K» -r-r V-Ji
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 7^^'f^ 7^ /^^y^i
 
 MARGARET 
 
 AND 
 
 HER BRIDESMAIDS. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "The Q,ueen of the County," «The Challenge," &.o. 
 
 " Queen Rose of the Rosebud garden of girls." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 FIKST EDITION". 
 
 LORIN'a, Fiablislier, 
 
 319 WASHINGTON STREET, 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 1864.
 
 F. LECTROTYPED AT THE 
 
 BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, 
 
 4 SPRING LANE.
 
 
 I §«bicat£ this ^uh 
 
 TO 
 
 MARGARET, MY SISTER, 
 
 FEELING SURE THAT THE SEVEN OTHER SISTERS, WHO EQUALLY 
 
 BELONG TO US BOTH, WILL APPLAUD MY SELECTION, 
 
 AND APPROVE OF MY BOOK, IF ONLY FOR 
 
 HER SWEET SAKE. 
 
 i :wrj'% nn
 
 MARGARET 
 
 AND 
 
 HER BRIDESMAIDS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In a small room, furnished so as to indicate its purport, — a 
 study, — sat four girls. One, placed rather apart from the others, 
 occupied herself in some fancy-work, denoting by this, as well as 
 by her age and appearance, that she was no longer a school-girl ; 
 neither could she be mistaken for a governess. Her rich dress 
 and air rather pointed her out as a parlor-boarder among those 
 who were diligently occupied in painting and drawing. 
 
 A large, fair, indolent-looking gii'l was employed in copying 
 the picture of a chubby, smiling baby, while her neighbor, a 
 dark-haired, bright-looking picture of a regular school-girl, strove 
 in vain to impart a beautiful curl to the mustache of a knight. 
 Her pencil was obstinate, and evidently possessed of a common- 
 place miud, for nothing could induce it, guided by fingers ever so 
 willing, to perform such " a love of a mustache" as the original 
 from which it was copying. 
 
 In somewhat scornful distance from these two, sat a girl of 
 eighteen, painting flowers. Now and then they tittered and 
 laughed together, in a subdued tone, as if indulging in some jest 
 at the expense of the flower-painter, who, erect and disdainful, 
 showed no other symptom of annoyan.ce than a slight dilating of 
 her nostril, and a curl of the lip, that approached a sneer 
 too nearly not to mar her Saxon beauty. 
 
 The graceful worker by the fire would raise her serene pure 
 
 eyes to the school-girl scoflTers, now and then, Avhen they ventured 
 
 a thought too far for politeness, and they would subdue their 
 
 voices, as if in answer to the appeal. Through the crevices 
 
 1* (5)
 
 6 MARGARET 
 
 of large folding doors came the hum and murmur of a busy 
 school, which opening now, filled the smaller room with sound, 
 until the new comer >U\it the door. 
 
 A little, slight, childish thing, with tliick, rich curls in liigh 
 confusion all over her head, proceeded to pour a quantity 
 of counters, or good marks, into a little drawer in a bureau. 
 
 "Ah! Lotty," said the worker, "have vou really gained all 
 those ? " 
 
 "Where is Margaret?" answered Lotty, quickly, and looking 
 from one to l\n- other, Avith large, dark eyes of extraordinary in- 
 telligence and beauty. 
 
 " She is here," said a soft voice, at the small door of the 
 apartment. 
 
 They all exclaimed in various keys and phrases ; but Mar- 
 garet's face told a tale that husiied them. 
 
 They had parted from her the evening before, a gay school- 
 girl, as thoughtless and merry as themselves. 
 
 But some extraordinary change had taken place. ]\Iargaret 
 was blushing, confused, her eyes veiled, her voice tremulous a3 
 she said, in answer to their queries as to what had delayed her 
 so long, — 
 
 " I have been engaged, I mean I am engaged ; I have only 
 come for a few moments, I am going — that is, I wished to tell 
 you myself, I am going to be married ! " 
 
 " Law ! my dear ! " exclaimed Florence, the mustache at- 
 tempter. 
 
 " How nice !" drawled Caroline, the babv delineator. 
 
 " God bless my Margaret ! " said Millicenl, the worker. 
 
 " How very strange ! " nmrmured the scornful Augusta. 
 
 "A'b / " came from the little compressed, angry lips of Lotty. 
 
 "And mamma," continued tlic Idushing bride elect, " permits 
 me to come and ask you, 1 mean she wouhl be glad — and you 
 know that I shall be so also ; O ! so happy, so pleased, if you 
 will all be my ln-idesmaids." 
 
 " 1 shall be delighted, my love," cried Florence. 
 
 " How very nice ! " exclainu'd Caroline, with alacrity. 
 
 " Witli heartfelt jdeasinv, sweet Meg," whispered Millicent. 
 
 " If it is sf)Oii," said Augusta, scutentiously, " 1 siiall be happy 
 to oblige you." 
 
 A most stremious and indignant " Never ! " burst from the lips 
 of the little Lottv, as slu; (led from the room. 
 
 Then they all left their several occupations, aixl, iu utter deti- 
 ance of school houra and maaaers, they crowded round the blush- 
 ing Margaret.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 7 
 
 She had taken shelter at this important era of her life in the 
 loving arms of Milly, her eyes glancing up but once, as the lit- 
 tle, impetuous Lotty left the room ; then, the irrepressible smile 
 of a new gladness born in a fine and sensitive heart, broke 
 in dimples round her mouth, telling that tale the eyes hoped to 
 conceal. 
 
 " What shall you be married in, dear?" said Caroline. 
 
 "And how will the bridesmaids be di'essed?" asked Florence, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "■ Shall you be married in church, or by special license in the 
 drawing-room ? the latter is so nice, and no trouble," said Caro- 
 line. 
 
 " Don't have a bonnet, if you love me, but be covered with a 
 veil from head to foot," cried Florence. "And also other flowers 
 are worn in the bridal Avreath now, besides orange blossoms, 
 which I think a blessing." 
 
 "A blessing on my Margaret," whispered Milly's gentle voice. 
 
 " But, my dear, Avho is the happy man ? " said Augusta. "And 
 may I beg you to be early in naming the day, otherwise I know 
 not if I can officiate as bridesmaid." 
 
 "Pray, why not?" asked Florence, mockingly. 
 
 " I may be a bride myself," answered Augusta, haughtily. 
 "My marriage is likely to take place Avithin a few months." 
 
 " To -whom, I wonder ! " exclaimed the two girls sarcastically. 
 " Is it the old postman, or the policeman round the corner? " 
 
 " For shame ! " retorted Augusta ; " you judge of me by your- 
 selves ; a pair of hoiden school-girls, who cannot see when a 
 gentleman shows his preference by the* delicate attentions of 
 a gentleman. I allude to Sir Harold Leigh." 
 
 "Who?" said Margaret, raiding herself from Millicent's 
 arms ; " ah, no, Augusta ! " 
 
 " Wherefore not, my dear? Do you think no one has a lover 
 but yourself? " 
 
 Margaret placed her hand on Augusta's mouth. 
 
 " Hush ! " she said, " he is here, he is with mamma, he is my 
 Harold, I am his Margaret." 
 
 And at this avowal the fair face grew crimson with blushes, 
 and was fain to hide itself in Milly's redundant curls. Augusta 
 tried to laugh off her mistake with ill-concealed dismay, but tlie 
 other girls were too happy in the prospects of a wedding and all 
 its fun, to laugh at lier as unmercifully as she deserved, so that 
 she soon recovered her usual composure and assurance. 
 
 Besides, they all loved Margaret so well, her happiness 
 absorbed all other feelings.
 
 8 MARGARET 
 
 Caroliuc loved hor, borausp phe was so nnselfish and generous, 
 — virtues in Nvliith slio did uot .■^liiiie herself. 
 
 Florence, because Margaret Avas so simple and ingenuous, not 
 able to say what she did not think (a quality qtiitc out of Miss 
 Florence's "way, by the by). 
 
 Augusta loved her, or rather liked her, because Margaret was 
 rich and well-born, and freely imparted the advantages of the 
 first quality to those who recinired them. 
 
 Millicent, because she saw in Margaret a jiure and loving heart 
 like her own, wjthin the pious depths of which none knew the 
 strength and power that Avould come forth. 
 
 Lotty loved her — but Lotty is a wilfid little thing, and it is 
 hardly possible to say whom she loved, or why she loved. One 
 thing alone was certain : when Lotty loved, it was no half 
 measures — her heart and soul were alike involved. liiU the 
 luiusual connnotion in the iiuier school-room had nuide itself 
 known through the folding doors, and Miss Pultun, the head gov- 
 erness, appeared. 
 
 Millicent divulged the happy tidings : ^Margaret was kissed and 
 congratulated, a h<diday given on the spot to the whole school, 
 upon her whispered request, and, after asking for JNIillicent and 
 Lotty to rcnuiin the day and evening with her, ]\Iargaret 
 de]tartcd. 
 
 A strange, fluttering sensation filled her heart, as she passed 
 through the garden, and heard the merry laughter and joyous 
 glee of her schoolmates. 
 
 iShe felt happy, but it Avas an awe-struck luqipiness, that made 
 her think the woihl to(t small to contain such ieelings, and only 
 in the pure and loi'ty firmament oi' heaven could she find space 
 suilicient lor the love and gri'itudc Avelling Irom lier heart. It 
 seemed to her as if a new sun, a fairer sky. a more brilliant 
 world was plai-ed ])efbre her ; and yet she had done nothing, liail 
 no claim to make I'or siu-h gilts. Tlierclbre they might fade ; 
 to-morrow they might be gone — leaving behind that gray cloud 
 of blight and disappointnu-nt, consequent upon siu'h a flood of 
 light and happin(";s. As she placed her hand upon her heart, to 
 htill its tnnuiltiious })eating, an<l that one dread feeling, "could 
 all this l)e real?" she heard a faint sob, which came from behind 
 a tree. 
 
 "My little Lotty I" exclainud .Margaret, springing to her 
 school-fellow's side. 
 
 " "Why do you wish tf) marry?" nnu-nuu-ed Lotty, turning her 
 wet face from Mar-raret's kisses.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 9 
 
 " Because, because " began Margaret. 
 
 " Was not I your husband?" interrupted Lotty, impetuously ; 
 " and have not I always been your little fond, foolish husband, 
 ever since I came to school ? " 
 
 " Yes, my Lotty, and so you shall always be my little school- 
 husband." 
 
 "Then why do you want another? I have always been a 
 very kind, good husband ; mended all your pens, done all your 
 sums, run all your messages, and would have told fibs for you." 
 
 " That last was quite unnecessary, you know, little Lotty " 
 
 " Don't joke with me, I cannot bear it. But who is he? I 
 don't mind your marrying one person that I know of, and if it 
 is him I won't fret any more, for it is very fatiguing." 
 
 Margaret could only whisper the name. 
 
 Lotty exclaimed loudly. 
 
 " O, hush, Lotty ! " besought Margaret. 
 
 " I thought that man was making love to Augusta." 
 
 " And so did poor Augusta herself," said Margaret, her eyes 
 drooping. 
 
 " However," said Lotty, brightening up, " I always told her 
 the truth, that he really did not care for her one straw, but 
 admired you more, and I was right." 
 
 " Poor Augusta ! " murmured Margaret, her new sun, bright 
 ■world, and happy feelings beginning to fade. 
 
 " Not at all," said Lotty ; " she made the most love, and be- 
 sides he has shown his good taste, though he is not the right 
 man, mind, Margaret, so I never Avill give my consent. He is 
 a good judge of a horse, though ; Lucifer, the steeple-chaser, 
 belongs to him ; I should like to ride that horse. Queen Meg." 
 
 " Nonsense, Lotty ! " 
 
 "Why say 'nonsense,' Margaret? I will try and reconcile 
 myself to the marriage, if you will ask Sir Harold to let me ride 
 Lucifer sometimes." 
 
 " He may consent, but I shall not, Lotty." 
 
 " Supposing he were to throw me, Avhich no horse ever did 
 yet, Margaret, you won't care, you will be thinking of your 
 lov " 
 
 " Hush, you naughty Lotty ; why should I love you less?" 
 
 " I might have guessed what was going to happen, if I had 
 had the sense of a mouse, and then I could have warned you, 
 Margaret." 
 
 "Against what, Lotty?" 
 
 " Marrying Sir Harold Leigh. I know some one who loves 
 you much better "
 
 10 MARGARET 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty ! " 
 
 " Aud so this is the reason vre have been asked so often to 
 your house, this half year, aud .Sir IlaroUl always there ; and 
 thus it comes you like to talk of horses aud dogs, and I, like 
 a goose, listening to it all so unsuspiciously. I dou't deserve to 
 be Charlotte Boauvilliers." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 INI.vRGARET "was the only child left to her parents out of many, 
 and had been born in their old age as it were. 
 
 Some of their children had married and loft descendants, but 
 the affection they had bestowed alike on son and daughter was 
 now wholly concentrated on the blooming girl of eighteen. Not 
 even his fine sturdy grandsons (all that remained to him of his 
 first-born son) could rival, in old Sir Thomas's eyes, the shadow 
 of his daughter's form; while *" Margaret, my Margaret, sweet 
 Margaret," formed the pith of all Lady Montagu's conversation. 
 
 To lose nothing of her SAveet company, they had for the last 
 five years lived in Bath, where Margaret could have the advan- 
 tage of masters and companions of her own age. They Avcre so 
 unselfish in their love, they would not tie her merry spirit down 
 to their aged fireside, but lovingly said to each other, " What 
 have we now to live for, but to make Margaret happy?" 
 
 In the merry companionship of her schoolmates, the gentle, 
 quiet home of her parents, Margaret had grown up, the simplest, 
 most innocent-hearted girl, as she was almost the prettiest and 
 best. She had but just experienced her first sorrow, namely, 
 that she was to leave school, and part with her girlhood's friends, 
 unknowing if they might meet again, Avhen she made that abrujjt 
 entry into the school-room, with the announcement that was 
 almost as startling to her as to them. In their daily school 
 ■walks the girls were aware (as what girls are not?) that they 
 attracted much attention. 
 
 Some were keenly alive to it, as Augusta, Florence, and Caro- 
 line ; others scarcely noticed it, as Margaret and Millicent; 
 again, little turbulent spirits like Lotty's were indignant at such 
 imj)lied rudeness. 
 
 Certainly, the little jealous school-husbuud had cause for being
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 11 
 
 irate. No sooner did the school emerge from the house-door, 
 all bonneted and shawled, escorted by, and under the strict sur- 
 veillance of, the English and French governesses, than the hand- 
 somest man in Bath came curveting down the street on the 
 most beautiful horse in the town. i:^.. .^ 
 
 Slowly, at a funereal pace, went the well-trained ^ed, by the 
 long two-and-two line ; the rider's eyes generally riveted, as 
 Lotty indignantly declared, on Margaret; as Augusta- exultingly 
 believed, on herself. The gaze (if she caught it) but deepened 
 the bloom on Margaret's cheek ; but she was too much engaged 
 to attend to it. This was her time for tailing stories to the little 
 girls, and at present the tale was most alarmingly interesting, 
 and was duly repeated at night by the one favored little maiden, 
 who heard it from the fountain's head, to the others, when sup- 
 posed to be innocently sleeping. 
 
 Sir Harold might have been satisfied had he been able to gain 
 as much of Margaret's attention as he did of Augusta's. But 
 after six Aveeks' gazing, he found he made no advance, so he 
 contrived an introduction to Sir Thomas and Lady Montagu, 
 
 There he certainly was in the same room with the lovely face 
 which had so riveted his attention as to make him forget hunt- 
 ing, racing, and steeple-chasing, and all other sports so dear to 
 his heart. But he did not make much way. 
 
 In fact, being an experienced man of the world, having been 
 courted, flattered, spoiled, and made much of, he could not under- 
 stand the shy, sensitive heart, that belonged to the prettiest face 
 he had ever seen. 
 
 One evening, after devoting a whole hour to entertaining 
 Margaret with stories of his horses and dogs, and seeing, with 
 pleasure, how her shy eyes began furtively to glance up into his, 
 with evident interest ; how they rested for full ten seconds on his 
 face, giving him time to see how dark and soft they were, when 
 he told of his favorite horse's love for him ; how the half smile 
 was beginning to break into irrepressible dimples, and the rosy 
 lips to give glimpses of the little white teeth within, he was 
 wholly unprepared for the unrestrained look of delight with 
 which she sprang from this most interesting conversation to greet 
 her school-fellows. 
 
 They had been invited to tea that evening : and as the stately 
 Augusta swam into the seat Margaret had so willingly vacated, 
 he pished and pshawed himself into a vile humor, and determined 
 to be revenged. So he devoted himself entirely to Augusta ; and 
 when he glanced round now and then, to see if the lesson were
 
 12 MARGAKET 
 
 taking effect, his state of mind was not improved by discovering 
 that nobody seemed to be caring in tiie least how he and Augusta 
 were amusing themselves. 
 
 Lotty, Milly, Carry, and Flo., were all in high glee, and Mar- 
 garet the merriest among them ; but there was a glow on her 
 cheek, and a light in her eyes, which made Harold foncy that, 
 without knowing it, she was happy in his evident attentions. 
 
 jS'otwitlistanding, she did not seem the least affected by his 
 flirtation with Augusta. 
 
 lie overheard her telling them about his horse, and was sen- 
 sible of such a pleasurable emotion thereat, that he did not heed 
 Augusta in the very middle of a sentimental harangue, and her 
 evident discomposure became apparent to Carry and Flo., much 
 to the gratification of tliose two worthy young ladies. 
 
 As he went away, Margaret raised her fawn's eyes and said, 
 in a low, shy voice, — 
 
 " Will you ride that horse when you pass us again?" 
 
 " With great pleasure," he answered, in nearly as low a voice ; 
 but his heart bounded, and he was glad to rush out into the 
 street, and then away into tlie fields, under the broad moonlight, 
 to give some scope to his joy. 
 
 " To think, after having passed unscathed through all the 
 courts of Europe, that 1 sliould at last be caught by a simple 
 scliool-girl. Siie is so fresh, so shy, so natural ! wluit soft loving 
 glances she gives her father and mother ! she must be mine ! I 
 am too impatient to Avait longer. Besides, if I do not provide 
 myself with a decisive impediiuent, in the shape of a wife, 
 Augusta CUirc will marry me by force. Nevertheless, if I speak 
 to Margaret, I know 1 shall undo the work of the last six weeks ; 
 her sliy nature will prompt her to reject me at once. I will call 
 on Sir Thomas to-morrow, and state all my wishes and inliu- 
 tions ; and I will ask his consent to visit them constantly, with 
 the avowed intention of making myself acceptable to his sweet 
 daughter. I knew I was not mistaken the first time J saw her 
 walking ; such a lovely figure, such a perlcct walker, so light 
 and elegant, yet so firm and dignified ! I admired the walk for 
 a whol(! week before I saw the faee, and when she bc-conu'S 
 frank and oj)en with me, as she is with hur father and mother, 
 and when 1 am permitted to excite and join in the happy glad- 
 ness of her spirit, how like a sunbeam she will prove ! Ah ! 
 how she will brighten up our dull, stately home, where my 
 mother rules sit ])resent, with I'nidcnce and Propriety, as I call 
 my two sisters. And my mother, she must be pleased with her !
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 13 
 
 for who could resist sweet Margaret ? while Pru. and Pro. will 
 learn to look upon her as a stray star, wanderiag there solely to 
 enliven and shine upon them. I believe the dulness of home has 
 hitherto alarmed me with regard to matrimony, devoutly as my 
 mother has wished for such an event. I shall certainly speak to 
 Sir Thomas to-morrow. Her eyes are like brown velvet, and all 
 her movements the perfection of lady-like grace. Sweet Mar- 
 gaxet ! I could never be unhappy with you." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Harold ftilfiUed his over-night intentions. Now, it cannot 
 be denied that Sir Thomas and Lady Montagu were more 
 grieved than pleased at his communication, albeit that the 
 matter was so flattering to their Margaret. 
 
 " She is so young," pleaded the father. 
 
 " She is our only one," murmured the mother. 
 
 " We hoped to keep her always," said Sir Thomas. 
 
 " We cannot expect to live much longer," sighed Lady Mon- 
 tagu. 
 
 Harold was sensibly affected. Notwithstanding a very good 
 heart, he was unaccustomed to consult any other wishes than 
 his own ; and he did not see why, because they were so alive to 
 the merits of their Margaret, they should insist upon keeping 
 such a charming girl all to themselves. 
 
 " I grant she is very young," said Harold ; " but I dare say 
 it will be six months and more before she will permit me to be 
 sufficiently intimate to begin to make love, much less tell her so. 
 Though I have now seen her every day for six weeks, I have 
 never even shaken hands with her, and she never voluntarily 
 spoke to me until last night." 
 
 " True, very true," said Sir Thomas ; " our Margaret is very 
 shy." 
 
 " She is very timid, I know, in some things," said Lady Mon- 
 tagu. 
 
 " All I wish to do now, is to gain your perniission to try and 
 win her affections. Knowing how my feeling's were warming 
 toAvards her, I could not visit at your house without informing 
 you of my hopes and intentions," said Harold. 
 
 2
 
 14 , MARGARET 
 
 "Very honorable, iudeed, I must say," said Sir Thomas. 
 *' My dear Anne, Sir Harold is a man of honor." 
 
 " Indued he is, and wo ouirht to be ijratelul, I am sure," said 
 Lady Montagu, looking just the contrary. "■ lie comes of a very 
 good family, Sir Tliomas, I know, for your mother I remember 
 very well, Sir Harold ; she was lady-in-Avaiting to good Queen 
 Charlotte, and amid all the state and reserve of that court, she 
 ever bore the palm uf the most dignitied and discreet." 
 
 Harold bowed at this praise of his mother, while he mentally 
 said, " No wonder my mother is so stilT aud stately, and Leigh 
 Court so dull aud precise. If I succeed in gaining her alfections, 
 I do not see why you should not come and live near us," he con- 
 tinued, aloud. 
 
 •■' Dear, dear," said Lady IMontagu, "you arc too quick, you 
 anticipate too much, Sir Harold, ^largaret may not, perhaps, 
 like you," continued she, brightening up. 
 
 Harold smiled ; certainly a smile of self-satisfied import; nev- 
 ertheless, he replied, " Perhaps not." 
 
 " AVell, Avell," said Sir Thomas, " now let lis drop the sub- 
 ject, it makes me nervous and fretful. But you are an honor- 
 able young man. Sir Harold, and we ought to be obliged to you, 
 though we do not exactly feel so." 
 
 " Then I may visit the house, and try to win Miss Montagu's 
 heart, if I can? " said Harold. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so. I suppose we must not stand in her 
 light ; we must let her judge for herself, poor pet ; but I hope 
 you may think better of it. I truly hope you may see another 
 i'ace that you like better than our Margaret's." 
 
 So Sir Harold took his leave, none the less anxious to obtain 
 the dear Margaret from the dilliculty there seemed to be about it. 
 
 "jNIy dear Anne," said Sir Tliomas, after their visitor had 
 departed, " I will tell you what we will do. AN e must ask all 
 Margaret's prettiest school-fellows here ; you must find out all 
 tli(! Ijelles of Bath, and on the evenings that Sir Harold is here, 
 ■we will surround him with such pretty faces, that he will not see 
 our sunny Margaret, the liglit of our old age." 
 
 " A very good idea, Sir Thomas, and 1 will also renew my 
 acquaintance with Lady Kathcrine ; she may not, perhajjs, like 
 the eonnection ; our IMnrgaret maybe too simple and natural lor 
 such a grand lady, aud she may forbid llie marriage. 1 liavo 
 always heard that her son was very dudlul. and she, I know, 
 carries <hity. etiquette, and propriety to tlie extreme verge, aud 
 Las always kept her childreu in full order."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 15 
 
 " It seems to me, Aune, that we are becoming two selfish, 
 hypocritical people in oar old age ; but if we lose our Margaret, 
 I tliink our business in this world is well nigh over." 
 
 " I shall feel as if it were, I am sure," said Lady Montagu, 
 her tears falling; "nevertheless, we will bear everything, so 
 that sweet Meg is happy. We will hope that she lovesHier old 
 father and mother too fondly to wish to leave them SQ soon. I 
 will always ask that pretty Miss Clare here with her ; she seems 
 greatly taken with Sir Harold, and is, in manners ^aud appear- 
 ance, much more fitted for a great lady than our Margaret." 
 
 Sir Thomas and Lady Montagu were simple-minded, good, 
 kind people. They thought themselves very treacherous and 
 hypocritical, inviting all the prettiest girls in the neighborhood 
 to meet the wolf that had come to steal their lamb, and yet it 
 never occurred to tliem that they had a much surer way of keep- 
 ing their Margaret than the means they now employed. They 
 had but to say, or even do no more than imply, that they 
 hoped, while their little span of life lasted, that she would re- 
 main with them, and the Avarm, sensitive heart would have 
 responded instantly. All the lovers in Christendom, were they 
 handsomer than Adonis, and more amiable and devoted than the 
 knights of old, could not have obtained entrance to Margaret's 
 heart, with her parents' Avishes to guard the door. 
 
 But they had never allowed her to know hoAV necessary she 
 was to their happiness ; in their unselfish love, they had ever 
 placed her little pleasures and Avishes as completely separated 
 from theirs ; yet, at the same time, were so anxious that she 
 should enjoy them. Margaret, if she ever thought on the sub- 
 ject, might have imagined they considered her a grandchild 
 rather than a daughter. 
 
 Once or tAvice circumstances had so occurred as to make Mar- 
 garet think, " HoAV sorry mamma must be that I am so young, 
 and that I Avas not born about the same time as my other sis- 
 ters." She Avas so simple, modest, and humble, that it never 
 entered her innocent mind she Avas the cynosure of any circle, 
 and Avith such natures it is not difficult to belicA^e, that Avhen 
 once they are aware of the ftict, once they feel the value of their 
 love to another, death alone can extinguish the feeling thus 
 aAvakened, the grave only do away Avith these first impressions. 
 
 It Avas so with Margaret. By degrees she became aAvare that 
 she was an object of interest to another ; she, Avho thought it so 
 good of everybody to love her ; so kind of her father to let her 
 kneel by his chair, and play Avith his Avhite curls ; so good of
 
 16 MARGARET 
 
 J 
 
 Ker mother to allow her to fly over the house on all sorts of 
 
 messages. 
 
 At lirst, she conlided to her school-husband that it would be 
 very nice if Sir Harold was her brother, then he could call her 
 Margaret, without saying tiiat formal Miss Moutagu." 
 
 "And I suppose you would call him Harold ? "°said the little 
 fiery school-husband. 
 
 " Yes, of course," said Margaret ; " Harold, not Sir Harold ; 
 it sounds very nice, does it not, Lotty ? " 
 
 " No, it sounds very forward and Augustaish of you, and I 
 Avon't allow you to do it." 
 
 " O, no," said Margaret, "not for the world — how could 
 you think I would do it ? " 
 
 So thus it came to pass that the experienced man of the world 
 gained his end, against the simple, unworldly-wise old couple ; 
 and thus it came to pass that Margaret uttered the memorable 
 speech, half hidden by the school-room door ; and also thus it 
 happened. Miss Augusta Clare had a little method in her mad- 
 ness, wlieu she promulgated the fact that she intended to marry 
 Sir Harold lierself. She had met him quite as ollen as Mar- 
 garet, according to old Sir Thomas's base arrangement, and she 
 had talked to him a great deal more. 
 
 For whereas Margaret was very shy, retiring, and difficult of 
 access, Augusta took an ell for every one of Sii" Hax'old's inches, 
 and made the most of them. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 So Margaret accepted Sir Harold, imd the wodding-day was 
 fixed, slie all unknowing of the blank that now fell uu lier aged 
 parents' existence, while they, as heretofore, studiously concealed 
 from her anything but their warm interest in her happiness, and 
 seemed to take sticli a pride and delight in her trousseau, car- 
 riages, horses, and bridesmaids, tliut Margaret could only say to 
 herself, " Tiiey will be so liap])y together, now they have no wild 
 girl to trouble them ; and 1 hope my Harold and I may be like 
 them when we grow old." 
 
 Notliing could exceed the stately condescension with which 
 Lady Katheriue Leigh received her intended daughter-iu-luw j
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 17 
 
 and the pale Pru. absolutely kissed the bright girl with fervor, 
 while the meek, quiet Pro. became quite flushed and animated 
 on hearing they were to be bridesmaids. 
 
 Although of an antique age compared to Margaret, being 
 some years older even than their brother, Pru. and Pro. (whose 
 real names were Charlotte and Georgina, in reverential memory 
 of the Court, wherein Lady Katherine shone so conspicuously), 
 were still considered young girls by their courtly mamma. 
 
 They always walked behind her like two model maids of honor, 
 attendant oa a despotic sovereign ; they courtesied on leaving her 
 gracious presence, they asked permission to take the air, and 
 even to the color of their dresses and ribbons all was deferred 
 to their mother. Pru. had once indulged in a little flight of 
 emancipation, which led to the discovery that she had absolutely 
 been seen speaking, upon several occasions, to the curate. 
 
