+      cross, vulgar, and avaricious; avarice, indeed, often seemed to conquer in
+      her the common feelings of humanity. Once, whilst Mad. de Coulanges was
+      extremely ill, she forced her way into her bedchamber, to insist upon
+      changing the counterpane upon the bed, which she said was too good to be
+      stained with coffee: another day, when she was angry with Mlle. de
+      Coulanges, for having cracked a basin by heating some soup for her mother,
+      she declared, in the least ceremonious terms possible, that she hated to
+      have any of the French <i>refugees</i> and emigrants in the house, for
+      that she was not accustomed to let her lodgings to folk that nobody ever
+      came near to visit, and that lived only upon soups and salads, and such
+      low stuff; &ldquo;and who, when they were ill, never so much as called in a
+      physician, or even a nurse, but must take up the time of people that were
+      not bound to wait upon them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mlle. de Coulanges bore all this patiently rather than run the hazard of
+      removing to other lodgings whilst her mother was so ill. The countess had
+      a prejudice against English physicians, as she affirmed that it was
+      impossible that they could understand French constitutions, especially
+      hers, which was different from that of any other human being, and which,
+      as she said, only one medical man in France rightly understood. At last,
+      however, she yielded to the persuasions of her daughter, and permitted
+      Emilie to send for a physician. When she inquired what he thought of her
+      mother, he said, that she was in a nervous fever, and that unless her mind
+      was kept free from anxiety he could not answer for her recovery. Mad. de
+      Coulanges looked full at her daughter, who was standing at the foot of her
+      bed; a mist came before Emilie&rsquo;s eyes, a cold dew covered her forehead,
+      and she was forced to hold by the bed-post to support herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this instant the door opened, and Lady Littleton appeared. Emilie
+      sprang forward, and threw herself into her arms&mdash;Mad. de Coulanges
+      started up in her bed, exclaiming &ldquo;Ah Ciel!&rdquo; and then all were silent&mdash;except
+      the mistress of the house, who went on making apologies about the dirt of
+      her stairs, and its being Friday night. But as she at length perceived
+      that not a soul in the room knew a word she was saying, she retreated. The
+      physician took leave&mdash;and, when they were thus left at liberty, Lady
+      Littleton seated herself in the broken arm-chair beside the bed, and told
+      Mad. de Coulanges that Mrs. Somers had been very unhappy, in consequence
+      of their quarrel; and that she had been indefatigable in her inquiries and
+      endeavours to find out the place of their retreat; that she had at last
+      given up the search in despair. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; continued Lady Littleton, &ldquo;it has
+      been my good fortune to discover you by means of this flower of Emilie&rsquo;s
+      painting&rdquo;&mdash;(she produced a little hand-screen, which Emilie had
+      lately made, and which she had sent to be disposed of at the Repository
+      for Ingenious Works). &ldquo;I knew it to be yours, my dear, because it is an
+      exact resemblance of one upon your watch of Flora, which was drawn from
+      the flower I brought you from Kew Gardens. Now you must not be angry with
+      me for finding you out, nor for begging of you to be reconciled to poor
+      Mrs. Somers, who has suffered much in your absence&mdash;much from the
+      idea of what you would endure&mdash;and more from her self-reproaches. She
+      has, indeed, an unfortunate susceptibility of temper, which makes her
+      sometimes forget both politeness and justice: but, as you well know, her
+      heart is excellent. Come, you must promise me to meet her at my house, as
+      soon as you are able to go out, my dear Mad. de Coulanges.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know when that will be,&rdquo; replied Mad. de Coulanges, in a sick
+      voice: &ldquo;I was never so ill in my life&mdash;and so the physician says. But
+      I am revived by seeing Lady Littleton&mdash;she is, and ever has been, all
+      goodness and politeness to us. I am ashamed that she should see us in such
+      a miserable place. Emilie, give me my other night-riband, and the wretched
+      little looking-glass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges sat up and arranged her head-dress. At this moment, Lady
+      Littleton took Emilie aside, and put into her hand a letter from France!&mdash;&ldquo;I
+      would not speak of it suddenly to your mother, my dear,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;but
+      you will find the proper time. I hope it contains good news&mdash;at
+      present I will have patience. You shall see me again soon; and you must,
+      at all events, let me take you from this miserable place. Mrs. Somers has
+      been punished enough.&mdash;Adieu!&mdash;I long to know the news from
+      France.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The news from France was such as made the looking-glass drop from the hand
+      of Mad. de Coulanges. It was a letter from the son of her old steward, to
+      tell her that his father was dead&mdash;that he was now in possession of
+      all the family fortune, which he was impatient to restore to the wife and
+      daughter of his former master and friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven be praised!&rdquo; exclaimed Mad. de Coulanges, in an ecstasy of joy&mdash;&ldquo;Heaven
+      be praised! we shall once more see dear Paris, and the Hotel de
+      Coulanges!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heaven be praised!&rdquo; cried Emilie, &ldquo;I shall never more see M. de Brisac.
+      My mother, I am sure, will no longer wish me to marry him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, in truth,&rdquo; said the countess, &ldquo;it would now be a most unequal match,
+      and one to which he is by no means entitled. How fortunate it is that I
+      had not given him my promise!&mdash;After all, your aversion to him,
+      child, was quite providential. Now you may form the most splendid alliance
+      that your heart can desire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My heart,&rdquo; said Emilie, sighing, &ldquo;desires no splendid alliance. But had
+      you not better lie down, dear mamma?&mdash;You will certainly catch cold&mdash;and
+      remember, your mind must be kept quiet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was impossible to keep her mind quiet; she ran on from one subject to
+      another with extravagant volubility; and Emilie was afraid that she would,
+      the next day, be quite exhausted; but, on the contrary, after talking
+      above half the night, she fell into a sound sleep; and when she wakened,
+      after having slept fourteen hours, she declared that she would no longer
+      be kept a prisoner in bed. The renovating effects of joy and the influence
+      of the imagination were never more strongly displayed. &ldquo;Le malheur passé
+      n&rsquo;est bon qu&rsquo;à être oublié,&rdquo; was la comtesse&rsquo;s favourite maxim&mdash;and
+      to do her justice, she was as ready to forget past quarrels as past
+      misfortunes. She readily complied with Emilie&rsquo;s request that she would, as
+      soon as she was able to go out, accompany her to Lady Littleton&rsquo;s, that
+      they might meet and be reconciled to Mrs. Somers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has the most tormenting temper imaginable,&rdquo; said the countess; &ldquo;and I
+      would not live with her for the universe&mdash;Mais d&rsquo;ailleurs c&rsquo;est la
+      meilleure femme du monde.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If, instead of being the best woman in the world, Mrs. Somers had been the
+      worst, and if, instead of being a benefactress, she had been an enemy, it
+      would have been all the same thing to the countess; for, in this moment,
+      she was, as usual, like a child, a <i>friend</i> to every creature of
+      every kind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her volubility was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Littleton, who came
+      to carry Mad. de Coulanges and Emilie to her house, where, as her ladyship
+      said, Mrs. Somers was impatiently waiting for them. Lady Littleton had
+      prevented her from coming to this poor lodging-house, because she knew
+      that the being seen there would mortify the pride of some of the house of
+      Coulanges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Somers was indeed waiting for them with inexpressible impatience. The
+      moment she heard their voices in the hall at Lady Littleton&rsquo;s, she ran
+      down stairs to meet them; and as she embraced Emilie she could not refrain
+      from bursting into tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tears of joy, these must be,&rdquo; cried Mad. de Coulanges: &ldquo;we are all happy
+      now&mdash;perfectly happy&mdash;Are not we?&mdash;Embrace me, Mrs. Somers&mdash;Emilie
+      shall not have all your heart&mdash;I have some gratitude as well as my
+      daughter; and I should have none if I did not love you&mdash;especially at
+      this moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges was, by this time, at the head of the stairs; a servant
+      opened the drawing-room door; but something was amiss with the strings of
+      her sandals&mdash;she would stay to adjust them&mdash;and said to Emilie,
+      &ldquo;Allez, allez&mdash;entrez.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emilie obeyed. An instant afterwards Mad. de Coulanges thought she heard a
+      sudden cry, either of joy or grief, from Emilie&mdash;she hurried into the
+      drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bon Dieu! c&rsquo;est notre homme de l&rsquo;Abbaye!&rdquo; cried she, starting back at the
+      sight of a gentleman who had been kneeling at Emilie&rsquo;s feet, and who arose
+      as she entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My son!&rdquo; said Mrs. Somers, eagerly presenting him to Mad. de Coulanges&mdash;&ldquo;my
+      son! whom it is in your power to make the happiest or the most miserable
+      of men!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In my power!&mdash;in Emilie&rsquo;s, you mean, I suppose,&rdquo; said the countess,
+      smiling. &ldquo;She is so good a girl that I cannot make her miserable; and as
+      for you, Mrs. Somers, the honour of your alliance&mdash;and our
+      obligations&mdash;But then I shall be miserable myself if she does not go
+      back with me to the Hotel de Coulanges&mdash;Ah! Ciel!&mdash;And then poor
+      M. de Brisac, he will be miserable, unless, to comfort him, I marry him
+      myself.&rdquo;&mdash;Half laughing, half crying, Mad. de Coulanges scarcely knew
+      what she said or did.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was some time before she was sufficiently composed to understand
+      clearly what was said to her by any person in the room, though she asked,
+      half a dozen times, at least, from every one present, an explanation of
+      all that had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Littleton was the only person who could give an explanation. She had
+      contrived this meeting, and even Mrs. Somers had not foreseen the event&mdash;she
+      never suspected that her own son was the very person to whom Emilie was
+      attached, and that it was for Emilie&rsquo;s sake her son had hitherto refused
+      to comply with her earnest desire that he should marry and settle in the
+      world. He had no hopes that she would consent to his marrying a French
+      girl without fortune, because she formerly quarrelled with him for
+      refusing to marry a rich lady of quality, who happened to be, at that
+      time, high in her favour. Upon the summons home that he received from her,
+      he was alarmed by the apprehension that she had some new alliance in view
+      for him, and he resolved, before he saw his mother, to trust his secret to
+      Lady Littleton, who had always been a mediatrix and peace-maker. He
+      declined telling the name of the object of his affections; but, from his
+      description, and from many concomitant dates and circumstances, Lady
+      Littleton was led to suspect that it might be Emilie de Coulanges. She
+      consequently contrived an interview, which she knew must be decisive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mad. de Coulanges, whose imagination was now at Paris, felt rather
+      disappointed at the idea of her daughter&rsquo;s marrying an Englishman, who was
+      neither a count, a marquis, nor even a baron; but Lady Littleton at length
+      obtained that consent which she knew would be necessary to render Emilie
+      happy, even in following the dictates of her heart, or her reason.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some conversation passed between Lady Littleton and Mrs. Somers about a
+      dormant title in the Somers&rsquo; family, which might be revived. This made a
+      wonderful impression on the countess. She yielded, as she did every thing
+      else, with a good grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      History does not say, whether she did or did not console M. de Brisac: we
+      are only informed that, immediately after her daughter&rsquo;s marriage, she
+      returned to Paris, and gave a splendid ball at her Hotel de Coulanges. We
+      are further assured that Mrs. Somers never quarrelled with Emilie from the
+      day of her marriage till the day of her death&mdash;but that is
+      incredible.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      1803.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      THE MODERN GRISELDA.
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      A TALE.
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;And since in man right reason bears the sway,
+  Let that frail thing, weak woman, have her way.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <h3>
+      POPE.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Blest as th&rsquo;immortal gods is he,
+  The youth who fondly sits by thee,
+  Who sees and hears thee all the while,
+  Softly speak and sweetly smile.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not this ode set to music, my dear Griselda?&rdquo; said the happy
+      bridegroom to his bride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, surely, my dear: did you never hear it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never; and I am glad of it, for I shall have the pleasure of hearing it
+      for the first time from you, my love: will you be so kind as to play it
+      for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most willingly,&rdquo; said Griselda, with an enchanting smile; &ldquo;but I am
+      afraid that I shall not be able to do it justice,&rdquo; added she, as she sat
+      down to her harp, and threw her white arm across the chords.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charming! Thank you, my love,&rdquo; said the bridegroom, who had listened with
+      enthusiastic devotion.&mdash;&ldquo;Will you let me hear it once more?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The complaisant bride repeated the strain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, my dear love,&rdquo; repeated her husband. This time he omitted the
+      word &ldquo;<i>charming</i>&rdquo;&mdash;she missed it, and, pouting prettily, said,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never can play any thing so well the second time as the first.&rdquo;&mdash;She
+      paused: but as no compliment ensued, she continued, in a more pettish
+      tone, &ldquo;And for that reason, I do hate to be made to play any thing twice
+      over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that, my dearest love, or I would not have asked you to do
+      it; but I am the more obliged to you for your ready compliance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obliged!&mdash;Oh, my dear, I am sure you could not be the least obliged
+      to me, for I know I played it horridly: I hate flattery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of that, my dear, and therefore I never flatter: you know
+      I did not say that you played as well the last time as the first, did I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I did not say you did,&rdquo; cried Griselda, and her colour rose as she
+      spoke: she tuned her harp with some precipitation&mdash;&ldquo;This harp is
+      terribly out of tune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it? I did not perceive it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did not you, indeed? I am sorry for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why so, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, my dear, I own that I would rather have had the blame thrown on
+      my harp than upon myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Blame? my love!&mdash;But I threw no blame either on you or your harp. I
+      cannot recollect saying even a syllable that implied blame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, my dear, you did not say a syllable; but in some cases the silence of
+      those we love is the worst, the most mortifying species of blame.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tears came into Griselda&rsquo;s beautiful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My sweet love,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;how can you let such a trifle affect you so
+      much?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing is a trifle to me which concerns those I love,&rdquo; said Griselda.&mdash;Her
+      husband kissed away the pearly drops which rolled over her
+      vermeil-tinctured cheeks. &ldquo;My love,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this is having too much
+      sensibility.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I own I have too much sensibility,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;too much&mdash;a
+      great deal too much, for my own happiness.&mdash;Nothing ever can be a
+      trifle to me which marks the decline of the affection of those who are
+      most dear to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tenderest protestations of undiminished and unalterable affection
+      could not for some time reassure this timid sensibility: but at length the
+      lady suffered herself to be comforted, and with a languid smile said, that
+      she hoped she was mistaken&mdash;that her fears were perhaps unreasonable&mdash;that
+      she prayed to Heaven they might in future prove groundless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few weeks afterwards her husband unexpectedly met with Mr. Granby, a
+      friend, of whose company he was particularly fond: he invited him home to
+      dinner, and was talking over past times in all the gaiety and innocence of
+      his heart, when suddenly his wife rose and left the room.&mdash;As her
+      absence appeared to him long, and as he had begged his friend to postpone
+      <i>an excellent story</i> till her return, he went to her apartment and
+      called &ldquo;Griselda!&mdash;Griselda, my love!&rdquo;&mdash;No Griselda answered.&mdash;He
+      searched for her in vain in every room in the house: at last, in an alcove
+      in the garden, he found the fair dissolved in tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens! my dear Griselda, what can be the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A melancholy, not to say sullen, silence was maintained by his dear
+      Griselda, till this question had been reiterated in all the possible tones
+      of fond solicitude and alarm: at last, in broken sentences, she replied
+      that she saw he did not love her&mdash;never had loved her; that she had
+      now but too much reason to be convinced that all her fears were real, not
+      imaginary; that her presentiments, alas! never deceived her; that she was
+      the most miserable woman on earth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her husband&rsquo;s unfeigned astonishment she seemed to consider as an
+      aggravation of her woes, and it was an additional insult to plead
+      ignorance of his offence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If he did not understand her feelings, it was impossible, it was needless,
+      to explain them. He must have lost all sympathy with her, all tenderness
+      for her, if he did not know what had passed in her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stood in stupid innocence. Provoked to speak more plainly, the
+      lady exclaimed, &ldquo;Unfeeling, cruel, barbarous man!&mdash;Have not you this
+      whole day been trying your utmost skill to torment me to death? and, proud
+      of your success, now you come to enjoy your triumph.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Success!&mdash;triumph!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, triumph!&mdash;I see it in your eyes&mdash;it is in vain to deny it.
+      All this I owe to your friend Mr. Granby. Why he should be my enemy!&mdash;I
+      who never injured him, or any body living, in thought, word, or deed&mdash;why
+      he should be my enemy!&rdquo;&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enemy!&mdash;My love, this is the strangest fancy! Why should you imagine
+      that he is your enemy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He <i>is</i> my enemy&mdash;nobody shall ever convince me of the
+      contrary; he has wounded me in the tenderest point, and in the basest
+      manner: has not he done his utmost, in the most artful, insidious way,&mdash;even
+      before my face,&mdash;to persuade you that you were a thousand times
+      happier when you were a bachelor than you are now&mdash;than you ever have
+      been since you married me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear Griselda, you totally misunderstand him: such a thought never
+      entered his mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, I know him better than you do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I have known him ever since I was a child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the very reason you cannot judge of him as well as I can: how
+      could you judge of character when you were a child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But now that I am a man&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now that you are a man you are prejudiced in his favour by all the
+      associations of your childhood&mdash;all those associations,&rdquo; continued
+      the fair one, renewing her tears, &ldquo;all those early associations, which are
+      stronger than every other species of affection&mdash;all those
+      associations which I never <i>can</i> have in your mind, which ever must
+      act against me, and which no merit&mdash;if I had any merit&mdash;no
+      tenderness, no fidelity, no fondness of mine, can ever hope to balance in
+      the heart of the man I love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dearest Griselda! be reasonable, and do not torment yourself and me
+      for no earthly purpose about these associations: really it is ridiculous.