 Urged by incipient hn-e, Pru. feebly chirped forth that " he 
 was a very good young man." The sliade of Queen Charlotte 
 rose before the indignant mother, but history does not say how 
 Pru. was brought to reason. Doubtless the way was stringent, 
 for the cure was effectual ; Pru. and Pro. were never seen to 
 speak voluntarily after that to any man under eighty years of 
   age._ 
 
 Sir Harold was very generous. He presented each bridesmaid 
 with her dress complete, and a turquoise ring ; but Lotty was 
 firm in her determination not to be one of these favored mortals, 
 Avhich Florence and Caroline, with more candor than politeness, 
 told her was a very good thing, as there would have been an odd 
 bridesmaid ; now the numbers were even. 
 
 " I don't care how odd I am," said Lotty, taking the matter 
 literally. 
 
 Neither the policeman nor the postman having proposed, as 
 'Florence and Caroline maliciously liinted, Augusta was able to 
 officiate as bridesmaitl. Tlie two former were so far justified in 
 their unladylike remarks, that Augusta's cupidity, in the way of 
 admiration, made her swallow anything from anybody that fed 
 her vanity. She was a beautiful girl, very fair, with sunnv 
 hair flowing in thick curls over cheeks quite rivalling the peach 
 in bloom. A fine, tall figure, rounded in proportion, with the 
 utmost grace ; and a bewitching, sweet, taking manner, that 
 would beguile a weak man of liis heart at first sight. Her eyes 
 •were peculiarly beautiful, the lids so white and full : the eye- 
 lashes almost black, and the orbs themselves of a clear blue. 
 
 Sir Thomas and L;uly Montagu might well have hoped that a 
 2*
 
 18 MARGARET 
 
 being so gifted by Nature -would prove more attractive than 
 their simple, pretty Margaret. But a true man of the world 
 will only give his heart into Nature's keeping, lie laughs, talks, 
 sentimentalizes with girls like Augusta ; his heart he places 
 in the keeping of a loving, simple nature like Margaret's. 
 
 So the wedding-day came, and Lotty agreed she would take 
 care of Sir Thomas while the others were at church. 
 
 " He and 1 do not approve of the marriage," said Lotty Avith 
 dignity ; " though I allow Harold is not a bad fellow ; he has 
 promised me a son of Lucifer's, and he will be rising live about 
 the time I leave school, Avhich will be just the thing." 
 
 " Did one ever hear such language?" said Flo. to Carry, as 
 they arranged each other's dresses. 
 
 Lady Montagu would fain have remained at home with her 
 husband ; her heart felt ill at ease, and only her utter forgetful- 
 ness of self made her attempt the exertion. She could not but 
 think of the three daughters she had already seen married under 
 the happiest auspices, and now they were no more. "Was this 
 to be the fate of the youngest, most gifted, most beloved? 
 
 " God's will be done ! " she whispered to herself many times ; 
 and often she had to appeal to the same gracious help for strength 
 to support this day, without the loved object of her unseliish 
 afl'ectious perceiving on this, which ought to be the happiest day 
 of her life, the sorrow they were suffering. 
 
 Poor .Sir Thomas shook Avith suppressed emotion as the gentle, 
 fair girl knelt for his blessing, bel'ore proceeding to the church, 
 "while she felt — as what bride has not? — that it Avas agouy to 
 leave her childhood's home for an untried affection, a new 
 existence. 
 
 " If papa Avould but say, ' Stay, my child,' 1 could not, would 
 not leave him," said she to herself. 
 
 But the good old man fondly kissed her, and exerting himself 
 for her sake, that she might not see his grief and sorrow, he 
 feebly made an attempt at cheerfulness, saying, — 
 
 " My darling will be Lady Leigh when I again see her." 
 
 Lotty, with tearful eyes, did her best to (^iiei-r his spirits, as 
 the lair vision, white as marble, passed i'rom ids siglit. 
 
 " Sir Harold loves her very much, no doubt," said she, " though 
 no one can hne her as Ave do, can tliey, Sir Thomas?" 
 
 '' No ! no ! not as her fond old parents do." 
 
 " And I, Sir Thomas, too ! " said Lotty, Avith a little acrimony ; 
 " but thougli Sir Harold is a very good fellow, 1 wish Ave liad 
 not I'-l liei- marry so soon, because I know of a much better 
 match for her."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 19 
 
 " My dear what are you saying? " said the old man, who wag 
 beginning to think Lotty's mode of consohxtion none of the best. 
 
 " I think if Margaret had waited until Basil Erie had come 
 home, he would have asked her to marry him. I don't know 
 much about love-matters, but I am almost sure, when Ave were 
 all staying with you last holidays, Basil was falling into down- 
 right love with Margaret ; and you know what Basil is, such a 
 fellow ! " 
 
 " My dear boy ! " said Sir Thomas, " I believe, indeed, there 
 are few like him." 
 
 The old man, between gi'ief, the tears that blinded his eyes, 
 and Lotty's peculiar style of conversation, was becoming oblivious 
 of the sex of his companion. 
 
 Lotty flushed up, and then continued in a softer voice, — 
 
 " Basil is just as good a man as Millicent is a woman, they 
 are a worthy brother and sister ; and though I am very young, 
 Sir Thomas, not more than fifteen, I have seen a great deal of 
 life, and of men, and I never saw any one like Basil. I don't 
 like men in general, excepting the Beauvilliers ; I think them 
 
 stupid, egotistical fcl creatures I mean ; but if Margaret had 
 
 waited to marry Basil, then she would have lived all her life 
 close to you, and that Avould have been much better." 
 
 " Very, very true ; but I never heard that Basil wanted our 
 Margaret," said poor Sir Thomas. 
 
 " Well, he never did say so, more's the pity ; he might have 
 guessed before he Aveut abroad that every man who ever saw 
 Margaret would Avant to marry her. I am sure I should." 
 
 " And Avhy did you not say so, my dear? for if you had, then 
 perhaps you Avould not have minded living Avith us." 
 
 " No ! I should have liked it of all things : but I should not 
 have been good enough for Margaret ; only Basil is." 
 
 " But Avhen did he propose, my dear?" 
 
 " He never did. Sir Thomas, and that's the worst of it, and I 
 knoAV he Avill be dreadfully unhappy when he hears Margaret is 
 married. Perhaps he Avill kill himself, though I think he is too 
 sensible for that. But I Avill tell you how I knoAV. I love Mar- 
 garet better than any other Avoman in the world, I don't mind 
 telling you. Sir Thomas." 
 
 " She deserves it, my dear boy ! she deserA'es every one's 
 love." 
 
 Lotty Avinced again, and again modulated her voice to a lady- 
 like pitch. 
 
 " So, loving Margaret as I did, I soon saAv Avho loved her
 
 20 MARGARET 
 
 besides ; and I felt that my love was just a grain of sand to what 
 Basil could give, and I dare say lie would have told ^largaret, 
 but then she was a school-girl. Besides, you know what a bad 
 character his father bears, and what a wretch Lady Erlscourt 
 is, so I suppose he thought it wrong to take Margaret to such a 
 house as that." 
 
 " But they could have lived with us, my dear, and Basil is 
 such a good young man," sighed Sir Thomas. 
 
 " ' Good' does not express what he is," returned Lolty ; " but 
 it is too late now ; here they are all coming back from church." 
 
 '' Well, God's will be done ! I hope we have acted for the 
 best," said Sir Thomas. 
 
 " We might have done better, I think," replied the sorry little 
 comforter. 
 
 '• What will Anne say ! she is so fond of those two, Basil and 
 Millicent ; I doubt we have been too hasty, Margaret was too 
 young, yes, too youug to marry. I thought that, Anne. Anne, 
 we were too hasty. Dear me, dear me ! " And the poor old 
 man sobbed aloud. 
 
 "■ For goodness' sake, don't do that ! " exclaimed the alarmed 
 Lotty, " tliey Avill think I have been beating you. And here is 
 Lady Montagu being carried in as if she had fainted." 
 
 Startle(l out of his grief, Sir Thomas hurried out to meet the 
 poor mother, and being both utterly unable to coutrol their feel- 
 ings longer, they fell sobbing into each others' arms. 
 
 Alarmed at this unwonted display, Margaret flew to them from 
 her husband's arm. 
 
 " O mauima ! papa ! O mamma ! papa ! " was all she could 
 say at lirst. 
 
 '' I will not leave you. I cannot go. My own dear father 
 and mother, Itid your Margaret stay ever witii you." 
 
 " O, hush, dear Meg," whispered Milly ; " remember the 
 vows you have just pronounced." 
 
 " But papa ! inauiuia ! my kinil loving j)arents. Can tliis 
 grief be for me? is it my h)ss they mouiii thus? O Milly, I 
 must not, cannot leave tlieni." 
 
 " Hcnicinlicr, dearest, tlicv may be overcome with the ri'col- 
 lectiou of your sisters. See, Harold wonders at you. Let ihiiu 
 grieve a little. Leave them to themselves, for none know what 
 their loving hearts liave sufl'ered." 
 
 Lottv and Millicent led the aHlicled parents into another room, 
 while Harold drew Miirgaret aside, and wliispeied fond, endear- 
 ing words to her, saying that now she was his, her word should
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 21 
 
 be his law ; and if she -wished to stay with her parents, she 
 should ; she had only to name her wishes and he would consent. 
 
 Margaret raised the seldom-seen eyes to his face. In the one 
 short glance he read the world of love she could bestow. The 
 sensitive maiden heart opened to let the wife's devotion enter, 
 and Harold knew that the grave alone could extinguish the love 
 expressed in that glance. Proud and elated, he continued, as he 
 folded her in his arms, " God forbid, my sweet wife, that my 
 first act as a husband should be to take you from your parents : 
 go, settle with them what you like ; what pleases you will do 
 the same by me." 
 
 But the constant habits of forbeai-ance which they practised, 
 shortly came to the aid of the fond father and mother. 
 
 Margaret was permitted to think that a tide of old recollec- 
 tions had overcome them, though she could not avoid seeing the 
 extent to Avhich they mourned for her. 
 
 It was agreed, that instead of going abroad, the bride and 
 bridegi'oom should return in a short time to the old hall of her 
 father, " Montagu House," and in looking forward to this 
 speedy reunion, they were enabled to bid their darling " God 
 speed : " while she left them in some degree comforted, more 
 than all recollecting the kind and loving way in which her Harold 
 had come forward, when he might have resented her first con- 
 jugal act. In her heart of hearts she promised him her life's 
 devotions. "We must trace her through it, and in the mean time 
 wonder if, like Lotty, we shall say at the close of it, — 
 
 " Margaret was very foolish not to wait for Basil." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I THTNTK we ought to leam who " Basil " and " Millicent " are. 
 
 On the borders of the New Forest in Hampshu-e rose the 
 stately towers of Lord Erlscourt's castle. 
 
 The family were neither old nor particularly wealthy, so that 
 the present lord did not disdain the appointment of Ranger of 
 the Forest. He had married, early in life, a very beautiful and 
 amiable woman of high rank and some wealth. During her life- 
 time the family were much loved and respected, and the embar- 
 rassed estates (left so by the present lord's predecessor) , under
 
 22 MARGARET 
 
 her juflicious sway were becoming free anfl unonenmbcred. 
 Unfortunatelv for lior luisbaiul and the estates, still more for 
 her children, she died from the effects of a low, linirering fever, 
 that often hangs about a densely wooded country. Either soured 
 by her loss, or losing that restraint which her fine and noble 
 cliaracter intuitively put upon one very much the reverse, Lord 
 Erlscourt became a very different man. 
 
 He grew careless and indifferent about his habits and appear- 
 ance. He became mixed up with a number of vcrv <|ucsti()nable 
 characters, and report was rife M'ith tales of his midnigiit doings ; 
 when, instead of putting down the hiAvless poaching and glaring 
 thefts of wood, he was described as head poacher and principal 
 thief. 
 
 He consummated the ruin of his character as a gentleman and 
 an honorable man, by marrying a handsome but vidgar girl, 
 niece to one of his imder officers, whose former life could by no 
 means bear an inspection. 
 
 Elated by her unexpected rise in life, the new Lady Erlscourt 
 added, to other disagreeable qualities, so much vanity and over- 
 weening pride, as to disgust even those of her own grade. 
 With the low A-ulgarity of a small mind, and the vindictiveness 
 of a very base one, she poured upon the heads of her unfortunate 
 step-children so much mean and petty persecution, that Basil, 
 the boy, ran a'way. 
 
 He was then about ten years old, and his little heart beat and 
 swelled with indignation at the treatment both he and his gentle 
 sister had borne ; the l)itter wrong caused him to reason and 
 think with premature wisdom. 
 
 " I am very strong for my age," said the little fellow to him- 
 self, " and I know the wood paths in every direction. 1 shall 
 go to-night as far as the hollow fiak, and in the morning 1 will 
 strike up to the left, and if 1 run as well as walk, 1 shall be at 
 Montagu House by ten o'clock. I will tell Sir Thoniiis what 
 we have to endure. I shall ask him to send for INlilly. 1 shall 
 refuse ever to return to my father's house unless she is released ; 
 then, if they will not let lier come, I shall ask Sir Thomas to 
 take me before a magistrate, and I will swear, swear sok-nmly 
 by that great Gnd who has made our own mother an angel in 
 heaven, that we arc starved, be.aten, .nu! ill treated, and Sir 
 Thduias must write to griin(li)M[)a." 
 
 Thus soliloquizing, the little fellow ran with unabated energy 
 and spee<l towanls his intended rosting-plaee. He felt no fi'iir at 
 passing the long night in the dark Avoods. He remembered
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 23 
 
 notliing but his little sister's cries of agony at her step-mother's 
 harsh treatment, and when he reached the old oak tree, he knelt 
 upon the rustling bed of leaves at the foot, and prayed the Lord 
 God of heaven to assist him in his designs, and whispered to 
 himself, as he climbed up into his resting-place, " My dear angel 
 mother will watch me while I sleep." 
 
 And he slept the sound sleep of the innocent ; nevertheless the 
 important step he was about to take seemed to move him in his 
 sleep, for he awoke at the first faint streak of light that came 
 stealing through the trees. Hastily descending (for he seemed 
 to know intuitively that Lady Ei'lscourt would never let him 
 escape, and that the knowledge of his flight would only make her 
 the more determined to get him again into her power) , he lost 
 no time in pursuing his way. Every nerve braced by the fear 
 of being captured, every instinct startled by the danger into 
 forethought and judgment, with very few mistakes, the little fel- 
 low at last saw Montagu House before him. 
 
 Faint and exhausted, he made one last effort, and as he did 
 so, he heard in the woods he had just left, the cracking of whips 
 and shouting of men, which thrilled him with the knowledge 
 that the pursuers Avere on his track. 
 
 The large window of the breakfast-room at Montagu House 
 was wide open, and as Basil approached, he saw it was full of 
 people. 
 
 " I am unable to say a word, I am so ill and faint, and 
 those people will be here ere I can tell all, and I shall be taken 
 back. O ! mother, mother, Avhy did you die and leave your 
 poor children ! " 
 
 At this moment he saw, not ten yards from him, a little girl, 
 who was gazing at him with unbounded amazement. Basil 
 sprang forward, and grasped her dress. 
 
 " Do you hear those people in the wood?" he gasped breath- 
 lessly. " And that noise? they are looking for me." 
 
 " Why do you run from them? " she answered. 
 
 "Because they beat and ill-used me, and I have run this 
 morning many miles to tell Sir Thomas Montagu ; but I am 
 so tired and faint — they will be here before I can do so — will 
 you hide me until they go ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the little girl, " come with me." 
 
 They ran together down a gravel walk which led to a con- 
 servatory, from thence a narrow staircase wound up to the 
 highest story of the old-fashioned Elizabethan house. 
 
 Holding his hand fast, she darted into a large sort of empty 
 lumber-room, and bidding him lock himself in, said, —
 
 24 MARGARET 
 
 " I shall get you some milk." 
 
 " She ran down stairs again, locking the last door as "well as 
 she could, and entered the large open window just as the caval- 
 cade of horsemen appeared upon the lawn. 
 
 There was no mistaking ISir Thomas Montagu's utter i^no- 
 rance as to any fugitive having heen seen near his house ; be- 
 sides, it was ahuost incredible that a boy of such tender a"-c 
 could have travelled so far without food or help. So that the 
 party prepared to depart just as the little girl had collected her 
 portion of breakfast, and was asking permission to eat it out of 
 doors. This being granted, she but Availed to see them fairly 
 away, ere she tripped up first with a cup of milk. 
 
 Her prisoner had not locked the door, he was lying in a deep, 
 exhausted faint on the floor. 
 
 " Mamma ! mamma ! " said the little fairy thing, as she flew 
 down the house stairs ; " come with me, I want you." 
 
 Her mother could not resist the earnest appeal. 
 
 " Don't tell papa yet, pray don't. I promised I Avould not, it 
 is such a secret ! Dear mamma ! you must wait until he is well, 
 that he may tell you everything himself." 
 
 In much amazement Lady Montagu listened to the talk of her 
 little girl, and fairly cried out when she saw the beautiful, pale 
 face of an apparently dead boy. Comprehending in a moment 
 •what her little girl only half understood, she lifted up the worn- 
 out frame, and carrying it tenderly into her own room, she laid 
 it on a bed. Then the fleet-footed little maiden ran hither and 
 thither, according to her mother's directions, for restoratives, 
 her excitement rendered double by the fact tluit it was her 
 secret and hers only. She was standing eagerly watching her 
 mother's face as she bathed the broad, fair brow, and poured 
 the tiny restorative drops between the colorless lips. 
 
 A sigh, a shiver through the limbs. The large, beautiful 
 eyes oj)ened for a moment, and gazed on the kind face bending 
 over him. 
 
 " ^lother," he faintly said and smiled, and seemed to die 
 away again. 
 
 But Lady Montagu redoubled her efforts, and again conscious- 
 ness seemed to be restored. The eyes opened and looked in- 
 f|uiringly, first on her, and then fell on the little girl ; a color 
 fluslicd his face, he tried to stretch out his hand, itwt was too 
 weak. IJiit the lips opened, and with a smile of ineffable sweet- 
 ness he half whispered, '" Basil thanks you." And this was the 
 first meeting of Margaret and Basil.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 25 
 
 It is needless to say that as soon as Basil could tell his tale, 
 Sir Thomas was quite ready to listen to it ; and acted with so 
 much judgment and discretion in the matter, that no alternative 
 remained to the weak and reprehensible father but to yield up 
 his children to their grandfather's care and protection. The con- 
 duct of Lady Erlscourt was so well known and notorious, that 
 they were glad to hush the matter up any how. 
 
 And thus it fell out that the two poor, ill-used children came 
 to have an honored and happy home, and received the education 
 their rare and fine qualities deserved. And fortunately this time 
 continued uatil Basil was nineteen, just two years before Mar- 
 garet's marriage. 
 
 At that time their grandfather died, and then came a check- 
 ered and trying season, which served to prove that the spirit 
 of the mother had fallen on the children, and that they were 
 meant to bear the bui'dens of life with the lofty, firm faith of 
 Christians. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LOTTT, or rather Charlotte Beauvilliers, must not be passed 
 cursorily over, as if a thing as small in importance as she was 
 in person. Margaret's little school-husband was born of a pecu- 
 liar people, and in a peculiar manner, as befits a heroine. 
 
 The Beauvilliers were a race of strong, sturdy Britons ; true 
 hearts of oak dwelt in their fine, athletic frames ; and as is often 
 the case, vmder gigantic proportions simple and kind hearts are 
 to be found, so it was with them. Fearless, guileless, frank, 
 and ingenuous, no one ever heard that a Beauvilliers did an 
 action of which he was ashamed. Perhaps no great intellect 
 was to be found among them, but warm-hearted, generous 
 deeds followed their steps. And for no virtue were they more 
 conspicuous than for family love. Brothers dwelt side by side, 
 and seemed to love each other more, the closer they lived to- 
 gether. Large families were brought up in love and amity ; 
 none ever heard a Beauvilliers use a harsh word or say an 
 unkind thing. A jovial, hilarious, vigorous race, they bound 
 themselves to the country and soil, eschewing towns and profes- 
 sions, as something of another sphere than theirs. 
 
 Those who were rich enough, hunted, shot, and fished ; those 
 3
 
 26 MARGARET 
 
 who were not, farmed, dug, delved, and planted ; none "were ab- 
 solutely poor, and none were more than commonly rich. Tliey 
 had uo exjjonsive Avants, but "vvere generally remarkable for their 
 simple tastes. 
 
 One other peculiarity existed in the race of Beauvilliers, the 
 preponderance of males in the family ; a girl was now and then 
 born, but they were so scarce, that they we)"e considered as sorts 
 of natural curiosities, and treated accordingly. 
 
 About fifty years before our story commences, one Beauvil- 
 liers, larger, taller, stronger than the rest, with an extra portion 
 of bonhommie and kiuduci^s, had been made, through these gilts, 
 a sort of head of the family ; he rejoiced in six sons. ^Vhcu he 
 died, the eldest of these was worthily appointed to fill his place, 
 being the true scion of his fine, old, jovial father ; and he had 
 six sons, all true Bcauvillians. The youngest of these, at the 
 age of eight years, was found thrashing a boy twice his size, for 
 ill-treating a little girl ; and he was brought into the parlor, 
 flushed Avith excitement, and covered with blood and glory. 
 
 " Really," said his mother, " I think it is full time Norman 
 went to school." 
 
 " He is our youngest, Belle," said the father. " Let us keep 
 him with us a little longer, to Avarm our old hearts ; Ave might 
 get rusty and cold, Avifc, with no boys to trouble us." 
 
 " I have some idea he Avill not be the youngest long," said 
 Mrs. Beauvilliers, Avith a rising flush on her cheeks. 
 
 " AVhat noAv, Belle! more boys coming?" exclaimed the 
 jovial father. " That's cajjital I 1 never heard better news in 
 my life ; Avhat Avill Ned, AVill, and Charlie say? Scacu boys! 
 Avhy, I shall outdo my father. I always tliought there never 
 was a Avoman in this Avorld like you. Belle, and I think so to 
 this minute. Odds me ! but I must Avrite the news ofl', and 
 invite theni all to the christening." 
 
 "No, no, my dear husband, have compassion on me ; remem- 
 ber, 'there is many a slip between the cup and tlie lip,' and 
 don't set a christi-nin^- dinner ready till v<>u have a child to 
 christen. Pray think how long it is since such an event occurred 
 here, and that I am very nearly as much surprised as you are." 
 
 ]\Irs. Beauvilliers Avas a clever, talented Avonnui ; she had just 
 the sort of calm, excellent good sense, Avhich it Avas desirable to 
 graft on the stock of the kind-hearted, though somewhat heed- 
 less, Bcauvillians. Tiiroughout the whole clan she reigned pre- 
 eminent in Avoilh and talents, and received a sort of feudal 
 adoration from tJie simple-hearted race.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 27 
 
 Ml'. Beauvilliers could not forbear letting out the secret of 
 his expected blessing, to all his brothers, each in strict confi- 
 dence ; and, therefore, they were all prepared with rounds of 
 congratulations and hearty good wishes on the happy advent. 
 
 But all the five uncles, all the six little expectant bi'Others, all 
 the cousins, nephews, kinsmen of every degree, were thrown 
 into a state of profound amazement. 
 
 The expected seventh boy proved a little, small girl ! 
 
 As soon as they had recovered from the astounding fact, 
 a reirular commotion ensued among the clan of Beauvilliers. 
 No two remained long in the same place ; they hunted each 
 other up far and near, merely to shake hands, and say, " We 
 have got a girl ! " 
 
 The fine old family mansion of Beau-court, where the won- 
 derful event occurred, was besieged with every Beauvilliers that 
 had ever been heard of: only to see the happy father, shake 
 hands, and mutually say, " We have got a girl ! " 
 
 At the christening (the like of which never had been seen 
 before), the girl was handed round, as Newman Noggs hath it, 
 "as if it were something to eat." Perhaps a pervading feeUng 
 of disappointment might have gone tlu'ough the company, on 
 perceiving that the baby girl was not at all unlike what some of 
 the baby boys had been. " But smaller, O, yes ! decidedly 
 smaller," as some said, with confident satisfaction. Upon the 
 whole, the affair went oil admirably. When the girl was handed 
 from one to another, it gazed from face to face with wise little 
 eyes, which made everybody declare that the girl was the most 
 sensible child that had ever been born. 
 
 When the holy water was dashed in its face, rather violently 
 (as it was then beginning to be thought the proper thing to do), 
 the girl neither started nor winced, but opened her eyes, and 
 fixed them with a sort of questioning wonder on the clergyman. 
 Whereupon everybody thought, ''The girl is a true Beauvilliers, 
 and does not know what fear is." 
 
 The amount of presents which it was esteemed necessary 
 to bestow upon the girl, made her a little heiress on the 
 spot. 
 
 She might have set up a shop of corals and bells only ; she 
 might have turned silversmith and dealt in silver mugs, tiny 
 knives and forks, in red morocco and every other sort of case ; 
 she might have opened an account with her bankers, and put 
 out her money at interest ; she might have been smothered be- 
 neath the weight of gold chains and coral necklaces.
 
 28 MARGARET 
 
 As for her nnrse, she was looked upon as a pemliar person 
 of the angel species, and came in for her share of presents, until 
 she bent under the accumulation of gowns, shawls, and new 
 guineas. 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 It became a sort of custom among the nearer relatives 
 to make periodical journeys to Beau-court, to see how the girl 
 was getting on ; and as no one ever came empty-handed, her 
 possessions were becoming vast. 
 
 As she grew older, the sort of notice and homage she received 
 might have proved very injurious ; but she had one Beauvillian 
 peculiarity, an adoration of her mother. 
 
 Her word was law, her look a command ; and being so 
 talented and clever, the little girl reaped all the benefit of such 
 an affection. Mrs. Beauvilliers became aware that her dauchler 
 was of a very peculiar character ; and while she wondered how 
 such a disposition would make its way in the Avorld, she could 
 not but admire the learless, independent spirit, the extreme 
 truthfulness of her words and actions ; Lotty's word might be 
 relied on as certainly as the sun travels from east to west. 
 
 Of course it must l)e allowed that her education was of a more 
 manly description tliau befits a young lady. Kach brother was 
 anxious to impart some of his knowledge in the bold sports of 
 the Beauvillians ; each uncle inquired diligently alter her 
 progress in riding, leaping, and jumping ; nevertheless they 
 looked with reverence and delight upon all Mrs. Beauvilliers' 
 feminine accomplishments ; and when Lotty, escorted by her six 
 brothers, brouirlit down, on her father's birthday, a silk jiockel- 
 handkerehief hemmed by herself, the sensation it caused was 
 wonderful. 
 
 "Here, papa, is my present ; I hemmed it myself; mamma 
 says it is pretty well done, and 1 have only been three weeks to- 
 morrow doing it." 
 
 "Yes, papa, this is our Lotty's hemmimj." said one brother. 
 
 "Only throe weeks to-morrow doing it," continued another. 
 
 "Look well at if, papa," exclaimed a third. 
 
 " Mamma says it's well done." said the fourth. 
 
 " No, only pretty well ! " said the matter-of-fact Lotty.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 29 
 
 Papa looked at it with an admiration and delight that quite 
 satisfied the six brothers ; then the handkerchief was put away, 
 but upon the arrival of any fresh Beauvilliers, it was brought 
 out, shown, and admired, and that Beauvilliers went away, and 
 to the next Beauvilliers he met he told the news. 
 
 " Our girl has hemmed a handkerchief in three weeks, all but 
 a day, and it is pretty well done." 
 
 Whereupon that Beauvilliers went to see it, until the Avhole 
 clan had been favored with a view thereof. 
 
 Much to the detriment of the beloved little girl, after a short 
 illness, Mrs. Beauvilliers died, just when her daughter was of 
 the age when she would most want her cares and attention. 
 
 As she felt her end drawing near, she called for the little idol- 
 ized being, now about twelve years old. Generally calm and 
 self-possessed in a remarkable degree, Lotty was taken to her 
 mother, convulsed with grief. 
 
 " Take me with you, mother ! take me with you ! " she 
 rather screamed out than said. But that soft, low voice calmed 
 her in a moment. 
 
 '' God sees fit to separate us, my child ; murmur not, but 
 rather strive to obey his will, that we may meet again. Now, 
 my Lotty, listen to your mother's last words ; they need be but 
 few to you, thank God : ' Know your duty, and do it.' " 
 
 " I will try, mamma ; I promise." 
 
 " Then that is enough ; and now remember, papa suffers 
 a greater loss than you do. You must, instead of grieving, com- 
 fort him. That is your preseat duty." 
 
 " I will, mamma." 
 
 " I shall wish you to go to school, Lotty." 
 
 " O mamma ! " 
 
 " I wish it, Lotty." 
 
 " I shall go, mamma." 
 
 "Youwdllnot forget, my child, that you are a woman — a 
 lady. As the men of the Beauvilliers' race are strong and 
 manly, so must the women show themselves gentle and femi- 
 nine." 
 
 " I will try, mamma." 
 
 But the child's heart was older in its affections, deeper and 
 stronger in its love, than even her mother knew. 
 
 A cold dew covered her, the room and the dying mother faded 
 from her sight, her dark eyes, remarkable for their brilliant 
 beauty, grew dull, and closed. 
 
 " I die with mamma," she thought, happily, kissing her pas- 
 3*
 
 30 MARGARET 
 
 sionately. The poor mother collected her remaining strength to 
 fold the little senseless form in her fond embrace, and long be- 
 fore the broken-hearted Lotty recovered from her swoon, her 
 mother's spirit was in heaven. 
 
 chaptp:r viii. 
 
 Six months after this event, Lotty and her father were out on 
 their daily ride. 
 
 It was the habit of the little girl on these occasions (though 
 usually silent) to say, if she saAv her father's head drooping with 
 sorrowful recollections, or the tears gathering in his eyes, " Papa, 
 do you tliink I can manage that hedge?" If he said, "Yes, 
 Lotty," the spirited little rider, with her faultless pony, got over 
 it somehow. 
 
 And in admiring his child's courage and skill, poor Mr. Beau- 
 villicrs would rouse himself for a little while. 
 
 A\'lien tlie head again drooped, again the little voice was heard, 
 " Papa, in that meadow we can have a good gallop, with the 
 brook to jump at the bottom." 
 
 So papa aud the fearless little daughter proceeded to perform 
 the feat, to the entire satisfaction of both. 
 
 It was thus that. Lotty strove to remember her mothei''s last 
 words, and fulfil her present duty. But, on this particular day, 
 her voice was low aud trembling, and she said, seeing her father 
 more cheerful than usual. — 
 
 " Papa, I am to go to school." 
 
 Poor, little, magnanimous Lotty ! School was to her, in imagi- 
 nation, the fearful gaol that the thief sees always before him, or 
 the distant, banished laud which the convict would almost prefer 
 death to lieliolding. 
 
 ''Ah ! my Lotty, arc you tired of your fond father?" 
 
 " No ! " said Lottv, with energy. 
 
 So they trotted, side by side, for a mile or two, meeting now 
 and then an admiring kinsman, who, briefly saluting the alllicled 
 pair, woidd yet turn round and watch them with loving eyes, as 
 long as they were in sight. 
 
 ''Papa," said Lotty, " can T go to a school so near you that I 
 may ride over to see you every day ? "
 
 AND HEE BRIDESMAIDS. 81 
 
 " Ride, my pet ! I never yet heard of a school where they al- 
 lowed a girl to keep her pony," returned her father. 
 
 Such an appalling fact sent the blood straight from Lotty's face 
 to her heart. That going to school should be a bar to riding, 
 and cause a total separation between herself and those she most 
 loved, well nigh overcame every restraint she had put upon her- 
 self, almost breaking open all those hidden sluices of grief that 
 she had so carefully concealed from her father. 
 
 She was so absoi'bed that she did not perceive that her father 
 was in nearly the same state as herself. 
 
 Giving her little spirited pony a touch of the whip, he reared, 
 plunged, and kicked, causing Mr. Beauvilliers such alarm lest 
 he should unseat his rider, that Lotty saw the fit of grief had 
 passed by. 
 
 So she patted Midge on the neck, spoke to and coaxed him ; 
 but the little indignant fellow was not to be soothed in that way, 
 after such unmerited treatment, and gave his little mistress and 
 her father ample trouble before they finished their ride. 
 
 " I cannot think why he behaved in this way," said Mr. Beau- 
 villiers, uneasily, scanning him over with his eyes. 
 
 " Papa, I touched him with the whip." 
 
 " How came you to do that, my Lotty ; do you not know he 
 will not bear it ? " 
 
 "Yes, papa, I did it on purpose, because — because you 
 know I must go to school " — and the little voice laltered. 
 
 " I know it, I know it, my child. Well, we will consult your 
 uncles and brothers." 
 
 . It is needless to say that all the Beauvilliers were consulted, 
 and the matter ended in its being decided that Lotty should go 
 to a school in Bath. 
 
 All the Beauvilliers that had a right, from near relationship, 
 went to see the school, the governess, Lotty's future playmates, 
 even her private individual bed. All the Beauvilliers that had 
 not this privilege rode into Bath to look at the house outside. 
 
 Being a very clever, sensible woman. Miss Elton was rather 
 amused than annoyed at these proceedings, and was a prey to a 
 vast amount of curiosity to see the object of so much affection. 
 
 She imparted her feelings to Millicent Erie, her eldest pupil, 
 and besought her kind a-id to assist in reconciling, what she sup- 
 posed would be, a spoiled darling to the trammels of school. 
 
 In compassion to the aged and apparently heart-broken father, 
 Miss Elton had agreed that every Saturday Lotty was to go to 
 Beau-court, see her father, and return to school on Monday.
 
 32 MARGARET 
 
 "But how will she travel, sir? Beau-court must be twenty 
 miles iVoui here," said Miss Elton. 
 
 " She will ride," replied 3Ir. Beauvilliers. 
 
 " Ride ! " exclaimed :\Iiss Elton. - that child ! " 
 
 " Yes," returned Mr. Beauvilliers, " she is used to it. I will 
 send her pony and servant every Friday evening to the inn 
 close by." 
 
 Miss Elton half repented accepting the charge of such a child, 
 especially when, hearing tlie noise of a grt-at cavalcade in the 
 street, she looked out to see what was the matter, and with 
 amazement beheld the equestrians stop])ing at her door. Ac- 
 companied by four brothers and tliree uncles was Lotty, a little, 
 diminutive girl, on a spirited black pony, that did not seem a 
 whit the less wicked though it had come twenty miles. 
 
 Her father had been too much overcome to bring her himself; 
 so, to keep up her spirits, a large concourse of ailecticmate Beau- 
 villiers had assembled to escort her on her way. Before reaching 
 Bath, they had thought it prudent and proper to sutler her to go 
 through the town with only a limited number, which was fortu- 
 nate for ]Miss Elton. She little knew that about a dozen more 
 Beauvilliers were sorrowfully wending their way home, after 
 taking leave of their girl. 
 
 The four brothers and the three uncles were all kindly invited 
 in. 
 
 " No, we thank you heartily. If we do, we shall never be 
 able to leave her, so take her out of our sight as soon as may be." 
 
 Passionately kissing Norman, her youngest and favorite 
 brother, who had leaped down to take her off her pony, Lotty 
 ran info the house and disappeared from the sight of the loving 
 Beauvilliers. 
 
 When they overtook the others, many were the anxious ques- 
 tions, '• IL^w she looked?" ''What she said?" and " Did she 
 bear the jjurting well?" They shook their heads mournfully at 
 every fresh detail, and then they all disputed Avho was to lead 
 Midge home. 
 
 " I, and I only." said Norman, " so catch us if you can." 
 
 And with an inspiriting view-halloo, avsay he went over hill 
 and dale, and led the Beauvilliers such a chase, that they had 
 no time for iu)y dismals, but arrived at Beau-court in such ele- 
 vated spirits, with so nmcli to tell of the exciting gallop, that 
 Mr. Beauvilliers was quite enlivened thereby.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 33 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Miss Elton had amused herself in picturing to her mind what 
 her new pupil would be like, and this was the ideal she formed. 
 
 A ruddy-faced chubby girl of substantial form, and Beau- 
 villian stature, sweet-tempere''d, or she would not be so loved ; 
 somewhat spoiled or she would not have been spared to school. A 
 tritie hoidenish, or the stress laid upon feminine associates would 
 not have been so urgent. 
 
 She saw before her a little fair girl, looking quite a child in 
 her riding gear. As she removed her hat she displayed eyes 
 that amazed Miss Elton Avith their size and brilliancy, and before 
 she could recover her astonishment, the little thing gathered up 
 her habit, and passing her fingers through her thick, short curls, 
 she swept them off her forehead, and approaching Miss Elton, 
 said in a low, soft voice, — 
 
 " Madam, you must try to love me, that you may teach me 
 well, because I wish to return soon to my father." 
 
 " I shall be certain to love you," said Miss Elton, irresistibly, 
 as it were. 
 
 " I hope you will be certain, madam ; how soon do the 
 quickest and cleverest girls leave school ? " 
 
 " At seventeen, I think," said Miss Elton, who saw at a 
 glance how matter-of-fact her neAv pupil was. 
 
 " I shall try to learn everything you wish me by the time I 
 am sixteen. May I begin now ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear, but you must change your dress first. Your boxes 
 came yesterday by the wagon, and everything is ready for you. 
 
 " When I am dressed, madam, where shall I find you?" 
 
 " I will send Millicent Erie for you." 
 
 " Is she one of my school-fellows ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Will she be kind to me ? " 
 
 " She is kind to every one." 
 
 " Then, madam, I shall be ready to come down with her in 
 half an hour." 
 
 " Will you have no one to help you ? " 
 
 " O, no, madam ; papa would be ashamed of his little girl if 
 she could not do evervthiusr for herself." 
 
 Lotty lifted up her large eyes to Miss Elton's face with a
 
 34 MARGARET 
 
 serious, searching look. She seemed satisfied with her scrutiny, 
 and was turning away, when Miss Ehon stooped down and 
 kissed her. A smile came over the child's face like a sunbeam. 
 
 " Thank you, madam," she said, and retired. 
 
 Miss Elton was charmed, and during the half-hour she had to 
 wait for Lotty's reappearance, Avas solely occupied in thinking of 
 her. 
 
 " "What intellect in that broad brow and intelligent eves ! 
 What firmness expressed in the mouth and chin ! She will be an 
 extraordinary woman." 
 
 Millici-nt went for her at the time appointed ; and Avhen she 
 reappeared Avith the new pupil, about whom something avou- 
 derful had been promulgated, all eyes Avcre turned upon her. 
 Lotty's little black frock set otf her fair skin to great advantage. 
 Her rebellious curls had been vehemently brushed into some 
 order, but Avere breaking bounds all over her head, threatening 
 to be in Avild confusion shortly. Her figure Avas round and 
 plump, as a child's should be, Avithout being fat ; her features 
 Avere pretty and piquant, Avhile her eyes Avere glorious. Alto- 
 gether, Lotty's appearance created a buzz of satisfaction and 
 admiration. She Avalked straight up to Miss Elton, and in a 
 confiding, childish Avay, leaned her head against her, to the 
 manifest astonishment of sundry girls, Avho had an awe of Miss 
 Elton, profound and deep, according to their various misdemean- 
 ors. Miss Elton Avas surprised by the quickness of her new 
 jnipil : Lotty imbibed knowledge like the air she breathed. At 
 five, after Avorking hard, Miss Elton said, — 
 
 " Now you must go and play, for it is Avrong to Avork Avithout 
 relaxation." 
 
 For a moment Lotty looked troubled ; then obeying Miss 
 Elton's look, she took Millicent's arm, and left the room Avith the 
 other girls. 
 
 She stood aloof from them all, Avatching in silent Avonder their 
 games, their bickerings, their altercations. 
 
 One girl had fallen and cut herself, the others passed heedlessly 
 on. At that moment a swift foot Avas heard ; a lovely rosy girl 
 sprang forward and raised her Avith gentle Avords. "■ Margaret ! 
 Margaret ! " Avas uttered joyfully by every one. '' Margaret ! 
 dear Margaret ! " 
 
 "How are you all?" said Margaret ; "I am so glad to see 
 you ! J^ook, this is for you, and you," she continued, dispensing 
 pack(!ls of sugar-j)lums. "And who are you?" she added, run- 
 ning up to Lotty Avilh auch a sweet gloAving face, that she Avas 
 quite amazed.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 35 
 
 " I am Charlotte Beauvilliers." 
 
 " And I am Margaret Montagu ; and you must take this kiss, 
 because I brought you no packet. I did not know you were here." 
 
 '' I like the kiss best," said the truthful Lotty ; "will you love 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes, dearly." 
 
 So thus began that famous friendship. 
 
 In time, Lotty grew just what her mother meant school should 
 make her — a happy, romping school-girl, full of life, health, 
 and spirits. Her head and heart were not yet fitted for hard 
 trials ; she would have done her duty, but probably sunk under 
 the weight of too much responsibility. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 But we have foi'gotten the bride and bridesrroom. 
 
 They enjoyed their tour very much. Margaret saw more of 
 the world in that fortnight than she had done in her whole life, 
 and Harold (who, to tell the truth, was a little bit blase) derived 
 infinite amusement from her unsophisticated happiness and 
 delight. There was something so new, fresh, and original to 
 him in all she did, that he thought he never should be tired of 
 such a companion. To be sure, she was more girlish and simjjle 
 than he had imagined, but that was all the more delightful, at 
 least, so it seeined at present. 
 
 In the mean time, a very different scene was acting at Mon- 
 tagu House. Millicent and Lotty had accompanied Sir Thomas 
 and Lady Montagu there after the marriage, to assist them in 
 their preparations for receiving their darling Margaret as Lady 
 Leigh. 
 
 During the five years that they had ostensibly lived at Bath, 
 they always came during the holidays, accompanied by such 
 school friends as Margaret selected, to Montagu House. Milli- 
 cent in particular, and Basil, who was asked to meet her, were 
 frequent guests, even during their grandfather's lifetime. For 
 he was a just man, and however faulty his son-in-law might be, 
 and however odious the wife he had taken to replace his daugh- 
 ter, yet he would not sujQfer the children to be wholly estranged 
 from their father.
 
 36 MARGARET 
 
 Erlscourt was, however, no place for Millicent ; but at Mon- 
 tasru House she couhl now aud thou see her lather, and occasion- 
 ally spend a day with him. 
 
 Not that it could be any satisfaction to a gentle, intelligent 
 mind like hers, to see how misrule reigued tjiere, to s.iy nothing 
 worse. A ti-ibe of rude, immauuerly cliildren, encouraged by 
 Lady Erlscourt, and unrestrained by their father, subjected the 
 half-brother and sister to many slights and indignities, to which 
 less indul'Tont and kind natures would not have submitted. 
 
 Both Basil and Millicent tried in thuir ditfereut ways to be on 
 more affectionate terms with their father's second family, and 
 spared no means to counteract tlie evil influence of Lady Erls- 
 court. And amply rewarded did they feel themselves, if in one 
 or two they found symptoms of a better nature, and they will- 
 ingly put up with their rudeness in the hope of benefiting them. 
 
 Age and ill-doings had not impi-oved cither Lord or Lady Erls- 
 court, since the time that Basil had run away, and by this means 
 released himself and his little sister. 
 
 He was more morose, irritable, and unsociable than ever. 
 
 She had lost the beauty that had raised her to her present 
 position, and was considerably changed for the worse in every 
 respect. In one thing she remained unaltered ; her hatred to 
 her step-children only gained slrength with time. 
 
 Basil stood in the way of lier own son becoming Lord Erls- 
 court, while Millicent's beauty, grace, and dignified manners 
 shone conspicuous to the detriment of her own daughters. 
 
 Nevertheless a semblance of interest and alfection was carried 
 on, though most warmly kept up on the part of the step-eliildren. 
 
 Basil visited his father often, and was at his command on all 
 occasions, for the life Lord Erlscourt led was beginning to tell 
 upon him, and it was often necessaiy to luive such an adviser as 
 Basil at hand. Lady Erlscourt aud her numerous low relatives 
 were on the watch to take any advantage they could gain. This 
 her husband knew ; and not so nuich out of love for his son, as 
 to spile her, he did nothing without that son's advice. 
 
 The disinterested, highly-principled conduct of Basil ought to 
 have won him their best alleetiuns, that is, if they were worth 
 haviuir. But a nature like liers c<juhl not understand, and a 
 heart like Lord Erlscourt 's could not appreciate, such conduct. 
 
 Millicent saw them twice a year, during the holidays, which 
 she was purposely a>ked to spend at ^lontagu House. Just be- 
 fore her grandfather's death, she had been engaged to be married 
 to a dear friend of her brother's, Gerald Herbert ; but after this
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 3T 
 
 death, as was intimated before, their trials began. Millicent's 
 marriage was peremptorily broken otF, and she was again sent to 
 school. Not that any objection could be made to the match, or 
 to the object of her affections ; but it was simply the old spirit, 
 that had so cruelly crushed her childhood's happiness, again 
 breaking forth, on finding her once more in its power. 
 
 Basil, after enduring a series of conduct, disgusting from its 
 mean vulgarity, and irritating from its excessive spite, had left 
 the home he had wished to find with his father, and gone abroad. 
 
 But to return to Sir Thomas and Lady Montagu, Tl>ey have 
 arrived at their destination. Old Sir Thomas finds himself bet- 
 ter, warmer, more at home in his old velvet-covered chair, in the 
 ancient library, with its blazing wood fire. 
 
 Lady Montagu is busy up stairs. She is not looking to see 
 that their own rooms are neat and Avell aired, and everything as 
 it ought to be : no, she is in the state bed-chamber, and she is 
 already ordering fires to be lit, and the grand old embi-oidered 
 satin coverlid to be brought out. 
 
 In fact, though she does not expect her for a week, she is pre- 
 paring for the coming of Lady Leigh. 
 
 Lotty is at the window, partly thinking how glorious the trees 
 look in their autumn beauty, and partly, whether her school-wife 
 finds Harold as good a husband as she was. 
 
 Lotty has gi-own a little, not much. The Beauvilliers say to 
 each other, " She is very young, we must not expect to see her 
 very tall as yet." 
 
 Lotty has never forgotten her mother's words. Though she is 
 such a wild, mad thing at times, with spirits that nothing seems 
 to tame, she finds out what her duty is and does it. 
 
 Millicent is in the conservatory. She hears her name whis- 
 pered in a broken voice. She looks up. Can this be Basil? 
 
 Weary, travel-stained, and pale as he appeared, that was 
 nothing to the haggard wildness in his eyes, his restless, despair- 
 ing look. 
 
 " Dearest brother ! " said Millicent, springing to his side. 
 
 " Sister, my sister ! the only thing I have left to love ! " said 
 Basil, in hollow tones. 
 
 " Basil, speak not thus, I implore you. What has happened ? " 
 
 "Ah ! Millicent, did you not guess my secret? Could you not 
 have guarded my treasure for me ? God help me ! for vain is 
 the help of man ; or take me to himself, for my burden is too 
 great to bear." 
 
 The truth flashed on Millicent's mind. 
 4
 
 38 MARGARET 
 
 " Basil, you were wrong not to tell mo. to trust me. I con- 
 ceived nothing of what I too plainly see now — alas ! alas ! too 
 late ! " 
 
 " I know it is too late. I hurried home on the receipt of your 
 letter, telling me that the marriage was to take place. 1 hastened 
 home, not, Milly, to serve myself, but that most lovelv, innocent, 
 gentle spirit. I know Sir Harold by report only ; but O ! Mil- 
 licent, he is not the husband she should have. Generous and 
 kindhearted I know he is ; but she is such a child, she has such 
 a gentle, timid heart ; if he does not find the way to it, if he 
 speaks but an unkind word, he will crush it. break it. Ah ! 
 Milly, Milly, did you not know that I loved Margaret more than 
 my life? that I only refrained from telling her so, because of her 
 youth and innocence ? " 
 
 " No, dearest Basil, no, I never guessed it. You have been 
 so much together since she Avas the little gentle child of seven 
 years old. I traced nothing but the love that had always passed 
 between you. Besides, I was with Isabel at the seaside the last 
 holidays." 
 
 " True, most true," murmured Basil. " To the lone for- 
 est only did I whisper my hopes and wishes. 'Durino- 
 the long, silent nights, under the arching boughs, witii no 
 spectator but the quiet, gentle moon, did I utter vows to 
 make the hap})iness of that lovely being my one care and 
 pleasure. ()! Margaret, Margaret, lost to me! and still 
 more lost am I ; thus dreaming, thus speaking, and thou the 
 wife of anotlier." 
 
 Shocked to see that strong, nervous frame shaken like a timid 
 child's, still more shocked tit the grief and despair whieh seemed 
 to have upset that high and noble heart, Milliceut could but kiss 
 the fevered brow, and clasp tiie wringing hands. 
 
 " He will not understand her delicate, slirinking nature, appa- 
 rently timid and weak, but strong in its purposes of love and un- 
 peltishness ; and she is so young, but a child yet, to be moulded 
 into the intelligent, just-thinking, high-j)rincipled woman. I know 
 her, ah ! so well. Let a check be given to the elforts her own 
 heart will prompt her to make, and (hat heart will close, and 
 preying upon itself, will break perhaps, and die, but never open 
 again, to aught save love and conlidence." 
 
 '* Basil, my brother," murmured Millicent, in low, soft tones, 
 " we are not to meet our mfither but through nnicli tribulation ; I 
 pray (lod to give you strengtii to Ix-ar this burden. You have 
 much to live for yet. Our house to redeem from perdition, our
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 89 
 
 people aad lands to save from destruction. Think, Basil, for one 
 moment, think what we should be without you." 
 
 " Give me time, sister, give me time. But you know me well 
 enou"-h to believe that I will not bear this shame upon my heart 
 and live. Give me but time. I will now go to the keeper's 
 house in the forest ; I will take possession of my rooms there ; 
 I will bury myself and my gi-ief in the heart of the woods. Pray 
 for me, Millicent ; pray that I may leave it there, and return to 
 you, blighted, indeed, but with a firm purpose to do my duty, aa 
 becomes a man and a Christian. I think, yes, sister, I half think, 
 if I know that she is happy, I may die content." 
 
 He buried his face in his hands, and the strong manly frame 
 shook with emotion. 
 
 " O, my Basil ! may I not come with you? may I not devote 
 myself to you, and you only?" 
 
 "" No, Milly, no ! I must be alone ; and I beseech you, sister, 
 tell no one that» you have seen me, or that I have returned to 
 England. You shall hear from me constantly ; I shall write, 
 yes, perhaps, daily. But give me time, IMilly, give me time, 
 and leave me alone to wrestle with my sorrow." 
 
 He folded her in his arms wdth a hasty but fond embrace, and 
 •was gone before she could utter one Avord to detain him. 
 
 It Avas some time before she could calm herself sufficiently to 
 return to the library. Lotty was still watching the various 
 changes in the lovely landscape, as it lay sloping before the win- 
 dows, bathed in glowing sunshine ; Sir Thomas was dozing, and 
 Lady Montagu reading. 
 
 " Come," said Lotty, as Millicent entered, " and watch these 
 rooks ; they seem bent upon some extraordinary quaint busi- 
 ness." 
 
 As Millicent joined her, she continued, in a voice hardly to 
 be heard at the other end of the room, " How is Basil? " 
 
 "What do you know about him?" said Milly, in amazement, 
 and evasively. 
 
 " I mean, how did he bear it ? " said Lotty. 
 
 " Bear what? Lotty, you are an enigma? " 
 
 " No, that I am not ; I am straightforward enough. Is poor 
 Basil in great distress ? " 
 
 " How did you know he was here? " 
 
 " I did not know at all, but I had an idea he woidd come, and 
 I see a man's glove lying on the lawn. Now, it is not Sir 
 Thomas's ; gardeners do not generally wear gloves, so I con- 
 cluded it to be Basil's." -
 
 40 MARGARET 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty, you are too quick for me to deceive you. 
 Basil has indeed been here, that is, the ghost of Basil. Ah, my 
 Lotty ! never did I see such a change," 
 
 " Come, do not take on so ; I dare say he wished no one to 
 know he is here, so let us go into the dear old forest, then you 
 shall tell me everything, and cry at your leisure — it wiU do 
 you good." 
 
 Milly looked with surprise at the little school-girl by her side, 
 and when they Avere fairly out of the house, said, " Little 
 Lotty, tell me how you know all these things that you seem 
 to know ? " 
 
 " Nobody told me, but I guessed. I am fifteen, and. Miss 
 Elton says, quite learned enough to leave school next year. 
 However, I love Margaret, and I love Basil ; I tliink he is a 
 man, in the true sense of the word, fit to take upon himself the 
 care of such a creature as Margaret. He is loving, yet manly ; 
 gentle, yet firm ; good, yet forbearing. I like B<isil very much, 
 and if he had man-ied Margaret, I would have been bridesmaid ; 
 that is, I think I would, for I do not approve of marrying." 
 
 " And Avhy, little one, did you deem it necessary to have any 
 ideas ou the subject?" 
 
 " AV'liy should I not? Did Flory and Carry think of aught 
 else? to say nothing of Augusta. They believed me to be a safe 
 listener, ignorant and innocent, so I heard all, and drew my 
 conclusions. If any man marries you he will do well. If 
 Basil had married Margaret, they would have been happy ; now, 
 she Avill not, without a great dt'al of sorrow first. If any one 
 marries Flory, he will have a niischief-nuiking, gossiping wife, 
 and that is not good. If any body marries Carry, he might just 
 as well have some old, fat, child-spoiling nurse for a wife, which 
 is also not good. And if any foul marries Augusta, — but is 
 there such a fool in the world? I think not. Lastly, if any one 
 wants to marry me," — here Lotty drew herself up, — " he will 
 repent it. 80 you sec, out of all of us, I deem only one fit to be 
 married." 
 
 Lotty chatted on thus, to divert her companion's mind. 
 
 " You are certainly very quick-witted, my Lotty," said Mil- 
 licent. 
 
 " About men, I am," said Lotty ; " because I live with them 
 so much. But all my brotliers, and uncles, and cousins are 
 true Ik-auvillians — tlioy all make good husbands ; and I wi>h, 
 Millv, you Nvuuld think of marrying JSuruuiu, instead of 
 Gerald." 
 
 " Lotty ! "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 41t 
 
 " Well, do not look so indignant ! There now, that has done 
 you good, getting in a rage ; no, rage I cannot call it, but get- 
 ting put out with me. Now, come, pray tell me how is Basil?" 
 
 " Heart-broken, Lotty." 
 
 "Not quite, I hope. Where has he hid himself?" I sup- 
 pose at the old keeper's cottage." 
 
 " Lotty, you are a little witch." 
 
 " No, only sharp. But could you not imagine to yourself 
 that, buried in the heart of the forest, with nothing but the 
 grand old trunks of the trees, and the beautiful, spiritual tracery 
 of the branches all around you, with a pale star gleaming here 
 and there, like the pitying eye of an angel, you could there lay 
 your son-owful heart before the Almighty, and be sure that the 
 pitying eyes would bear the bruised thing to heaven?" 
 
 " My Lotty ! how unlike the wild Lotty you talk." 
 
 *' But why should I not feel, especially for those I love? 
 Basil will talk to his beloved forest, he will pour out his griefs 
 in her lonely, dark bosom, and return to us with the light and 
 the sun ; but he will never love any one but Margaret. And 
 now, see the rooks are wheeling about, preparatory to a flight 
 to their dormitories ; we must fly home, too, or we shall lose 
 our dinners. You must not fret ; you cannot unmarry Mar- 
 garet. I never approved of the marriage, mind ; let Basil sur- 
 feit himself with grief, he will then begin to think of the dearest 
 of sisters, and be comforted." 
 
 "But, Lotty, you surprise me so ; but now you were the little 
 wild school-girl, coming to me for advice on every occasion : our 
 positions seem to me reversed." 
 
 " That is because your kind heart is so grieved and disturbed 
 for Basil ; your usual judgment and sense are clouded. Now I, 
 caring for nothing and nobody, think calmly and with reason." 
 
 " Caring for nothing and nobody, Lotty?" 
 
 " Yes, since I have lost Margaret. But, however, do not 
 
 fear that our reversed positions Avill be permanent ; take your 
 
 place again, be the loved, honored, adored Millicent, and I will 
 
 be once more Charlotte Beauvilliers." 
 ^ *
 
 42 MARGARET 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Maroarkt passed her father's threshold like a sunbeam. 
 Surely they had forgotten, even in that short tiuR-, that she was 
 so lovely, fresh, and blooming ; or were her natural perfections 
 doubled, as she stood by the side of her handsome, distinguished- 
 lookin'jr husband, blushin<; and smilin<T under the "lance of his 
 beaming eyes ? To herself she seemed doubled ; another heart 
 ■was hers, another life and existence bound with her life. Two- 
 fold were her sources of pleasure and happiness ; she had yet to 
 realize that twol'old might be her sorrows. 
 
 The partial dotage into which Sir Thomas had fallen, through 
 grief at the loss of his daughter, and fear lest they had not done 
 wisely by their Margaret, gave Avay before the delight of her 
 presence, the sunny halo she diffused around her. Kach night 
 he confided to the equally-pleased mother, " I think we did right 
 to let our Margaret marry ; " and each night she answered iu 
 return, " God bless her sweet beaming face ; may we die ere we 
 see it changed ! " 
 
 Little Lotty was very unpleasant all this time, and so far 
 from suffering Margaret to hold her former place in her time 
 and affections, was continually to be seen in a biting, sarcastic, 
 acrimonious mood, which had, among her school-fellows, gained 
 her the name of " Bear." 
 
 At a certain hoiu- every day she Avoidd moimt her pony, and, 
 in sulky silence, start off alono for the forest ; and though some 
 secret signs might pass between her and Millicent, the Beauvil- 
 lian blood was not in a mood to submit to any questioning. 
 That she rode some distance and at a good pace, might be judged 
 from the state of her steed when she returned, but nothing more 
 definite could be obtained of her doings. 
 
 " ludeed, Lotty," said Margaret, one day, " I tliink you are 
 very unkind to me ; your holidays are nearly over, and perhaps 
 when you are again at liberty I may not be here." 
 