+      Come, dry these useless tears, let me beseech you, my love. You do not
+      know how much pain they give me, unreasonable as they are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At these words they flowed more bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, my love, I conjure you to compose yourself, and return to the
+      company: you do not know how long you have been away, and I too. We shall
+      be missed; we shall make ourselves ridiculous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it be ridiculous to love, I shall be ridiculous all my life. I am
+      sorry you think me so; I knew it would come to this; I must bear it if I
+      can,&rdquo; said Griselda; &ldquo;only be so kind to excuse me from returning to the
+      company to-night&mdash;indeed I am not fit, I am not able: say that I am
+      not well; indeed, my love, you may say so with truth.&mdash;Tell your
+      friend that I have a terrible head-ache, and that I am gone to bed&mdash;but
+      not to rest,&rdquo; added she, in a lower and more plaintive tone, as she drew
+      her hand from her husband&rsquo;s, and in spite of all his entreaties retired to
+      her room with an air of heart-broken resignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whoever has had the felicity to be beloved by such a wife as our Griselda,
+      must have felt how much the charms of beauty are heightened by the anguish
+      of sensibility. Even in the moment when a husband is most tormented by her
+      caprices, he feels that there is something so amiable, so flattering to
+      his vanity in their source, that he cannot complain of the killing
+      pleasure. On the contrary, he grows fonder of his dear tormentor; he folds
+      closer to him this pleasing bosom ill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda perceived the effects, and felt the whole extent of the power of
+      sensibility; she had too much prudence, however, at once to wear out the
+      excitability of a husband&rsquo;s heart; she knew that the influence of tears,
+      potent as it is, might in time cease to be irresistible, unless aided by
+      the magic of smiles; she knew the power of contrast even in charms; she
+      believed the poets, who certainly understand these things, and who assure
+      us that the very existence of love depends on this blest vicissitude.
+      Convinced, or seemingly convinced, of the folly of that fond melancholy in
+      which she persisted for a week, she next appeared all radiant with joy;
+      and she had reason to be delighted by the effect which this produced. Her
+      husband, who had not yet been long enough her husband to cease to be her
+      lover, had suffered much from the obstinacy of her sorrow; his spirits had
+      sunk, he had become silent, he had been even seen to stand motionless with
+      his arms folded; he was in this attitude when she approached and smiled
+      upon him in all her glory. He breathed, he lived, he moved, he spoke.&mdash;Not
+      the influence of the sun on the statue of Memnon was ever more
+      exhilarating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Let any candid female say, or, if she will not say, imagine, what she
+      should have felt at that moment in Griselda&rsquo;s place.&mdash;How
+      intoxicating to human vanity, to be possessed of such powers of
+      enchantment!&mdash;How difficult to refrain from their exercise!&mdash;How
+      impossible to believe in their finite duration!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;<i>Some</i> hope a lover by their faults to win,
+  As spots on ermine beautify the skin.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When Griselda thought that her husband had long enough enjoyed his new
+      existence, and that there was danger of his forgetting the taste of
+      sorrow, she changed her tone.&mdash;One day, when he had not returned home
+      exactly at the appointed minute, she received him with a frown,&mdash;such
+      as would have made even Mars himself recoil, if Mars could have beheld
+      such a frown upon the brow of his Venus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dinner has been kept waiting for you this hour, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry for it; but why did you wait, my dear? I am really very
+      sorry I am so late, but (looking at his watch) it is only half past six by
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is seven by me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They presented their watches to each other; he, in an apologetical, she,
+      in a reproachful attitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I rather think you are too fast, my dear,&rdquo; said the gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sure you are too slow, my dear,&rdquo; said the lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My watch never loses a minute in the four-and-twenty hours,&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor mine a second,&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have reason to believe I am right, my love,&rdquo; said the husband, mildly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reason!&rdquo; exclaimed the wife, astonished; &ldquo;what reason can you possibly
+      have to believe you are right, when I tell you I am morally certain you
+      are wrong, my love?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My only reason is, that I set my watch by the sun to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The sun must be wrong, then,&rdquo; cried the lady, hastily.&mdash;&ldquo;You need
+      not laugh; for I know what I am saying&mdash;the variation, the
+      declination, must be allowed for in computing it with the clock. Now you
+      know perfectly well what I mean, though you will not explain it for me,
+      because you are conscious I am in the right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my dear, if <i>you</i> are conscious of it, that is sufficient. We
+      will not dispute any more about such a trifle.&mdash;Are they bringing up
+      dinner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they know that you are come in; but I am sure I cannot tell whether
+      they do or not.&mdash;Pray, my dear Mrs. Nettleby,&rdquo; cried the lady,
+      turning to a female friend, and still holding her watch in her hand, &ldquo;what
+      o&rsquo;clock is it by you? There is nobody in the world hates disputing about
+      trifles as much as I do; but I own I do love to convince people that I am
+      in the right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Nettleby&rsquo;s watch had stopped. How provoking!&mdash;Vexed at having no
+      immediate means of convincing people that she was in the right, our
+      heroine consoled herself by proceeding to criminate her husband, not in
+      this particular instance, where he pleaded guilty, but upon the general
+      charge of being always late for dinner, which he strenuously denied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There is something in the species of reproach, which advances thus
+      triumphantly from particulars to generals, peculiarly offensive to every
+      reasonable and susceptible mind: and there is something in the general
+      charge of being always late for dinner, which the punctuality of man&rsquo;s
+      nature cannot easily endure, especially if he be hungry. We should humbly
+      advise our female friends to forbear exposing a husband&rsquo;s patience to this
+      trial, or at least to temper it with much fondness, else mischief will
+      infallibly ensue. For the first time Griselda saw her husband angry; but
+      she recovered him by saying, in a softened tone, &ldquo;My love, you must be
+      sensible that I can have but one reason for being so impatient for your
+      return home.&mdash;If I liked your company less, I should not complain so
+      much of your want of punctuality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Finding that this speech had the desired effect, it was afterwards
+      repeated with variations whenever her husband stayed from home to enjoy
+      any species of amusement, or to gratify any of his friends. When he
+      betrayed symptoms of impatience under this constraint, the expostulations
+      became more urgent, if not more forcible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, my dear, I take it rather unkindly of you that you pay so little
+      attention to my feelings&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see I am of no consequence to you <i>now</i>; I find every body&rsquo;s
+      society is preferred to mine: it was not always so.&mdash;Well! it is what
+      I might have expected&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heigho!&mdash;Heigho!&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda&rsquo;s sighs were still persuasive, and her husband, notwithstanding
+      that he felt the restraints which daily multiplied upon his time and upon
+      his personal liberty becoming irksome, had not the barbarity to give pain
+      to the woman by whom he was so tenderly beloved. He did not consider that
+      in this case, as well as in many others, apparent mercy is real cruelty.
+      The more this monopolizing humour of his wife&rsquo;s was indulged, the more
+      insatiable it became. Every person, every thing but herself, was to be
+      excluded from his heart; and when this sole patent for pleasure was
+      granted to her, she became rather careless in its exercise, as those are
+      apt to be who fear no competitors. In proportion as her endeavours to
+      please abated, her expectations of being adored increased: the slightest
+      word of blame, the most remote hint that any thing in her conduct,
+      manners, or even dress, could be altered for the better, was the signal
+      for battle or for tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One night she wept for an hour, and debated for two, about an alteration
+      in her head-dress, which her husband unluckily happened to say made it
+      more becoming. <i>More becoming</i>! implied that it was before
+      unbecoming. She recollected the time when every thing she wore was
+      becoming in his eyes&mdash;but that time, alas! was completely past; and
+      she only wished that she could forget that it had ever been.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To have been happy is additional misery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This misery may appear comic to some people, but it certainly was not so
+      to our heroine&rsquo;s unfortunate husband. It was in vain that, in mitigation
+      of his offence, he pleaded total want of knowledge in the arcana of the
+      toilette, absolute inferiority of taste, and a willing submission to the
+      decrees of fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This submission was called indifference&mdash;this calmness construed into
+      contempt. He stood convicted of having said that the lady&rsquo;s dress was
+      unbecoming&mdash;she was certain that he thought more than he said, and
+      that every thing about her was grown disagreeable to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in vain he represented that his affection had not been created, and
+      could not be annihilated, by such trifles; that it rested on the solid
+      basis of esteem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Esteem!&rdquo; cried his wife&mdash;&ldquo;that is the unkindest stroke of all! When
+      a man begins to talk of esteem, there is an end of love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To illustrate this position, the fair one, as well as the disorder of her
+      mind would permit, entered into a refined disquisition, full of all the
+      metaphysics of gallantry, which proved that love&mdash;genuine love&mdash;is
+      an æthereal essence, a union of souls, regulated by none of those formal
+      principles, and founded upon none of those vulgar moral qualities on which
+      friendship, and the other connexions of society, depend. Far, far above
+      the jurisdiction of reason, true love creates perfect sympathy in taste,
+      and an absolute identity of opinion upon all subjects, physical,
+      metaphysical, moral, political, and economic. After having thus
+      established her theory, her practice was wonderfully consistent, and she
+      reasonably expected from her husband the most exact conformity to her
+      principles&mdash;of course, his five senses and his understanding were to
+      be identified with hers. If he saw, heard, felt, or understood differently
+      from her, he did not, could not, love her. Once she was offended by his
+      liking white better than black; at another time she was angry with him for
+      loving the taste of mushrooms. One winter she quarrelled with him for not
+      admiring the touch of satin, and one summer she was jealous of him for
+      listening to the song of a blackbird. Then because he could not prefer to
+      all other odours the smell of jessamine, she was ready &ldquo;to die of a rose
+      in aromatic pain.&rdquo; The domain of taste, in the more enlarged sense of the
+      word, became a glorious field of battle, and afforded subjects of
+      inextinguishable war. Our heroine was accomplished, and knew how to make
+      all her accomplishments and her knowledge of use. As she was mistress not
+      only of the pencil, but of all &ldquo;the cant of criticism,&rdquo; had infinite
+      advantages in the wordy war. From the <i>beau ideal</i> to the choice of a
+      snuffer-dish, all came within her province, and was to be submitted,
+      without appeal, to her instinctive sense of moral order.&mdash;Happy
+      fruits of knowledge!&mdash;Happy those who can thus enlarge their
+      intellectual dominion, and can vary eternally the dear delight of giving
+      pain. The range of opinion was still more ample than the province of
+      taste, affording scope for all the joys of assertion and declamation&mdash;for
+      the opposing of learned and unlearned authorities&mdash;for the quoting
+      the opinions of friends&mdash;counting voices instead of arguments&mdash;wondering
+      at the absurdity of those who can be of a different way of thinking&mdash;appealing
+      to the judgment of the whole world&mdash;or resting perfectly satisfied
+      with her own. Sometimes the most important, sometimes the most trivial,
+      and seemingly uninteresting subjects, gave exercise to Griselda&rsquo;s powers;
+      and in all cases being entirely of her opinion was the only satisfactory
+      proof of love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our heroine knew how, with able generalship, to take advantage of time and
+      situation.&mdash;Just before the birth of their child, which, by-the-bye,
+      was born dead, a dispute arose between the husband and wife concerning
+      public and private education, which, from its vehemence, alarmed the
+      gentleman into a perfect conviction that he was in the wrong. Scarcely had
+      Griselda gained this point, when a question arose at the tea-table
+      respecting the Chinese method of making tea. It was doubted by some of the
+      company whether it was made in a tea-pot or a tea-cup. Griselda gave her
+      opinion loudly for the tea-pot&mdash;her lord and master inclined to the
+      tea-cup; and as neither of them had been in China, they could debate
+      without fear of coming to a conclusion. The subject seemed at first
+      insignificant; but the lady&rsquo;s method of managing it supplied all
+      deficiencies, and roused all the passions of human nature on the one side
+      or the other. Victory hung doubtful; but our heroine won the day by taking
+      time into the account.&mdash;Her adversary was in a hurry to go to meet
+      some person on business, and quitted the field of battle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
+  Strong sovereign Will, and some desire to chide.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are,&rdquo; says Dr. Johnson, &ldquo;a thousand familiar disputes which reason
+      can never decide; questions that elude investigation, and make logic
+      ridiculous&mdash;cases where something must be done, and where little can
+      be said.&mdash;Wretched would be the pair above all names of wretchedness
+      who should be doomed to adjust by reason every morning all the detail of a
+      domestic day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Our heroine made a double advantage of this passage: for she regularly
+      reasoned where logic was ridiculous, and could not be prevailed upon to
+      listen to reason when it might have been useful.&mdash;She substituted her
+      <i>will</i> most frequently for arguments, and often opposed it to her
+      husband&rsquo;s, in order to give him the merit of sacrificing his wishes. When
+      he wanted to read, she suddenly wished to walk; when he wished to walk,
+      she was immersed in her studies. When he was busy, she was talkative; when
+      he was eager to hear her converse, she was inclined to be silent. The
+      company that he liked, she disliked; the public amusements that she most
+      frequented were those of which he least approved. This species of
+      wilfulness was the strongest proof of her solicitude about his good
+      opinion.&mdash;She could not bear, she said, that he should consider her
+      as a child, who was not able to govern herself. She could not believe that
+      a man had confidence in her unless he proved it by leaving her at liberty
+      to decide and act for herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sometimes she receded, sometimes she advanced in her claims; but without
+      marking the daily ebbs and flows of her humour, it is sufficient to
+      observe, that it continually encroached upon her husband&rsquo;s indulgence. She
+      soon insisted upon being <i>consulted</i>, that is, obeyed, in affairs
+      which did not immediately come under the cognizance of her sex&mdash;politics
+      inclusive. This apparently exorbitant love of power was veiled under the
+      most affectionate humility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my love! I know you despise my abilities; you think these things
+      above the comprehension of poor women. I know I am but your plaything
+      after all: you cannot consider me for a moment as your equal or your
+      friend&mdash;I see that!&mdash;You talk of these things to your friend Mr.
+      Granby&mdash;I am not worthy to hear them.&mdash;Well, I am sure I have no
+      ambition, except to possess the confidence of the man I love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady forgot that she had, upon a former occasion, considered a
+      profession of esteem from her husband as an insult, and that, according to
+      her definition of true love, esteem was incompatible with its existence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tacitus remarks, that it is common with princes to will contradictories;
+      in this characteristic they have the honour to resemble some of the fair
+      sex, as well as all spoiled children. Having every feasible wish
+      gratified, they are obliged to wish for what is impossible, for want of
+      something to desire or to do: they are compelled to cry for the moon, or
+      for new worlds to conquer.&mdash;Our heroine having now attained the
+      summit of human glory and happiness, and feeling almost as much ennui as
+      was expressed by the conqueror of the world, yawned one morning, as she
+      sat tête-à-tête with her husband, and said&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning.&mdash;Why do you
+      keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here it is for you, my dear: I have finished it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it&mdash;I
+      hate stale news.&mdash;Is there any thing in the paper? for I cannot be at
+      the trouble of hunting it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my dear, there are the marriages of two of our friends&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who? Who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your friend the Widow Nettleby, to her cousin John Nettleby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Nettleby! Lord! but why did you tell me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because you asked me, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! but it is a hundred times pleasanter to read the paragraph one&rsquo;s
+      self: one loses all the pleasure of the surprise by being told.&mdash;Well!
+      whose was the other marriage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! my dear, I will not tell you&mdash;I will leave you the pleasure of
+      the surprise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you see I cannot guess it.&mdash;How provoking you are, my dear! Do
+      pray tell it me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our friend Mr. Granby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Granby!&mdash;Dear! Why did not you make me guess? I should have
+      guessed him directly: but why do you call him our friend? I am sure he is
+      no friend of mine, nor ever was; I took an aversion to him, as you may
+      remember, the very first day I saw him: I am sure he is no friend of
+      mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry for it, my dear; but I hope you will go and see Mrs. Granby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not I, indeed, my dear.&mdash;Who was she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Cooke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cooke!&mdash;but there are so many Cookes.&mdash;Can&rsquo;t you distinguish
+      her any way?&mdash;Has she no Christian name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emma, I think&mdash;yes, Emma.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emma Cooke!&mdash;No; it cannot be my friend Emma Cooke&mdash;for I am
+      sure she was cut out for an old maid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May be so&mdash;I am sure I&rsquo;ll never go to see her&mdash;Pray, my dear,
+      how came you to see so much of her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have seen very little of her, my dear: I only saw her two or three
+      times before she was married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, my dear, how could you decide that she is cut out for a good wife?&mdash;I
+      am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only two or three times,
+      and before she was married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand that compliment perfectly, and thank you for it, my dear.&mdash;I
+      must own I can bear any thing better than irony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Irony! my dear; I was perfectly in earnest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; in earnest&mdash;so I perceive&mdash;I may naturally be dull of
+      apprehension, but my feelings are quick enough: I comprehend you too well.