 " You will n<jt miss me, I dare say; yon have Harold," re- 
 turned Lotty. 
 
 '' But 1 shall miss you, my little school-husband ; and do you 
 imagine, becanst! I am married, that every other feeling is 
 absorbed ? unkind little bear ! "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 43 
 
 "When every other word you say is ' Harold,' I do not know 
 how Lotty is to be considered." 
 
 " You know my first duty is to him, and all my first wishes 
 should be ; nevertheless, there is no reason why we are to love 
 each other less." 
 
 " I did not approve of the marriage from the first," retorted 
 Lotty ; " it is so absurd of girls to go and many when they do 
 not quite know their own minds, and, at all events, have not lost 
 all their girlisms, and become reasonable women." 
 
 "I do not know that you ever found me unreasonable, 
 Lotty." 
 
 " No ; I should be very glad for you if I thought you Avere 
 likely to become unreasonable now and then, for I am sure it 
 would do Harold good." 
 
 " How? " said the loyal young wife, her cheek flushing. 
 
 " Because he has been accustomed to have everything so 
 much his own way, that he Avill become a victim to enmii, 
 unless you give him a little trouble. If he had been Avise 
 enough to marry Augusta, he would have been in hot Avater 
 all his life, and all the better for it." 
 
 Tears filled the soft eyes, so lately Lotty's pride and delight. 
 
 " O Margaret ! Margaret ! don't cry ! How can you care for 
 what your wild Lotty says ? " 
 
 "But I do care ; how can I help it? I know you only say 
 what you feel." 
 
 " Then, my Queen Margaret, remember what I say : it is not 
 good to let a man see how much you love him, or how great his 
 power is over you. If he has a mean mind, he will take advan- 
 tage thereof; if he has a generous, kind heart, like Harold's, 
 he will not think the better of you for always deferring to his 
 opinion ; he will forget to ' give and take,' ' bear and forbear.' 
 Do not let him think that you are a lovesick school-girl. Hus- 
 bands nowadays, and all days, I imagine, Avant some other 
 qualities in their Avives beside love, Margaret." 
 
 "■ I doubt I am nothing better, Lotty. I feel great purposes 
 within me, but they are all love, and nothing else." 
 
 " Then all I can say is, Plarold is A'ery happy to have such 
 love, and I hope it Avill do you both a great deal of good." 
 
 " I must say, I have been highly edified Avith this lecture 
 on matrimony," said Millicent, coming forAvard ; " and really 
 wonder, do not you, Margaret, AA^here little Lotty picks up her 
 experience ? " 
 
 Lotty pouted.
 
 44 MARGARET 
 
 "I shall be curious to see how she conducts herself when a 
 wife, shall not you, M;irgaret?" continued Milly. 
 
 '• I thiuk she will be the best little wife iu"^the world," said 
 Margaret, her kind heart feeling for Lotty's discomposure. 
 
 "Have you the letter ready?" said tlie little Bear to Milli- 
 cent, " for it is time I should so." 
 
 " Where do you go, Lotty ?" said Margaret. 
 
 " She is a messenger for me, dear Meg," said IMilly ; " but 
 I shall not send to-day, Lotty, dear, tliat you may be as much 
 Avith Margaret as possible." As she spoke, a carriage, evidently 
 from Erlscourt, drove furiously up to the door. With the cer- 
 tainly that it could only be the bearer of some bad tidings, Mil- 
 licent and her companions hastily left the room to learn the 
 reason. 
 
 Lord Erlscourt had met with some sad accident, such as pre- 
 cluded, so Basil's hasty letter said, any hopes of a favorable 
 recovery. In foct, if she wished to see her father again, she 
 must return to Erlscourt in the carriage sent for her. 
 
 It needed no further persuasion to decide Millicent ; in a few 
 minutes she was ready. Lotty obtained permission to accom- 
 pany her ; it was well slie had that faitiiful little comforter, for 
 the scene at Erlscourt was much more trying and painful than 
 any imagination of hers could picture. * The ungodly, dyin"- 
 father, the sellish, upbraiding wife, the unruly, riotous cliildren, 
 all formed a scene so painful and disgusting, tiiat nothing but 
 the firm determination to do their duty supported the brother 
 and sister. 
 
 Basil besought Millicent to make no inquiries CDUceruin"- the 
 cause of the accident; while she, in tenderness to him, refrained 
 from thinking of aught else than assisting him. 
 
 Tiie surgeons had ann(nmced their inability to hold out any 
 hopes of life, while the battered, bruised apjjearance of their 
 patient, his squalid, soiled clothes, and bloated, sulleu visage, 
 too plaiidy show(Ml that a drunken broil with ])eopIe nnu-h be- 
 neath him, Jiad given a rascal's death and felon's end to a peer 
 of the realm. And yet this was not so sad to see, as the riule, 
 grasping determination with wiiich his wife and her relatives 
 crowded round the dying bed, with indecorous haste and greedi- 
 ness, to get words, if not deeds, executed in their favor. In 
 vain Millicent, seated l)y her father's pillow, apjialled by the 
 fierce oaths and imprecations that fell from li])s that ought to 
 have been praying, besought them to leaM- ]vm in jie.ace. The 
 words and threats they dare not bestow on him Mere showered
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 45 
 
 on herself. Basil, seated on the other side bathing his father's 
 hot temples, said nothing ; he knew that to speak would be to 
 raise the storm still higher. The dying father looked at his 
 eldest son and daughter ; the pitying eyes of each were fixed on 
 him with unmistakable love and devotion ; their fair hair, so 
 silky and Avavy, so like their mother's, gave them the appearance 
 of angels amid the group of dark, lowering faces. He feebly 
 waved his hand to enforce silence, and in a distinct, clear voice, 
 said, — 
 
 " I leave everything of which I die possessed to my sou 
 Basil." 
 
 The head di-ooped, the jaw fell — Lord Erlscourt was dead ! 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SoJiE months passed away. 
 
 Sir Harold and Lady Leigh had departed for Court Leigh, 
 leaving the kind and loving old parents happy in the society 
 of a daughter-in-law and two fine grandchildren, and still more 
 happy in the prospect of seeing their Margaret again at Christ- 
 mas. 
 
 Lotty was oncfi" more at school ; she had neither eyes nor ears 
 for anything but good hard study. Miss Elton half repented the 
 concession she had made, that she should leave school at six- 
 teen ; one more year there, and Lotty would have all the learn- 
 ing Miss Elton was capable of imparting, at her fingers' ends. 
 Already she was much above every girl in the sclaool. No 
 study tired her, no intricacies puzzled her. But Lotty had 
 ceased to be the merry school-girl ; Augusta had left school, 
 and it was reported she was going to be married to a rich 
 Loudon banker, an M.P. ; but time went on, still neither cake 
 nor wedding favors arrived. 
 
 Carry and Flory are both to leave school next half, being two 
 very pretty, ignorant, conceited, happy school-girls. Millicent 
 is with her brother deep in the forest, dwelling together in the 
 old Forest House. But she is happy ; sometimes alone with 
 Basil, sometimes accompanied in her walks and rides by a fit- 
 ting mate for such beauty and gentleness as hers. 
 
 She is to be married in the spring ; that was Basil's first act 
 and deed, as was fitting it should be. And Basil himself?
 
 46 MARGARET 
 
 In those dark-blue eyes there is a shado^n', the beautiful head 
 %vith its cluistoring curls of fair hair droops, the tiue athletic 
 frame falters, but ouly when aloue. 
 
 As his father died with those words upou his lips that left 
 Basil heir to everything, there also fell a conviction upou his 
 mind that he was responsible for everything. 
 
 Assuming at once the position he meant to keep, which, 
 spite his youth and inexperience, all could see he would keep, 
 Basil dismissed peremptorily, forever, the rude and riotous 
 com])auions his father had so unfortunately encouraged ; leav- 
 in"- all unnoticed the gibes and sneers that followed all his 
 actions, the taunts that were showered on him, because his 
 father's funeral was performed with the utmost privacy and 
 quietness. It needed but little time to show, that the young 
 Lord Erlscourt knew Avhat he ought to do, and did it. l*er- 
 haps the hardest duty he had to perform Avas with Lady Erls- 
 court. But she, in her turn, discovered that vituperative 
 threats, beseechings, and entreaties, were alike unavailing with 
 the present head of the house. Besides, her best policy was to 
 be friends, for otherwise she and her children were beggars. 
 The old lord, Avicked as he had been, kncAv the value of a 
 character like Basil's, and felt that he left his Avife and second 
 family in the safest hands, Avhon he Ici't them in his son's. 
 
 As soon as Basil found that Ladv Erlscourt could be reason- 
 able, he, Avith the delicacy of a good and gi'eat mind, opened his 
 plans to her, as if for consultation botAveen them. And she 
 found that although she had only the semblance of a choice, yet 
 she could not but feel that she little deserved the good fortune 
 her step-son Avas preparing for her. 
 
 It Avas absolutely necessary for the Avell-being of the estate 
 that Erlscourt should be cleared of its late inhabitants. Basil 
 felt that no efforts of his could remove the base influence of the 
 late reign, so long as one of the old domestics was allowed to 
 remain. 
 
 Lady P>lscourt Avould haA-e remonstrated, had she dai-ed, 
 on Basil's determination to shut the castle up for a term of 
 years ; b>it he allowed her so handsome a sum to hire a house 
 in London, Bath, or any other town, that she cr)uld say nothing ; 
 further sums Avere given her, but all at Basil's free command, 
 upon her fullllling certain conditions regarding her chiMrcn. 
 The two eldest girls Averc to be sent to school ; he imderfook 
 the expense of educating the boys himself; this arrangement 
 would leave her a little girl to be a compaoion at home.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 47 
 
 In every thing to secure the respectability of his half brothers 
 and sisters, Basil acted with the wisdom of an older head, and 
 the generosity of a noble mind. 
 
 He fitted up the old Forest House, and having cared for them 
 all, and established them all as he wished, he waited but the end 
 of their mourning to make the patient Millicent happy, happy in 
 the love and confidence of a heart most worthy of her : to give 
 her such happiness as Avas never to be his. 
 
 True, he had many duties before him, and he would taste the 
 rare happiness of doing good, and reaping the fruits thereof. 
 He had the hard, and yet most pleasing, duty of improving his 
 estates, reforming his tenantry, repairing the rack and ruin of 
 the last reign, and was young enough to feel assured that, in 
 all probability, he would see the benefits of his labors. Was 
 there no pleasure in these prospects, in these hopes? There 
 was. 
 
 Basil ajjain said to himself, — 
 
 " If I only know that the gentle angel who so early crossed 
 my path of life is happy, I shall live content." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Court Leigh was a very fine old place : quaint and curious 
 were its angles, courts, and turrets, with casement windows of 
 all sizes and shapes, scarcely two alike. Myrtle trees crept up 
 to the higher windows, ciat and trimmed with such old-fashioned 
 precision, that the eyes lingered lovingly on a wild creeping rose, 
 which sent its thousand clusters of scented blossoms in every 
 direction. Down by the lower windows it grew with the grave 
 decorum that seemed to pervade the place ; but up out of reach, it 
 threw its graceful brandies in wild confusion over the staid 
 myrtles, peeping out here and there, when least expected, every 
 bright blossom laughing, as in sport, that no pruning knife could 
 reach them. 
 
 The stately pleasaunce of oldon time was not wanting, leading 
 to an avenue of walnut trees ; this was again crossed by one of 
 elms, and further in the distance was a double avenue of gnarled 
 old oaks ; magnificent trees, many centuries old, leading the 
 imagination to wonder if they ever could have been young, ten- 
 der saplings, so old, so gray, so venerable did they appear.
 
 48 MARGARET 
 
 Near the house was a stately parterre of flowers, with clipped 
 yew trees at regular distances, and little summer-houses at each 
 corner. 
 
 jSot a dead leaf to be seen, not a twig displaced, not a branch 
 out of order. Lovely as the old house looked in the evening 
 sunset, yet said Margaret to herself, " AVhat a formal old 
 garden ! " 
 
 Lady Katheriue Leigh, with the gentle and quiet Pru. and 
 Pro., were there to greet the newly-married pair, and while the 
 bride felt that nothing could be meant more kindly, the formality 
 of her I'cception matched the garden. 
 
 Between a small lane of servants. Lady Katherine advanced, 
 and restraining, by her solemn manner, Margaret's gentle 
 impulse of affection, made a sort of oration over her, which 
 visibly affected Pru. and IVo. and some of the stately maidens, 
 while Harold inwardly chafed, and suppressed tittering might 
 have been heard from among the younger servants. She was 
 about to perform the same ceremony over her son ; but taking 
 his mother's arm in his, he led her into the draAving-room 
 before she had time to say a word. 
 
 " My son, my dear son ! on such an occasion it was proper 
 I should say a few words." 
 
 " Dearest mother, I am so fatigued," said Harold, throwing 
 himself listlessly on the sofa. 
 
 " A few words, my dear son, were expected of me ; I had 
 prepared them." 
 
 " I kiss your hands, dear mother, and ask for permission to 
 have some soda water." 
 
 Lady Katherine was not to be put down in this way ; Harold 
 had his soda water, shared half with his dear Meg, drew her on 
 to tlie sofa by his side, and then lelt he might listen ])aticntly. 
 
 So he had it all two or three times over, with the action in- 
 tended for each point ; and while he might weary at his mother's 
 prolixity, he felt thankful this scene, copied from some act of the 
 blessed Queen Charlotte's, was enaeted before so small an 
 audience. Three out of the four certainly listening with devout 
 and reverent attention, not to say admiration. 
 
 Lady Katlierine was a very kind-hearted, good woman, but 
 not by any means a sensible one. 
 
 Let an idea once gain entrance into her brain, it remained 
 there stereotyped ; no accidental circumstance, no change of 
 events altered that idea ; it l)ecame fixed in her mind in the 
 original state in whicii it eulei'ed. She had married late in life
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 49 
 
 herself, indeed she was nearly forty before that event took place, 
 consequently she had not undergone the ordeal of a new life, or 
 a new change of ideas, when the mind was young and plastic ; 
 she had therefore no idea of change -^— variety was inconceivable. 
 Whether her opinions and habits agreed with old Sir Harold 
 Leigh's, might have been questioned had they lived long to- 
 gether ; but having ainple reason to be satisfied with the discre- 
 tion and care with which she ruled his house, the stateliness with 
 which she presided at the head of his table, and the excellence 
 of her cuisine^ he managed to live very happily for eight years 
 Avith a woman who was certainly intended by education, if not 
 by nature, for an old maid, rather than a wife and mother. 
 
 On becoming a widow. Lady Katherine assumed an extra 
 portion of reserve and state. Everything was conducted after 
 the mauuer of a small court ; whereof Lady Katherine was 
 Queen, the pretty little erect ladies, Geoi-gina and Charlotte, were 
 princesses, and a rosy, curly-pated, baby boy, the heir-apparent. 
 
 Under this stiff but kind rule, formal but gentle sway, no 
 wonder Georgina and Charlotte changed into Prudence and 
 Propriety. 
 
 Harold of course went to school, from school to college, from 
 college into the army, ever bearing a deferentiali and dutiful feel- 
 ing towards his mother, while each change of scene and place 
 the more unfitted him for the sombre pleasures of his home. 
 
 It never entered Lady Katherine's head that a young man 
 ought to have something to do ; she could not expect the fine, 
 handsome, lively boy to sit down, knit or knot, play quadrille or 
 cribbage, evening after evening, from week to week, year to 
 year, as the dutiful and patient Georgina and Charlotte did. 
 But still she could not suffer such an act as that he should go 
 shooting with keepers, hunting with farmers, fishing with 
 strangers. She suffered prodigious anxieties, trying to think of 
 some employment for him, having some faint remembrances of 
 idle hands and Satan's mischief, which tormented her, without 
 her being able to discover why it did so. She ransacked the old 
 library for proper, and at the same time reasonably entertain- 
 ing books for him ; she even learned backgammon to please 
 him ; though Pru. and Pro. were sent to the other end of the 
 room when they played, that their innocent minds might not 
 even know the look of dice. Nevertheless Harold's holidays 
 always cost her a fit of illness, and the termination of them was 
 generally highly agreeable tg all parties, though they loved each 
 other warmly. 
 
 5 
 
 V
 
 60 MARGARET 
 
 As Harold grew older, he would have liked to employ the 
 many hours he spent over idle stories, novels, or travels, or that 
 he lounged away with his dogs, or slept, or ate away, in riding 
 over his estates, and becoming acquainted with his tenantry. 
 
 But that was quite tbi'bidden, was considered about the last 
 thing he ought to do ; in fact, evcrj'thing regarding business, 
 all the duties and obligations of landlord and tenant, were care- 
 fully kept from him, not from any other feeling than that Lady 
 Katherine had been taught to consider there was an insuperable 
 bar between the rich and the poor. 
 
 They had an agent or steward — he was the proper person to 
 manage such thinj^s ; but for Sir Harold to know that he had 
 tenants who had wants, or for them to know that they had a 
 landlord who would himself attend to such wants, was deemed 
 by Lady Katherine a thing unknoAvn, unheard of. 
 
 So from his childliood Harokl had many idle, Aveary, listless 
 days, wherein he had nothing to do, nothing in which to be 
 interested. 
 
 This had imparted to his cliaracter a sort of indolent independ- 
 ence of anything not peculiarly interesting ; torpor of mind 
 Avould accompany torpor of body ; and though on occasion he 
 could readily throw off both, and appear the frank, generous, in- 
 telligent fellow he really was, yet he as rea<lily gave way to the 
 dolce far nieyite, and was at tlie time of his marriage as useless 
 and uninteresting a member of society as a rich young baronet 
 could be allowed to be. 
 
 Nevertheless he was the cynosure of the loveliest, softest eyes, 
 the loadstone of the warmest, gentlest heart this erring world 
 can give. 
 
 Though no one was present save thomselves. Lady Katliorinc 
 had deemed it proper to have a grand Itauquet ])reparetl ; all tiie 
 rich old family plate, all the rare old china, and drajjcry marvel- 
 lous for age, beauty, and fineness of texture, were disj)laycd. 
 
 lint I\rargaret was thinking so much of Ilarolil, so far from 
 her at the bottom of the groat taMe, yawning and looking vexed, 
 that she noticed but little of all this grandeur. They wont through 
 the Ion;,', stately dinner in a di;,niifiod manner certainly; Lady 
 ICathcrine prosed to her heart's content ; I'ru. and I'ro. feebly 
 chirped, noAv and then, little staid sentences ; Harold was almost 
 silent, and Margaret was fast catching the chirping tone, in her 
 efforts to comport herself to Lady Katherine's satisfaction. 
 
 When at last tlio weary dinner was over, and the servants 
 were withdrawn, Harold jumped up with some degree of energy,
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. . 51 
 
 and protesting he would be banished no longer, seated himself in 
 the old-fashioned window, where Margaret, with joyful alacrity, 
 joined him. She looked very much inclined to seat herself upon 
 a loved knee that looked an invitation most indisputably ; but 
 awe of Lady Katherine prevented that indecorum ; still one 
 little white hand did nestle coaxingly in the luxuriant hair, so 
 dark, so rich. 
 
 " My dear," said Lady Katherine, " pray do not ; remember 
 there are young people in the room ; I cannot permit Georgina 
 and Charlotte to witness such " 
 
 " Dear mother, may not my wife pull about my locks?" said 
 Harold, 
 
 " Certainly not, I never heard of such a thing ; should any 
 servant have occasion to enter, pray, my de^ir son, what would 
 they think?" 
 
 " Servants have no business to think, mother," said Harold, 
 yaAvniug. 
 
 " Shall we go out, Harold? " whispered Margaret. 
 
 " Yes, by Jove we Avill ! any place is better than tliis banquet- 
 scented room." 
 
 " Pray, my dear son and daughter, be seated. I have much 
 to say to you, Harold ; as a mother, it is my duty to give you 
 some advice on your conduct as a married man, and the head of 
 your family." 
 
 Harold sat down without a word certainly, but with an ex- 
 pression in his face Margaret had never seen before. 
 
 Lady Katherine recapitulated her speech before dinner, with 
 sundry other remarks, which altogether drew the discourse into 
 such a length that Harold was convicted of a snore in one of the 
 most interesting parts. Apologizing in sincerity for his rudeness, 
 Harold declared he must go out, for the journey, and the length 
 of the dinner, had fatigued him in a great degree. He disap- 
 peared in such a hurry that Margaret had not even time to ob- 
 tain a glance. She was too timid to dare to think of accompany- 
 ing him, so she followed the stately and rather offended old lady 
 into the great drawing-room, with an air as meek and obedient 
 as her two daughters. 
 
 There they sat for two long hours, doing nothing but listen to 
 the old lady's numerous and rather confused stories of her court 
 life ; — while Margaret heard the step she loved best in the 
 woi-ld, pacing up and down before the windows, smelt the faintest 
 scent of a cigar, and heard the low humming of a voice that was 
 music to her.
 
 52 MARGARET 
 
 Yet she felt it very wrong and treacherous of her to feel tired, 
 "wcarj, and forlorn, and not even the admiring glances aud timid 
 whispers of atfection trom her new sisters could make up for the 
 hearing that measured tread. With tea came the truant, much 
 refreshed, and very eloquent in his praise of the beauty of the 
 night. 
 
 Then remarking the pale looks of his wife, he recommended 
 her to go to bed, whither the kind Pru. conducted her, and the 
 more active I*ro. ran on before, to see all Avas as it shoidd be. 
 
 In the warm, simple ailection they gave her, Margaret did 
 not take further notice of their childish pleasure and girlish 
 questions, than to imagine that they Avere adapting their manners 
 to her school-girl habits ; and she loved them all the more for 
 their goodness to her. 
 
 Lady Katherine had sense enough to know, and good-nature 
 enough to declare, that she and the young Lady Leigh must not 
 reign together. She only intended to remain with them a short 
 time, to give them the advantage of her wisdom and counsels, to 
 start on their matrimonial career with dignity and propriety, 
 
 A house within the park had been prepared lor her aud her 
 daughters, so near, that at any time her vahiable advice could be 
 had for the asking : so Margaret, with the sweet earnestness 
 natural to her, and the, modest appreciation of her own merits, 
 set herself seriously to Avork, to imbibe as much courtly Avisdom 
 as she coidd ; thinking, in tlie innocence of her girlish heart, that 
 she Avas making herself more fit to be tlie Avife of Harold. lie 
 Avas not at tirst aAvare that a curb Avas placed upon the liappy floAV 
 of spirits, so delightful in his eyes, but rather imputed the change 
 from her girlish gayety to embarrassment and fatigue consequent 
 on her new posit if )n. So no Avonder Court Jx'igh seemed to him 
 etill the dullest, most A\'eary place in the Avorld. 
 
 " I should like," said Margaret, one day, as they paced sloAvly 
 among the formal old flower-beds, " to make a really ])retty gar- 
 den here. These beds look very stiff from the windoAvs, aud 
 there are no floAvers, either SAveet or ncAV, in them." 
 
 "I think, little Avife, that is a very good notion ; the country 
 is such a bore, and this is such a dull old hole, 1 shall be glad of 
 somelhing to do." 
 
 *' O ! Harold, do not call our home dull ! " 
 
 "But it is, jMargarc't; I have nothing to do here." 
 
 Margaret Avas too young and igncu-aut to know Avhy or 
 wherefore this Avas the fact, but said, — 
 
 " You shall juiike the plan of a garden, aud so Avill 1, and 
 our sisters shall judge bctAvceu us."
 
 AND HEE BRIDESMAIDS. 63 
 
 *' Make a garden, dear Margaret," said Pru. 
 
 " You and Harold make a garden ! " echoed Pro. 
 
 " No, not ourselves, but draw the plan of one," said Margaret. 
 
 " O ! draw a plan," said Pru. 
 
 " Of a garden ? " said Pro. 
 
 "Yes, quite right, and you shall judge which is best, my 
 plan or Harold's." 
 
 " But we do not understand plans, dear Margaret," said Pru. 
 
 *' No, we never studied plans, dear Margaret," said Pro. 
 
 They had peculiar drawling, but still sweet voices ; and as 
 they echoed each other, Margaret could hardly resist laughing, 
 while Harold said in mimic tones, " I hope you will teach them 
 plans, dear Margaret." 
 
 The two gentle sisters blushed at their brother's mockery, but 
 a horseman appeared on the lawn, which prevented further con- 
 verse on their part ; for, like well-bred, obedient girls, they flut- 
 tered away through the open window, to place themselves under 
 the care and surveillance of their mother, although Harold 
 exclaimed, " It is Philip ! " 
 
 Philip was a man, though a cousin, and a young man too, that 
 is about their own age, very handsome also : so, though a near 
 relative, they did not appear again but in the company of their 
 stately mother. 
 
 Margaret had time to notice the new arrival, and to learn his 
 relationship to her ere he dismounted. Save her own Harold, 
 and perhaps Basil Erie, he was the handsomest man she had 
 ever seen. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Philip Leigh was Harold's first cousin ; he had a small 
 estate and a beautiful house, called High Leigh, in the very cen- 
 tre of Harold's property. He was some years older than Harold, 
 and as his uncle, the last baronet, had married very late in life, 
 for some time Philip had been considered heir-presumptive. Even 
 after his uncle's marriage with Lady Katherine, two little girls 
 were born succeeding each other quickly, but for five years no 
 other children followed. It was therefore most natural that 
 Philip's father and mother should look upon their son as the 
 future baronet, and bring him up accordingly. 
 
 0*
 
 54 MARGARET 
 
 Pliilip was beginning fully to appreciate the idea of being Sir 
 Philip, and to speculate upon Court Leigh being so much more 
 desirable to live in than High Leigh, when Harold unexpectedly 
 made liis appearance nearly six years at'tiT his youngest sister, 
 and not above four months before his father's death. 
 
 Philip never forgave Harold this disappointment. 
 
 Though handsome, clever, witty, sensible, and moderately 
 rich, Philip lived in the world houoi'ed and esteemed, yet nourish- 
 ing in his heart a foolish, mean feeling of envy, which only 
 wanted a little encouragement to break out into malice. 
 
 Sulliciently talented to succeed in whatsoever he undertook ; 
 handsome enough to gain admiration wherever he went ; mode- 
 rate in regard to luxury aud wealth, so as to feel perfectly satis- 
 fied with tiie fortune he possessed, yet Philip counted none of 
 these things of any value or pleasure to him, simply because he 
 was not Sir Philip. 
 
 It was strange that so childish and foolish a notion should have 
 taken such deep root in a naturally strong and vigorous intellect. 
 But so it was : every one is supposed to be weak on one subject, 
 and that was his, little as any of his intimate friends or admirers 
 thought so. He was unmarried, not through want of any oppor- 
 tunities of being so ; for his handsome mouth would curl with 
 rather supercilious pride when questioned on the subject, and he 
 wa.^j wont to turn such conversation from the point Avith .a half 
 laugh of scorn, that his hearers granted I'hilip Leigh might use 
 ■with impunity. 
 
 There was not a young lady in his county who would not have 
 been proud to call Philip Leigh liusb;ui;l, and he kiU'W it. from 
 poor little Pru. aud I'ro., upwards and dov/nwards. No, he dwelt 
 alone ; there he could brood over his one disappointment, and 
 rate and rail away in solitude at a freak of fortune, mitlier ho 
 nor any other man living could remedy. It may be imagined, 
 therefore, he came with no very friendly feelings to greet 
 Harold's wife ; that Harold, who became Sir Harold at four 
 mont'is oM, and who grew and throve in a maimer surjiassing 
 most babies, and was therefore the more to be disliked and 
 envied. 
 
 Who caught measles, hooping cough, and scarlet fever Avith 
 wonderful celerity, and threw them all off as (piickly as he 
 caught th(!m. 
 
 Who never got a bad bill, thoiigli riding by stealth, for fear of 
 his st.'itely mothrr, ;dl the must vicious aud unbroken horses in 
 the neighborhood.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 55 
 
 Who never was shot, or shot any one, or accidentally blew out 
 his own brains, though, for the above-mentioned reason, he took 
 every avaiUible opportunity, wliether safe or unsafe, of acquiring 
 knowledge in the art of gunnery. 
 
 He grew up unscathed, unliarnied, as fine, strong, and healthy 
 a specimen of her Majesty's subjects as might be seen in her do- 
 minions ; and here he was Avitii a wife, who would most likely 
 put an etFectual stop to Philip's secret ambition. 
 
 His quick, handsome eyes, looked thoughtfully on Lady Leigh, 
 as she blusliingly welcomed her Harold's kinsman. "Very 
 pi'etty, but young and foolisli," he mentally said to himself. 
 
 As he rode home after half an hour's visit, he mused witliin 
 himself, and thought thus, — 
 
 " Lady Leigh is very lovely, but she has married by six years 
 too soon ; she is nothing but a school-girl still : if I mistake not, 
 Harold will want something more than a merely pretty wife, to 
 bind him to a home he has never loved. If in her present pliable 
 girlhood she takes pattern by Lady Katherine they will not be 
 happy long. Harold must have excitement of some sort, or he 
 will be annoyed to an intolerable degree. Humph ! I think 
 Lady Leigh has not wit to see that she should strike out a line of 
 her own, and not copy Lady Katherine. I think she already be- 
 gins to speak like Pru. and Pro., and Harold will never stand 
 such peaking and puling. However, far be it from me to inter- 
 fere : if he would marry a school- girl who ought still to be in her 
 pinafore instead of wedding gear, it is no business of mine. Yet 
 there is a look in her eyes, a wonderful look, — I suppose it is 
 love, — pure, deep, earnest love, such a love as lives but once in 
 the human heart, and leaves it but with death. Will such a love 
 conquer the monotony and every-day trials of married life ? Will 
 it prove of sufficient depth, fervor, and strength to bind Harold 
 to an existence, place, and people he has hitherto always dis- 
 liked and fled from ? In an older heart it might perhaps ; but I 
 do not think under that simple girlish manner such devotion wiU 
 be deemed to dwell. I wonder how I should feel with a wife's 
 eyes looking at me as hers did at Harold? I fancy I should like 
 it ; I have now nothing left me but to marry. Bat whom? Not 
 a single woman that I know could I tolerate for a month, not 
 even Harold's pretty bride, with her fathomless love eyes. 
 
 "I have lost the excitement of wondering if Harold would 
 mai-ry ; now my fate is decided ; I feel that unless I get up 
 some irritation, some object about which to interest myself, I 
 shall sink into the hereditary malady of the Leighs, and become
 
 56 MARGARET * 
 
 a hypochondriac. Marriage is hateful to me — every woman to 
 be had for the asking ; so that unless I may act Bluebeard, and 
 marry a new wife wlien I am tired of the old one, — ' I'll none 
 on't.' I think I will amuse myself by making mischief between 
 Harold and his wife. I'll not go too far, but just see if my 
 judgment is at fault concerning their future career. If he would 
 marry a raw, innocent school-girl, it is sm'ely no fault of mine." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 So Philip became a constant visitor at Court Leigh, and was 
 quite aware -that he was a most welcome guest. His easy, quiet 
 flow of amusing conversation, his pei'tinent and sensible remarks, 
 were each iu their turn admired by the whole household. 
 
 "■ Philip puts me much in mind of his gracious Majesty," said 
 Lady Katherine, who meant George the Third, and had not been 
 able to realize the existence of any other sovereign ; "• his re- 
 marks are so sensible, without being verbose." 
 
 " My cousin Philip is very sensible," chirped Pru. 
 
 " I think our cousin Philip is sensible," echoed Pro. 
 
 " Philip is a good-hearted, downright amusing fellow," said 
 Harold. 
 
 " I am always so glad to see Philip," said the softest, sweetest 
 voice possible, " he amuses Harold so much." 
 
 I'liilip knew as well as Harold that great discontent and much 
 distress reigned throughout the whole estate of Cotift Leigh. 
 
 The old Sir Uaroltl had never interested himself tibout it ; and 
 more from ignorunce than unkindness. Lady Katherine had de- 
 clined interfering between the tenantry and the steward ; and, as 
 we have seen, brought up Harold in tiie same ignorance. 
 
 The little that he did know only made him take refuge in the 
 old proverb, "• Wlmre ignorance is Idiss, 'tis iolly to be wise." 
 With his natin;il incdisposition to indolence, fostered by educa- 
 tion, he had inihihcd u sort of liorror of every sort ol" busiiu'ss ; 
 therefon; everytliing was left iu tlie hands of his steward, who, 
 while doing the best he could, was ol)liged to sacrifice some per- 
 son at limes to meet exigencies ; as that never could be the heir, 
 of course nil <rriovanci's fell on the t(Miants. Dilapidated build- 
 ings, tumble-down cottages, gateless lields, broken-down hedges,
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 57 
 
 marked the property of Court Leigh in every direction. But 
 Harold -u-as not induced by the sight to put them to rights, for he 
 did not even know they were his ; also he might, had he not been 
 too indolent to notice it, have been struck with the difference be- 
 tween his cousin's small estate and his own. Philip had not a 
 bad heart, but he had suffered the little speck of envy to spread 
 and corrode it ; also, he was not religious ; like many men of 
 vigorous intellect and strong mental powers, he was apt to make 
 those powers his God. Save that he was not Sir Philip, the 
 head of the family, what was there that he was not ? In his 
 own eyes none were equal to Philip Leigh, with none coidd he 
 compare himself. Yet this one black spot of envy was making 
 him a mean man, and leading him on to do things for which he 
 would be condemned and despised by every right-minded, 
 honorable man. 
 
 A little encouragement about this time, from one esteemed as 
 he was, would have made Harold exert himself; and, once he 
 began to interest himself in his affairs, it was not difficult to im- 
 agine he might become an efficient country gentleman. 
 
 But Philip took a contrary course. 
 
 For want of some better amusement Harold, with no love for 
 it, was apt to linger over the wine, more to escape his mother's 
 prosy court stories and lectures than anything else : Philip 
 encouraged him in this. In their many conversations and 
 mutual confidences, the warm-hearted, frank Harold would dilate 
 upon the simple beauty of his wife's character. Philip chimed 
 in with a sort of compassionate, supercilious air, that gave one 
 the notion they Avere talking of some young and timid pet, and 
 left on Harold's mind the impression that his wife Avas a mere 
 child. And although Pliilip hated himself for this meanness, he 
 was yet so led away by his master-passion, that he kept on in the 
 same course. 
 
 " O Lady Leigh ! " said he, one day, " I am delighted to find 
 you alone. In general you are so surrounded with delighted ad- 
 mirers, that I am unable to get in a word." 
 
 "Yes," said Margaret, simply, " my sisters are very kind to 
 be so fond of me ; we get on so happily together." 
 
 " Then you must not be surprised if I envy them," said Philip ; 
 " I, Avho delight so much in the society of superior female minds, 
 and have so seldom enjoyed it." 
 
 "Did you not, then, know Lady Katherine before?" said 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Is she laughing at me, or a fool?" thought Philip. Then
 
 58 MARGARET 
 
 aloud, " 0, yes ! But do you compare yourself to Lady Kath- 
 eriue ? " 
 
 " No, not at all," said Margaret, laughing. " I, a simple 
 school-girl, O, no ! " 
 
 "But tlie loveliest of her sex," said Philip, with hypocritical 
 fervor ; saying to himself, " She is so simple, she will swallow 
 anvthino;." 
 
 " So Harold says," said Margaret, quite composedly, but with 
 such naivete, Philip could see she cared not one straw for her 
 beauty save as Harold prized it. 
 
 "■ AVould that I had been so fortunate as to see you before 
 Harold did," he continued, in a low voice. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " said Margaret ; " for then you would have 
 told me of him, and I should have learned to love him ere 
 I saw him." 
 
 Philip bit his lip, the corners of his haughty mouth curled 
 with disdain, as Margaret continued, — 
 
 " For I was very much afraid of him at first, and would 
 neither speak to him or look at him, which was very foolish, 
 was it not, Philip ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but, pray tell me, do you love no one but Harold? " 
 
 " 0, yes ! AVhat is this world to me but love ! I have ex- 
 perienced no other feeling ! I know not unkindness, or ever 
 heard a harsh word ; love surrounds me, and I can but give 
 love in return." 
 
 " Will you give it me ? " 
 
 " O, yes, dear Philip ! " said Margaret, holding out both her 
 hands and taking his, her lovely face beaming with aflcctiou 
 and brightness. " How can I help loving you, Harold's own 
 
 'a 
 
 cousin?" 
 
 Foiled again, Philip Leigh ! What sort of character is she — 
 can she be? tor such a one had never crossed his path before. 
 Was she really so very innocent, so simple, so guileless? Did 
 she really love Harold with such strange earnestness and devo- 
 tion, that she could sec nothing but tiirongh him? 
 
 She was a woman after all — nothing but a tender, loving 
 woman. There must be some soft spot in that gentle heart to 
 will' Ii he, in his world-Avise wisdom and pride of intellect, could 
 Hurcly find his way. He had never been foiled by woman yet ; 
 and that a school-girl should puzzle him was not to be endured. 
 The Leigh lethargy disappeared under this new excitement ; we 
 will leave him to pursue his way.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 69 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Basil and Millicent were quietly living in their forest home ; 
 he, schooling his heart to perform its allotted duties, through the 
 long life that seemed his probable fate. The gayer, fairer, more 
 delectable path being closed before him, he turned into the rug- 
 ged, rough road of duty, and already, in the distance, discerned 
 gems of beauty and brilliance opening their rays towards him, 
 as if from heaven. 
 
 Millicent was preparing for her marriage, and studying, 
 amons the wild forest childi-en, to learn the duties of a cler- 
 gyman's wife. 
 
 Gerald Herbert had been for some years in holy orders, but 
 as yet having no living, he acted as curate in large, densely- 
 populated, neglected towns. 
 
 Conscientious, zealous, and indefatigable, he was one of the 
 most promising specimens of the young clergymen who now, in 
 these happy days, begin to abound in this still more happy laud. 
 
 His beaming eyes, his energetic countenance, and jSrm, strong 
 character, would have marked him in earlier ages as a willing 
 and enthusiastic martyr. But, in these times, they give birth to 
 the surmise, that, in the fiurih and excitement of youthful energy, 
 he might perhaps be led into extremes, wliich his matured judg- 
 ment would deprecate. 
 
 The marriage was to be very private, because the year of 
 mourning for her father had not yet expired ; still Basil intended 
 the ceremony to take place at Erlscourt : wishing to prove if his 
 earnest endeavors, his high principles, had conquered in the task 
 he had given them to do. 
 
 Sir Harold and Lady Leigh were 'among the first guests in- 
 vited ; and while IVIargaret was glowing with delight at seeing 
 them all again, Basil was nerving himself to receive in pure and 
 noble courtesy in heart as in conduct, that woman as a guest 
 whom he had hoped to welcome as his wife. 
 
 But Margaret had two other reasons, besides her dear Milly's 
 promised happiness, for looking forward to this meeting with 
 feelings only to be described as ecstatic. 
 
 Her Harold, so like her Harold, had desired her to present, 
 as a wedding-gift to the bridegroom elect, the living of Holm- 
 leigh. It was worth five hundred pounds a-year, with a veiy
 
 60 MARGARET 
 
 pretty rectory-house, and above all, was only a mile from Court 
 Leigh. Thus Margaret and Milliccnt might look forward to 
 spending their closing years together, as they had done their 
 opening ones. 
 
 The other news could only be whispered ; and it Avas whis- 
 pered in the sweet twilight, as they sat together the first even- 
 ing that they met. Had thei'e been light enough, Milly would 
 have wondered at Margaret's beauty, with the rosy bloom blush- 
 ing bright, and the dark, soft eyes glancing with a pure radiance 
 as slie uttered her secret. 
 
 " I am to have a little Harold in the summer ; you will be 
 near me, iMilly, and will see that he is his father's image." 
 Milly showed by her delight the due importance she attached to 
 this secret. 
 
 It may be deemed strange that Millicent did not urge Basil to 
 seek any other guests save his present ones : but she judged of 
 his heart by her own, and knew that he Avould not be calm 
 and free from vain and foolish regrets, until he had thoroughly 
 rooted from his heart any love for the wife of another, than 
 what ought to find place there. 
 
 The wound might smart under this mode of treatment, but its 
 cure would be all the more effectual the more it Avas cauterized ; 
 and to see her, be with her, her husband by her side, her love 
 for another before him, would, she thought, be the last thing 
 necessary. 
 
 She ai)peared before him more lovely than ever, more gentle 
 and engaging than his former fondest expectations had deemed 
 possible ; but the pure halo of a wife's love surrounded her. 
 He enshrined her in his heart as an angel, and vowing lur a 
 brother's love, with warm courtesy and generous hospitalitv, lie 
 set himself the task of welcoming Sir Harold and Lady Leigh 
 to Erlscourt, as honored and beloved guests. 
 
 " How came it. Queen Margaret," said Sir Harold, " that 
 you never told me of Erlscourt and Erlscourt lord ? " Harold 
 had adopted Lotty's term of endearment and devotion for J\Lir- 
 garet, and she well became the title ; tlii-re was something so 
 stately in her sweet simiilicity, so (|tU'eiilike in her modest au\ 
 This Harold said one iiiglit in conjugal (•i)nterence. 
 
 " This is my first visit to Erlscourt," said Margaret, nestling 
 in her accustomed place. 
 
 " But Ei-lscourt is nothing without Basil, as you call him. 
 How came you to be so intimate, sweet Meg?" 
 
 His " sweet Meg" told him the whole story from besiuniuc: 
 to end, wmdmg up by saymg, —
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 61 
 
 " You know, Harold, there is no one like Basil in the world, 
 and we all know it so well, that I thought you did also." 
 
 " A pretty confession from a wife to her husband, Queen 
 Margaret." 
 
 "In what way, Harold?" she answered. 
 
 " Did you not say, there was no one in the world like Basil? 
 and am not I, your husband, deemed worthy a comparison ? " 
 
 "O, no! Harold, I compare you with another? You knew 
 that could not be ; a wife does not compare her husband around, 
 about, near her ; he is her husband, what more ? the rest of the 
 world are nothing." 
 
 Harold kissed the earnest, beseecliing eyes, half pleased with 
 the devoted love she thus betrayed, and half amused at the 
 seriousness with v/hich she answered his bantering, though 
 none knew better than he did what that answer would be. 
 
 " I am so sorry Harold, my little Lotty will not be at the 
 wedding." 
 
 "I am sorry too, for your sake, dear wife; but I care not 
 much for your little friend ; she does not seem to affect me, 
 Margaret." 
 
 " O, yes ! Harold, she does ; she is the dearest, truest- 
 hearted little thing iu the world." 
 
 " She may be, for aught I know." 
 
 " I want to ask her to come and see me at Court Leigh ; may 
 I, Harold?" 
 
 " Ask the whole school if you like, my Meg, governess and 
 all." 
 
 Margaret laughed in girlish glee at this notion, and then said, 
 " So kind you are, my Harold." 
 
 " But do not forget my mother's lecture upon young ladies, 
 with which she favored us three nights running; : if I mistake 
 not, she passed some rather severe censures on your Lotty, and 
 designated her an unmannerly hoiden, while Miss Clai'e Avas her 
 beau ideal of high breeding and gentlewomauliness. That's a 
 long word, but it is my mother's favorite one, and which she 
 uses as a text when she sermonizes Pru. and Pro. 
 
 " How funny you are to-night, Harold ; but though I cannot 
 explain why, everybody at school loved Lotty, and very few 
 cared for Augusta." 
 
 "O! that is easily accounted for — Augusta is very hand- 
 some." 
 
 " Dear Harold, how naughty of you, so unlike you, to say 
 such a thing." 
 
 6
 
 62 MARGARET 
 
 " It is rather sharp of me, I own, but I always feel very lively 
 and chatty when away from Court Leigh ; my spirits get the 
 better of my discretion. But ask all your scliool-lcllows that 
 you wish, sweet wife, for it will enliven that dull old place, and 
 Pru. and Pro. want a little school-girl nonsense knocked into 
 them." 
 
 " I will ask my bridesmaids and Lotty, Harold ; thank you 
 much, and you must ask Basil." 
 
 " Very well, we will employ our time in getting up a love- 
 match between him and one of the school-girls ; I shall like tluit, 
 it will be something to do." 
 
 " I hope Lotty will be his choice," laughed Margaret, entering 
 into her husband's mirth. 
 
 " No, no, none of them will have a chance with Augusta ; 
 besides, being much the prettiest, she is much the best hand 
 at flirting : your Lotty is a little bear." 
 
 " Ah ! that is what we called her at school ; she is sometimes 
 cross, but so true and warm-hearted, and she might be so con- 
 ceited and spoiled, for she is so idolized among her own people." 
 
 " However, I think none of them quite good enough for that 
 glorious fellow, Basil, none but you, Margaret : now, how came 
 you, Queen Meg, to miss falling in love with him ? Confess now, 
 and perhaps I will give you absolution if you tell the whole 
 truth." 
 
 " Indeed," said Margaret, laughing and blushing, " I have 
 nothing to confess ; Basil and I were just like brother and 
 sister." 
 
 " To tell you the truth, my little wife, I think I just secured 
 you in time ; when you left school and liacl nothing to think 
 alxiut. and were in tlie liabit of seeing that liur fellow constantly, 
 I doubt not you would have tumbled 'full fathom live' in love 
 with him." 
 
 " No, no," said Margaret ; " only you, Harold." 
 
 " I ])romise you I am j)leased to tliiiik so, my Queen. I have 
 taken a great lancy to our host ; I ne\ er saw a more ' proper 
 man : ' with his coat thrown back from that broad, powerful 
 chest, his black silk handkerchief knotted with such careless 
 grace around his throat, his locks, bestowing themselves so 
 ])icture.squily round his head, I was greatly struck with his 
 appearance at first sight ; then, Meg, when he s])oke, when his 
 countenance lighted up, and lie looked at me, Avith his wondi'v- 
 lul di'i'p blue eyes, and such a smile |)assed from the eyes down 
 to the mouth, like the sun breaking through a cloud, why then, 
 Margaret, I wondered you never fell in love with him."
 
 AND &ER BKIDESMAIDS. 63 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The wedcHng day arrived. 
 
 Unlike Margaret's Avedding, there was no crying, no dressing, 
 no hurry, no train of bridesmaids, no glitter, no pomp. Her 
 tAvo half sisters. Sir Thomas and Lady Montagu, with some of 
 (Gerald's relatives, formed the party, Caroline, Florence, Lotty, 
 and Augusta had all been asked, but Caroline was going to be 
 married herself to a bluff young country squire, and wanted Flor- 
 ence's able assistance ; Lotty was at school, and Augusta wrote 
 to say, " That though her heart would be with them, and she 
 should regret to the end of her life, however long she might live, 
 that she could not come ; yet the fact was, she begged it might 
 be kept secret, she could not obtain leave of absence from a cer- 
 tain person, who must be nameless, but who ere long would 
 have the fiat of her fate in his hands, &c., &c. The sentence 
 was very long, and ran on from one thing into another, tmtil it 
 became a matter of difficulty to discover its real meaning. 
 
 But it was a very happy wedding. 
 
 The affectionate love of Basil proved itself in the joy with 
 which he save his sister to the husband who had waited so 
 patiently for her ; and the gentle Millicent herself, having no 
 home to regret, no parents to leave, had only one alloy on this 
 her wedding day — she had to part from Basil. 
 
 After the ceremony was over, they left for their new home, 
 Holmleigh, where Gerald was to enter at once upon his duties- 
 Margaret and her husband intended paying a visit to her good 
 old parents, and from thence return to Court Leigh. 
 
 " Dear Meg," said Harold, as they left Erlscourt, " I am 
 sorry to leave this place, and though I mean while we are at 
 Montagu House to trouble Basil pretty often with my company, 
 I somehow feel as if we were leaving a good atmosphere when 
 leaving him." 
 
 Margaret had been content to know that everything went 
 well when Basil was at hand, without finding out the cause ; so 
 she merely answered, — 
 
 " I am so glad, Harold, you like him." 
 
 " I do more than like him, I respect him. I begin to think 
 I was not rightly brought up. Surely if Lord Erlscourt thinks 
 it necessary to look after his own affairs, to be up early and
 
 64 MARGARET 
 
 late, not suffer even the meanest of his people to be denied 
 an audience — it -would not be unbecomiug a baronet to do the 
 same." 
 
 "O Harold! but you would not like it, you -would be so 
 troubled and teased ; Basil has been accustomed to trouble all 
 his life, his father -vA'as not good." 
 
 " I feel quite certain I should be horribly l)ored ; but T much 
 question if it is not the proper thing for a lauded proprietor to 
 do. Queen Meg." 
 
 " It may be, Harold; but perhaps your people are different 
 from Basil's, and I should think your mother would certainly 
 know what was best." 
 
 (Ah ! sweet jMargaret, in your jealous love for your husband's 
 honor, are you not pandering to his besetting sin, indolence?) 
 
 " Well, I shall think it over while 1 stop here, and at all 
 events I will Avatch Basil, and see if I can adopt a hint or two. 
 I believe our people are a horrid set ; but from all I can hear, 
 none are more lawless than those about here. And yet what 
 order he has them in ; young as he is, those wild forest-men 
 respect and love him as if he were their king. He is never idle 
 one moment ; that, I agree, woidd be too much for me." 
 
 " O, yes ! dear Harold, you would be away from me so 
 mucli." 
 
 " What ! you always want me by your apron-strings, do you, 
 little wife? I think it would be as well to absout myself now 
 and then, just to see how you would welcome me back again." 
 
 "• No, no, Harold, I could not bear it." 
 
 " Well, well, child, do not turn pale ; 1 dare say I shall never 
 be anything better than idle Harold Leigh all my life, witli no 
 other hard work than to wait on your ladyship's wishes. But, 
 Meg, I cannot be in Lord Eriscourl's company without thinking; 
 1 cannot see his energy, activity, and judgment, without asking 
 myself, Where are mine? Avhat am 1 doing? and I, really, 1 
 have no answer to give." 
 
 "You would not be other than you are, my Harold?" said 
 Margaret, half mournfully. 
 
 " Humph I 1 am not SO sure of that, little wife. I think T 
 could not have been formed only to hunt, shoot, fish, and yawn 
 through life." 
 
 Basil was studying Harold's character, and while he did ftdl 
 justice to his frank-liearted, generous disposition, and perceived 
 that llie image he liad inherited IVom (lod was nf»ble and good, 
 Lc also saw the mischief tliat had been done to that character
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 66 
 
 by education. His education had been based on a false founda- 
 tion. His duties had consisted of outward forms and courtesies : 
 these tend to gild a fine character, and are properly the result 
 of Christian principles, the polish of a self-denying, holy life. 
 
 Harold had the gilding, but it had been placed on metal unre- 
 fined, untried in the tire. Beneath the gloss, who could tell 
 what dwelt? 
 
 Basil also saw that in the warmth and fervor of a love like 
 Margaret's, the sense that would have budded forth with blos- 
 som, had nothing eclipsed it, was fast becoming obscured by a 
 feeling that amounted to idolatry. 
 
 It became a character like his to try and make the man who 
 had married the woman he adored, fit to be her husband ; while, 
 in his gentle, brotherly way, he endeavored to open Margaret's 
 eyes to something besides her Harold. 
 
 It was all done so unostentatiously, every right and proper 
 duty was placed before Harold in a manner so pleasing and just, 
 that he returned to Court Leigh with the determination to try 
 and be the worthy, active proprietor of a landed estate. 
 
 Had Margaret encouraged him, the trial might have suc- 
 ceeded. But who kuow better than those who have tried, the 
 difficulties that seem to arise, like mouutains in a night, when 
 you begin what may be considered an act of dvity ? 
 
 Harold soon got disgusted with meddling, as his mother called 
 it, in his own affairs. His steward gave him no encouragement, 
 of course ; rather perplexed than helped him out of his sea of 
 worries. His mother was scandalized at such unheard-of con- 
 duct. Margaret was vexed to see him worried and wearied, 
 while Philip Leigh lauglicd at him. 
 
 No wonder then that Harold relapsed into his old habits, and 
 passed his days in listless idleness, his ideas becoming as torpid 
 as his body. The measure of his disgust at trying to follow 
 Basil's example was completed by Gerald Herbert. 
 
 The active rector of a long-neglected parish, justified by his 
 holy profession to call alike on rich and poor to amend their 
 lives, G-erald Herbert Avas deterred by no feeling of self-interest 
 in declaring unwelcome truths ; still, with all his high-souled 
 zeal,^ his pure and ardent labors, Gerald lacked the gift of per- 
 suasion. 
 
 What was your duty, ought to be done ; no compromise, no 
 weak excuses, no allowance for extra feebleness of will and pur- 
 pose. " Yoio ought " and you " ought not " formed the basis of his 
 creed. 
 
 6*
 
 66 margahet 
 
 Unfllndiing, just, and exact, he gave no heed to ■weaknesses 
 he knew not ; he made no allowance lor failings he could not un- 
 derstand. 
 
 " One sin makes you guilty of all," thus he argued ; and his 
 parishioners, long neglected, and only now hearing what was 
 their duty, grew faint-hearted and wavering under the stern and 
 uncompromising line of conduct he imposed. 
 
 And noiic more so than his patron and their landlord. 
 
 Harold, whose heart opened and whose l)osom expanded at a 
 line of conduct that charmed his sense, had he not been peremp- 
 torily commanded to adopt it, grew stubborn and irritable mider 
 his rector's lash. And Margaret and Millicent sadly learned that 
 unmitigated, happy intercourse was not to be their lot. The two 
 gentlemen only met to quarrel ; that is, Gerald never quarrelled, 
 but he so managed to irritate Harold, that he had but to prefer 
 a request to have it refused. 
 
 Thus the good that Gerald would and could have done, was 
 negatived : Harold grew even more irreligious than he had 
 been ; he required to be beguiled into such feelings, never having 
 been taught to consider it aught but a duty. And thus matters 
 went on, each week adding to the ill effects of the last ; Philip 
 Leigh seeing it all, and assisting the evil for purposes of his 
 own. 
 
 In due course of time, as ]\Iargaret predicted, she had a little 
 Harold ; it was the image of its father. 
 
 CHATTER XVIII. 
 
 "WiiKN Margaret had recovered, she fulfdlcd a oncp-formod in- 
 tention, and invited her schoolmates to pay her a visit. Au- 
 gusta accepted with much and unfeii,nied pleasure. " Her heart 
 and mind bad been satlly torn l)y tlie necessity she had i\-h to 
 break tlirough the strongest ties of love, and separate herself 
 from one who possessed her sole affections, but of whose ])rinci- 
 ples and religious character she could not be siitlstied. Though 
 life was henceforward l)ut a vale of darkness for her, slic deenud 
 it her duty to bear up with fortitude and resignation, and she 
 felt that the society of her loved JNIargaret, and daily communion 
 with the dear Saint Millicent, would prove the only balm that
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 67 
 
 could soothe her. Lotty accepted, on condition that her father 
 was inchided in the invitation, and that a flight of affectionate 
 Beauvillians might now and then be tolerated, in case they felt 
 it impossible to exist without looking after their chief and " the 
 girl." Flory and Carry were abroad, the one on a wedding 
 tour, and the other accompanying her as the happy bridesmaid. 
 
 Lady Katherine much approved of a little company at the 
 great house : it was time Margaret should accustom herself to 
 act the great lady ; though the sight of her school-fellows would 
 not probably impress Margaret with the necessity of much as- 
 sumption of matronly dignity. 
 
 " I am pleased, my dear," said the old lady, " that Miss Clare 
 is coming ; you will do well, Georgina and Charlotte, to take 
 copy by Miss Clare. Her carriage is beautiful, her courtesy 
 quite perfection, her manners blend the dignified with the grace- 
 ful. I do not quite admire your other friend, my dear Mar- 
 garet." 
 
 " My little Lotty ! she is so good. Lady Katherine." 
 
 " So very obliging," chirped Pro. 
 
 " So very kind," said Pru. 
 
 " Charlotte and Georgina, you are led away by appearances ; 
 I, your mother, have said it. Surely the lionored Lady-in-wait- 
 iug of our good queen must know who is most worthy of your 
 notice." 
 
 An idea crossed Margaret's mind that Lady Katherine Avas 
 the victim to appearances : but she had too great an opinion of 
 her mother-in-law to pei'mit such a fancy to remain there. Har- 
 old's mother too ! To the honor of the much-subdued Pru. and 
 Pro., they could not subscribe in their hearts to their mother's 
 judgment in this instance ; this they showed by being silent when 
 Augusta was the subject of conversation. For during the brief 
 period of their intercourse at Margaret's Aveddiug, Augusta had 
 made no secret of her amusement at their expense, and indulged 
 in various unpalatable remarks about old maids, and other mat- 
 ters equally foolish and absurd ; while the little Lotty had proved 
 their frieud on all occasions. And a friend in need she was, for 
 their meek, secluded, quiet ways, were ill fitted to cope with 
 rosy, healthy, happy, intelligent school-life. 
 
 Besides, she was so amusing, and opened to the view of the 
 two quiet women quite a new species of being in the world. 
 Certainly there were few like that same little Lotty. "VYild, ca- 
 pricious, wilful, and passionate, who performed each duty as she 
 did? who thought with such judgment? who mastered the most
 
 68 MARGARET 
 
 abstruse lessons w-ith ciisc, "vvho saw Avliat no one else ever 
 thought of, who was here, there, and everywhere. A midge, a 
 myth, a foiry, yet a Solon, a Norma, a prophetess, — wonderful 
 Lotty ! Well miirht her mother die with the thought in her 
 heart, "What Avill be my little Lotty's fate?" 
 
 Augusta arrived first of the expected guests, and seemed to 
 find immc'diate consolation for tlie sorrows of her wounded 
 heart, ])y discovering so distinguished and desirable a gentleman 
 as Philip Leigh domesticated in the house. Slie at once took 
 possession of his present unoccupied time, declaring that his soul 
 Avas kindred with hers. 
 