+      Yes&mdash;it is impossible to judge of a woman before marriage, or to
+      guess what sort of a wife she will make. I presume you speak from
+      experience; you have been disappointed yourself, and repent your choice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear, what did I say that was like this? Upon my word I meant no such
+      thing; I really was not thinking of you in the least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;you never think of me now: I can easily believe that you were
+      not thinking of me in the least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I said that only to prove to you that I could not be thinking ill of
+      you, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I would rather that you thought ill of me than that you did not think
+      of me at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; said her husband, laughing, &ldquo;I will even think ill of
+      you, if that will please you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you laugh at me?&rdquo; cried she, bursting into tears. &ldquo;When it comes to
+      this, I am wretched indeed! Never man laughed at the woman he loved! As
+      long as you had the slightest remains of love for me, you could not make
+      me an object of derision: ridicule and love are incompatible, absolutely
+      incompatible. Well, I have done my best, my very best, to make you happy,
+      but in vain. I see I am not <i>cut out</i> to be a good wife. Happy, happy
+      Mrs. Granby!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Happy I hope sincerely that she will be with my friend; but my happiness
+      must depend on you, my love; so, for my sake, if not for your own, be
+      composed, and do not torment yourself with such fancies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do wonder,&rdquo; cried our heroine, starting from her seat, &ldquo;whether this
+      Mrs. Granby is really that Miss Emma Cooke. I&rsquo;ll go and see her directly;
+      see her I must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am heartily glad of it, my dear; for I am sure a visit to his wife will
+      give my friend Granby real pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give him pleasure, or you either;
+      but to satisfy my own&mdash;<i>curiosity</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The rudeness of this speech would have been intolerable to her husband if
+      it had not been for a certain hesitation in the emphasis with which she
+      pronounced the word curiosity, which left him in doubt as to her real
+      motive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jealousy is sometimes thought to be a proof of love; and, in this point of
+      view, must not all its caprices, absurdities, and extravagances, be
+      graceful, amiable, and gratifying?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few days after Griselda had satisfied her curiosity, she thus, in the
+      presence of her husband, began to vent her spleen:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For Heaven&rsquo;s sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby,&rdquo; cried she, addressing herself to
+      the new-married widow, who came to return her wedding visit&mdash;&ldquo;for
+      pity&rsquo;s sake, dear Mrs. Nettleby, can you or any body else tell me what
+      possessed Mr. Granby to marry Emma Cooke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure I cannot tell, for I have not seen her yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be less able to tell after you have seen her, and still less
+      after you have heard her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, then, she is neither a wit nor a beauty! I&rsquo;m quite surprised at
+      that; for I thought, to be sure, Mr. Granby, who is such a judge and such
+      a critic, and so nice about female manners, would not have been content
+      without something very extraordinary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing can be more ordinary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Astonishing! but I am quite tired of being astonished at marriages! One
+      sees such strange matches every day, I am resolved never to be surprised
+      at any thing: who <i>can</i>, that lives in the world? But really now I am
+      surprised at Mr. Granby. What! is she nothing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;absolutely nothing; a cipher; a nonentity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now really? you do not tell me so,&rdquo; said Mrs. Nettleby. &ldquo;Well, I am so
+      disappointed; for I always resolved to take example by Mr. Granby&rsquo;s wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would rather that she should take warning by me,&rdquo; said Griselda,
+      laughing. &ldquo;But to be candid, I must tell you that to some people&rsquo;s taste
+      she is a pattern wife&mdash;a perfect Grizzle. She and I should have
+      changed names&mdash;or characters. Which, my dear?&rdquo; cried she, appealing
+      to her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not names, my dear,&rdquo; answered he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The conversation might here have ended happily, but unluckily our heroine
+      could not be easily satisfied before Mrs. Nettleby, to whom she was proud
+      of showing her conjugal ascendancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said she to her husband, &ldquo;a-propos to pattern wives: you have
+      read Chaucer&rsquo;s Tales. Do you seriously like or dislike the real, original,
+      old Griselda?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so long since I have seen her that I cannot tell,&rdquo; replied he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, my dear, you must read the story over again, and tell me without
+      evasion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And if he could read it before Mrs. Granby and me, what a compliment that
+      would be to one bride,&rdquo; added the malicious Mrs. Nettleby, &ldquo;and what a
+      lesson for another!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it must be so! it must be so!&rdquo; cried Griselda. &ldquo;I will ask her here
+      on purpose to a reading party; and you, my dear Mrs. Nettleby, will come
+      for your lesson. You, my love, who read so well&mdash;and who, I am sure,
+      will be delighted to pay a compliment to your favourite, Mrs. Granby&mdash;you
+      will read, and I will&mdash;weep. On what day shall it be? Let me see:
+      Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, I&rsquo;m
+      engaged: but Sunday is only a party at home; I can put that off:&mdash;then
+      Sunday let it be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sunday, I am unluckily engaged, my dear,&rdquo; said her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Engaged? Oh, nonsense! You have no engagements of any consequence: and
+      when I put off <i>my</i> party on purpose to have the pleasure of hearing
+      you read, oblige me, my love, for once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My love, to oblige you, I will do any thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda cast a triumphant glance at Mrs. Nettleby, which said as plainly
+      as a look could say, &ldquo;You see how I rule him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Feels every vanity in fondness lost,
+  And asks no power but that of pleasing most.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      On Sunday evening a large company assembled at our heroine&rsquo;s summons. They
+      were all seated in due form: the reader with his book open, and waiting
+      for the arrival of the bride, for whom a conspicuous place was destined,
+      where the spectators, and especially Mrs. Nettleby and our Griselda, could
+      enjoy a full view of her countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord bless me! it is getting late: I am afraid&mdash;I am really afraid
+      Mrs. Granby will not come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The ladies had time to discuss who and what she was: as she had lived in
+      the country, few of them had seen, or could tell any thing about her; but
+      our heroine circulated her opinion in whispers, and every one was prepared
+      to laugh at <i>the pattern wife, the original Griselda revived</i>, as
+      Mrs. Nettleby sarcastically called her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Granby was announced. The buzz was hushed and the titter suppressed;
+      affected gravity appeared in every countenance, and all eyes turned with
+      malicious curiosity upon the bride as she entered.&mdash;The timidity of
+      Emma&rsquo;s first appearance was so free both from awkwardness and affectation,
+      that it interested at least every gentleman present in her favour.
+      Surrounded by strangers, but quite unsuspicious that they were prepared to
+      consider her as an object of ridicule or satire, she won her way to the
+      lady of the house, to whom she addressed herself as to a friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not she quite a different person from what you had expected?&rdquo;
+       whispered one of the ladies to her neighbour, as Emma passed. Her manner
+      seemed to solicit indulgence rather than to provoke envy. She was very
+      sorry to find that the company had been waiting for her; she had been
+      detained by the sudden illness of Mr. Granby&rsquo;s mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst Emma was making this apology, some of the audience observed that
+      she had a remarkably sweet voice; others discovered that there was
+      something extremely feminine in her person. A gentleman, who saw that she
+      was distressed at the idea of being seated in the conspicuous place to
+      which she was destined by the lady of the house, got up, and offered his
+      seat, which she most thankfully accepted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my dear Mrs. Granby, I cannot possibly allow you to sit there,&rdquo; cried
+      the lady of the house. &ldquo;You must have the honours of the day,&rdquo; added she,
+      seizing Emma&rsquo;s hand to conduct her to the <i>place of honour</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray excuse me,&rdquo; said Mrs. Granby, &ldquo;honours are so little suited to me: I
+      am perfectly well here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But with that window <i>at your back</i>, my dear madam!&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Nettleby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not feel the slightest breath of air. But perhaps I crowd these
+      ladies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the least, not in the least,&rdquo; said the ladies, who were on each
+      side of her: they were won by the irresistible gentleness of Emma&rsquo;s
+      manner. Our heroine was vexed to be obliged to give up her point; and
+      relinquishing Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s hand, returned to her own seat, and said in a
+      harsh tone to her husband,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well! my dear, if we are to have any reading to-night, you had better
+      begin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The reading began; and Emma was so completely absorbed, that she did not
+      perceive that most of the audience were intent upon her. Those who act any
+      part may be ridiculous in the playing it, but those are safe from the
+      utmost malignity of criticism who are perfectly unconscious that they have
+      any part to perform. Emma had been abashed at her first appearance in an
+      assembly of strangers, and concerned by the idea that she had kept them
+      waiting; but as soon as this embarrassment passed over, her manners
+      resumed their natural ease&mdash;a degree of ease which surprised her
+      judges, and which arose from the persuasion that she was not of sufficient
+      consequence to attract attention. Our heroine was provoked by the sight of
+      this insolent tranquillity, and was determined that it should not long
+      continue. The reader came to the promise which Gualtherus exacts from his
+      bride:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Swear that with ready will, and honest heart,
+  Like or dislike, without regret or art,
+  In presence or alone, by night or day,
+  All that I will, you fail not to obey;
+  All I intend to forward, that you seek,
+  Nor ever once object to what I speak.
+  Nor yet in part alone my wish fulfil;
+  Nor though you do it, do it with ill-will;
+  Nor with a forced compliance half refuse;
+  And acting duty, all the merit lose.
+  To strict obedience add a willing grace,
+  And let your soul be painted in your face;
+  No reasons given, and no pretences sought,
+  To swerve in deed or word, in look or thought.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ladies!&rdquo; cried the modern Griselda, &ldquo;what do you think of this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Shrill exclamations of various vehemence expressed with one accord the
+      sentiments, or rather feelings, of almost all the married ladies who were
+      present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Abominable! Intolerable! Insufferable! Horrible! I would rather have seen
+      the man perish at my feet; I would rather have died: I would have remained
+      unmarried all my life rather than have submitted to such terms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A few young unmarried ladies who had not spoken, or who had not been heard
+      to speak in the din of tongues, were appealed to by the gentlemen next
+      them. They could not be prevailed upon to pronounce any distinct opinion:
+      they qualified, and hesitated, and softened, and equivocated, and &ldquo;were
+      not positively able to judge, for really they had never thought upon the
+      subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon the whole, however, it was evident that they did not betray that
+      natural horror which pervaded the more experienced matrons. All agreed
+      that the terms were &ldquo;hard terms,&rdquo; and ill expressed: some added, that only
+      love could persuade a woman to submit to them: and some still more
+      sentimental maidens, in a lower voice, were understood to say, that as
+      nothing is impossible to Cupid, they might be induced to such submission;
+      but that it must be by a degree of love which they solemnly declared they
+      had never felt or could imagine as yet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; cried the modern Griselda, &ldquo;I would sooner have lived an
+      old maid to the days of Methusalem than have been so mean as to have
+      married any man on earth upon such terms. But I know there are people who
+      can never think &lsquo;marriage dear-bought.&rsquo; My dear Mrs. Granby, we have not
+      yet heard your opinion, and we should have had yours first, as bride.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forgot that I was bride,&rdquo; said Emma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgot! Is it possible?&rdquo; cried Mrs. Nettleby: &ldquo;now this is an excess of
+      modesty of which I have no notion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But for which Mr. Granby,&rdquo; continued our heroine, turning to Mr. Granby,
+      who at this moment entered the room, &ldquo;ought to make his best bow. Here is
+      your lady, sir, who has just assured us that she forgot she was a bride:
+      bow to this exquisite humility.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exquisite vanity!&rdquo; cried Mr. Granby; &ldquo;she knows
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;How much the wife is dearer than the bride.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will be a singularly happy woman if she knows <i>that</i> this time
+      twelvemonth,&rdquo; replied our heroine, darting a reproachful look at her
+      silent husband. &ldquo;In the mean time, do let us hear Mrs. Granby speak for
+      herself; I must have her opinion of Griselda&rsquo;s promise to obey her lord,
+      right or wrong, in all things, no reasons given, to submit in deed, and
+      word, and look, and thought. If Mrs. Granby tells us that is her theory,
+      we must all reform our practice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Every eye was fixed upon Emma, and every ear was impatient for her answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should never have imagined,&rdquo; said she, smiling, &ldquo;that any person&rsquo;s
+      practice could be influenced by my theory, especially as I have no
+      theory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more humility, my dear; if you have no theory, you have an opinion of
+      your own, I hope, and we must have a distinct answer to this simple
+      question: Would you have made the promise that was required from
+      Griselda?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Emma; &ldquo;distinctly no; for I could never have loved or
+      esteemed the man who required such a promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Disconcerted by this answer, which was the very reverse of what she
+      expected; amazed at the modest self-possession with which the timid Emma
+      spoke, and vexed by the symptoms of approbation which Emma&rsquo;s words and
+      voice excited, our heroine called upon her husband, in a more than usually
+      authoritative tone, and bid him&mdash;read on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed. Emma became again absorbed in the story, and her countenance
+      showed how much she felt all its beauties, and all its pathos. Emma did
+      all she could to repress her feelings; and our heroine all she could to
+      make her and them ridiculous. But in this attempt she was unsuccessful;
+      for many of the spectators, who at her instigation began by watching
+      Emma&rsquo;s countenance to find subject for ridicule, ended by sympathizing
+      with her unaffected sensibility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the tale was ended, the modern Griselda, who was determined to oppose
+      as strongly as possible the charms of spirit to those of sensibility,
+      burst furiously forth into an invective against the meanness of her
+      namesake, and the tyranny of the odious Gualtherus.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Could</i> you have forgiven him, Mrs. Granby? could you have forgiven
+      the monster?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He repented,&rdquo; said Emma; &ldquo;and does not a penitent cease to be a monster?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I never, never would have forgiven him, penitent or not penitent; I
+      would not have forgiven him such sins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would not have put it into his power to commit them,&rdquo; said Emma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I confess the story never touched me in the least,&rdquo; cried our heroine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps for the same reason that Petrarch&rsquo;s friend said that he read it
+      unmoved,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Granby: &ldquo;because he could not believe that such a
+      woman as Griselda ever existed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, not for that reason: I believe many such poor, meek,
+      mean-spirited creatures exist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emma was at length wakened to the perception of her friend&rsquo;s envy and
+      jealousy; but&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;She mild forgave the failing of her sex.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot admire the original Griselda, or any of her imitators,&rdquo;
+       continued our heroine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no great danger of her finding imitators in these days,&rdquo; said
+      Mr. Granby. &ldquo;Had Chaucer lived in our enlightened times, he would
+      doubtless have drawn a very different character.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The modern Griselda looked &ldquo;fierce as ten furies.&rdquo; Emma softened her
+      husband&rsquo;s observation by adding, &ldquo;that allowance should certainly be made
+      for poor Chaucer, if we consider the times in which he wrote. The
+      situation and understandings of women have been so much improved since his
+      days. Women were then slaves, now they are free. My dear,&rdquo; whispered she
+      to her husband, &ldquo;your mother is not well; shall we go home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emma left the room; and even Mrs. Nettleby, after she was gone, said,
+      &ldquo;Really she is not ugly when she blushes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No woman is ugly when she blushes,&rdquo; replied our heroine; &ldquo;but, unluckily,
+      a woman cannot <i>always</i> blush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Finding that her attempt to make Emma ridiculous had failed, and that it
+      had really placed Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s understanding, manners, and temper in a
+      most advantageous and amiable light, Griselda was mortified beyond
+      measure. She could scarcely bear to hear Emma&rsquo;s name mentioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;She that can please, is certain to persuade,
+  To-day is lov&rsquo;d, to-morrow is obey&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      A few days after the reading party, Griselda was invited to spend an
+      evening at Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not go,&rdquo; said she, throwing down the card with an air of disdain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall go,&rdquo; said her husband, calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go, my dear!&rdquo; cried she, amazed. &ldquo;You will go without <i>me</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not without you, if you will be so kind as to go with me, my love,&rdquo; said
+      he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite out of my power,&rdquo; said she: &ldquo;I am engaged to my friend, Mrs.
+      Nettleby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, my dear,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;do as you please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I shall. And I am surprised, my dear, that you do not go to see
+      Mr. John Nettleby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no desire to see him, my dear. He is, as I have often heard you
+      say, an obstinate fool. He is a man I dislike particularly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very possibly; but you ought to go to see him notwithstanding.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why so, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because he is married to a woman I like. If you had any regard for me,
+      your own feelings would have saved you the trouble of asking that
+      question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear, should not your regard for me also suggest to you the
+      propriety of keeping up an acquaintance with Mrs. Granby, who is married
+      to a man I like, and who is not herself an obstinate fool?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not enter into any discussion upon the subject,&rdquo; replied our
+      heroine; for this was one of the cases where she made it a rule never to
+      reason. &ldquo;I can only say that I have my own opinion, and that I beg to be
+      excused from keeping up any acquaintance whatever with Mrs. Granby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I beg to be excused from keeping up any acquaintance whatever with
+      Mr. Nettleby,&rdquo; replied her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens!&rdquo; cried she, raising herself upon the sofa, on which she had
+      been reclining, and fixing her eyes upon her husband, with unfeigned
+      astonishment: &ldquo;I do not know you this morning, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Possibly not, my dear,&rdquo; replied he; &ldquo;for hitherto you have seen only your
+      lover; now you see your husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Never did metamorphosis excite more astonishment. The lady was utterly
+      unconscious that she had had any part in producing it&mdash;that she had
+      herself dissolved the spell. She raged, she raved, she reasoned, in vain.