 Philip was not disinclined to the flirtation ; for besides think- 
 ing Augusta the handsomest woman he had seen for some time, 
 he had a mind to find out if INIargaret woidd feel the loss of 
 those devoted attentions he had become accustomed to pay her. 
 Augusta's beauty was her only merit ; his clear head and strong 
 sense saw through her weak and vain character before the first 
 evening was over. So, though he continued to amuse himself at 
 her expense, it was merely to see the effect of his experiment. 
 This reason for flirting with Augusta soon vanished, for ere 
 the end of the week Margaret, to his gi*eat disgust, said to 
 him, — 
 
 " I am so glad to see, Philip, that you like Augusta ; it woidd 
 be very nice if you maiTied her ; I should like her to settle near 
 us." 
 
 Philip rode off in dudgeon, and shut himself up at home in a 
 sad, sulky humor. Meantime Lotty and her fine old father ar- 
 rived, attended by a l)iotlier, an luicle. and a kinsman. These 
 latter meant to depart imnu'diately, but Harold's hos]Mtality 
 would not permit of that. It was hard to say which felt the 
 most emotion, as Margaret liiid her little child in her school- 
 husband's arms. *" 
 
 " I know nothing about babies," said Lotty, trying to smother 
 her feelings. 
 
 "Is he not like Harold?" whispered Margaret, as she gazed 
 lovingly on her little fhUd. 
 
 " I would rather he was like you," was the answer. " How- 
 ever, I suppose I shall not hurt him if I kiss him. There, sir, 
 go away ; in a year or two we may be playfellows." 
 
 Rcaliv Court Leigh was not like the same place with tlieso 
 happy, jovial, good-hearted r>(aii\ illiiins in it. Lotty's f'allitr 
 was an invalid, and generally remained in his own room initil 
 the evening. Not that he was ever alone ; sometimes the
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 69 
 
 brother, then the son, and anon the kinsman would be flying np 
 stairs, with eager faces and evident delight, to say that the 
 weather was most beautiful, the Avind in the right quarter. This 
 would be discussed with groat spirit and interest. Then another 
 would appear to say, that at two o'clock Mr. Beauvilliers was to. 
 be ready for his drive ; charioteer, Lotty. This always caused 
 a long discussion, how Avell she drove, who taught her, and 
 other little anecdotes truly Beauvillian. Perhaps the news 
 would be, that so many more flowers had blown, that all the 
 ladies were singing, playing, or working ; but no matter what 
 the news or how trivial, from the hearty jovial way in which it 
 Avas told, it became interesting enough to form matter of history. 
 
 In default of Pliilip, who seemed to have deserted her, Au- 
 gusta took forcible possession of the kinsman Beauvilliers. The 
 son she heard Avas married, the uncle too old ; but this cousin 
 seemed a most suitable stop-gap, Philip being truant ; and he in 
 the most innocent manner fell, as Augusta thought, open-hearted 
 into the trap. He Avas rather more innocent than Augusta cal- 
 culated on ; for she found that unless she entered Avith warm in- 
 terest into all that concerned Lotty and her father, his attentions 
 soon flagged. HoAvever, as he was a fine, handsome specimen 
 of the Beauvillians, she put up Avith a great deal of stupidity 
 from him, and contented laerself Avith snubbing Lotty on all pri- 
 vate occasions, and hating her cordially in her secret lieart. 
 But she Avas not prepared for the folloAving stroke of ill fortune. 
 
 She had beguiled Frank Beauvilliers (such was liis name) in- 
 to a charming stroll under the old oak avenue ; then and there 
 she determined to open upon him the full battery of her charms 
 and amiability. The engaging, pretty Avay in Avhich she took 
 his arm, the innocent, kind look that she bestoAved on him from 
 those beautiful orbs, might Avell deceive a stronger mind than 
 that belonging to an open-hearted Beauvillian. Accordingly he 
 became more communicative and cordial than AA'as usual even 
 AAdth his race ; and said, in ansAver to a very kind look, — 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, indeed, for bringing me 
 here ; I haA-e something on my mind, and you have been so kind 
 and friendly to me, I think I cannot do better than ask your 
 advice." 
 
 '^ I Avill give the best I can Avith the greatest pleasure," said 
 Augusta, not Avithout some wonder : for though she thought her 
 present loA^er an innocent, in the fullest sense of the Avord, she 
 did not think he was so A^ery young as to be about to propose, 
 after a week's acquaintance. ^
 
 70 MARGARET 
 
 " TVhat kind people these are here," said the good Frank, 
 " they are so tlioughtful about Mr. Beauvilliers ; Lady Leigh 
 treats him like a father, and he is as well taken care of here as 
 at home. And then so fond of Lotty : even the old grandlady 
 seems inclined to be kind to her ; and as for the two Miss 
 Leighs, I really think they look upon Lotty as a sister." 
 
 " Very true," said Augusta, in a gi-eater state of amazement 
 than ever. 
 
 " Do you know, Miss Clare, I think I never met with kinder 
 people." 
 
 " They are very kind, certainly, Mr. Frank ; but what has that 
 to do with what you have to confide to me ? " 
 
 " Why, jNIiss Clare, it has a great deal to do with it : I can 
 assure you, yesterday, when Miss Georgina Leigh was talking to 
 me of Lottv, and describing all her goodness, her attentions to 
 her fatlicr, her love for her relations, and then her sense, her wit, 
 
 her cleverness Really, Miss Clare, our girl is a perfect 
 
 wonder ; where she gets all her qualities from I cannot think, 
 xmless it was from her mother, Avho was such a Avoman ! my 
 dear Miss Clare." 
 
 " But what has all this to do with what you have to say to 
 me, Mr. Frank?" put in Augusta, impatiently. 
 
 " Truly 1 beg your ])ardon, Miss Clare, 1 have wandered from 
 the subject certainly ; I always do when I talk of Lotty. How- 
 ever, where was I ? O ! to be sure, just where Miss Georgina 
 was talking to me. Really when she said this, all in that low, 
 quiet voice of hers, I could have taken her hand and kissed it ; 
 I covdd, indeed. Miss Clare ! " 
 
 " But is that all, Mr. Frank, you had to commimicate ?" 
 
 " xSo, not quite, Miss Clare. I wished just to ask your advice ; 
 as a friend of the family, you will perhaps be able to tell me if 
 they would be affronted, if they would tako it amiss, my just 
 telling them my opinion." 
 
 " Of whom, and what, sir?" said Augusta, getting heartily 
 sick of her companion. 
 
 " Of iNIiss Georgina, IVIiss Clare. I should like lo propose for 
 her, she is so fond of our Lotty ; really 1 should like to do some- 
 thing to show ray sincere gratitude ; and if Miss Georgina would 
 but consent to be my wife, I would make her ha])i)iiiess " 
 
 But Augusta liad fled, from what c-iuse the innocent Bcanvil- 
 lian coulil not surmise. Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps a bee 
 had stung lur, and she did nf)t like to inform him ; jx-rliaps she 
 had seen some one she knew in (he distance. At any rate, the
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 71 
 
 worthy Frank ooly wondered at her flight, so long as he was du- 
   bious whom he should select as her successor in his confidence. 
 At first he thought it should be the next person he met. Then 
 it occurred to him, it would be but right towards his chieftain to 
 consult him ; for he felt sure Mr. Beauvilliers would be as 
 anxious as he was himself, that none of them should entertain 
 ideas or wishes that could not instantly be made known to the 
 family. ^ In fact, as a point of honor, Mr. Frank felt that he 
 must dismiss the amiable Georgiua from his thoughts, until he 
 had fully and thoroughly informed her family of his feelings 
 towards her. 
 
 Mr. Beauvilliers proved a much more efficient confidant than 
 Augusta. He not only listened all through with great attention, 
 but joined heartily and cordially in all the digressions on the vir- 
 tues and extraordinary sense of " the girl ; " and when the com- 
 munication was supposed to be fully detailed, he was quite ready 
 to listen to it all over again. 
 
 He duly appreciated Mr. Frank's first motive for bestowing 
 his alFections on the amiable and Lotty-loviug Georgina : and 
 nothing now remained but to call in the Beauvillians, uncle and 
 sou, to participate in the confidence. 
 
 They both fully entered into the matter ; applauded Mr. Frank, 
 and were quite jovial over the expedition with which he had 
 fallen into love, but suggested no great improvements in the 
 manner of proceeding in this delicate matter. 
 
 So Lotty was sent for ; and as they all had anticipated, and 
 told each other it would be, she hit upon the right plan in a mo- 
 ment ; moreover she Avas highly pleased, and so praised Mr. 
 Frank for his judgment and discernment, that he quite blushed. 
 Acting under Lotty's advice, the party proceeded to Lady 
 Katherine's, and having told what appeared to be the united 
 Avishes of the party, asked leave for Mr. Frank to endeavor to 
 make himself agreeable to Miss Georgina. 
 
 Now many mothers, with two daughters verging on thirty 
 years of age, who had never had an offer in their lives, and only 
 that little episode of the curate, nipped peremptorily in the bud, 
 as the nearest approach to a love affair, would have accepted at 
 once, and in haste, this unexpected, most sudden sort of love-at- 
 first-sight offer. 
 
 Not so Lady Katherine ; she took it as a matter of course ; she 
 was thirty herself before she thought of such things, and never 
 dreamed that her daughters would be so unmannerly as not to fol- 
 low her example. But she was very gi-acious, and treated them
 
 72 MARGARET 
 
 to a series of court anecdotes, which might have begun in matri- 
 mony, but certainly did not end in it ; they seemed also likely, 
 by their length and repetition, to extend the interview to mid- 
 night. 
 
 Luckily the dressing-bell reminded her that other matters 
 miirht demand their attention besides listening to her. All Mr. 
 Frank's private atfairs were laid before her, and as they pro\ed 
 very satisfactory, he had permission given him to try and Avin 
 Miss Georgina's atFections. " But on no account," said Lady 
 Ivatheriue, " be prc'cipitatc — the dear young creature nuist not 
 be prematurely alarmed ; he had known lier but a Aveck, so she 
 should Avish that a more lengtiiened period might elapse before 
 he made his proposals in due form ; etiquette demanded it." Mr. 
 Frank scrupulously obeyed Lady Katheriue's comnuiud, and said 
 nothins- of love to the amiable Pro. : but his Beauvilliau descent 
 made it impossible for liim not to betray his Avishes to every per- 
 son in and around tlie place, save the gentle object of his affec- 
 tions ; everybody knew it, everybody Avas consulted, and every- 
 body helped him in his courtship, until he, in the gratitude of 
 his heart, Avished he could have married them all. 
 
 Pro. Avoudered at his attentio;is, but said nothing, only to the 
 mischievous Lotty she might say, " Your cousin, ]Mr. Frank, is 
 a most agreeable man, he has very fine eyes, something like 
 yours, dear Lotty." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PniLrp Lktoit had uoav been shut up for about a fortnight, 
 that is, he had shut liimself up. The dark spirit a\ as upon iiim. 
 He was disgusted Avith himself, and everything around him. He 
 could not understand Lady Leigh's character, it Avas an enigma 
 to him ; he Avas acting like a ])erson in the dark ; he, Avhosc in- 
 tellect conunauded anything, Avas he to be foiled by such simpli- 
 city as hers? 
 
 And yet what Avas the use of his AA'caring himself to death for 
 nothing? two healthy lives, each likely to be longer than his, 
 stood betAveen him and his long-wished-for title. AVliy need he 
 tease and Avorry himself about a thing he could not prevent ? 
 Why I indeed: but it had grown into a habit; it had become 
 aecond ualui'c, amounting almost to monomania.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 73 
 
 He was growing tired of himself and his thoughts, they were 
 so mean and contemptible ; but where was he to go ? what was 
 he to do ? There was no amusement in flirting with Miss Clare. 
 Like a moth hurrjang around a candle, she would only flutter 
 about him to her own detriment ; for as to marrying a woman of 
 that stamp, why, he would sooner quit the world at once, no 
 matter how. As he meditated in this desultory way, Philip 
 heard shrieks, prolonged and shrill. 
 
 A few bounds brought him to his own entrance gate, where 
 was chained a large bloodhound. Supported by a young girl, was 
 the lady of his late thoughts, Miss Clare, and from her ruby lips 
 came the fearful shrieks. 
 
 "Miss Clare, my dear Miss Clare ! what is the matter?" he 
 cried. 
 
 " The dog, O ! that fearful dog ! " screamed Augusta. 
 
 " Hush? " said her companion, " do you not see the hound is 
 chained up ? " 
 
 The speaker was shaded from Philip's sight by a large hat ; 
 she was also half smothered by Augusta's larger, fuller figure. 
 
 " Come, Miss Clare, be pacified ; as your little friend says, the 
 hound is chained up," said Philip. 
 
 " Will you protect me?" gasped Augusta. 
 
 " Certainly ! take my arm." 
 
 " But I am so faint and ill." 
 
 " Can you walk as far as my house?" 
 
 " What ! and pass that savage beast ! O ! never." 
 
 " Come, Augusta, don't be foolish," said her companion, pet- 
 tishly ; " as if a dog like that Avould harm you." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Pliilip, " Miss Clare is so far right, 
 the dog is a very savage one ; but he cannot harm her now, 
 being securely chained." 
 
 " A hound like that is only dangerous when chained up," said 
 the straw hat ; " if suffered to be at large, he would be more 
 gentle than a lap-dog." 
 
 " You are mad ! child," said Augusta, " talking in that foolish 
 way ; such a beast would tear you limb from limb." 
 
 " It is not safe, I believe, to go near him," said Philip. 
 
 As he spoke the little girlish figure walked straight up to the 
 hound, and patting him on the head, stood leaning against him. 
 Then, taking off her hat, she put it playfully on the dog's head, 
 Avhile she ran her little white fingers through her dark curls ; 
 and as they divided Avith the touch, Philip saw for the first time 
 Charlotte Beauvilliers. 
 7
 
 74 MARGARET 
 
 He deemed her some rare, old picture, descended from its 
 frame, ■walkiag about the world to show what unstudied beauty 
 was. 
 
 Lotty certainly was very pe^^7e ; though the Beauvillians had 
 assured each other she would grow, yet she only did a very little. 
 
 But it was !?uch a pretty, little, light, elastic figure, so rounded 
 and well-proportioned, so supple and graceful ; the little, lovely 
 throat so stately and erect, and shown to such advantage by the 
 small, well-folded down white collar. 
 
 Lotty had the Beauvillian mouth and nose, the latter bending 
 down with a slight approach to a IJoman nose, meeting the shoi-t 
 upper lip with a curve to match ; both seemed to be in perfect 
 keeping with the full rosy lip below — putting the gazer in mind 
 of the pictures of Sir Jot^hua Reynolds's children, but without their 
 archness ; for Avhile in his pictures the pointed chin seemed but 
 the continuation of the curved mouth and nose, Lotty's was full 
 and roinid, giving a decision and firmness to her couutenance, 
 that the upper part of her face fully bore out. 
 
 Clear, brilliant eyes, without a shadow in them, looked full at 
 Philip. No ti'iumph, no exultation in them, merely the calm, 
 searching gaze of an intelligent mind. 
 
 He stood transfixed, at a loss what to say ; but his whole 
 heart occupied in looking at the picture before him. The beau- 
 tiful, dark bloodhound, and the white robed, childish figure, how 
 lovely they looked, thus grouped together. 
 
 " Now, Augusta, you (?an pass ; I will keep the dog quiet as 
 you go by," said Lotty at last. 
 
 " You will be killed, you foolish child I and you will be rightly 
 served," was Augusta's answer. 
 
 Lotty put her hand under the hound's mouth, and lifting it up, 
 looked steadily into the deep-set eyes ; then putting her lips to 
 his shaggy forehead, she laughed, and said, — 
 
 " He is as (piiet as an old sheep." 
 
 " It is wonderful," said Philip, .at last, " the power you seem 
 to have over hint ; he is generally a most savage animal." 
 
 "That is because you chain liini up; if lie was my dog he 
 should be as free as air, poor felhjw I " 
 
 " AVill you accept him? you will oblige me much if you will 
 allow me the [)leasure of ju'esenting him to you." 
 
 " I should like to have him very nuuih," said Lotty, frankly ; 
 *' he is the most splendid fellow I ever saw ; he seems quite 
 young too, and has not lost his puppy coal." 
 
 " 1 sluiU be delighteil to give so line an animal to one so 
 worthy to possess him," was the courteous reply.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 75 
 
 " Then I may loose him? " 
 
 " ! dou't ; don't for mercy's sake ! " said Augusta ; "I shall 
 die if you do ! " 
 
 " Pray, Miss Clare, come up to my small abode, and have 
 some restoratives after your long walk and alarm. Then, while 
 you are resting, the hound can be loosed, and get over his first 
 transports before you return." 
 
 " But what is his name? " asked the new possessor. 
 
 " Bear," said Philip. 
 
 " Bear ! " repeated Lotty, rather confusedly. 
 
 " Ah ! what a good name," said Augusta ; " it is her own, Mr. 
 Leigh, great Bear and little Bear." 
 
 " I cannot conceive how your young friend can deserve such a 
 name as Bear." 
 
 " O ! but she does, and I will prove it to you as we walk to 
 your house. Come, little Bear." 
 
 " No, I thank you, I am not fatigued, and want no refresh- 
 ment ; I shall stay here and make acquaintance with my new 
 friend ; " and turning to Philip, " I thank you, sir, very much 
 for such a gift ; I shall value it highly, and you may rest assured 
 I will be a kind mistress to him, though at present I must ask 
 you for a small switch, as he might prove too rough in his first 
 use of liberty." 
 
 " I do not like to leave you quite alone with him," said Philip. 
 " I will return shortly, when I have pjaced Miss Clare in the 
 hands of my housekeeper." 
 
 When Philip returned, the great Bear was loose, indulging in 
 the wildest gambols, and the little Bear was standing on a great 
 stone, watching him with delight. Philip stood and looked at 
 her, without her being conscious of his return. 
 
 " Bear ! Bear ! " she cried. The hound bounded towards her. 
 " Down, Bear, down ! no rudeness, you beautiful fellow ! kiss 
 me. Bear ! now be good and be oif again." 
 
 " Bear! Bear! " again she cried. This time he was disobe- 
 dient, and she stamped her little foot and shook her little switch, 
 calling " Bear," in a peremptory manner, until he came slowly 
 and deprecatingly, his loving eyes glancing furtively at the little 
 switch, the little hand, the little childish figure. " Naughty 
 Bear ! disobedient ! go, Lotty does not love you." 
 
 Philip could have watched her for hours ; the quick grace of 
 her movements, the sweet thrilling voice, the beautiful healthful 
 face, glowing and happy, and her dress so picturesque and quaint. 
 The large hat with its long drooping white feather, the cool
 
 76 5IARGARET 
 
 dress with its little tijrlit fitting jacket, showius: the white plaited 
 cliemisette and round collar, the dainty little hoots ; she was a 
 perfect picture. 
 
 " Well, liave you made Bear pretty ohedient 'i " 
 
 " Yes, I think so. Do you know, I am very much obliged to 
 you, for I has e lung AvantiMl a dog like this ; are you quite certain 
 you can part with Iiini willingly? " 
 
 " Quite certain to you ; hut pray may I ask the name of the 
 fortunate Bear's mistress?" 
 
 " You heard Miss Clare call me Bear too." 
 
 " But I presume I may not call you Miss Bear? " 
 
 " Yt.u are welcome to do so if you wish it : but now we must 
 return home, having a long way to walk." 
 
 "Miss Clare says she is too nuich fatigued to walk back. I 
 liave therefore offered to drive her to Court Leigh. Will you 
 also favor me with your company. Miss Bear? " 
 
 " Ah, I knew very well when she asked me this morning to 
 take a long walk, she would never be able to accomplish it ; 
 however, come she would : I suppose she had a pui-jiose. Per- 
 liaps it was to see you, as you seem old friends." 
 
 " I do not presume to think so, Miss Bear, I assure you ; but 
 will you not return with me to the house ? " 
 
 '' No, I thank you, I walked here and can walk back. Good 
 morning, and thank you. Come, Bear." 
 
 And lufore l*liilip couhl say anf»fher word, the great Bear and 
 the little Bear were careering along the meadows, utterly regard- 
 less that they were leaving tlie conqiany of tlu' handsome, witty, 
 talented, courlftl I'iiilip Leigii ; for auglit they seemed to care, he 
 might have been ugly, stupid, and a grandfather. 
 
 Cll A 1' r !•: li X X . 
 
 Piiii.ti" endeavored to elicit something from Miss Clare, on 
 tlirir drive home, regarding her little eompaiiion. "Wlio is the 
 child that was willi you?" said he, lie saw into llie depths of 
 Augustii's heart as well as thoiiirh he were there, and knew that 
 he nhoiild gain no information if he showed -,\\\y greal interest in 
 the matter. 
 
 " O I little Bear ; she is a .sort of school-fellow of mine."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 77 
 
 " And what is her name, and how came such a little uncon- 
 genial companion with you, Miss Clare ? " 
 
 " Yes, is she not a little absurdity? Poor child! I believe 
 she has been badly brought up, or, at all events, has no mother, 
 only tribes of male relations, and they have made a little groom 
 of her." 
 
 " I dare say she will be passable-looking when she grows up." 
 Philip privately thought her the prettiest body he had ever seen. 
 
 " I believe she is grown up ; at all events she has left 
 school." 
 
 " Where is she abiding now, that you happened to be in her 
 company ? " 
 
 " O, she is a wonderful friend of Margaret's. How it hap- 
 pened I don't know, but they have sworn a never-to-die friend- 
 ship, and they are as unlike each other as I am perhaps." 
 
 Here Augusta looked bewitchingly at Philip, who answered 
 as was expected, — " Like you. Miss Clai-e ! pray what possible 
 thing on earth can be likened to you ? " 
 
 Then followed sundry little interesting passages in the true art 
 of flirting, which cannot be described, as the initiated know that 
 words are not so expressive as looks on such occasions. 
 
 However, Philip having done what he considered his duty, 
 continued, — " \Vliat is the name of your little friend?" 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Augusta, pettishly, " how much you seem 
 interested about that girl : her name is Lotty, and she is staying 
 at Court Leigh with her father, and some rough uncouth sorts 
 of men relations. If you stay to dinner — and you are sure to 
 be asked — you will learn all about this pet of yours. But I 
 know you won't stay to dinner, just to provoke me. I declare, 
 if I am to be moped to death, as I have been for the last fort- 
 night, I shall go home." 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Clare, pray don't darken our hemisphere by such 
 a thought. Now that we have seen the sun, can we exist should 
 it leave us ? " 
 
 Philip continued in this strain until the drive came to an end, 
 mentally resolving to indemnify himself by staying to dinner if 
 he were asked. Though he did not suppose the little school-girl 
 ♦' Bear " would appear in full company, he thought he might 
 chance to get a glimpse of her in the evening. 
 
 The quiet coolness with which she had walked up to the 
 
 hound in spite of his warning, the unsophisticated delight with 
 
 which she had taken possession of Bear, without fear, without 
 
 nonsense of any kind, just suited his taste. " I wish the child 
 
 7*
 
 78 MARGARET 
 
 was fx little older," thou<;ht he. There would bo some pleasure 
 iu bending that little iudomiluble spirit to one's will ; making 
 Buch a little wilful thing iu love with one. Unlike some one 
 who .«hall bi' iianieless, but who is unfortunately dose by at pre- 
 eent, unlike thi- luvcly, lovesick Margaret, milike the gentle, 
 quiet Milliocnt. The first, did I marry her, I should beat in a 
 week ; the second would pall me with sweetness ; the third, I 
 should respect and admire, but wicked human nature like mine 
 is not given to love such saintlike goodness." 
 
 I'hili]) Leigh was warmly welcomed back again, and woidd 
 have been forcibly detained to dinner, had he not already con- 
 sented to remain. 
 
 As all were assembled for dinner, Philip stood, his fine figure 
 erect, his handsome face, culm and proud, -witii the (piiet disdain 
 in iiis diwk eyes that was usual there. He had been introduced 
 to three Mr. Beauvilliers, all bearing their honest, kind natures 
 in their countenances and appearance. 
 
 He was watching the amiable goodness Avith Avhich one of 
 them was devoting himself to the amusement of Pro., when 
 the door opened, and unmistakably a fourth ISIr. Beauvilliers 
 appeared. The likeness to the others was palpable ; though an 
 aged and white-haired man, they seemed but as .shadows in his 
 presence ; for a more magnificent specimen of a fine old English 
 gentleman I'hilip had never seen. And leaning his large, 
 powerful hand on tlic dimpled shoulder of a little figure by his 
 side, IMiilij) could scarcely believe, at first, that he saw before 
 him the little Bear, and the occupier of his thoughts. 
 
 " Miss Beauvilliers and ]\Ir. Beauvilliers," said Harold, intro- 
 ducing them ; " my cousin, Philip Leigh." 
 
 It was a habit of the Beauvillians always to shake hands on 
 an introduction, a good hearty shake ; and l*liilip's hand was in 
 that jiowerfid gr;isp, without his having withdrawn his eyes 
 Irom tlie little fairy figure. 
 
 " You are the gentleman who has been so kind as to give my 
 Lotty a very valual)le present. Tliank ye, sir, thank ye ; shake 
 liancls, Lotty, and let me hear you say thank ye, too," said her 
 father. 
 
 Lotty laid her little tiny hand for a moment in Piiilip's, who 
 coulil hardly believe he lield anything, after her father's gigantic 
 grasp. Then saying, in a soft, but clear voicu', " 'I'liank you, 
 Mr. L(!igh," she put the great hand on lier shoulder again, and 
 guided her father's feeble feet to a large chair iu the window. 
 There was no look of the chil<i about her now.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 79 
 
 " Do you know," said Philip, after dinner, when he had con- 
 trived to get a seat near her, " I took you for a little girl." 
 
 " I suppose no one would consider me a big one," answered 
 Lotty. 
 
 " I mean," said Philip, rather put out by her ansAver, " that 
 I really thought you were a child. If I had known that you 
 were Miss Beauvilliers, I should have treated you with greater 
 respect." 
 
 " And ought not children to have polite treatment as well as 
 ladies ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, certainly they ought ; but Miss Clare so 
 puzzled me about you, I fear I ran into great mistakes, and 
 must beg you will grant me forgiveness." 
 
 " If I find no fault, I do not see Avhy you need be peni- 
 tent." 
 
 " I will forgive myself, then, for having fallen into such an 
 error. But permit me to ask, did you reach home in safety? 
 did Bear behave as so noble a dog should, transferred to such 
 lovely hands ? " 
 
 " We arrived in safety, and I make no doubt Bear will 
 be much happier with me than you, for he will have his 
 liberty." 
 
 " You have been here a fortnight, have you not? and I never 
 knew it ; what a dolt I have been," said Philip. 
 
 " Perhaps so. But I do not know you sufficiently well to 
 assent to your judgment as yet," replied Lotty. 
 
 " Surely you can see that I consider myself a dolt, for having 
 deprived myself, for one whole fortnight, of an introduction to 
 you," continued Philip, trying his usual style of conversation 
 with Augusta. 
 
 " I think it was unlucky for Bear ; but as for you and I, I do 
 not suppose we shall care for each other at the end of a fortnight, 
 more than we do now." 
 
 " Nay, Miss Beauvilliers, you ai-e unkind to me. May I not 
 look forward to being favored with your esteem, and then per- 
 haps regard, if I prove worthy of such friendship?" 
 
 Those large, clear, brilliant eyes looked full into his. The 
 scrutiny seemed satisfactory. 
 
 " I am not likely to think with indifference of the person who 
 has given me so great a pleasure as the possession of Bear. But 
 here is my father coming, and Miss Clare has been looking at 
 you for the last hour, wondering how you can prefer such child- 
 ish company to hers."
 
 80 MARGARET 
 
 She was at the door ere lie could stop her. It opened, Mr. 
 Beauvilliers was there as she said. " Ah, my darling ! " the 
 fond father eriod, '' as usual, always ready. 1 came so quietly ; 
 but no. I cannot move, but my Lotty hears." The massive 
 liand U-aned on the little, slight girl, and when ])laccd in his 
 chair, with Lotty on the arm of it, Thilip saw he could hope for 
 no further word from the little Bear ; so he talketTto Augusta, 
 and looked at Lotty, and was not unhappy. 
 
 It was a sight to see the father and daughter together. Lotty 
 seemed to feel intuitively when her father wanted his cushions 
 changed, wliich fuot he would like placed on the footstool, what 
 subject he most affected to converse upon ; while at no time did 
 the line, massive old frame move, but the large hand rested on 
 the slight figure, sometimes on the round little ivory shoulder, 
 sometimes on the rich waving curls, but at all times it felt its 
 treasure witliin its grasp. 
 
 There sat Lotty like a little queen, her radiant eyes speaking 
 straight into the heart — " I know my duty, and I love it, and 
 fulfil it ; " and the loving Beauvillians would sit round, and pay 
 her the homage she deserved. 
 
 And they seemed to have brought the blessing of their fine 
 frank natures on the dull old house of Court Leigh, Harold 
 was no longer morose or mdiappy, or inclined to quarrel with 
 Gerald ; ^largaret was as beaming and smiling as the haj)piest 
 wife and mother could be. Lady Katherine stepped Ibrth from 
 out of her courtly state manners, in a way quite astonishing to 
 those who knew her. The ice of reserve and etiquette was 
 thawing under the genial glow of the Beauvilliers. 
 
 As for Pru. and Pro., for the first time in their lives they felt 
 young; and when Bru. (having had that little curate experi- 
 ence, several times mcntitjned before) suggested to l*ro., that 
 ^Ir. Frank really seemed very ]i;irii(ular in his attentions; the 
 gentle Pro. bluslied, and the l)hish remained on her somewhat 
 faded cheek, gi\ ing her so pretty a bloom, that Mr. Frank grew 
 quite rampant for the days of his prf)bation to be over. 
 
 Gerald's uncompromising sternness gave way before the 
 heartv good will of the Beauvilliers. 
 
 '• >Sly drar sir," said the fine old sfpiire, when GeraM, in tlic 
 flush of his anxious heart, to do good to all who came in his 
 way, ofj'ered to read ai\d talk daily with him — (for the days of 
 this a>:ed pilgrim were numbered, as he himself knew full well) 
 — " My dear sir, God be merciful to me a sinner. At my age, 
 with the seeds of a mortal disease within me, it does not become
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 81 
 
 me to inquire into any new creed, or way of worshipping God. 
 I ask myself, Have I done ray duty well? and I can only 
 answer, To the best of my ability, I have tried." 
 
 " But, my dear sir, you must confess before God that you are 
 a miserable, blind, poor, lost sinner. Do you feel the need of 
 a Saviour ? " 
 
 " I do not feel the need. I feel I have him ; God be thanked 
 for the peace and calm of my closing years." 
 
 " That, I am afraid, is not sufficient. We must purge out 
 the old man with fasting, prayer, and penitence ; we must not 
 leave a single sin unexposed, unconfessed. Ah ! my dear sir, 
 think of the beatitude of such a state of sinless repose." 
 
 " Every man, my dear Mr. Herbert, must not expect such 
 a lot, or where would be the need of the Saviour? I am apt 
 to think now, at the end of the days of my pilgrimage, that 
 this, our state, is not so much to attain perfection, as to work 
 the daily task of human life, by which we may be rewarded 
 with perfection." 
 
 " I see what you mean, Mr. Beauvilliers ; but such an error 
 is dangerous, most dangerous." 
 
 " It will be dangerous for my father to sit here any longer in 
 this draught, Gerald," would Lotty say ; " so while I take him 
 into the house, go and preach to Augusta, or some other great 
 sinner." 
 
 Then would Gerald look grave, and perhaps rebuke Lotty 
 for being flippant, who would answer gravely back again, — 
 
 " I am ready to confess, and be sorry." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Mr. Frank's days of probation were over. Lady Katherine 
 having graciously condescended to say that the time deemed fit 
 by propriety, decorum, and courtly example, being fulfilled, he 
 was at liberty to make his proposals to Miss Georgina herself. 
 And in furtherance of such object, she said to the astonished 
 Pro.,— 
 
 " Get your parasol, and take a turn with Mr. Frank under 
 the walnut trees." 
 
 Certainly this was rather a public place for such a circum-
 
 82 MARGARET 
 
 Stance, inasmuch as the avenue was commanded from every 
 ■window in her house, as welh as those of Court Lcigli. 
 
 I'ro. never dreamt of disobeyinjr, and Mr. Frank, ibrtified 
 with various powerful shakes of the hand from his kinsmcTi, 
 and many good wishes for his success, departed with ihe ami- 
 able object of his affections at a decorous distance from his 
 side. 
 
 Most men would have been nervous had they supposed them- 
 selves to be under the surveillance of many curious eyes (though 
 no words coidd be heard), in such delicate circumstances; but 
 it was a peculiarity of the Beauvilliaus that they couhl do noth- 
 ing in secret or alone. Therefore, Mr. Frank tliought with 
 pleasure and satisfaction of the eager and anxious Beauvillian 
 eyes that would be scanning his every action, as he took this 
 eventful walk. 
 
 Lady Kutherine also took her station at her window, that she 
 might be able to judge with her own eyes that the proposal was 
 made and accepted according to the strictest rules of etiquette. 
 Pro. herself was the only unconscious person in all these base 
 plots, and went, perhaps a little fluttered, but quite an innocent 
 victim to her destiny. 
 
 They walk about a yard apart. 
 
 Mr. Frank bows. 
 
 •' lie is beginning," say the eager Beauvillians. from their 
 windows. 
 
 " Very respectful," thinks Lady Kathcrine, from her window. 
 
 Pro. starts, and Mr. Frank ])ows lower. 
 
 '• lie is in full cry." exclaim his sympatlietic kinsmen. 
 
 " Poor child ! how fluttered she will be," murmurs Lady 
 Katherine. 
 
 Pro. stops short, tiien starts again, as if about to run away. 
 Mr. Frank j)]aces himsell" lielbre iier, and bows lower than ever. 
 
 "He is well <iii the scent," cry the Beauvillian windows. 
 
 " I almost think lie is at this moment proposing," says the 
 other window. 
 
 Pro. drops her parasol, and attempts to grasp at it. Mr. 
 Frank lakes the extended hand in his. 
 
 " Bravo. Frank I tliat's the way ; you have her now ! " cry the 
 Beauvillians. 
 
 " O ! " gasps Lady Katherine ; she half thought she must 
 phut her eyes, but her anxiety to see that all was conducted 
 with the strictest propriety, made her look more vigilantly thau 
 ever.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 83 
 
 Pro. puts her handkerchief to her eyes ; Mr. Frank bows 
 lower than ever, so lov/, indeed, that surely he is kissing her 
 hands. 
 
 " 'Tis done ! she's won ! " shouted the Beauvillians. 
 
 " O ! O ! O dear ! " cries Lady Katherine, and vanishes 
 from the window, for fear he should do it again, or something 
 worse. 
 
 Mr. Frank was seen to draw the lady's arm within his, in 
 a very tender and gallant manner, then picking up the parasol, 
 he bore oiF his prize to a more shady and secluded walk. Not, 
 however, without giving his hat a sort of flourish in the air, 
 which was the sign agreed upon to denote his complete success, 
 ere they disappeared. 
 
 Though all the Beauvillians were impatient to the last degree 
 to shake Mr. Frank's hand off in hearty congratulations, and to 
 bestow kinsmanly salutes upon the bride-elect's cheek, it was 
 deemed only right and kind to_ send Lotty first, for fear she 
 should be overcome ; the loving little Lotty, who, by winning 
 the gentle Pro.'s heart, had inspired Mr. Frank with such a 
 prodigious idea of her sense and discernment. 
 
 Lotty met them after an hour's absence. Mr. Frank was like 
 a sunflower ; so broad and expansive was his triumphant de- 
 light. Pro. had shrunk between bashfulness and bewilderment 
 into such a shred, that she was quite hidden behind the glowino- 
 Mr. Frank. 
 
 " How do you do, dear Cousin Georgina ? " said Lotty, 
 smiling. 
 
 " O ! dear," cried Pro., getting quite limp and damp, with a 
 sudden gush of tears ; " how very nice ! and you, darling Lotty, 
 is it true that we shall be cousins ? Dear ! dear ! how am I 
 ever to believe this wonderful thing ! " 
 
 " I knew you would be pleased, dearest Georgina," said 
 the gallant Mr. Frank, " at being Lotty 's cousin. I felt more 
 certain that you would accept me on that account than any 
 other." ^ 
 
 " Yes, indeed," answered Pro., innocently ; " you are very 
 kind to say so, Mr. Frank, that is just it. But, indeed, I ought 
 to say, that you — that is all — in fact, my sister and I think 
 there never was any family like yours, dear Lotty, for goodness 
 and kindness." 
 
 "May you ever think so, dear, sweet Georgina," exclaimed 
 Mr. Frank, pressing her hand so tenderly, that Pro. grew quite 
 nervous, and looked helplessly at Lottyto relieve her.
 
 84 MARGARET 
 
 " I thank you also, cousiu Georgina," said Lotty, " and I 
 am suix- you will Hud out .shortly, of all the Bcauvilliaus, there 
 is no one !?o good as cousin Frank." 
 
 " Shall I, indeed?" said the innocent Pro. 
 
 " Yes, that you will. See how Margaret loves Harold ; that's 
 just the way you will love Frank, and be running alter hiui all 
 day in the same silly manner." 
 
 "No alleetion that my Georgina deigns to bestow on me, 
 dear Lotty, will be tlirown away, as you know," replied Mr. 
 Frank. 
 
 " Well, that being clearly an-anged, I think you two ought 
 to go to Lady Katherine, to get kissed and blessed. After that, 
 you know, cousin Georgina, you must take to loving Frank 
 instead of me, and 1 shall expect in a few days to hear you 
 calling out at the top of your voice, 'My darling Frank.'" 
 
 " I shall ever love you, dear Lotty. in my heart of hearts," 
 whispered the hall-smiling, hall-crying Pro. 
 
 The whole of that evening was spent quite as an April day. 
 "When the l>Lauvillians took the lead, the sun seemed to shine 
 out in the most refulgent manner ; when Lady Katherine spoke, 
 little gentle drippings of rain jjoured down, in the shape of tears, 
 from herself, Pru. and Pro. 
 
 On the whole it was a most exciting evening ; but Lotty Avas 
 not prepared when she went to their room to wish her new 
 cou.sin good night, to fmd the two sisters in convulsions of 
 grief. 
 
 " Ilovday ! " said Lotty, " what is the matter, that you are 
 howling like two naughty children?" 
 
 " We have never been separated," sobbed Pru. 
 
 " I only wish Ghailotte couM marry too," sighed J*ro. 
 
 "I see' not the slightest objection to thai," said Lotty; "■ 1 
 will send for another of my cousins, or one of my brothers." 
 
 '• O, no, no I that won't do," cried Pdi. 
 
 " I don't know, Charlotte, l>ut J think ii might," said Pro. 
 
 ' O, no, no ! " again cried Pr u. 
 
 With a great deal of tioiiblc ami difliculty, Lotty was at last 
 marie aware that ihei-e was once a curate. 
 
 '• Wfll 1 so there are now," said Lotty, " numbers, if Char- 
 lotte wants to marry a clergyman. I don't think any of our 
 j)eople are in that line, IVo." 
 
 " Put it was not any curate ; it was one, one in particular." 
 
 And till- ildi rly but most siniplc-lieartcd Pru. ])ounMl forth tlie 
 long-chfrisheil secret of her heart into the unsympalhiziug bosom 
 of the lilllc girli.sh mischief, Lotly.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 85 
 
 Q 
 
 " Well, don't cry so. If he is half worthy of you, he is still 
 unmarried." 
 
 "Yes, I know he is," sobbed Pru., that makes me so — so — 
 so " the rest of the sentence was lost in a burst of grief. 
 
 " Now do cheer up, Pru., and listen to reason. When Pro. is 
 married and settled, she could have you to visit her ; then she 
 could ask the curate, and then you would meet. Now, what 
 could be nicer than that ? " 
 
 "And I tvill ask him, dear Charlotte; and Mr. Frank, I 
 know, will help me, and ask him too, and then, perhaps, as dar- 
 ling Lotty says, it will all turn out so nicely." 
 
 But Pru. still wept sorely. 
 
 " Now, Pru,, you are naughty," said Lotty, with great 
 ferocity, knitting her brows, and looking as bearish as she could. 
 " Here is your sister so happy, going to marry a Beauvilliers, 
 and he my cousin, and you are weeping like Niobe." 
 
 " We have never been separated before, dear Lotty," sobbed 
 Pru., jerking out her words between each sob. 
 
 " I am sure if the law would alloAv it, Frank would marry you 
 both if he could. But as it won't, you must make up your mind 
 to Pro.'s loss." 
 
 "I — I — ca'-a'-an't, dea-e-ar Lo-otty ! " 
 
 " I will not marry then, dearest Charlotte," said Pro. ; "I 
 will never leave you." 
 
 " There," said Lotty, indignantly, " there, what a fine speci- 
 men of sisterly affection I see before me. Two fond and loving 
 hearts separated, because you are so selfish, Charlotte ? " 
 
 " O, O, O, do'-o'-o'-n't, dear Lotty ! " 
 
 " Made miserable forever ; perhaps they will both pine away 
 and die, and then when Pro. is the bride of death, as novels say, 
 what will you do then, you unkind Charlotte ? " 
 
 " O, I am so sorry, I will say no more ; dear Lotty ! pray 
 forgive me. Dear, dear Georgina, take my best wishes for your 
 happiness." 
 
 " Now, that's a good girl. And when you see Pro. so happy, 
 acting her very self in her new home, and doing the civil and 
 polite to you when you pay her a visit, think how delighted you 
 will be ; and you will say to yourself, ' I consented to the 
 marriage. Great as was the sacrifice, I helped to make my Pro. 
 thus happy.' " 
 
 Warmed by this glowing description, Pru. di'ied her eyes, and 
 permitted herself to be comforted. 
 8
 
 86 MARGARET 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Philip Leigh no longer shut himself up. On the contrary, 
 he "was never at home. A master-passion had taken possession 
 of his soul, under the inilueuce of which the long nourished, 
 flourishiiiL' plaiit of envy and malice withered and shrank until 
 it appeari'd to die. 
 
 lie kept up a semblance of attentions to Augusta. In fact, 
 she demanded them, and was one of those helpless exigeante sorts 
 of young ladies wlio immediately they see any specimen of the 
 male species near them, become in instant want of a thousand 
 little indispensable absurdities. 
 
 Philip Avould watcli tlie woman-child with his quiet, thought- 
 ful eyes, while lie administered to Augusta's many little wishes, 
 the non-tulHlmcnt of which seemed to threaten her with immedi- 
 ate destruction. 
 
 " O, Mr. Leigh ! I have been dying for you to arrive, and 
 play billiards with me ; and if you don't come immediately 
 I shall expire with impatience." 
 
 " Pray don't, Miss Clare," returne(l Pliilip, " as I shall be un- 
 der the necessity of acting chief mourner." 
 
 "And would you not grieve for me?" murmured Augusta, 
 laying a stress on the personal pronoun, nominative case. 
 
 " I ft-ar I should be quite insensible to anything, Miss Clare," 
 said Philip, catching Lotty's amused glance at Augusta's delight- 
 ed assumption of the one meaning, and utter unconsciousness of 
 tlic f>tli('r and more jialpable one. 
 
 "Don't you think so. Miss lieauvillic-rs? " continued Philip, 
 who never lost an o])pf)rtunity of provoking Lotty to talk. 
 
 " You ought to b(!," answered Lotty, drily. 
 
 "And ])ray, child, what can you know about such things? 
 You are as ba<l as Mr. Herbert with your 'oughts,'" said 
 Augusta. 
 
 "As * ;.'ii(id' would have been more appro])riatc, Augusta." 
 
 "() I we are geltin;.' better, are we? We are going to church 
 to early prayers " 
 
 " No, not going," said Lottv. 
 
 " I am sure I am di-voutly glad to hear it," said Augusta, with 
 as near an approach to a sneer as her j)retly iace would allow. 
 
 " 'Tis ns well to be devout about some things," said the imper- 
 turbable L<jtty.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 87 
 
 " But you are devoutly thankful for nothing, Miss Clare," said 
 Philip. "Miss Beauvilliers only said she was not going to early 
 prayers. Now she may have gone." 
 
 " O, the little Puseyite ! Pray take me away, Mr. Leigh ; I 
 shall be contaminated. Little absurd Bear ! I shall tell your 
 father, and get you put into the corner." Lotty raised her eyes 
 and looked at the fond old father. As she caught his glance, a 
 look of such unutterable love and fondness broke over her face, 
 that Philip was quite startled. 
 
 In a moment she was on the arm of the old cushioned chair, 
 the large, loving hand was on her dark curls ; she looked like a 
 little pearl gleaming in the clasp of a grand, old, hoary Neptune. 
 
 What a protean little thing it was — never two minutes the 
 same. Staid, womaulv, and tlious-htful in all that concerned her 
 father ; wild, laughing, and childish with Pru. and Pro. ; clever, 
 witty, and sensible with Margaret and Millicent ; sharp, irascible, 
 and sarcastic with Aiigusta and Philip ; and in each and every- 
 thing the most bewitching little fairy that ever crossed mortal 
 eye. 
 
 It was a most lovely summer day, so much so, that when 
 Philip appeared for his now daily visit, he found the whole party, 
 including even Mr. Beauvilliers, out under the trees, all employed 
 in different ways. Augusta called the visitor to her side, saying, 
 " Mr. Leigh, I have kept this place for you." 
 
 Philip surveyed them all. Lady Katherine had a tree to her- 
 self, knotting away with diligent industry at what was of no use 
 in the world, as she had already by her the life-labors of herself 
 and daughters at this interesting work, almost all in an unappro- 
 priated state. Millicent and Margaret had the next tree, Harold 
 half dozing on the grass by Margaret's side, and half interested 
 in a French novel. Little Harold lay sleeping between them. 
 No wonder, therefore, that Margaret's cheek glowed and her soft 
 eyes sparkled — she had all she loved within her touch. 
 
 A little out of the line, but in full sight of Lady Katherine, 
 sat Mr. Frank and the gentle Georgina, she pretending to knot, 
 and he pretending to help her. Pro. was fast losing her name. 
 Under the influence of the Beauvillian bonhommie, Mr. Frank 
 had absolutely saluted his bride elect, and that in the presence of 
 Lofty ; but, however, no one told Lady Katherine. Pru., 
 Augusta, and Philip were under another tree ; not far from 
 them was Mr. Beauvilliers's chair, on the arm of which was 
 perched the Little Bear — Great Bear serving as a cushion for 
 the old gentleman's feet.
 
 88 MARGARET 
 
 Presently the Little Bear slid down, and pulling the Great 
 Boar bv his cars, with many fond and loving^ epithets, she SO ar- 
 ranged hina, as to change Mr. Beanvilliers's position. 
 
 *•' Tlianks, my darling ! — thanks ! that has eased me gi'catly," 
 said the fond father. 
 
 '' How yon do tease that dog, Lotty ! " cried Angnsta. 
 
 '• Do 1 tease yon, my liear ! " asked the childisli Lotty, as she 
 kissed him ; and his great red tongue licked her little white 
 hand. 
 
 Great Bear looked up a loving, intelligent answer from his 
 deep-set eyes. 
 
 '• Dear Lotty tease anything ! " cried Pru., quite in a flush. 
 *' O, no, Augusta ! " 
 
 ^' She does ! She is the most thoughtless, heedless child that 
 ever was ! You did very wrong, Mr. Leigh, to trust your fine 
 dog to her," continued Angnsta. 
 
 Mr. Beauvillicrs laid his hand on the pretty head. " Yes, 
 yes ; she is a naughty, unkind Lotty ! " In the innocence of his 
 heart he thought Augusta was as ironical in her remarks as him- 
 self. 
 
 ''How will you punish me, father?" said Lotty, still in her 
 childish glee. 
 
 " I tliink I won't love you, Lotty," and the little thing was in- 
 stantly folded in that large embrace. 
 
 '• Little Lotty." said iMillicent, "I hope you did not get wet 
 this morning ; the dew was so heavy." 
 
 "Ah. me ! " exclaimed Augusta, " the little Puseyite has been 
 to church this morning." 
 
 " Did you think of your fond old father, my Lotty?" said Mr. 
 Beauvilliers. 
 
 " Yes, father ; you know I did." 
 
 *' I know it, my chiM ; Jiut I like to hear yon say so." 
 
 " O Mr. lieaiivilliers ! how can you encourage Lotty in such 
 popish tilings?" asked Au^rusta. 
 
 "• I am sorry if tiiey are ])f)pi.sh, Miss Clare ; but my Lotty 
 comes in to me from her early prayers with the fresh beauty of a 
 young C'hristiati surrounding her." 
 
 " And she is one," whispereil I'm., as if to herself. 
 
 " Now, Lotty," said Augusta, " come here and confess: why 
 do you go so early to churdi?" 
 
 " To say niv pnivers." 
 
 " I'ooh, child ! 1 know that ; but what other reason can you 
 give .''
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 89 
 
 " To get wet with the early dew." 
 
 " You are more bearish than ever, Lotty ; but I see it is use- 
 less trying to get a sensible answer from such a baby as you 
 are ! " 
 
 " Perhaps I think you would not understand my answer." 
 
 " That is so likely, little goose ! however, tell it to me ; I 
 must know." 
 
 " Then," said Lotty, standing erect before them, " I will tell 
 you my reasons. In the first place, when I heard that Gerald 
 was establishing the early service in the small village, and cele- 
 brating the saints' days, besides other things, I questioned to 
 myself the propriety of his doing so." 
 
 " Dear me ! how kind you were, and how wise you have 
 grown." 
 
 " Pray hush, Miss Clare," said Philip ; " I am very anxious." 
 
 " So am I, dying with curiosity." 
 
 " And I," said Margaret, " am also curious ; I put faith in 
 my little Lotty's reasons." 
 
 " But before I could pass judgment," continued Lotty, " I 
 said to myself, that I must make a trial thereof. And I have 
 done so." 
 
 " And pray what is the result? " said one and all. 
 
 *' I think Gerald will not succeed in his wishes. The present 
 generation are not that primitive race of former days, who, hav- 
 ing but little labor on hand, gladly accepted any occupation for 
 the early hours that were then kept. We can no more force 
 upon the people of this age the religious services and duties that 
 occupied their many leisure hours in earlier times, than we can 
 make them use rushes for carpets and sheepskins for clothing. 
 Healthy, active, honest industry is religion of itself. True, peo- 
 ple may say, that such services occupy but half an hour in a 
 day, and that it must be sweet to the laboring man to go to his 
 work straight from his God : but he does not carry all that liis 
 heart holds dear with him ; wife and children, or some part of 
 his family, are left at home from necessity. Therefore, I think, 
 if Gerald inculcated family prayer at home he would be doing 
 more good. That is more fitted for the present day." 
 
 " Then Avhy do you go, child ? " said Augusta. 
 
 " Because," said Lotty, her large eyes growing soft and dark, 
 as the shadow of sorrow passed into them, " I have a prayer to 
 
 make to God " she paused, and continued low, " for a life 
 
 that I love. And besides," she continued louder, " I like to run 
 a race with the sun. I love to see his bright face gilding up the 
 
 8*
 
 90 MARGARET 
 
 Avorlil, the little (lew-drops just -waiting to welcome him, and 
 then imperceptihly vanishing. I like to feel fresh caud free, as 
 the young, bright day ; and I like to take all my first feelings to 
 God in his house. And the world is so beautiful in the early 
 morning. Now, father, here is the round cushion, it is his turn 
 now ; and Bear, liear, you dear old thing ! turn yourself round." 
 
 " I think, Lotty," said Harold, rousing himself, " you made 
 some sensible remarks just now." 
 
 " O, she found them in some book," interrupted Augusta. 
 
 " Indeed I did," answered Lotty. 
 
 " Tliere, I told you so," exclaimed Augusta. 
 
 " And Avhat book, little Lotty? " asked Millicent. 
 
 " It is before you," said Lotty, spreading out her hands, and 
 looking with glowing eyes on the scene around them. 
 
 " I did not think you were so romantic, Lotty," said Harold. 
 
 " I was speaking ibr you, Harold," said Lotty ; ''just saying 
 what you would say, as master and head of all here. And thus, 
 Harold, you think of the Forest and all its loveliness. People 
 talk of architecture and laws of beauty, and lines of grace. 
 Take the arch of an avenue, and see if lordly man can build such 
 symmetry of grace as that. When we were at Montagu House, 
 liasil used to show us all the beauties of the Forest, did he not, 
 Margaret? And so we came to love trees and Basil together, 
 and both most dearly." 
 
 '' I am glad to hear you say so, little Lotty," said a voice be- 
 hind the tree. Lotty turned, and with a glad cry sprang towards 
 the speaker. He placed both Iiands round her slight waist, and 
 lifting her, as a feather, from the ground, kissed her on both 
 cheeks. 
 
 " C), don't, Basil ! remember I have left school," said Lotty. 
 
 " Is that any reason why I should love my little Lotty less? " 
 said liasil smiling. 
 
 IMillicent Avas in his arms; Haroltl sj)rang up witli alacrity; 
 Margaret gave him a sister's welcome ; Augusta arranged her 
 curls. Basil was a better parti than IMiilii) ; Lady Katherine 
 was most graeious and betiigii ; but all this warm, heai'ly wel- 
 come was nothing to I'liilip iii comparison to the lirst one. A 
 flush of rage made a strange, tumultuous beating of his heart ; 
 and when ho saw the nobh?, expressive countenance, the calm, 
 wreue eyes, with nothing of the youth about him, })ut the fair, 
 waving curls, all the manly bearing of fine athletic grace anil 
 power, I'hilip I'eli tlie wild demon of jealo\isy was running 
 through his veins. The blood of the Leighs was hot and tern-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 91 
 
 pestuous when roused. He could have, shot like a dog, the noble 
 specimen of a man that stood before him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "Ah, Basil, why did you not come before ? " cried Millicent. 
 
 " Yes," said Harold, " make a clean breast of it, my dear fel- 
 low, and confess why you have been so long in fulfilling your 
 promise of visiting us." 
 
 " We have been expecting you with so much anxiety," added 
 Margaret. 
 
 " I can assure you. Lord Erlscourt," said Lady Katherine, 
 " your reception has been daily thought of, and cared for, 
 though your unexpected arrival has not permitted us to show 
 you this respect." • 
 
 Basil smiled, and answered, " I had a very poor reception, I 
 can assure you, Lady Katlierine ; for when I arrived at the Rec- 
 tory, there was no kind sister to welcome me : no one, but a 
 man, whom I supposed to be my brother, but who Avas so deeply 
 absorbed in writing his sermon, that all lie did was to shoAV me 
 the door, and direct me in the path to Court Leigh." 
 
 "But Avhy did you not come before?"' said Millicent. 
 
 " Do you not know, Milly dear, that I have affairs to attend 
 to, more than all children ? The two boys had set their hearts 
 on spending their holidays in the Forest with me. I can assure 
 you we have had a merry time." 
 
 " They must be very different children to what they were, 
 Basil." 
 
 " I am glad to say, quite so, Milly. In fact, I am so proud 
 of them, that I half thought of bringing them down to see you." 
 
 " Pray, dear Basil, do so, their next holidays." 
 
 " But now, Basil," said Margaret, " you must be introduced 
 to three people — Miss Clare, Mr. Leigh, Lord Erlscourt." 
 
 As Basil lifted his hat from his head, and displayed his whole 
 face to their view, Philip felt inclined to curse him in his heart, 
 while Augusta mentally exclaimed, — 
 
 " He is too beautiful for a man ! " 
 
 The noble brow was shaded by almost feminine cuids, so light 
 and wavy were they, the dark blue eyes beamed with sweetness
 
 92 MARGARET 
 
 but energy, "wliile a lingcriug shadow in them imparted a look 
 of grave dignity to his whole countenance, that betttted an older 
 man. But wlien he spoke, and this smile gleamed out, the 
 laughing innocence of a fair, bright buy seemed to take the place 
 of the older man. 
 
 " But where is tlie third? " said Basil. 
 
 " Here ! " said Margaret, placing her boy in his arms. 
 
 Philip noted the instant diange of countenance, the sudden 
 shock, that made the strong frame tremble with its light burden, 
 but as he looked it was gone. "Whatever Basil felt, it passed 
 away with the kiss he gave Margaret's boy, and his countenance 
 was serene as ever Avhen he raised it. 
 
 " I am no judge of babies, Margaret," said he, " only of 
 rough, hardy school-bovs ; and I will show my two against the 
 world."   
 
 " I am glad you have come now, Basil," said Lotty ; "for we 
 are going home in a week." 
 
 '* 1 intend, Lotty, to beguile you and your father to my forest 
 home some day," returned Basil. • 
 
 '• Will you go, father? " asked Lotty, eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, my best Lotty." 
 
 " And see, Basil, wliat a splendid hound I have." 
 
 " Bi-autilul ; upon my word, he is superb ! with him little 
 Lotty, we sliall have rare sport." 
 
 i'iiilip's heart grew calmer as he witnessed the sort of childish 
 behavior of Lottie to Lord Erlscourt ; and when he left with his 
 sister, was quite ready to join with Augusta in her praises. 
 
 " So handsome, so disdnffKC, so elegant," she said. 
 
 " So good, so noble, so brave," echoed a little mocking voice 
 behind her. 
 
 '' You little bear! " 
 
 " Then forbear, Augusta, applying such epithets to Basil. In 
 looking at him, one does not think so much of his personal 
 appearance as his character." 
 
 " (), if we arc going to have a sermon T shall retire." 
 
 It did not tak(! liasil many days to discover that beneath the 
 polislx il suriace of their life, there was a sure, though slumber- 
 ing, volcano sleeping, that recpiired but little to boil over ; 
 especially as Cierald cr»nlided to him, in glowing, lofty language, 
 the supineness, indolence, and indifference of the squire of his 
 parish ; while Harold in his turn, dilated on the stern exactness, 
 and almost rude interference, with which his rector meddled in 
 hid matters. It was no part of Basil's creed to make himself a
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 93 
 
 go-between. He ever deemed it better policy for people situated 
 as bis brother and Sir Harold, to leave them to adjust their own 
 differences ; for where strong religious principles, conscientious 
 determination of duty, were mingled with singleness of heart, 
 and utter forgetfuluess of self, the uprightness of such a charac- 
 ter would make its own way, and bear down all opposition. 
 This, Basil knew, was Gerald's character ; and while he might 
 lament that, with over-much zeal, he had created in Harold's 
 heart a strong personal dislike, he deemed that heart too gen- 
 erous and frank to resist the good Gerald Avished him. 
 