+      Her point she could not compass. Her cruel husband persisted in his
+      determination not to go to see Mr. John Nettleby. Absolutely astounded,
+      she was silent. There was a truce for some hours. She renewed the attack
+      in the evening, and ceased not hostilities for three succeeding days and
+      nights, in reasonable hopes of wearying the enemy, still without success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The morning rose, the great, the important day, which was to decide the
+      fate of the visit. The contending parties met as usual at breakfast; they
+      seemed mutually afraid of each other, and stood at bay. There was a forced
+      calm in the gentleman&rsquo;s demeanour&mdash;treacherous smiles played upon the
+      lady&rsquo;s countenance. He seemed cautious to prolong the suspension of
+      hostilities&mdash;she fond to anticipate the victory. The name of Mrs.
+      Granby, or of Mr. John Nettleby, was not uttered by either party, nor did
+      either inquire where the other was to spend the evening. At dinner they
+      met again, and preserved on this delicate subject a truly diplomatic
+      silence; whilst on the topics foreign to their thoughts, they talked with
+      admirable fluency: actuated by as sincere desire as ever was felt by
+      negotiating politicians to establish peace on the broadest basis, they
+      were, <i>with the most perfect consideration</i>, each other&rsquo;s devoted,
+      and most obedient humble servants. Candour, however, obliges us to
+      confess, that though the deference on the part of the gentleman was the
+      most unqualified and praiseworthy, the lady was superior in her inimitable
+      air of frank cordiality. The <i>volto sciolto</i> was in her favour, the
+      <i>pensieri stretti</i> in his. Any one but an ambassador would have been
+      deceived by the husband; any one but a woman would have been duped by the
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So stood affairs when, after dinner, the high and mighty powers separated.
+      The lady retired to her toilette. The gentleman remained with his bottle.
+      He drank a glass of wine extraordinary. She stayed half an hour more than
+      usual at her mirror. Arrayed for battle, our heroine repaired to the
+      drawing-room, which she expected to find unoccupied;&mdash;the enemy had
+      taken the field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dressed, my dear?&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ready, my love!&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I ring the bell for your carriage, my dear?&rdquo; said the husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please. You go with me, my dear?&rdquo; said the wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know where you are going, my love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Mrs. Nettleby&rsquo;s of course,&mdash;and you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lightning flashed from Griselda&rsquo;s eyes, ere he had half pronounced the
+      words. The lightning flashed without effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s!&rdquo; cried she, in a thundering tone. &ldquo;To Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s!&rdquo;
+       echoed he. She fell back on the sofa, and a shower of tears ensued. Her
+      husband walked up and down the room, rang again for the carriage, ordered
+      it in the tone of a master. Then hummed a tune. The fair one sobbed: he
+      continued to sing, but was out in the time. The lady&rsquo;s sobs grew alarming,
+      and threatened hysterics. He threw open the window, and approached the
+      sofa on which she lay. She, half recovering, unclasped one bracelet; in
+      haste to get the other off, he broke it. The footman came in to announce
+      that the carriage was at the door. She relapsed, and seemed in danger of
+      suffocation from her pearl necklace, which she made a faint effort to
+      loosen from her neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send your lady&rsquo;s woman instantly,&rdquo; cried Griselda&rsquo;s husband to the
+      footman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our heroine made another attempt to untie her necklace, and looked up
+      towards her husband with supplicating eyes. His hands trembled; he
+      entangled the strings. It would have been all over with him if the maid
+      had not at this instant come to his assistance. To her he resigned his
+      perilous post; retreated precipitately; and before the enemy&rsquo;s forces
+      could rally, gained his carriage, and carried his point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To Mr. Granby&rsquo;s!&rdquo; cried he, triumphantly. Arrived there, he hurried to
+      Mr. Granby&rsquo;s room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another such victory,&rdquo; cried he, throwing himself into an arm-chair,
+      &ldquo;another such victory, and I am undone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He related all that had just passed between him and his wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another such combat,&rdquo; said his friend, &ldquo;and you are at peace for life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      We hope that our readers will not, from this speech, be induced to
+      consider Mr. Granby as an instigator of quarrels between man and wife; or,
+      according to the plebeian but expressive apophthegm, one who would come
+      between the bark and the tree. On the contrary, he was most desirous to
+      secure his friend&rsquo;s domestic happiness; and, if possible, to prevent the
+      bad effects which were likely to ensue from excessive indulgence, and
+      inordinate love of dominion. He had a high respect for our heroine&rsquo;s
+      powers, and thought that they wanted only to be well managed. The same
+      force which, ill-directed, bursts the engine, and scatters destruction,
+      obedient to the master-hand, answers a thousand useful purposes, and works
+      with easy, smooth, and graceful regularity. Griselda&rsquo;s husband, or, as he
+      now deserves to have his name mentioned, Mr. Bolingbroke, roused by his
+      friend&rsquo;s representations, and perhaps by a sense of approaching danger,
+      resolved to assume the guidance of his wife, or at least&mdash;of himself.
+      In opposition to his sovereign lady&rsquo;s will, he actually spent this evening
+      as he pleased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;E sol quei giorni io mi vidi contenta,
+  Ch&rsquo;averla compiaciuto mi trovai.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a great deal more courageous than I am, my dear,&rdquo; said Emma to
+      her husband, after Mr. Bolingbroke had left them. &ldquo;I should be very much
+      afraid of interfering between your friend and his wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is friendship,&rdquo; said Mr. Granby, &ldquo;if it will run no risks? I must
+      run the hazard of being called a mischief-maker.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not the danger of which I was thinking,&rdquo; said Emma; &ldquo;though I
+      confess that I should be weak enough to fear that a little: but what I
+      meant to express was an apprehension of our doing harm where we most wish
+      to do good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you, my dear Emma, think Griselda incorrigible?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed,&rdquo; cried Emma, with anxious emphasis; &ldquo;far from it. But without
+      thinking a person incorrigible, may we not dislike the idea of inflicting
+      correction? I should be very sorry to be the means of giving Griselda any
+      pain; she was my friend when we were children; I have a real regard for
+      her, and if she does not now seem disposed to love me, that must be my
+      fault, not hers: or if it is not my fault, call it my misfortune. At all
+      events, I have no right to force myself upon her acquaintance. She prefers
+      Mrs. Nettleby; I have not the false humility to say, that I think Mrs.
+      Nettleby will prove as safe or as good a friend as I hope I should he. But
+      of this Mrs. Bolingbroke has a right to judge. And I am sure, far from
+      resenting her resolution to avoid my acquaintance, my only feeling about
+      it, at this instant, is the dread that it should continue to be a matter
+      of dispute between her and her husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If Mr. Bolingbroke insisted, or if I advised him to insist upon his
+      wife&rsquo;s coming here, when she does not like it,&rdquo; said Mr. Granby, &ldquo;I should
+      act absurdly, and he would act unjustly; but all that he requires is
+      equality of rights, and the liberty of going where <i>he</i> pleases. She
+      refuses to come to see you: he refuses to go to see Mr. John Nettleby.
+      Which has the best of the battle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emma thought it would be best if there were no battle; and observed, that
+      refusals and reprisals would only irritate the parties, whose interest and
+      happiness it was to be pacified and to agree. She said, that if Mr.
+      Bolingbroke, instead of opposing his will to that of his wife, which, in
+      fact, was only conquering force by force, would speak reasonably to her,
+      probably she might be induced to yield, or to command her temper. Mrs.
+      Granby suggested, that a compromise, founded on an offer of mutual
+      sacrifice and mutual compliance, might be obtained. That Mr. Bolingbroke
+      might promise to give up some of his time to the man he disliked, upon
+      condition that Griselda should submit to the society of a woman to whom
+      she had an aversion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If she consented to this,&rdquo; said Emma, &ldquo;I would do my best to make her
+      like me; or at least to make her time pass agreeably at our house: her
+      liking me is a matter of no manner of consequence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emma was capable of putting herself entirely out of the question, when the
+      interest of others was at stake; her whole desire was to conciliate, and
+      all her thoughts were intent upon making her friends happy. She seemed to
+      live in them more than in herself, and from sympathy arose the greatest
+      pleasure and pain of her existence. Her sympathy was not of that useless
+      kind which is called forth only by the elegant fictitious sorrows of a
+      heroine of romance; hers was ready for all the occasions of real life; nor
+      was it to be easily checked by the imperfections of those to whom she
+      could be of service. At this moment, when she perceived that her husband
+      was disgusted by Griselda&rsquo;s caprice, she said all she could think of in
+      her favour: she recollected every anecdote of Griselda&rsquo;s childhood, which
+      showed an amiable disposition; and argued, that it was not probable her
+      temper should have entirely changed in a few years. Emma&rsquo;s quick-sighted
+      good-nature could discern the least portion of merit, where others could
+      find only faults; as certain experienced eyes can discover grains of gold
+      in the sands, which the ignorant have searched, and abandoned as useless.
+      In consequence of Emma&rsquo;s advice&mdash;for who would reject good advice,
+      offered with so much gentleness?&mdash;Mr. Granby wrote a note to Mr.
+      Bolingbroke, to recommend the compromise which she had suggested. Upon his
+      return home, Mr. Bolingbroke was informed that his lady had gone to bed
+      much indisposed; he spent a restless night, notwithstanding all his
+      newly-acquired magnanimity. He was much relieved in the morning by his
+      friend&rsquo;s note, and blessed Emma for proposing the compromise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Each widow to her secret friend alone
+  Whisper&rsquo;d;&mdash;thus treated, he had had his own.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bolingbroke waited with impatience for Griselda&rsquo;s appearance the next
+      morning; but he waited in vain: the lady breakfasted in her own apartment,
+      and for two hours afterwards remained in close consultation with Mrs.
+      Nettleby, whom she had summoned the preceding night by the following note:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;I have been prevented from spending this evening with you, my
+    dearest Mrs. Nettleby, by the strangest conduct imaginable: am
+    sure you will not believe it when I tell it to you. Come to me, I
+    conjure you, as early to-morrow as you possibly can, that I may
+    explain to you all that has passed, and consult as to the future.
+    My dearest friend, I never was so much in want of an adviser. Ever
+    yours,
+
+    &ldquo;GRISELDA.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      At this consultation, Mrs. Nettleby expressed the utmost astonishment at
+      Mr. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s strange conduct, and assured Griselda, that if she did
+      not exert herself, all was lost, and she must give up the hope of ever
+      having her own way again as long as she lived.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I have had some experience in these things; a wife
+      must be either a tyrant or a slave: make your choice; now is your time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I never knew him say or do any thing unkind before,&rdquo; said Griselda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then the first offence should be properly resented. If he finds you
+      forgiving, he will become encroaching; &lsquo;tis the nature of man, depend upon
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He always yielded to me till now,&rdquo; said Griselda; &ldquo;but even when I was
+      ready to go into fits, he left me, and what could I do then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You astonish me beyond expression! you who have every advantage&mdash;youth,
+      wit, accomplishments, beauty! My dear, if <i>you</i> cannot keep a
+      husband&rsquo;s heart, who can ever hope to succeed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! as to his heart, I have no doubts of his heart, to do him justice,&rdquo;
+       said Griselda; &ldquo;I know he loves me&mdash;passionately loves me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet you cannot manage him! And you expect me to pity you? Bless me,
+      if I had half your advantages, what I would make of them! But if you like
+      to be a tame wife, my dear&mdash;if you are resolved upon it, tell me so
+      at once, and I will hold my tongue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know well what I am resolved upon,&rdquo; said Griselda, leaning her
+      head in a melancholy posture upon her hand: &ldquo;I am vexed, out of spirits,
+      and out of sorts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out of sorts! I am not surprised at that: but out of spirits! My dear
+      creature, you who have every thing to put you in spirits. I am never so
+      much <i>myself</i> as when I have a quarrel to fight out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot say that is the case with me, unless where I am sure of the
+      victory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it is your own fault if you are not always sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought so till last night; but I assure you last night he showed such
+      a spirit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Break that spirit, my dear, break it, or else it will break your heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The alternative is terrible,&rdquo; said Griselda, &ldquo;and more terrible perhaps
+      than you could imagine, or I either till now: for would you believe it, I
+      never loved him in my life half so well as I did last night in the midst
+      of my anger, and when he was doing every thing to provoke me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very natural, my dear; because you saw him behave with spirit, and you
+      love spirit; so does every woman; so does every body; show him that you
+      have spirit too, and he will be as angry as you were, and love you as well
+      in the midst of his anger, whilst you are doing every thing to provoke
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda appeared determined to take this good advice one moment, and the
+      next hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Mrs. Nettleby, did you always find this succeed yourself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, always.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This lady had the reputation indeed of having broken the heart of her
+      first husband; how she would manage her second was yet to be seen, as her
+      honeymoon was but just over. The pure love of mischief was not her only
+      motive in the advice which she gave to our heroine; she had, like most
+      people, mixed motives for her conduct. She disliked Mr. Bolingbroke,
+      because he disliked her; yet she wished that an acquaintance should be
+      kept up between him and her husband, because Mr. Bolingbroke was a man of
+      fortune and fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda promised that she would behave with that proper spirit, which was
+      to make her at once amiable and victorious; and the friends parted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;With patient, meek, submissive mind,
+  To her hard fate resign&rsquo;d.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <h3>
+      POTTER&rsquo;S ÆSCHYLUS
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      Left to her own good genius, Griselda reflected that novelty has the most
+      powerful effect upon the heart of man. In all the variations of her
+      humour, her husband had never yet seen her in the sullen mood; and in this
+      she now sat prepared to receive him. He came with an earnest desire to
+      speak to her in the kindest and most reasonable manner. He began by saying
+      how much it had cost him to give her one moment&rsquo;s uneasiness:&mdash;his
+      voice, his look, were those of truth and love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unmoved, Griselda, without raising her leaden eyes, answered in a cold
+      voice, &ldquo;I am very sorry that you should have felt <i>any</i> concern upon
+      my account.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Any</i>! my love; you do not know how <i>much</i> I have felt this
+      night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked upon him with civil disbelief; and replied, &ldquo;that she was sure
+      she ought to be much obliged to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This frigid politeness repressed his affection: he was silent for some
+      moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Griselda,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;this is not the way in which we should live
+      together; we who have every thing that can make us contented: do not let
+      us throw away our happiness for trifles not worth thinking of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If we are not happy, it is not my fault,&rdquo; said Griselda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will not inquire whose fault it is, my dear; let the blame rest upon
+      me: let the past be forgotten; let us look towards the future. In future,
+      let us avoid childish altercations, and live like reasonable creatures. I
+      have the highest opinion of your sex in general, and of you in particular;
+      I wish to live with my wife as my equal, my friend; I do not desire that
+      my will should govern: where our inclinations differ, let reason decide
+      between us; or where it is a matter not worth reasoning about, let us
+      alternately yield to one another.&rdquo; He paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not desire or expect that you should ever henceforward yield to my
+      wishes either in trifles or in matters of consequence,&rdquo; replied Griselda,
+      with provoking meekness; &ldquo;you have taught me my duty: the duty of a wife
+      is to submit; and submit I hope I shall in future, without reply or
+      reasoning, to your sovereign will and pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nay, my dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;do not treat me as a brutal tyrant, when I wish
+      to do every thing in my power to make you happy. Use your own excellent
+      understanding, and I shall always, I hope, be inclined to yield to your
+      reasons.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall never trouble you with my reasons; I shall never use my own
+      understanding in the least: I know that men cannot bear understanding in
+      women; I shall always, as it is my duty, submit to your better judgment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my love, I do not require duty from you; this sort of blind
+      submission would be mortifying, instead of gratifying to me, from a wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know what a wife can do to satisfy a husband, if submitting in
+      every thing be not sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say it would be too much for me, my dearest love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can do nothing but submit,&rdquo; repeated the perverse Griselda, with a most
+      provoking immoveable aspect of humility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why <i>will</i> you not understand me, my dear?&rdquo; cried her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not my fault if I cannot understand you, my dear: I do not pretend
+      to have your understanding,&rdquo; said the fair politician, affecting weakness
+      to gain her point; like those artful candidates for papal dominion, who
+      used to affect decrepitude and imbecility, till they secured at once
+      absolute power and infallibility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know my abilities are quite inferior to yours, my dear,&rdquo; said Griselda;
+      &ldquo;but I thought it was sufficient for a woman to know how to obey; I can do
+      no more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fretted beyond his patience, her husband walked up and down the room
+      greatly agitated, whilst she sat content and secure in tranquil obstinacy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are enough to provoke the patience of Job, my dear,&rdquo; cried her
+      husband; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll break my heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry for it, my dear; but if you will only tell me what I can do
+      more to please you, I will do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, my love,&rdquo; cried he, taking hold of her white hand, which hung in a
+      lifeless attitude over the arm of the couch, &ldquo;be happy, I conjure you! all
+      I ask of you is to be happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is out of my power,&rdquo; said she, mildly, suffering her husband to keep
+      her hand, as if it was an act of duty to submit to his caresses. He
+      resigned her hand; her countenance never varied; if she had been slave to
+      the most despotic sultan of the East, she could not have shown more utter
+      submission than she displayed to this most indulgent European &ldquo;husband
+      lover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Unable to command his temper, or to conceal how much he was hurt, he rose
+      and said, &ldquo;I will leave you for the present, my dear; some time when you
+      are better disposed to converse with me, I will return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whenever you please, sir; all times are alike to me: whenever you are at
+      leisure, I can have no choice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;And acting duty all the merit lose.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Some hours afterwards, hoping to find his sultana in a better humour, Mr.
+      Bolingbroke returned; but no sooner did he approach the sofa on which she
+      was still seated, than she again seemed to turn into stone, like the
+      Princess Rhezzia, in the Persian Tales; who was blooming and charming,
+      except when her husband entered the room. The unfortunate Princess Rhezzia
+      loved her husband tenderly, but was doomed to this fate by a vile
+      enchanter. If she was more to be pitied for being subject to involuntary
+      metamorphosis, our heroine is surely more to be admired, for the constancy
+      with which she endured a self-inflicted penance; a penance calculated to
+      render her odious in the eyes of her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said this most patient of men, &ldquo;I am sorry to renew any ideas
+      that will be disagreeable to you; I will mention the subject but once
+      more, and then let it be forgotten for ever&mdash;our foolish dispute
+      about Mr. Nettleby. Let us compromise the matter. I will bear Mr. John
+      Nettleby for your sake, if you will bear Mrs. Granby for mine. I will go
+      to see Mr. Nettleby to-morrow, if you will come the day afterwards with me
+      to Mr. Granby&rsquo;s. Where husband and wife do not agree in their wishes, it
+      is reasonable that each should yield a little of their will to the other.
+      I hope this compromise will satisfy you, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does not become a wife to enter into any compromise with her husband;
+      she has nothing to do but to obey, as soon as he signifies his pleasure. I
+      shall go to Mr. Granby&rsquo;s on Tuesday, as you command.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Command! my love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you&mdash;whatever you please to call it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But are you satisfied with this arrangement, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no manner of consequence whether I am or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To me, you know, it is of the greatest: you must be sensible that my
+      sincere wish is to make you happy: I give you some proof of it by
+      consenting to keep up an acquaintance with a man whose company I dislike.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much obliged to you, my dear; but as to your going to see Mr. John
+      Nettleby, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me; I only just
+      mentioned it as a thing of course; I beg you will not do it on my account:
+      I hope you will do whatever you think best and what pleases yourself, upon
+      this and every other occasion. I shall never more presume to offer my
+      advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nothing more could be obtained from the submissive wife; she went to Mr.
+      Granby&rsquo;s; she was all duty, for she knew the show of it was the most
+      provoking thing upon earth to a husband, at least to such a husband as
+      hers. She therefore persisted in this line of conduct, till she made her
+      victim at last exclaim&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;I love thee and hate thee, but if I can tell
+    The cause of my love and my hate, may I die.
+  I can feel it, alas! I can feel it too well,
+    That I love thee and hate thee, but cannot tell why.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      His fair one was much flattered by this confession; she triumphed in
+      having excited &ldquo;this contrariety of feelings;&rdquo; nor did she foresee the
+      possibility of her husband&rsquo;s recollecting that stanza which the
+      school-boy, more philosophical than the poet, applies to his tyrant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whilst our heroine was thus acting to perfection the part of a dutiful
+      wife, Mrs. Nettleby was seconding her to the best of her abilities, and
+      announcing her amongst all their acquaintance, in the interesting
+      character of&mdash;&ldquo;a woman that is very much to be pitied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Mrs. Bolingbroke!&mdash;Don&rsquo;t you think, ma&rsquo;am, she is very much
+      changed since her marriage?&mdash;Quite fallen away!&mdash;and all her
+      fine spirits, what are become of them?&mdash;It really grieves my heart to
+      see her.&mdash;Oh, she is a very unhappy woman!! really to be pitied, if
+      you knew but all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then a significant nod, or a melancholy mysterious look, set the
+      imagination of the company at work; or, if this did not succeed, a whisper
+      in plain terms pronounced Mr. Bolingbroke &ldquo;a sad sort of husband, a very
+      odd-tempered man, and, in short, a terrible tyrant; though nobody would
+      guess it, who only saw him in company: but men are such deceivers!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bolingbroke soon found that all his wishes were thwarted, and all his
+      hopes of happiness crossed, by the straws which this evil-minded dame
+      contrived to throw in his way. Her influence over his wife he saw
+      increased every hour: though they visited each other every day, these
+      ladies could never meet without having some important secrets to impart,
+      and conspiracies were to be performed in private, at which a husband could
+      not be permitted to assist. Then notes without number were to pass
+      continually, and these were to be thrown hastily into the fire at the
+      approach of the enemy. Mr. Bolingbroke determined to break this league,
+      which seemed to be more a league of hatred than of amity.&mdash;The London
+      winter was now over, and, taking advantage of the continuance of his
+      wife&rsquo;s perverse fit of duty and unqualified submission, he one day
+      requested her to accompany him into the country, to spend a few weeks with
+      his friend Mr. Granby, at his charming place in Devonshire. The part of a
+      wife was to obey, and Griselda was bound to support her character. She
+      resolved, however, to make her obedience cost her lord as dear as
+      possible, and she promised herself that this party of pleasure should
+      become a party of pain. She and her lord were to travel in the same
+      carriage with Mr. and Mrs. Granby. Griselda had only time, before she set
+      off, to write a hasty billet to Mrs. Nettleby, to inform her of these
+      intentions, and to bid her adieu till better times. Mrs. Nettleby
+      sincerely regretted this interruption of their hourly correspondence; for
+      she was deprived not only of the pleasure of hearing, but of making
+      matrimonial complaints. She had now been married two months; and her fool
+      began to grow restive; no animal on earth is more restive than a fool:
+      but, confident that Mrs. Nettleby will hold the bridle with a strong hand,
+      we leave her to pull against his hard mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Playzir ne l&rsquo;est qu&rsquo;autant qu&rsquo;on le partage.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      We pass over the infinite variety of petty torments, which our heroine
+      contrived to inflict upon her fellow-travellers during her journey down to
+      Devonshire. Inns, food, beds, carriage, horses, baggage, roads, prospect,
+      hill, dale, sun, wind, dust, rain, earth, air, fire, and water, all
+      afforded her matter of complaint. It was astonishing that Emma discovered
+      none of these inconveniences; but, as fast as they were complained of, she
+      amused herself in trying to obviate them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Kames has observed, that a power to recall at will pleasing objects
+      would be a more valuable gift to any mortal than ever was bestowed in a
+      fairy tale. With this power Emma was endowed in the highest perfection;
+      and as fast as our heroine recollected some evil that had happened, or was
+      likely to happen, Emma raised the opposite idea of some good, past,
+      present, or future; so that it was scarcely possible even for the spirit
+      of contradiction personified to resist the magic of her good-humour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No sooner did she arrive at her own house, than she contrived a variety of
+      ways of showing attention and kindness to her guest; and when all this was
+      received with sullen indifference, or merely as tributes due to
+      superiority, Emma was not discouraged in her benevolence, but, instead of
+      being offended, seemed to pity her friend for &ldquo;having had her temper so
+      unhappily spoiled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Griselda is so handsome,&rdquo; said Mrs. Granby one day, in her defence, &ldquo;she
+      has such talents&mdash;she has been so much admired, worshipped, and
+      indulged&mdash;that it would be wonderful if she were not a little
+      spoiled. I dare say that, if I had been in her place, my brain would never
+      have stood the intoxication. Who can measure their strength, or their
+      weakness, till they are tried? Another thing should be considered;
+      Griselda excites envy, and though she may not have more faults than her
+      neighbours, they are more noticed, because they are in the full light of
+      prosperity. What a number of motes swarm in a single ray of light, coming
+      through the shutter of a darkened room! There are not more motes in that
+      spot than in any other part of the room, but the sun-beams show them more
+      distinctly. The dust that lives in snug obscurity should consider this,
+      and have mercy upon its fellow dust.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In Emma&rsquo;s kindness there was none of the parade of goodness; she seemed to
+      follow her natural disposition; and, as Griselda once said of her, to be
+      good because she could not help it. She required neither praise nor thanks
+      for any thing that she did; and, provided her friends were happy, she was
+      satisfied, without ever wishing to be admired as the cause of that
+      happiness. Her powers of pleasing were chiefly remarkable for lasting
+      longer than others, and the secret of their permanence was not easily
+      guessed, because it was so simple. It depended merely on the equability of
+      her humour. It is said, that there is nothing marvellous in the colours of
+      those Egyptian monuments which have been the admiration of ages; the
+      secret of their duration is supposed to depend simply on the fineness of
+      the climate and invariability of the temperature.&mdash;But
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Griselda will admit no wandering muse.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke was by this time tired of continuing in one mood, even
+      though it was the sullen; and her genius was cramped by the constraint of
+      affected submission. She recovered her charming spirits soon after she
+      came into the country, and for a short time no mortal mixture of earth&rsquo;s
+      mould could be more agreeable. She called forth every charm; she was all
+      gaiety, wit, and smiles; she poured light and life upon conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the Marquis de Chastellux said of some fascinating fair one&mdash;&ldquo;She
+      had no expression without grace, and no grace without expression.&rdquo; It was
+      delightful to our heroine to hear it said, &ldquo;How charming Mrs. Bolingbroke
+      can be when she pleases; when she wishes to captivate, how irresistible!&mdash;Who
+      can equal Mrs. Bolingbroke when she is in one of her <i>good days</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The triumph of eclipsing Mrs. Granby would have been delightful, but that
+      Emma seemed to feel no mortification from being thrown into the shade; she
+      seemed to enjoy her friend&rsquo;s success so sincerely, that it was impossible
+      to consider her as a rival. She had so carefully avoided noticing any
+      little disagreement or coolness between Mr. and Mrs. Bolingbroke, that it
+      might have been doubted whether she attended to their mutual conduct; but
+      the obvious delight she took in seeing them again on good terms with each
+      other proved that she was not deficient in penetration. She appeared to
+      see only what others desired that she should see, upon these delicate
+      occasions, where voluntary blindness is not artifice, but prudence. Mr.
+      Bolingbroke was now enchanted with Griselda, and ready to exclaim every
+      instant, &ldquo;Be ever thus!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her husband thought he had found a mine of happiness; he began to breathe,
+      and to bless his kind stars. He had indeed lighted unexpectedly upon a
+      rich vein, but it was soon exhausted, and all his farther progress was
+      impeded by certain vapours, dangerous to approach. Fatal sweets! which
+      lure the ignorant to destruction, but from which the more experienced fly
+      with precipitation.&mdash;Our heroine was now fully prepared to kill her
+      husband with kindness; she was afraid, if he rode, that his horse would
+      throw him; if he walked, that he would tire himself; if he sat still, that
+      he must want exercise; if he went out, that he would catch cold; if he
+      stayed at home, that he was kept a prisoner; if he did not eat, that he
+      was sick; if he did eat, that he would be sick;&mdash;&amp;c. &amp;c.
+      &amp;c. &amp;c. There was no end to these fond fears: he felt that there
+      was something ridiculous in submitting to them; and yet to resist in the
+      least was deemed the height of unkindness and ingratitude. One night she
+      fell into a fit of melancholy, upon his laughing at her fears, that he
+      should kill himself, by standing for an instant at an open window, on a
+      fine night, to look at a beautiful rising moon. When he endeavoured to
+      recover her from her melancholy, it was suddenly converted into anger,
+      and, after tears, came a storm of reproaches. Her husband, in
+      consideration of the kindness of her original intention, passed over her
+      anger, and even for some days refrained from objecting to any regimen she
+      prescribed for his health and happiness. But his forbearance failed him at
+      length, and he presumed to eat some salad, which his wife &ldquo;knew would
+      disagree with him.&rdquo; She was provoked afterwards, because she could not
+      make him allow that it had made him ill. She termed this extreme
+      obstinacy; he pleaded that it was simple truth. Truth upon some occasions
+      is the most offensive thing that can be spoken: the lady was enraged, and,
+      after saying every thing provoking that matrimonial spleen could suggest,
+      when he in his turn grew warm, she cooled, and said, &ldquo;You must be
+      sensible, my dear, that all I say and do arises from affection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! my love,&rdquo; said he, recovering his good-humour, &ldquo;this never-failing
+      opiate soothes my vanity, and lulls my anger; then you may govern me as
+      you please. Torment me to death,&mdash;I cannot oppose you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you think me like the vampire-bat, who fans his
+      victim to sleep with its wings, whilst she sucks its life-blood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, exactly,&rdquo; said he, smiling: &ldquo;thank you for the apt allusion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very apt, indeed,&rdquo; said she; and a thick gloom overspread her
+      countenance. She persisted in taking his assent in sober earnest. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo;
+       said she, &ldquo;I find you think all my kindness is treacherous. I will show
+      you no more, and then you cannot accuse me of treachery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in vain that he protested he had been only in jest; she was
+      convinced that he was in earnest; she was suddenly afflicted with an
+      absolute incapacity of distinguishing jest from earnest. She recurred to
+      the idea of the vampire-bat, whenever it was convenient to her to suppose
+      that her husband thought strange things of her, which never entered his
+      brain. This bat proved to him a bird of ill omen, which preceded a train
+      of misfortunes, that no mortal foresight could reach, and no human
+      prudence avert. His goddess was not to be appeased by any propitiatory or
+      expiatory sacrifice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Short is the period of insulting power,
+  Offended Cupid finds his vengeful hour.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Finding it impossible to regain his fair one&rsquo;s favour, Mr. Bolingbroke
+      absented himself from her presence. He amused himself for some days with
+      his friend Mr. Granby, in attending to a plantation which he was laying
+      out in his grounds. Griselda was vexed to perceive that her husband could
+      find any amusement independent of her; and she never failed, upon his
+      return, to mark her displeasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning the gentlemen had been so much occupied with their plantation,
+      that they did not attend the breakfast-table precisely in due time: the
+      contrast in the looks of the two ladies when their husbands entered the
+      room was striking. Griselda was provoked with Mrs. Granby for being so
+      good-humoured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord bless me! Mrs. Granby, how you spoil these men,&rdquo; cried she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the time the gentlemen were at breakfast, Mrs. Bolingbroke played with
+      her tea-spoon, and did not deign to utter a syllable; and when the
+      gentlemen left the breakfast-table, and returned to their business,
+      Griselda, who was, as our readers may have observed, one of the
+      fashionable lollers by profession, established herself upon a couch, and
+      began an attack upon Emma, for spoiling her husband in such a sad manner.
+      Emma defended herself in a playful way, by answering that she could not
+      venture to give unnecessary pain, because she was not so sure as some of
+      her friends might be of their power of giving pleasure. Mrs. Bolingbroke
+      proceeded to descant upon the difference between friendship and love: with
+      some vanity, and some malice, she touched upon the difference between the
+      <i>sorts of sentiments</i> which different women excited. Passion, she
+      argued, could be kept alive only by a certain happy mixture of caprice and
+      grace, coldness and ill-humour. She confessed that, for her part, she
+      never could be content with the friendship of a husband. Emma, without
+      claiming or disclaiming her pretensions to love, quoted the saying of a
+      French gentleman:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;L&rsquo;Amitié est l&rsquo;Amour sans ailes.&rdquo;
+
+  &ldquo;Friendship is Love deprived of his wings.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Griselda had no apprehension that love could ever fly from her, and she
+      declared she could not endure him without his wings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our heroine did not imagine that any of the little vexations which she
+      habitually inflicted upon her husband could really diminish his regard.
+      She, never had calculated the prodigious effects which can be produced by
+      petty causes constantly acting. Indeed this is a consideration, to which
+      the pride or short-sightedness of human nature is not prone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Who in contemplating one of Raphael&rsquo;s finest pictures, fresh from the
+      master&rsquo;s hand, ever bestowed a thought upon the wretched little worm which
+      works its destruction? Who that beholds the gilded vessel gliding in
+      gallant trim&mdash;&ldquo;youth at the prow, and pleasure at the helm;&rdquo; ever at
+      that instant thought of&mdash;barnacles? The imagination is disgusted by
+      the anti-climax; and of all species of the bathos, the sinking from
+      visionary happiness to sober reality is that from which human nature is
+      most averse. The wings of the imagination, accustomed to ascend, resist
+      the downward flight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Confident of her charms, heedless of danger, accustomed to think her
+      empire absolute and eternal; our heroine, to amuse herself, and to display
+      her power to Emma, persisted in her practice of tormenting. The ingenuity
+      with which she varied her tortures was certainly admirable. After
+      exhausting old ones, she invented new; and when the new lost their
+      efficacy, she recurred to the old. She had often observed, that the blunt
+      method of contradicting, which some bosom friends practise in
+      conversation, is of sovereign power to provoke; and this consequently,
+      though unpolite, she disdained not to imitate. It had the greater effect,
+      as it was in diametrical opposition to the style of Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s
+      conversation; who, in discussions with her husband, or her intimate
+      friends, was peculiarly and habitually attentive to politeness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Ella biasmandol sempre, e dispregiando
+  Se gli venia piu sempre inimicando.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      By her judicious and kind interposition, Emma often prevented the
+      disagreeable consequences that threatened to ensue from Griselda&rsquo;s
+      disputatious habits; but one night it was past her utmost skill to avert a
+      violent storm, which arose about the pronunciation of a word. It began
+      about eleven o&rsquo;clock. Just as the family were sitting down to supper,
+      seemingly in perfect harmony of spirits, Mr. Bolingbroke chanced to say,
+      &ldquo;I think the wind is rising.&rdquo; (He pronounced the word <i>wi*nd, short</i>.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      [Transcriber&rsquo;s note: What is printed in the original text as an &ldquo;i&rdquo; with a
+      breve is rendered here as &ldquo;i*&rdquo;.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>Wi*nd</i>! my dear,&rdquo; cried his wife, echoing his pronunciation; &ldquo;do,
+      for heaven&rsquo;s sake, call it wi*nd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lady sounded this word long.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wind! my love,&rdquo; repeated he after her: &ldquo;I doubt whether that be the right
+      pronunciation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am surprised you can doubt it,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;for I never heard any body
+      call it <i>wi*nd</i> but yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did not you, my love? that is very extraordinary: many people, I believe,
+      call it <i>wi*nd</i>.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vulgarians, perhaps!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Vulgarians! No, indeed, my dear; very polite, well-informed people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda, with a look of unutterable contempt, reiterated the word <i>polite</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my dear, <i>polite</i>,&rdquo; persisted Mr. Bolingbroke, who was now come
+      to such a pass, that he would defend his opinion in opposition to hers,
+      stoutly and warmly. &ldquo;Yes, <i>polite</i>, my dear, I maintain it; the most
+      <i>polite</i> people pronounce it as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may maintain what you please, my dear,&rdquo; said the lady, coolly; &ldquo;but I
+      maintain the contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assertion is no proof on either side, I acknowledge,&rdquo; said Mr.
+      Bolingbroke, recollecting himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, in truth,&rdquo; said Mrs. Bolingbroke, &ldquo;especially such an absurd
+      assertion as yours, my dear. Now I will go no farther than Mrs. Granby:&mdash;Mrs.
+      Granby, did you ever hear any person, who knew how to speak, pronounce
+      wi*nd&mdash;<i>wi*nd</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Granby, have not you heard it called <i>wi*nd</i> in good company?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The disputants eagerly approached her at the same instant, and looked as
+      if their fortunes or lives depended upon the decision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I have heard the word pronounced both ways, by well-bred and
+      well-informed people,&rdquo; said Mrs. Granby.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is saying nothing, my dear,&rdquo; said Mrs. Bolingbroke, pettishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is saying all I want,&rdquo; said Mr. Bolingbroke, satisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would lay any wager, however, that Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, if he were here,
+      would give it in my favour; and I suppose you will not dispute his
+      authority.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not dispute the authority of Sheridan&rsquo;s Dictionary,&rdquo; cried Mr.
+      Bolingbroke, taking it down from the book-case, and turning over the
+      leaves hastily.&mdash;&ldquo;Sheridan gives it for me, my dear,&rdquo; said he, with
+      exultation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need not speak with such triumph, my dear, for I do not submit to
+      Sheridan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! Will you submit to Kenrick, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us see what he says, and I will then tell you,&rdquo; said the lady. &ldquo;No&mdash;Kenrick
+      was not of her opinion, and he was no authority.&rdquo; Walker was produced; and
+      this battle of the pronouncing dictionaries seemed likely to have no end.
+      Mrs. Granby, when she could be heard, remarked that it was difficult to
+      settle any dispute about pronunciation, because in fact no reasons could
+      be produced, and no standard appealed to but custom, which is perpetually
+      changing; and, as Johnson says, &ldquo;whilst our language is variable with the
+      caprice of all who use it, words can no more be ascertained in a
+      dictionary, than a grove in the agitation of a storm can be accurately
+      delineated from its picture in the water.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The combatants would scarcely allow Emma time to finish this allusion, and
+      certainly did not give themselves time to understand it; but continued to
+      fight about the word custom, the only word that they had heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, custom! custom!&rdquo; cried they at once, &ldquo;custom must decide, to be
+      sure.&rdquo; Then came <i>my</i> custom and <i>your</i> custom; the custom of
+      the stage, the custom of the best company, the custom of the best poets;
+      and all these were opposed to one another with increasing rapidity. &ldquo;Good
+      heavens, my dear! did you ever hear Kemble say, &lsquo;Rage on, ye <i>wi*nds</i>!&rsquo;&mdash;Ridiculous!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I grant you on the stage it may be winds; but in common conversation it
+      is allowable to pronounce it as I do, my dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I appeal to the best poets, Mr. Bolingbroke: nothing can be more absurd
+      than your way of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen, lively lordlings all!&rdquo; interrupted Emma, pressing with playful
+      vehemence between the disputants; &ldquo;I must be heard, for I have not spoken
+      this half hour, and thus I pronounce&mdash;You both are right, and both
+      are wrong.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, my good friends, had not we better go to rest?&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;for
+      it is past midnight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As they took their candles, and went up stairs, the parties continued the
+      battle: Mrs. Bolingbroke brought quotations innumerable to her aid, and in
+      a shrill tone repeated,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;He might not let even the winds of heaven
+  Visit her face too roughly.&rsquo;
+
+  &mdash;&mdash;&ldquo;&lsquo;pass by me as the idle wind,
+  Which I respect not.&rsquo;
+
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;And let her down the wind to prey at fortune.&rsquo;
+
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;Blow, thou winter&rsquo;s wind,
+  Thou art not so unkind.&rsquo;
+
+  &ldquo;&lsquo;Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks; rage, blow.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Her voice was raised to the highest pitch: it was in vain that her husband
+      repeated that he acknowledged the word should be called as she pronounced
+      it in poetry; she reiterated her quotations and her assertions till at
+      last she knew not what she said; her sense failed the more her anger
+      increased. At length Mr. Bolingbroke yielded. Noise conquers sometimes
+      where art fails.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thus,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;the hawk that could not be hoodwinked, was at last
+      tamed, by being exposed to the din of a blacksmith&rsquo;s hammer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda was incensed by this remark, and still more by the allusion,
+      which she called the second edition of the vampire-bat. Both husband and
+      wife went to sleep mutually displeased, and more disgusted with each other
+      than they had ever been since their marriage: and all this for the
+      pronunciation of a word!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Early in the morning they were wakened by a messenger, who brought an
+      express, informing Mr. Bolingbroke that his uncle was not expected to
+      live, and that he wished to see him immediately. Mr. Bolingbroke rose
+      instantly; all the time that he was dressing, and preparing in the
+      greatest hurry for his journey, Griselda tormented him by disputing about
+      the propriety of his going, and ended with, &ldquo;Promise me to write every
+      post, my dear; positively you must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;He sighs for freedom, she for power.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bolingbroke did not comply with his wife&rsquo;s request, or rather with her
+      injunction, to write <i>every post</i>: and when he did write, Griselda
+      always found some fault with his letters. They were too short, too stiff,
+      or too cold, and &ldquo;very different indeed,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;from what he used to
+      write before he was married.&rdquo; This was certainly true; and absence was not
+      at the present crisis the most advantageous thing possible to our heroine.
+      Absence is said to extinguish a weak flame, and to increase a strong one.
+      Mr. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s passion for his Griselda had, by some means, been of
+      late diminished. He parted from her with the disagreeable impression of a
+      dispute upon his mind. As he went farther from her he perceived that
+      instead of dragging a lengthened chain, his chain grew lighter. His uncle
+      recovered: he found agreeable society in the neighbourhood; he was
+      persuaded to prolong his stay: his mind, which had been continually
+      harassed, now enjoyed some tranquillity. On an unlucky evening, he
+      recollected Martial&rsquo;s famous epigram and his wife, in one and the same
+      instant:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;My mind still hovering round about you,
+  I thought I could not live without you;
+  But now we have lived three weeks asunder,
+  How I lived with you is the wonder.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      In the mean time, our heroine&rsquo;s chief amusement, in her husband&rsquo;s absence,
+      was writing to complain of him to Mrs. Nettleby. This lady&rsquo;s answers were
+      now filled with a reciprocity of conjugal abuse; she had found, to her
+      cost, that it is the most desperate imprudence to marry a fool, in the
+      hopes of governing him. All her powers of tormenting were lost upon her
+      blessed helpmate. He was not to be moved by wit or sarcasm, eloquence or
+      noise, tears or caresses, reason, jealousy, or the opinion of the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What did he care what the world thought, he would do as he pleased
+      himself; he would be master in his own house: it did not signify talking
+      or crying, or being in the right; right or wrong, he would be obeyed; a
+      wife should never govern him; he had no notion of letting a woman rule,
+      for his part; women were born to obey, and promised it in church. As to
+      jealousy, let his wife look to that; if she did not choose to behave
+      properly, he knew his remedy, and would as soon be divorced as not: &ldquo;Rule
+      a wife and have a wife,&rdquo; was the burden of his song.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was in vain to goad his insensible nature, in hopes of obtaining any
+      good: vain as the art said to be possessed by Linnæus, of producing pearls
+      by pricking oysters. Mrs. Nettleby, the witty, the spirited Widow
+      Nettleby, was now in the most hopeless and abject condition; tyrannized
+      over by a dunce,&mdash;and who could pity her? not even her dear Griselda.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day Mrs. Bolingbroke received an epistle of seven pages from <i>poor</i>
+      Mrs. Nettleby, giving a full and true account of Mr. Nettleby&rsquo;s
+      extraordinary obstinacy about &ldquo;the awning of a pleasure-boat, which he
+      would not suffer to be made according to her directions, and which
+      consequently caused the oversetting of the boat, and <i>very nearly</i>
+      the deaths of all the party.&rdquo; Tired with the long history, and with the
+      notes upon the history of this adventure, in Mrs. Nettleby&rsquo;s declamatory
+      style, our heroine walked out to refresh herself. She followed a pleasant
+      path in a field near the house, and came to a shady lane, where she heard
+      Mr. and Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s voices. She went towards the place. There was a turn
+      in the lane, and a thick hedge of hawthorn prevented them from being
+      immediately seen. As she approached, she heard Mr. Granby saying to Emma,
+      in the fondest tone of affection, &ldquo;My dear Emma, pray let it be done the
+      way that you like best.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were looking at a cottage which they were building. The masons had,
+      by mistake, followed the plan which Mr. Granby proposed, instead of that
+      which Emma had suggested. The wall was half built; but Mr. Granby desired
+      that it might be pulled down and altered to suit Emma&rsquo;s taste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless me!&rdquo; cried Griselda, with great surprise, &ldquo;are you really going to
+      have it pulled down, Mr. Granby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; replied he; &ldquo;and what is more, I am going to help to pull it
+      down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He ran to assist the masons, and worked with a degree of zeal, which
+      increased Mrs. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Heavens!&mdash;He could not do more for you if you were his
+      mistress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He never did so much for me, till I was his wife,&rdquo; said Emma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s strange!&mdash;Very unlike other men. But, my dear,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Bolingbroke, taking Mrs. Granby&rsquo;s arm, and drawing her aside, &ldquo;how did you
+      acquire such surprising power over your husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By not desiring it, I believe,&rdquo; replied Emma, smiling; &ldquo;I have never used
+      any other art.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Et cependant avec toute sa diablerie,
+  Il faut que je l&rsquo;appelle et mon coeur et ma mie.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Our heroine was still meditating upon the extraordinary method by which
+      Emma had acquired power over her husband, when a carriage drove down the
+      lane, and Mr. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s head appeared looking out of the chaise
+      window. His face did not express so much joy as she thought it ought to
+      display at the sight of her, after three weeks&rsquo; absence. She was vexed,
+      and received him coldly. He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Granby, and was not
+      miserable. Griselda did not speak one word during their walk home; still
+      her husband continued in good spirits: she was more and more out of
+      humour, and took no pains to conceal her displeasure. He bore it well, but
+      then he seemed to feel it so little, that she was exasperated beyond
+      measure; she seized the first convenient opportunity, when she found him
+      alone, of beginning a direct attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is not the way in which you <i>used</i> to meet me, after an absence
+      ever so short.&rdquo; He replied, that he was really very glad to see her, but
+      that she, on the contrary, seemed sorry to see him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because you are quite altered now,&rdquo; continued she, in a querulous tone.
+      &ldquo;I always prophesied, that you would cease to love me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take care, my dear,&rdquo; said he, smiling; &ldquo;some prophecies are the cause of
+      their own accomplishment,&mdash;the sole cause. Come, my Griselda,&rdquo;
+       continued he, in a serious tone, &ldquo;do not let us begin to quarrel the
+      moment we meet.&rdquo; He offered to embrace her, but she drew back haughtily.
+      &ldquo;What! do you confess that you no longer love me?&rdquo; cried she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Far from it: but it is in your own power,&rdquo; said he, hesitating, &ldquo;to
+      diminish or increase my love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is no love, if it can be either increased or diminished,&rdquo; cried
+      she; &ldquo;it is no love worth having. I remember the day when you swore to me,
+      that your affection could not be increased or diminished.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was <i>in</i> love in those days, my dear, and did not know what I
+      swore,&rdquo; said Mr. Bolingbroke, endeavouring to turn the conversation:
+      &ldquo;never reproach a man, when he is sober, with what he said when he was
+      drunk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are sober now, are you?&rdquo; cried she angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is to be hoped I am,&rdquo; said he, laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cruel, barbarous man!&rdquo; cried she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For being sober?&rdquo; said he: &ldquo;have not you been doing all you could to
+      sober me these eighteen months, my dear? and now do not be angry if you
+      have in some degree succeeded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Succeeded!&mdash;Oh, wretched woman! this is thy lot!&rdquo; exclaimed
+      Griselda, clasping her hands in an agony of passion. &ldquo;Oh, that my whole
+      unfortunate sex could <i>see</i> me,&mdash;could <i>hear</i> you at this
+      instant! Never, never did the love of man endure one twelvemonth after
+      marriage. False, treacherous, callous, perjured tyrant! leave me! leave
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed; she called him back, with a voice half suffocated with rage,
+      but he returned not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Never was departing love recalled by the voice of reproach. It is not, as
+      the poet fables, at the sight of human ties, that Cupid is frightened, for
+      he is blind; but he has the most delicate ears imaginable: scared at the
+      sound of female objurgation, Love claps his wings and urges his
+      irrevocable flight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda remained for some time in her apartment to indulge her
+      ill-humour; she had leisure for this indulgence; she was not now, as
+      formerly, disturbed by the fond interruptions of a husband. Longer had her
+      angry fit lasted, but for a circumstance, which may to many of our readers
+      appear unnatural: our heroine became hungry. The passions are more under
+      the control of the hours of meals<a href="#linknote-20"
+       name="linknoteref-20" id="linknoteref-20"><small>20</small></a> than any
+      one, who has not observed human life out of novels, can easily believe.
+      Dinner-time came, and Mrs. Bolingbroke appeared at dinner as usual. In the
+      presence of Mr. and Mrs. Granby pride compelled Griselda to command
+      herself, and no one could guess what had passed between her and her
+      husband: but no sooner was she again tête-à-tête with him, than her
+      reproaches recommenced with fresh violence.&mdash;&ldquo;Will you only do me the
+      justice to tell me, Mr. Bolingbroke,&rdquo; cried she, &ldquo;what reason you have to
+      love me less?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reason, my dear,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;you know love is independent of reason,
+      according to your own definition: love is involuntary, you cannot
+      therefore blame me for its caprices.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Insulting casuistry!&rdquo; said she, weeping; &ldquo;sophistical nonsense! Have you
+      any rational complaint to make against me, Bolingbroke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I make no complaints, rational or irrational, my dear; they are all on
+      your side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And well they may be,&rdquo; cried Griselda, &ldquo;when you treat me in such a
+      barbarous manner: but I do not complain; the world shall be my judge; the
+      world will do me justice, if you will not. I appeal to every body who
+      knows me, have I ever given you the slightest cause for ill-usage? Can you
+      accuse me of any extravagance, of any imprudence, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I accuse you of neither, Mrs. Bolingbroke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, because you cannot, sir; my character, my fidelity is unimpeached,
+      unimpeachable: the world will do me justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda contrived to make even her virtues causes of torment. Upon the
+      strength of this unimpeachable fidelity, she thought she might be as
+      ill-humoured as she pleased; she seemed now to think that she had acquired
+      an indefeasible right to reproach her husband, since she had extorted from
+      him the confession that he loved her less, and that he had no crime to lay
+      to her charge. Ten days passed on in this manner; the lady becoming every
+      hour more irritable, the gentleman every hour more indifferent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To have revived or killed affection <i>secundem artem</i>, the fair
+      practitioner should now have thrown in a little jealousy: but, unluckily,
+      she was so situated that this was impossible. No object any way fit for
+      the purpose was at hand; nothing was to be found within ten miles of her
+      but honest country squires; and,
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;With all the powers of nature and of art,
+  She could not break one stubborn country heart.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0048" id="link2HCH0048"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;To whom the virgin majesty of Eve,
+  As one who loves and some unkindness meets,
+  With sweet austere composure thus replies.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Many privileges are, and ought to be, allowed to the virgin majesty of the
+      sex; and even when the modern fair one does not reply with all the sweet
+      austere composure of Eve, her anger may have charms for a lover. There is
+      a certain susceptibility of temper, that sometimes accompanies the pride
+      of virtue, which indicates a quick sense of shame, and warm feelings of
+      affection; in whatsoever manner this may be shown, it appears amiable and
+      graceful. And if this sensibility degenerate into irritability, a lover
+      pardons it in his mistress; it is her prerogative to be haughty; and if he
+      be dexterous to seize &ldquo;the moment of returning love,&rdquo; it is often his
+      interest to promote quarrels, for the sake of the pleasures of
+      reconciliation. The jealous doubts, the alternate hopes and fears,
+      attendant on the passion of love, are dear to the lover whilst his passion
+      lasts; but when that subsides&mdash;as subside it must&mdash;his taste for
+      altercation ceases. The proverb which favours the quarrels of lovers may
+      prove fatal to the happiness of husbands; and woe be to the wife who puts
+      her faith in it! There are, however, people who would extend that
+      dangerous maxim even to the commerce of friendship; and it must be allowed
+      (for morality, neither in small matters nor great, can gain any thing by
+      suppressing the truth), it must be allowed that in the commencement of an
+      intimacy the quarrels of friends may tend to increase their mutual regard,
+      by affording to one or both of them opportunities of displaying qualities
+      superior even to good humour; such as truth, fidelity, honour, or
+      generosity. But whatever may be the sum total of their merit, when upon
+      long acquaintance it comes to be fully known and justly appreciated, the
+      most splendid virtues or talents can seldom compensate in domestic life
+      for the want of temper. The fallacy of a maxim, like the absurdity of an
+      argument, is sometimes best proved by pushing it as far as it can go, by
+      observing all its consequences. Our heroine, in the present instance,
+      illustrates this truth to admiration: her life and her husband&rsquo;s had now
+      become a perpetual scene of disputes and reproaches; every day the
+      quarrels grew more bitter, and the reconciliations less sweet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One morning, Griselda and her husband were present whilst Emma was busy
+      showing some poor children how to plait straw for hats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Next summer, my dear, when we are settled at home, I hope you will
+      encourage some manufacture of this kind amongst the children of our
+      tenants,&rdquo; said Mr. Bolingbroke to his lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no genius for teaching manufactures of this sort,&rdquo; replied Mrs.
+      Bolingbroke, scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her husband urged the matter no farther. A few minutes afterwards, he drew
+      out a straw from a bundle, which one of the children held.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a fine straw!&rdquo; said he, carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine straw!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Bolingbroke: &ldquo;no&mdash;that is very coarse.
+      This,&rdquo; continued she, pulling one from another bundle; &ldquo;this is a fine
+      straw, if you please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think mine is the finest,&rdquo; said Mr. Bolingbroke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you must be blind, Mr. Bolingbroke,&rdquo; cried the lady, eagerly
+      comparing them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; said he, laughing, &ldquo;we will not dispute about straws.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;but I observe whenever you know you are in the
+      wrong, Mr. Bolingbroke, you say, <i>we will not dispute, my dear</i>: now
+      pray look at these straws, Mrs. Granby, you that have eyes&mdash;which is
+      the finest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will draw lots,&rdquo; said Emma, taking one playfully from Mrs. Bolingbroke;
+      &ldquo;for it seems to me, that there is little or no difference between them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No difference? Oh, my dear Emma!&rdquo; said Mrs. Bolingbroke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Griselda,&rdquo; cried her husband, taking the other straw from her and
+      blowing it away; &ldquo;indeed it is not worth disputing about: this is too
+      childish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Childish!&rdquo; repeated she, looking after the straw, as it floated down the
+      wind; &ldquo;I see nothing childish in being in the right: your raising your
+      voice in that manner never convinces me. Jupiter is always in the wrong,
+      you know, when he has recourse to his thunder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thunder, my dear Griselda, about a straw! Well, when women are determined
+      to dispute, it is wonderful how ingenious they are in finding subjects. I
+      give you joy, my dear, of having attained the perfection of the art: you
+      can now literally dispute about straws.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emma insisted at this instant upon having an opinion about the shape of a
+      hat, which she had just tied under the chin of a rosy little girl of six
+      years old; upon whose smiling countenance she fixed the attention of the
+      angry lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All might now have been well; but Griselda had a pernicious habit of
+      recurring to any slight words of blame which had been used by her friends.
+      Her husband had congratulated her upon having attained the perfection of
+      the art of disputing, since she could cavil about straws. This reproach
+      rankled in her mind. There are certain diseased states of the body, in
+      which the slightest wound festers, and becomes incurable. It is the same
+      with the mind; and our heroine&rsquo;s was in this dangerous predicament.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0049" id="link2HCH0049"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Que suis je?&mdash;qu&rsquo;ai je fait? Que dois-je faire encore?
+  Quel transport me saisit? Quel chagrin me dévore?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Some hours after the quarrel about the straws, when her husband had
+      entirely forgotten it, and was sitting very quietly in his own apartment
+      writing a letter, Griselda entered the room with a countenance prepared
+      for great exploits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Bolingbroke,&rdquo; she began in an awful tone of voice, &ldquo;if you are at
+      leisure to attend to me, I wish to speak to you upon a subject of some
+      importance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am quite at leisure, my dear; pray sit down: what is the matter? you
+      really alarm me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not my intention to alarm you, Mr. Bolingbroke,&rdquo; continued she in a
+      still more solemn tone; &ldquo;the time is past when what I have to say could
+      have alarmed: I am persuaded that you will now hear it without emotion, or
+      with an emotion of pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused; he laid down his pen, and looked all expectation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am come to announce to you a fixed, unalterable resolution&mdash;To
+      part from you, Mr. Bolingbroke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you serious, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perfectly serious, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      These words did not produce the revolution in her husband&rsquo;s countenance
+      which Griselda had expected. She trembled with a mixed indescribable
+      emotion of grief and rage when she heard him calmly reply, &ldquo;Let us part,
+      then, Griselda, if that be your wish; but let me be sure that it is your
+      wish: I must have it repeated from your lips when you are perfectly calm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a voice inarticulate from passion, Griselda began to assure him that
+      she was perfectly calm; but he stopped her, and mildly said, &ldquo;Take
+      four-and-twenty hours to consider of what you are about, Griselda; I will
+      be here at this time to-morrow to learn your final determination.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bolingbroke left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke was incapable of thinking: she could only feel.
+      Conflicting passions assailed her heart. All the woman rushed upon her
+      soul; she loved her husband more at this instant than she had ever loved
+      him before. His firmness excited at once her anger and her admiration. She
+      could not believe that she had heard his <i>words rightly</i>. She sat
+      down to recall minutely every circumstance of what had just passed, every
+      word, every look; she finished by persuading herself, that his calmness
+      was affected, that the best method she could possibly take was by a show
+      of resistance to bully him out of his indifference. She little knew what
+      she hazarded; when the danger of losing her husband&rsquo;s love was imaginary,
+      and solely of her own creating, it affected her in the most violent
+      manner; but now that the peril was real and imminent, she was insensible
+      to its existence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A celebrated traveller in the Alps advises people to imagine themselves
+      walking amidst precipices, when they are safe upon smooth ground; and he
+      assures them that by this practice they may inure themselves so to the
+      idea of danger, as to prevent all sense of it in the most perilous
+      situations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The four-and-twenty hours passed; and at the appointed moment our heroine
+      and her husband met. As she entered the room, she observed that he held a
+      book in his hand, but was not reading: he put it down, rose deliberately,
+      and placed a chair for her, in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, I would rather stand,&rdquo; said she: he put aside the chair, and
+      walked to a door at the other end of the room, to examine whether there
+      was any one in the adjoining apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not necessary that what we have to say should be overheard by
+      servants,&rdquo; said he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no objection to being overheard,&rdquo; said Griselda: &ldquo;I have nothing
+      to say of which I am ashamed; and all the world must know it soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Mr. Bolingbroke returned towards her, she examined his countenance with
+      an inquisitive eye. It was expressive of concern; grave, but calm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whoever has seen a balloon&mdash;the reader, however impatient, must
+      listen to this allusion&mdash;whoever has seen a balloon, may have
+      observed that in its flaccid state it can be folded and unfolded with the
+      greatest ease, and it is manageable even by a child; but when once filled,
+      the force of multitudes cannot restrain, nor the art of man direct its
+      course. Such is the human mind&mdash;so tractable before, so ungovernable
+      after it fills with passion. By slow degrees, unnoticed by our heroine,
+      the balloon had been filling. It was full; but yet it was held down by
+      strong cords: it remained with her to cut or not to cut them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reflect before you speak, my dear Griselda,&rdquo; said her husband; &ldquo;consider
+      that on the words which you are going to pronounce depend your fate and
+      mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have reflected sufficiently,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and decide, Mr. Bolingbroke&mdash;to
+      part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be it so!&rdquo; cried he; fire flashed from his eyes; he grew red and pale in
+      an instant. &ldquo;Be it so,&rdquo; repeated he, in an irrevocable voice&mdash;&ldquo;We
+      part for ever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He vanished before Griselda could speak or think. She was breathless; her
+      limbs trembled; she could not support herself; she sunk she knew not
+      where. She certainly loved her husband better than any thing upon earth,
+      except power. When she came to her senses, and perceived that she was
+      alone, she felt as if she was abandoned by all the world. The dreadful
+      words &ldquo;for ever,&rdquo; still sounded in her ears. She was tempted to yield her
+      humour to her affection. It was but a momentary struggle; the love of sway
+      prevailed. When she came more fully to herself, she recurred to the belief
+      that her husband could not be in earnest, or at least that he would never
+      persist, if she had but the courage to dare him to the utmost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0050" id="link2HCH0050"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;L&rsquo;ai-je vu se troubler, et me plaindre un moment?
+  En ai-je pu tirer un seul gémissement?&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Ashamed of her late weakness, our heroine rallied all her spirits, and
+      resolved to meet her husband at supper with an undaunted countenance. Her
+      provoking composure was admirably prepared: but it was thrown away, for
+      Mr. Bolingbroke did not appear at supper. When Griselda retired to rest,
+      she found a note from him on her dressing-table; she tore it open with a
+      triumphant hand, certain that it came to offer terms of reconciliation.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;You will appoint whatever friend you think proper to settle
+    the terms of our separation. The time I desire to be as soon as
+    possible. I have not mentioned what has passed to Mr. or Mrs.
+    Granby; you will mention it to them or not, as you think fit. On
+    this point, as on all others, you will henceforward follow your
+    own discretion.
+
+    &ldquo;T. BOLINGBROKE.&rdquo;
+
+    &ldquo;Twelve o&rsquo;clock;
+
+    &ldquo;Saturday, Aug. 10th.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke read and re-read this note, weighed every word, examined
+      every letter, and at last exclaimed aloud, &ldquo;He will not, cannot, part from
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He cannot be in earnest,&rdquo; thought she. &ldquo;Either he is acting a part or he
+      is in a passion. Perhaps he is instigated by Mr. Granby: no, that cannot
+      be, because he says he has not mentioned it to Mr. or Mrs. Granby, and he
+      always speaks the truth. If Emma had known it, she would have prevented
+      him from writing such a harsh note, for she is such a good creature. I
+      have a great mind to consult her; she is so indulgent, so soothing. But
+      what does Mr. Bolingbroke say about her? He leaves me to my own
+      discretion, to mention what has passed or not. That means, mention it,
+      speak to Mrs. Granby, that she may advise you to submit. I will not say a
+      word to her; I will out-general him yet. He cannot leave me when it comes
+      to the trial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down, and wrote instantly this answer to her husband&rsquo;s note:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;I agree with you entirely, that the sooner we part the better.
+    I shall write to-morrow to my friend Mrs. Nettleby, with whom I
+    choose to reside. Mr. John Nettleby is the person I fix upon to
+    settle the terms of our separation. In three days I shall have
+    Mrs. Nettleby&rsquo;s answer. This is Saturday: on Tuesday, then, we
+    part&mdash;for ever.
+
+    &ldquo;GRISELDA BOLINGBROKE.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke summoned her maid. &ldquo;Deliver this note,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;with
+      your own hand; do not send Le Grand with it to his master.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Griselda waited impatiently for her maid&rsquo;s return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No answer, madam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No answer! are you certain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certain, ma&rsquo;am: my master only said, &lsquo;Very well.&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why did not you ask him if there was any answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did, ma&rsquo;am. I said, &lsquo;Is there no answer for my lady?&rsquo; &lsquo;No answer,&rsquo; said
+      he.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was he up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma&rsquo;am: he was in bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was he asleep when you went in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot say positively, ma&rsquo;am: he undrew the curtain as I went in, and
+      asked, &lsquo;Who&rsquo;s there?&rsquo;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you go in on tiptoe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forget, really, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You forget really! Idiot!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, ma&rsquo;am, I recollect he turned his head to go to sleep as I closed the
+      curtain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need not wait,&rdquo; said Mrs. Bolingbroke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Provoked beyond the power of sleep, Mrs. Bolingbroke gave free expression
+      to her feelings, in an eloquent letter to Mrs. Nettleby; but even after
+      this relief, Griselda could not rest; so much was she disturbed by the
+      repose that her husband enjoyed, or was reputed to enjoy. In the morning
+      she placed her letter in full view upon the mantel-piece in the
+      drawing-room, in hopes that it would strike terror into the heart of her
+      husband. To her great mortification, she saw Mr. Bolingbroke, with an
+      unchanged countenance, give it to the servant, who came to ask for
+      &ldquo;letters for the post.&rdquo; She had now three days of grace, before Mrs.
+      Nettleby&rsquo;s answer could arrive; but of these she disdained to take
+      advantage: she never mentioned what had passed to Mrs. Granby, but
+      persisted in the same haughty conduct towards her husband, persuaded that
+      she should conquer at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The third day came, and brought an answer from Mrs. Nettleby. After a
+      prodigious parade of professions, a decent display of astonishment at Mr.
+      Bolingbroke&rsquo;s strange conduct, and pity for her dear Griselda, Mrs.
+      Nettleby came to the point, and was sorry to say, that Mr. Nettleby was in
+      one of his obstinate fits, and could not be brought to listen to the
+      scheme so near her heart: &ldquo;He would have nothing to do, he said, with
+      settling the terms of Mr. and Mrs. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s separation, not he!&mdash;He
+      absolutely refuses to meddle between man and wife; and calls it meddling,&rdquo;
+       continued Mrs. Nettleby, &ldquo;to receive you as an inmate, after you have
+      parted from your husband. Mr. Bolingbroke, he says, has always been very
+      civil to him, and came to see him in town; therefore he will not encourage
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke in her tantarums. I represented to him, that Mr. B.
+      desires the thing, and leaves the choice of a residence to yourself: but
+      Mr. Nettleby replied, in his brutal way, that you might choose a residence
+      where you would, except in his house; that his house was his castle, and
+      should never be turned into an asylum for runagate wives; that he would
+      not set such an example to his own wife, &amp;c. But,&rdquo; continued Mrs.
+      Nettleby, &ldquo;you can imagine all the foolish things he said, and I need not
+      repeat them, to vex you and myself. I know that he refuses to receive you,
+      my dear Mrs. Bolingbroke, on purpose to provoke me. But what can one do or
+      say to such a man?&mdash;Adieu, my dear. Pray write when you are at
+      leisure, and tell me how things are settled, or rather what is settled
+      upon you; which, to be sure, is now the only thing that you have to
+      consider.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ever yours, affectionately,
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;R. H. NETTLEBY.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;P.S. Before you leave Devonshire, do, my dear, get me some of the fine
+      Devonshire lace; three or four dozen yards will do. I trust implicitly to
+      your taste. You know I do not mind the price; only let it be broad, for
+      narrow lace is my aversion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0051" id="link2HCH0051"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Lost is the dear delight of giving pain!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mortified by her dear friend&rsquo;s affectionate letter and postscript,
+      Griselda was the more determined to persist in her resolution to defy her
+      husband to the utmost. The catastrophe, she thought, would always be in
+      her own power; she recollected various separation scenes in novels and
+      plays where the lady, after having tormented her husband or lover by every
+      species of ill conduct, reforms in an instant, and a reconciliation is
+      effected by some miraculous means. Our heroine had seen Lady Townley
+      admirably well acted, and doubted not that she could now perform her part
+      victoriously. With this hope, or rather in this confidence, she went in
+      search of Mr. Bolingbroke. He was not in the house; he had gone out to
+      take a solitary walk. Griselda hoped that she was the object of his
+      reflections, during his lonely ramble.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said she to herself, &ldquo;my power is not exhausted: I shall make his
+      heart ache yet; and when he yields, how I will revenge myself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rang for her woman, and gave orders to have every thing immediately
+      prepared for her departure. &ldquo;As soon as the trunks are packed, let them be
+      corded, and placed in the great hall,&rdquo; said she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Our heroine, who had a happy memory, full well recollected the effect
+      which the sight of the corded trunks produced in the &ldquo;Simple Story,&rdquo; and
+      she thought the stroke so good that it would bear repetition. With malice
+      prepense, she therefore prepared the blow, which she flattered herself
+      could not fail to astound her victim. Her pride still revolted from the
+      idea of consulting Mrs. Granby; but some apology was requisite for thus
+      abruptly quitting her house. Mrs. Bolingbroke began in a tone that seemed
+      intended to preclude all discussion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Granby, do you know that Mr. Bolingbroke and I have come to a
+      resolution to be happy the rest of our lives; and, for this purpose, we
+      find it expedient to separate. Do not start or look so shocked, my dear.
+      This word separation may sound terrible to some people, but I have, thank
+      Heaven! sufficient strength of mind to hear it with perfect composure.
+      When a couple who are chained together pull different ways, the sooner
+      they break their chain the better. I shall set out immediately for
+      Weymouth. You will excuse me, my dear Mrs. Granby; you see the necessity
+      of the case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Granby, with the most delicate kindness, began to expostulate; but
+      Griselda declared that she was incapable of using a friend so ill as to
+      pretend to listen to advice, when her mind was determined irrevocably.
+      Emma had no intention, she said, of obtruding her advice, but she wished
+      that Mrs. Bolingbroke would give her own excellent understanding time to
+      act, and that she would not throw away the happiness of her life in a fit
+      of passion. Mrs. Bolingbroke protested that she never was freer from
+      passion of every sort than she was at this moment. With an unusually
+      placid countenance, she turned from Mrs. Granby and sat down to the
+      piano-forte. &ldquo;We shall not agree if I talk any more upon this subject,&rdquo;
+       continued she, &ldquo;therefore I had better sing. I believe my music is better
+      than my logic: at all events I prefer music.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a fine <i>bravura</i> style Griselda then began to sing&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;What have I to do with thee,
+  Dull, unjoyous constancy?&rdquo; &amp;c.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      And afterwards she played all her gayest airs to convince Mrs. Granby that
+      her heart was quite at ease. She continued playing for an unconscionable
+      time, with the most provoking perseverance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emma stood at the window, watching for Mr. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s return. &ldquo;Here
+      comes Mr. Bolingbroke!&mdash;How melancholy he looks!&mdash;Oh, my dear
+      Griselda,&rdquo; cried she, stopping Mrs. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s hand as it ran gaily
+      over the keys, &ldquo;this is no time for mirth or bravado: let me conjure you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hate to be conjured,&rdquo; interrupted Griselda, breaking from her; &ldquo;I am
+      not a child, to be coaxed and kissed and sugar-plummed into being good,
+      and behaving prettily. Do me the favour to let Mr. Bolingbroke know that I
+      am in the study, and desire to speak to him for one minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No power could detain the peremptory lady: she took her way to the study,
+      and rejoiced as she crossed the hall, to see the trunks placed as she had
+      ordered. It was impossible that her husband could avoid seeing them the
+      moment he should enter the house.&mdash;What a satisfaction!&mdash;Griselda
+      seated herself at ease in an arm-chair in the study, and took up a book
+      which lay open on the table. Mr. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s pencil-case was in it, and
+      the following passage was marked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Il y a un lieu sur la terre où les joies pures sont inconnues; d&rsquo;où la
+      politesse est exilée et fait place à l&rsquo;ègoîsme, à la contradiction, aux
+      injures à demivoilées; le remords et l&rsquo;inquiétude, furies infatigables, y
+      tourmentent les habitans. Ce lieu est la maison de deux époux qui ne
+      peuvent ni s&rsquo;estimer, ni s&rsquo;aimer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Il y a un lieu sur la terre où le vice ne s&rsquo;introduit pas, où les
+      passions tristes n&rsquo;ont jamais d&rsquo;empire, où le plaisir et l&rsquo;innocence
+      habitent toujours ensemble, où les soins sont chers, où les travaux sont
+      doux, où les peines s&rsquo;oublient dans les entretiens, où l&rsquo;on jouit du
+      passé, du présent, de l&rsquo;avenir; et c&rsquo;est la maison de deux époux qui
+      s&rsquo;aiment."<a href="#linknote-21" name="linknoteref-21" id="linknoteref-21"><small>21</small></a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A pang of remorse seized Griselda, as she read these words; they seemed to
+      have been written on purpose for her. Struck with the sense of her own
+      folly, she paused&mdash;she doubted;&mdash;but then she thought that she
+      had gone too far to recede. Her pride could not bear the idea of
+      acknowledging that she had been wrong, or of seeking reconcilement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could live very happily with this man; but then to yield the victory to
+      him!&mdash;and to reform!&mdash;No, no&mdash;all reformed heroines are
+      stupid and odious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0052" id="link2HCH0052"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;And, vanquish&rsquo;d, quit victoriously the field.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Griselda flung the book from her as her husband entered the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have had an answer, madam, from your friend, Mrs. Nettleby, I
+      perceive,&rdquo; said he, calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have, sir. Family reasons prevent her from receiving me at present;
+      therefore I have determined upon going to Weymouth; where, indeed, I
+      always wished to spend this summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Bolingbroke evinced no surprise, and made not the slightest
+      opposition. Mrs. Bolingbroke was so much vexed, that she could scarcely
+      command her countenance: she bit her lip violently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With respect to any arrangements that are to be made, I am to understand
+      that you wish me to address myself to Mr. J. Nettleby,&rdquo; said her husband.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, to myself, if you please; I am prepared to listen, sir, to whatever
+      you may have to propose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These things are always settled best in writing,&rdquo; replied Mr.
+      Bolingbroke. &ldquo;Be so obliging as to leave me your direction, and you shall
+      hear from me, or from Mrs. Granby, in a few days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke hastily wrote a direction upon a card, and put it into
+      her husband&rsquo;s hand, with as much unconcern as she could maintain. Mr.
+      Bolingbroke continued, precisely in the same tone: &ldquo;If you have any thing
+      to suggest, that may contribute to your future convenience, madam, you
+      will be so good as to leave a memorandum with me, to which I shall
+      attend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He placed a sheet of paper before Mrs. Bolingbroke, and put a pen into her
+      hand. She made an effort to write, but her hand trembled so that she could
+      not form a letter. Her husband took up Saint Lambert, and read, or seemed
+      to read.&mdash;&ldquo;Open the window, Mr. Bolingbroke,&rdquo; said she. He obeyed,
+      but did not, as formerly, &ldquo;hang over her enamoured.&rdquo; He had been so often
+      duped by her fainting-fits and hysterics, that now, when she suffered in
+      earnest, he suspected her of artifice. He took up his book again, and
+      marked a page with his pencil. She wrote a line with a hurried hand, then
+      starting up, flung her pen from her, and exclaimed&mdash;&ldquo;I need not, will
+      not write; I have no request to make to you, Mr. Bolingbroke; do what you
+      will; I have no wishes, no wish upon earth&mdash;but to leave you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That wish will be soon accomplished, madam,&rdquo; replied he, unmoved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She pulled the bell till it broke.&mdash;A servant appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My carriage to the door directly, if you please, sir,&rdquo; cried she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A pause ensued. Griselda sat swelling with unutterable rage.&mdash;&ldquo;Heavens!
+      have you no feeling left?&rdquo; exclaimed she, snatching the book from his
+      hand; &ldquo;have you no feeling left, Mr. Bolingbroke, for any thing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have left me none for some things, Mrs. Bolingbroke, and I thank you.
+      All this would have broken my heart six months ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have no heart to break,&rdquo; cried she.&mdash;The carriage drove to the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One word more, before I leave you for ever, Mr. Bolingbroke,&rdquo; continued
+      she.&mdash;&ldquo;Blame yourself, not me, for all this.&mdash;When we were first
+      married, you humoured, you spoiled me; no temper could bear it.&mdash;Take
+      the consequences of your own weak indulgence.&mdash;Farewell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He made no effort to retain her, and she left the room.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &mdash;&mdash;&ldquo;Thus it shall befall
+  Him who to worth in woman overtrusting
+  Lets tier will rule: restraint she will not brook;
+  And left to herself, if evil thence ensue,
+  She first his <i>weak indulgence</i> will accuse.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      A confused recollection of this warning of Adam&rsquo;s was in Mr. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s
+      head at this moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Bolingbroke&rsquo;s carriage drove by the window, and she kissed her hand
+      to him as she passed. He had not sufficient presence of mind to return the
+      compliment. Our heroine enjoyed this last triumph of superior temper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether the victory was worth the winning, whether the modern Griselda
+      persisted in her spirited sacrifice of happiness, whether she was ever
+      reconciled to her husband, or whether the fear of &ldquo;reforming and growing
+      stupid&rdquo; prevailed, are questions which we leave to the sagacity or the
+      curiosity of her fair contemporaries.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
+  Let him now speak, &lsquo;tis charity to shew.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_FOOT" id="link2H_FOOT"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      FOOTNOTES:
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      1 (<a href="#linknoteref-1">return</a>)<br /> [ Fact.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      2 (<a href="#linknoteref-2">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Feel</i> it, become
+      sensible of it, know it.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      3 (<a href="#linknoteref-3">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Nor</i>, than.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-4" id="linknote-4"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      4 (<a href="#linknoteref-4">return</a>)<br /> [ As it may be satisfactory
+      to a large portion of the public, and to all men of taste, the editor
+      subjoins the following account of the Irish ortolan, which will convince
+      the world that this bird is not in the class of fabulous animals:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is a small bird, which is said to be peculiar to the Blasquet
+      Islands, called by the Irish, Gourder, the English name of which I am at a
+      loss for, nor do I find it mentioned by naturalists. It is somewhat larger
+      than a sparrow; the feathers of the back are dark, and those of the belly
+      are white; the bill is straight, short, and thick; and it is web-footed:
+      they are almost one lump of fat; when roasted, of a most delicious taste,
+      and are reckoned to exceed an ortolan; for which reason the gentry
+      hereabouts call them the <i>Irish Ortolan</i>. These birds are worthy of
+      being transmitted a great way to market; for ortolans, it is well known,
+      are brought from France to supply the markets of London.&rdquo;&mdash;See
+      Smith&rsquo;s Account of the County of Kerry, p. 186.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-5" id="linknote-5"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      5 (<a href="#linknoteref-5">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Convenient</i>, near.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-6" id="linknote-6"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      6 (<a href="#linknoteref-6">return</a>)<br /> [ Do I make you understand?]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-7" id="linknote-7"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      7 (<a href="#linknoteref-7">return</a>)<br /> [ Owned.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-8" id="linknote-8"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      8 (<a href="#linknoteref-8">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Neger</i>, quasi negro;
+      meo periculo, <i>niggard</i>]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-9" id="linknote-9"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      9 (<a href="#linknoteref-9">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Opening</i>; perhaps,
+      from <i>lacher</i>, to loosen.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-10" id="linknote-10"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      10 (<a href="#linknoteref-10">return</a>)<br /> [ What I can do without.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-11" id="linknote-11"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      11 (<a href="#linknoteref-11">return</a>)<br /> [ Leaving any woman out of
+      the question.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-12" id="linknote-12"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      12 (<a href="#linknoteref-12">return</a>)<br /> [ In the first place, my
+      lady, it is impossible! Surely my lady will not get out of her carriage
+      here?]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-13" id="linknote-13"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      13 (<a href="#linknoteref-13">return</a>)<br /> [ To be sure it must be as
+      my lady pleases&mdash;but my lady will find it terribly dirty!&mdash;my
+      Lady will find I was right&mdash;my lady will never get up that shocking
+      staircase&mdash;it is impossible!]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-14" id="linknote-14"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      14 (<a href="#linknoteref-14">return</a>)<br /> [ It was of this lady that
+      Marmontel said&mdash;&ldquo;She has the art of making the most common thoughts
+      appear new, and the most uncommon simple, by the elegance and clearness of
+      her expressions.&rdquo;]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-15" id="linknote-15"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      15 (<a href="#linknoteref-15">return</a>)<br /> [ To these observations
+      there are honourable exceptions.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-16" id="linknote-16"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      16 (<a href="#linknoteref-16">return</a>)<br /> [ <i>Vapeurs noirs</i>&mdash;vulgarly
+      known by the name of <i>blue devils</i>.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-17" id="linknote-17"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      17 (<a href="#linknoteref-17">return</a>)<br /> [ Since this was written,
+      the author has seen the same thoughts so much better expressed in the
+      following lines that she cannot forbear to quote them:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Since trifles make the sum of human things,
+  And half our mis&rsquo;ry from our foibles springs;
+  Since life&rsquo;s best joys consist in peace and ease,
+  And few can save or serve, but all may please:
+  Oh! let th&rsquo;ungentle spirit learn from hence,
+  A small unkindness is a great offence.
+  Large bounties to bestow we wish in vain;
+  But all may shun the guilt of giving pain.&rdquo;
+
+  SENSIBILITY. <i>By Mrs. H. More.</i>]
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-18" id="linknote-18"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      18 (<a href="#linknoteref-18">return</a>)<br /> [ &ldquo;Il est très-difficile de
+      se faire une idée nette de ce que les Anglais entendent par ce mot; on a
+      tenté plusieurs fois sans succès d&rsquo;en donner une définition précise.
+      Congreve, qui assurement a mis beaucoup d&rsquo;<i>humour</i> dans ses comédies,
+      dit, que c&rsquo;est <i>une manière singulière et inévitable de faire ou de dire
+      quelque chose, qui est naturelle et propre à un homme seul, et qui
+      distingue ses discours et ses actions des discours et des actions de tout
+      autre.</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cette définition, que nous traduisons littéralement, n&rsquo;est pas lumineuse;
+      elle conviendrait également à la manière dont Alexandre parle et agit dans
+      Plutarque, et à celle dont Sancho parle et agit dans Cervantes. II y a
+      apparence que l&rsquo;<i>humour</i> est comme l&rsquo;esprit, et que ceux qui en ont
+      le plus ne savent pas trop bien ce que c&rsquo;est.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nous croyons que ce genre de plaisanterie consiste surtout dans des idées
+      ou des tournures originales, qui tiennent plus au caractère qu&rsquo;à l&rsquo;esprit,
+      et qui semblent échapper à celui qui les produit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;L&rsquo;homme d&rsquo;<i>humour</i> est un plaisant sérieux, qui dit des choses
+      plaisantes sans avoir l&rsquo;air de vouloir être plaisant. Au reste, une scene
+      de Vanbrugh ou une satire de Swift, feront mieux sentir ce que c&rsquo;est, que
+      toutes les définitions du monde. Quant à la prétention de quelques Anglais
+      sur la possession exclusive de l&rsquo;<i>humour</i>, nous pensons que si ce
+      qu&rsquo;ils entendent par ce mot est un genre de plaisanterie qu&rsquo;on ne trouve
+      ni dans Aristophane, dans Plaute, et dans Lucien, chez lea anciens; ni
+      dans l&rsquo;Arioste, le Berni, le Pulci, et tant d&rsquo;autres, chez les Italiens;
+      ni dans Cervantes, chez les Espagnols; ni dans Rabener, chez les
+      Allemands; ni dans le Pantagruel, la satire Ménippée, le Roman comique,
+      les comédies de Molière, de Dufrèny, de Regnard etc., nous ne savons pas
+      ce que c&rsquo;est, et nous ne prendrons pas la peine de la chercher.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Suard,
+      Mélanges de Littérature</i>, vol. iv. p. 366.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-19" id="linknote-19"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      19 (<a href="#linknoteref-19">return</a>)<br /> [ See Botanic Garden, canto
+      2.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-20" id="linknote-20"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      20 (<a href="#linknoteref-20">return</a>)<br /> [ De Retz&rsquo; Memoirs.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="linknote-21" id="linknote-21"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="foot">
+      21 (<a href="#linknoteref-21">return</a>)<br /> [ M. de Saint Lambert,
+      Oeuvres Philosophiques, tome ii.]
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2H_4_0058" id="link2H_4_0058"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      END OF VOLUME VI
+    </h2>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg&rsquo;s Tales and Novels, Vol. 6, by Maria Edgeworth
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES AND NOVELS, VOL. 6 ***
+
+***** This file should be named 9620-h.htm or 9620-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/9/6/2/9620/
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, David Widger and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&ldquo;the Foundation&rdquo;
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; appears, or with which the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo; is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+&ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original &ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, &ldquo;Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.&rdquo;
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+&ldquo;Defects,&rdquo; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &ldquo;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&rdquo; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &lsquo;AS-IS&rsquo; WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm&rsquo;s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation&rsquo;s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state&rsquo;s laws.
+
+The Foundation&rsquo;s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation&rsquo;s web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+  </body>
+</html>