 But Basil was not aware bow much the demon of indolence 
 and torpidity bad taken possession of Harold. He was more 
 concerned to see that the gentle playfellow of his early days 
 passed on her quiet way, content wnth the present, without fear 
 for the future. In no one way was Margaret improved, but was 
 sinking into a meek, inane character, with no feeling beyond 
 what concerned her Harold. And he knew her in reality so 
 different. Many episodes in their childish life rose before him, 
 wherein her sense, her judgment, and endurance, all marked 
 her as fitted for mucb more than the indolent life she was now 
 leading. 
 
 " Little Lotty, Queen Margaret is leading a sad, useless life 
 here," said Basil, one day to the little Bear, as she was romping 
 with the great Bear. 
 
 " She only thinks of two things in the world, Basil ; and that 
 is what you and I are not accustomed to." 
 
 " No, Lotty ; it was different when she was a little, wild 
 school-girl like you. Have you not tried to reason with her ? " 
 
 " No, Basil." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Her time has not yet come. I would rather preach to you, 
 my Bear ; you would understand me sooner," continued Lotty, 
 to her dog. 
 
 Lotty looked up as Basil continued silent. He was in deep, 
 painful thought. 
 
 " You must save her, Basil." 
 
 "How, Lotty?" 
 
 " 1 don't know ; but you must try to aivaken her from her 
 dream of security. I thought one night she would perhaps show 
 some emotion. Harold was not quite good — sometimes he is 
 not — that is, you know he stays rather longer in the dining- 
 room than be ought ; he always does when Lady Katberine is 
 here. As he lay with sleepy eyes half back in his chair, some-
 
 94 MARGARET 
 
 body that shall be nameless euterecl into conversation with him. 
 I suppose she was more amusing than usual, for there ensued so 
 violent a llirtatiun, that Lady Ivatlieriue swept out of the room, 
 carrying Pru. and Pro. Avith her. I looked at Margaret ; she 
 did not seem to be taking the least notice. And -when that 
 somebody said, in a simpering, fawning way, ' I hope, dear, you 
 don't mind my little flirtation with .Sir Ilarold this evening.' 
 'Ah, no,' said C^ueeu Margaret (lor whicli J eould have beaten 
 her, Basil), ' it is so kind of you to amuse him.' " 
 
 " Did she feel no indignation, Lotty?" 
 
 " Well, she miglit, perhaps ; but I'll tell you what she meant, 
 Basil ; she would die rather than that any one should think 
 Harold was wrong, or could do wrong ! " 
 
 '' I l)elieve it ! I believe it ! Yes, I know that must be her 
 thouglit." 
 
 " Wo are going to drive to-day, Basil ; pray come wuth us. 
 I Avill be cliarioteer, and I will take care to drive you to what 
 Gerald would call ' some improving scenes ' ! " 
 
 Having seen both her Harolds so employed until she returned, 
 that they would not miss her, Margaret went A\ith the delighted 
 Lotty and Basil. IMargaret had not enjoyed such a merry drive 
 since she was a school-girl. Basil was most aunising, with all 
 his stories of everyday life, and Avhat he did at home, looking 
 so fresh, handsome, and animated, that, whether she liked it or 
 not, the idea of a dark, silent, heavy companion, who usually sat 
 there, was perpetually rising to her mind in contrast. Then 
 Lotty's quaint little comments upon Basil's stories were so racy, 
 that even he was in fits of laughing. Tiiey had no servant with 
 them, and, whether from design or accident, Lotty was perpetu- 
 ally desiring to have something done to the harness. Basil 
 would be out at the ponies' heads on the instant. 
 
 " Our servant is active, is he not. Queen IMcg?" 
 
 '' lie is, indeed, my J-otty ; liow he si)rings out ! it is quite a 
 pleasure to sec him. But 1 am so afraid that in doing it thus 
 quickly lie may get hurt." 
 
 " N(j iear," said Lotty, " otherwise I would not trouble him. 
 But I have a mind to see how long a man, who calls himself a 
 gentleman, will consider it necessary to obey a Avonum's Avill." 
 
 " 1 tliink you liavc tried Basil enough, Lotty ; this is the sixth 
 time you iiave luadt; him get out." 
 
 " Yes, it is of no use trying this experiment on liim, for if I 
 Avere to ask hini six times nmre he Avoidtl be just as ready. I 
 think i will try my plan on one of the lazy Leiglis — eh, my 
 Queen ? "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 95 
 
 " Then you will never get them to obey you," said Margaret, 
 lau"'liiug merrily, as if Lotty was in a joke. " But go on now, 
 Lotty, lor Basil is up again." 
 
 They arrived at Avhat appeared to be a ruined farmstead, 
 nevertheless sounds came from within the half-roofed house : a 
 few poor, miserable fowls were scattered about, with some 
 gaunt pigs. 
 
 " Desirable place that," said Lotty, laconically ; " I was 
 thinking of asking for a glass of Avater, for Bear and me. Do 
 you think Ave shall get it here, Basil?" 
 
 " I will go and ask, little Lotty." 
 
 " No, no, you Avill knock your brains out against the door. 
 Margaret and I Avill go, if you will hold the ponies." 
 
 " I will accompany you Avith pleasure," said Margaret, " but 
 I am sure no one can live there." 
 
 But it AA^as inhabited. Sickly, miserable-looking children lay 
 about the floor ; a hoarse but feeble voice came from a bed, in a 
 corner of the room, as they entered, and a Avoman, with a face 
 of Avoe and starvation terrible to see, making Margaret quite 
 shudder, rose before them. 
 
 " I came to ask for a glass of water," said Lotty. The Avoman 
 sent a little child out Avith a jug. 
 
 " You seem ill," said Margaret. 
 
 " Yes, my lady, we are spent at last. After sti'uggling all 
 we could, the last misfortune is come on us : my husband is 
 helpless Avith rheumatic fever." 
 
 " But how happens it, that Avith all this appearance of having 
 been a large dairy farm," said Lotty, " you are in this plight?" 
 
 The woman shook her head, and burst into tears. The man 
 called out from his bed, " It was a miserable hour, ma'am, 
 Avhen Ave came here. I was Avorth eight hundred pounds ere I 
 took the farm, but see to Avhat I have fallen, through the grasp- 
 ing hand of my landlord and his agent ; they exacted the rent, 
 which was high, to the farthing, but they did nothing that they 
 promised. They gave me no help to drain my land, they let my 
 barns fall, without giving me a stick to help them up ; and the 
 cow-shed was bloAvn down one night, killing three out of six 
 cows. I struggled as Avell as I could, but there is a curse on 
 this estate ; I am bound down by a lease, or I Avould have 
 worked on the road to get aAvay." 
 
 "Would your landlord do nothing for you?" said Lotty; 
 "have you not told him of your condition?" 
 
 " I have told him myself, I have waited on him night and
 
 96 MARGARET 
 
 day. My wife went to see the lady, ■who seemed to be an augcl 
 by the goodness and gentleness in her face, but she had a hard 
 heart beiiL-ath. She listened with shut ears ; she did not seem to 
 understand ; she said, ' ^Sir Harold must not be disturbed, he 
 was reading or sleeping ; ' and we were starving." 
 
 Lotty was too generous, and much too fond of her Queen 
 Margaret, to turn and look at her, as the man continued a tale 
 of woe and hardship, that few believed could exist on England's 
 soil, but which may be the case under similar circumstances. 
 Hard bargains of rent, strict exactions in demanding the same, 
 are not so ruinous to a tenant as the Avant of his landlord's help 
 to keep Ids home clean and dry, his buildings in repair and neat- 
 ness, his gates and fences in order and use, his fields drained 
 and manured. AVhen this is the case, let the tentant beginulge 
 his landlord no rent, but prove the value of his assistance by the 
 punctuality of his payments. This is the true bond of union 
 between landlord and tenant, and causes England to abound in 
 estates, whore the landlord lives as a king among those around 
 him, Avhile they bring up their sons and daughters to love and 
 honor the bountiful hand that helps them, the willing ear that 
 listens. "While the landlord, on liis part, views with pride and 
 delight generation alter generation growing up upon his estates, 
 farms passing from father to son, the hereditary love with them : 
 each strengthening the other, until they are part and parcel 
 together. 
 
 As Margaret lifted the broken pitcher to her lips, the light 
 fell upon her pale, agitated face. Lotty saw enough, while the 
 woman exclaime(l, " It is my lady herself, Lady Leigh ! " In 
 the confusion that ensued, Lotty escaped ; her Avarm, loving 
 heart could not bear to see, Aviiat she kncAv must be there, the 
 first awakening of Margaret from her quiet dream of bliss, pic- 
 tured in the jiitherto smiling face. 
 
 "All! Basil, 1 fear Ave have succeeded too Avell I I Avould 
 rather. — what would 1 not latlur, tiian that slie should have 
 tliis liitti-r lesson? T Avould rather see you married to Augusta, 
 1 think : " 
 
 " Come, Lotty, I do not see Avhy I am to be so severely pun- 
 ished for nothing." 
 
 "■ Yr>u deserve some fright, Lasil, for Augusta UM me last 
 night you had all but proposed to her ; and you know you nnist 
 have given her some encouragement, she couhl not (juite tell 
 such a thing, you know." 
 
 '* It is agaiust my principles, Lotty, to lind fault Avilh a lady ;
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 97 
 
 but in this instance I so utterly deny the imputation, that I 
 really imagined the lady to be engaged to Philip Leigh." 
 
 " What do you think of that man, Basil?" 
 
 " I lilie him so well, that I should be sorry to see him mar- 
 ried to Augusta. Both he and Harold have every element of 
 good in them, but both seem some how to have suffered a defect 
 in their education." 
 
 " Not so, Basil, they M^anted early self-denial. There was 
 no creed in their bringing up, that told them duty should guide 
 their actions, even though no religious principles were given 
 them." 
 
 "Is this my little Lotty talking so wisely?" said Basil, turn- 
 ing her face round to him, and looking into her eyes. 
 
 " O, don't ! Basil," said Lotty, " I am no school-girl now." 
 
 " What wonderful eyes you have, Lotty ! they are like a deep 
 well." 
 
 " With truth at the bottom, I hope, Basil ; but to return to 
 the Leighs, Margaret would have been different in other 
 hands; why did you let her escape you, Basil?" 
 
 " Hush ! Lotty, hush ! you show no wisdom in speaking thus 
 to me of a married woman." 
 
 " Then I will go and talk to Bear," said Lotty, assuming her 
 childish air. 
 
 When Margaret appeared again, they neither of them looked 
 at her ; Basil helped her in with kind assiduity, Lotty scolded 
 Bear and ponies vehemently, and kept up afterwards a war of 
 words with Basil. Again they came within sight of a ruined 
 farm-house, with all its buildings in a more dilapidated condi- 
 tion than the first. 
 
 " Stop," said Margaret, the first word she had spoken ; Lotty 
 drew her ponies up on their haunches. 
 
 " No one lives there, Margaret," said she ; " is it not so, 
 Basil?" 
 
 '• I will go and see," said he. 
 
 " No," said Margaret, " I must go myself." 
 
 " Ah, Basil," said Lotty, as she disappeared under the ruined 
 door-way, " how her voice is changed. Have you been too hard 
 upon her ? " 
 
 " No, Lotty, with a disposition like Margaret's, nothing but 
 the life she has been lately leading will hurt her." 
 
 Margaret returned, her face brighter. No one lived there, 
 but the ruin of everything was sad. 
 
 In this way they passed many more homesteads, at all of 
 9
 
 98 MARGARET 
 
 which Margaret, at her own request, got out and visited them, 
 each wretched, miserable and Ibrloru. 
 
 As they drove home, in a very different mood from that in 
 which they started, nothing was said. Lotty did not even speak 
 to the spirited ponies, or answer the wondering looks of her 
 Bear. 
 
 As Basil handed Margaret out of the carriage, she paused for 
 a moment on the thrt's;hold of her house, and looking at them 
 both with the soft, dark eyes, full of expressive meaning and 
 aflection, said gently, but clearly, " Thank you both." 
 
 " 8he is saved," said Basil, giving Lotty an irresistible kiss 
 of congratulation, as he lifted her from the carriage. 
 
 " Don't, Basil ! you always forget 1 have left school." 
 
 Other eyes saw that kiss, two pair, one of which belonged to 
 a heart that whispered to itself, " I hate Lotty, and I will be 
 revenged upon her some how." 
 
 The owner of the other pair said also to himself, " Ah ! ah ! 
 my Lord Erlscourt, it is your turn now, but mine shall come." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 To all outward appearances INIargaret seemed as serene as 
 usual ; but to Loity, Basil, and Millicent there was a change. 
 
 "Where is Queen Meg?" asked Harold, one morning, with 
 peevish vexation on his lace. 
 
 " O, dear me ! she has walked off, no one knows Avhere," 
 replied Augusta, " caring for no one." 
 
 " Very tiresome," said Harold, angrily ; " she knows I wanted 
 some letters written, and lialt'a dozen other things." 
 
 " Dear me. Sir Harold I how can yovi expect a woman to be 
 always running after her husband?" cried Augusta; " I knew 
 IMargaret's fit would not last long, as soon as she had old friends 
 about her." 
 
 llanjld's face flushed. 
 
 '•'■ I should think," said Lotty, looking up quietly from her 
 book, '"if" you, Augusta, wouM give Harold the message Mar- 
 garet l(!i't for him, you would spare him the trouble of putting 
 himself into a rage." 
 
 " But, Lotty, it is so unlike Margaret to go away without 
 telling me, or asking me," said Harold.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 99 
 
 " I presume, from the peculiarly amiable manner In which 
 you always beg not to be teased with foolish questions, that she 
 was obeying you in this instance." 
 
 " I believe I am very cross sometimes ; but really the weather 
 is so hot, and the flies so troublesome, no wonder one gets bored. 
 But what is the message ? " 
 
 "It was given to Augusta." 
 
 "How do you know that?" said Augusta, angrily; "you 
 were not in the room." 
 
 " I knew it from this : these are Harold's letters, all written, 
 sealed, and ready to go, with their copies beside them ; I am 
 sure you were told to intbrm him thereof, and beg him to see if 
 they were correct. Then by Harold's chair I see his little table, 
 with his book, the two newspapers, his paper cutter, his foot- 
 stool (as if you were some gouty old fellow, Harold) ; and all 
 these show, that though some business might take Margaret 
 away, Harold was not foi'gotten." 
 
 " You are a good little soul, Lotty, I must say, and very 
 sharp too." So Harold seated himself lazily in his chair, con- 
 tinuing, " You can put all the copies into my drawer, Lotty, and 
 ring the bell to send the letters off." 
 
 " Very well," said Lotty ; " and if it won't fatigue your 
 highness too much, I will read you the copies ere I put them 
 away." 
 
 " Do, dear child," said he, laughing at her quaint gravity. 
 
 The Beauvillian visit was nearly ended. Philip tried every 
 means in his power to gain an interview with Lotty alone : she 
 was always in the midst of everybody ; if her father did not 
 want her, she was by Margaret's side ; and when Pru. and Pro. 
 could possibly catch her, they hung by her with a tenacity that 
 made Philip wish them both deposited in that remarkable sea 
 which, we ^ suppose from its sanguinary color, always comes 
 uppermost in people's minds on such occasions. 
 
 Mr. Frank had passed from the excited state of courtship into 
 a raging fever of haste and eagerness to be married; and he 
 was anxious to get home, to make preparations to receive his 
 Georgina. 
 
 Lady Katherine would have besought a delay of six months 
 for propriety's sake ! but the Beauvillian ardor and enthusiasm 
 knocked down Lady Katherine's arguments one after another, 
 like so many nine-pins, and threatened to carry the stately old 
 dame herself quite off the balance of her propriety. 
 
 " Dear madam, let them marry," said Mr. Beauvilliers ;
 
 100 MARGARET 
 
 " -why keep them waiting just for a little punctilio ? you know 
 royal marriages dou't take halt" so long to settl(\" 
 
 This master-stroke of his chiettaiu decided Mr. Frank's hap- 
 piness, and his fever somewhat abated under the influence of 
 preparation : but as for departing without his charge, that was 
 quite impossible. !So the day was fixed, much to tlie sorroAV of 
 every one ; and only the day before did chance favor Philip. 
 
 He had joined Lotty, Harold, and Basil, in a ride that Harold 
 had been induced to take, to see a wood that required thinning. 
 Harold was already beginning to feel the want of money ; and 
 the prospect of having some wood to sell, that would ease his 
 present care, spurred him to exert himself for once. 
 
 Exhihirated by the exertion, and the feeling of doing some- 
 thing, Harold agreed to go on a little farther ; but Lotty wished 
 to return to her father's early dinner. Philip otlcred to escort 
 her home, with a sudden rush to his heart ol' tumidtuous joy, 
 while his outward appearance was calm as usual. 
 
 They chatted very happily for some time. Lotty really liked 
 Philip, he was so amusing; and she gave herself up to friendly 
 and i'amiliar conversation with him, as she would do Avith Basil. 
 
 Receiving no answer to one of her sallies, she looked round 
 and saw I'iiilip Avith a face quite pale from internal emotion. 
 He was thinking at the moment that his fate depended upon 
 the answer he meant to make her give him ere tlie ride was 
 over ; and the possibility that she might refuse him blanched his 
 cheek. 
 
 "Anytliing tlie matter, IMiilip?" said she. His Christian 
 name passed her lips as much from surprise to see his agitation, 
 as from a sort of habit she had of becoming familiar with every- 
 body she liked. 
 
 '• Lotty, Lotty, I love you," said Philip, " I love you to mad- 
 ness. O ! Lotty, will you be mine ? " 
 
 She reiiKMl u]) her horse full short. The dear, brilliant eyes 
 looked full at him in astonishment, then, as if unable to bear the 
 burning love expressed in his, so unlike their usual expression, 
 ahe wheeled her horse suddenly round. With a smart touch of 
 Iter whip he boutidcd over the fence by the road-side, and shak- 
 ing his head with indignation, he fled in a mad gallop across a 
 heavy pUmghed field. They were over the next hedge ere Philip 
 gained his senses. 
 
 " Wilfid, wicked little thing!" he jiassionately exclaimed, 
 plunging his spurs into his horse's sides, and following her ; 
 " 1 will make her hear me ; I will have an answer."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 101 
 
 Though Lotty never looked back, she seemed to know she 
 was being pursued ; for the next glimpse he had of her, she was 
 bending over, examining the girths of her saddle. He could 
 see her, gathering up the folds of her habit, and setting her 
 slight figure firmly in her seat ; then, with a clear, ringing 
 chirrup to her horse, away they bounded, as if on a race for 
 life and death. 
 
 Philip followed, his brows knit, his teeth set, determination 
 even in the waves of his hair, wliile he muttered to himself, 
 " there is the brook, beyond the long meadow ; I shall catch 
 her there." As he thinks this, again he hears the clear voice 
 cheering her horse. They are over the brook, and are breasting 
 the steep bank on the other side. He could almost hear the 
 little hand patting the good steed who bore her so gallantly, and 
 he felt half mad with vexation and admiration, as he watched 
 the little graceful figure bending so lightly forward to ease her 
 horse up the nearly perpendicular bank. They are gone over 
 the top, and Lotty might almost have heard the wind bringing 
 the words, " Wilful, wicked little thing ! " 
 
 As Philip reached the head of the bank, he saw the object of 
 his pursuit far away, three fields off. A sudden pang of fear 
 sent every other feeling from his heart. 
 
 " The quarry, ah ! the quarry, she Avill not know of it. My 
 voice is useless at this distance ; she Avill think too that I but 
 mean to frighten her. Ah ! that lovely, exquisite, wilful being, 
 is she to meet such a horrible fate ? " 
 
 Philip spui-red wildly on, shouting, though he knew it useless. 
 As he looked, he saw the wild gallop restrained, the obedient 
 steed was changing his stride into a quiet cuuter. 
 
 " Ah, she knows it ! how could I doubt her sense and judg- 
 ment? she sees some sign of unknown danger. Now, now then 
 I have her, now will I make her answer me." 
 
 He did not see, as she bent low on her saddle, the furtive 
 glances she was casting behind. As he dashed over the last 
 fence with a Avild cry of triumph, she stood still, as if waiting 
 for his approach ; but as his horse struck into his full swing 
 gallop, she suddenly wheeled round, and passing within ten 
 yards of him, bounded over the last hedge, which took her into 
 a lane ; ere Philip could pull up his half-mad steed, he saw her 
 far away up the winding lane without the possibility of being 
 overtaken, for she was leisurely cantering along, he was almost 
 sure, switching the hedge-rows as she passed, and singing in the 
 low, happy tone she was wont to do, in her childish moods. 
 9 *
 
 102 MARGARET 
 
 The air might liavo borne on its viewless, but not voicelesg, 
 bosom sundry exchimations, the reverse of good or proper, until 
 the heavy brow unkuit ; a happy thought had occurred. 
 
 '* I will turn and go in by the lower lodge. It' I spare not my 
 horse, I shall be tliere before her ; and as she emerges from the 
 upper lodge, I shall catch her at the angle of the roads. Speak 
 to her I will, and make her answer me, as the heaven is above 
 us." 
 
 lie was in time ; Lotty Avas cantering quietly up to the junc- 
 tion of the roads. " Now she is mine." He thought it too soon ; 
 as she caught sight of him, she turned her horse's head in the 
 direction of the walnut avenue. 
 
 " Where can she be going now? for that only leads to the 
 flower-garden Avith the ha-ha before it, and the rabbit fence." 
 He followed. " Heavens ! she is not so mad as to think of 
 jumping the ha-ha. I hear her speaking to her horse ; she 
 gathers up her habit, she is shaking the reins. Stay, Lotty, 
 stay, it will be your death ! " 
 
 A ringing, mocking, last cheer to her horse sounds in his ear, 
 and Lotty is over, plunging about mid the flower-beds. He 
 laslies his steed, determined to follow ; but the Avise animal 
 swerves aside, and as he turns him around for another trial, he 
 sees the "little, wild, wicked thing" dismounting from her 
 horse ; and giving it a parting switch of her whip, as a hint 
 to take himsell" off as best he may, she disappears through the 
 wide open window. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 riiiiJi' was down betimes for dinner, a flush on his usually 
 pale cheeks, a liic in his generally quiet eye. He was detei*- 
 mint;d to see how she would look on their meeting. 
 
 Lutly and her father were almost tlie last to appear; she, in 
 her little white silk dress, with tlic cluster of fresh roses, so like 
 herself, her only ornament. The rich liair was parted in its 
 usual waving lines, the brilliant eyes lookiMl round ns clear and 
 happy as ever : the pretty, frcsli, innocent face, and the large 
 loving hand on that shoulder, which showed a fresh dimple, 
 with every movement ; no change in Lotty. But her appear- 
 ance was greeted by several voices, among which Augusta's 
 •was loudest.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 103 
 
 " You are more of a bear than ever, you mad child ; hoAV could 
 you ruin Margaret's garden in such a thoughtless manner?" 
 
 " Nay," said Margaret, " Lotty is privileged ; she can do no 
 wrong to Margaret." 
 
 " What on earth were you doing, you two? riding a race? " 
 continued Augusta. 
 
 " It looked like it, did it not?" returned Lotty, quietly. 
 
 "Ah ! Mr. Leigh, I am afraid you Jiave been indulging my 
 pet in her favorite amusement — - a ride across the country ; 
 once set her off, nothing stops her," said Mr. Beauvilliers. 
 
 " I fully believe you, sir," muttered Philip, looking straight 
 at Lotty. 
 
 A furtive smile of mischief played round her mouth, for which 
 he felt inclined to punish her by making her hear his proposals 
 then and there, before all the company. 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Leigh," cried Augusta, " you really should be 
 careful how you follow that wild thing. I saw, from my win- 
 dow, what a narrow escape you had, and thought I should have 
 died on the spot." 
 
 " Very kind of you, indeed, Augusta," said Lotty ; " Mr. 
 Leigh seems too grateful to be able to express his feelings." 
 
 "■ But, my Lotty, you seem to me to have been rash," said 
 her father. 
 
 "And would you have had me lose the race, father? " pleaded 
 Lottv. 
 
 " Then it was a race?" asked Augusta, turning to Philip. 
 
 " Miss BeauviUiers said it was a race," replied Philip ; " I 
 did not." 
 
 "You little fibbing bear, come hei-e directly, and tell me what 
 made you ride in that luad manner?" 
 
 "When you see danger, don't you always run, Augusta?" 
 
 " Yes, of course, child ; but how could you be in any danger 
 with Mr. Leigh near you ? " 
 
 *' I was, I assure you ; and as dinner is announced, I will 
 give him leave to tell you all about it." 
 
 Lotty could hear Augusta from her end of the table endeavor- 
 ing to extract something out of the now morose Philip, with no 
 success. 
 
 Lotty always sat by her father at dinner, as his aged fingers, 
 stitFened with rheumatic gout, Avere nearly useless. With Queen 
 Margaret on one side, and her father on the other, no wonder 
 Lotty looked happy and bright, and scores of times made Philip 
 wish himself at home, out of reach of seeing or hearing her.
 
 104 Margaret 
 
 In consequence of this being the last evening, Harold left the 
 dining-room sooner than usual ; and knowing that some hearts 
 "were sad at to-morrow's parting, he chimed in very agreeably to 
 Basil's proposal for some music and dancing. 
 
 " Come now, C^ueen Meg., give me some of your sweet songs 
 first," said Harold ; " it is ten days or more since you have sung 
 me to sleep ■with your low, half-melancholy murmurings ; and 
 you know how I like them." 
 
 '• But I do not," said Margaret, in her soft, but clear tones. 
 " People that have everything they want, and have nothing to 
 be melancholy about, should have heart-stirring, lively music, 
 such as this is." And jNIargaret broke out into that brilliant 
 gallop, the " Sjurit of the Ball." 
 
 Basil threw his arms round Lotty's little waist, and Avas flying 
 with her on the wings of the wind. Mr. Frank was whirling 
 Pro. alon? with irresistible Beauvillian force, thou'ih she had not 
 an idea of the step. Mr. AValter Beauvilliers oflfered his arm 
 politely to Pru., who looked helplessly at her mother, avIio 
 benignly said, — "Go, my dear." Lady Katheiiue was break- 
 ing out into quite a jovial old dame, and seemed so inspired, that 
 her head, fan, hands, and feet, were all in a quiver of movement, 
 as if trying to be oti' themselves : in fact, her Avhole appearance 
 seemed so enthusiastic, that had old Mr. Beau\ illiers a leg to 
 stand upon, he felt he must certainly have asked her to get up 
 and dance with him. And T have no doubt the old lady woidd 
 have danced (piite as well as her daughters. J^hilip, lor a 
 moment, stood with a thundei'-cloud on his brow ; he had seen 
 an unmistakable look of intelligence pass between Basil and 
 Lotly, as Margaret had answered her husband — a look of Iri- 
 unq)li and heartfelt delight. "Wliat could it mean? But Augusta 
 looked appealingly at him ; he offered his arm, and with his heart 
 full of secret anger and disgust, he bore along his Iragile and 
 rather languid partner. 
 
 Harold apologized for not asking Milliccnt to dance, by saying 
 he was aiVaiil it would over-fatigue her. But ^Milliccnt Avould 
 accept nothing liut his arm, and bore him olf. And now as they 
 llcw round tlie roouj, Lolty and liasil exchanged smiling looks 
 with Queen Meg., the two Mr. Beiiu\illians bore tluir sUanbling, 
 blinidering, breathless little partners round in a manner only 
 ]icMUvilIiaiis conld do, while Margaret followed her husliand and 
 ^lillicent with lovin-^ eves, 'riieii llie, gallop changed into the 
 swimming, gracel'nl w;iltz. lOveii Harold began with alacrity to 
 dance to the Prima Douua.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 105 
 
 " Charming to see young people so enjoy themselves, Madam," 
 said Mr. Beauvilliers. 
 
 " I see no harm, I must say," said Lady Katherine, in a little 
 liveliness ; " we now and then got up a little dance at court, and 
 then we would sit in a row, his gracious Majesty in the middle, 
 with her gracious Majesty beside him, and the young Princesses 
 would perform a minuet — the minuet de la cour, which speaks 
 for itself, Mr. Beauvilliers." 
 
 " It does, Madam," said the old gentleman, in his most polite 
 manner. "My dear brother," continued he, to Mr. Robert 
 Beauvilliers, " do you observe her?" 
 
 " I do, brother," said Mr. Robert ; " she is like a bird, a 
 feather, a flake of snow." 
 
 " She has a pretty flush," continued the father. 
 
 " Lovely ! my dear brother ; I was at that moment thinking I 
 had never seen her look so well." 
 
 All being now breathless, and done up as it were, the music 
 suddenly stopped. Harold sunk exhausted, but in a fine flow of 
 spirits, into a seat. Lotty had, some how, sprung from one step 
 in the waltz to her father's chair. The two Miss Leighs were 
 Ie"d, staggering and giddy, with their hair in such confusion 
 as no one had ever seen it before, to their honored mother, who 
 might have remonstrated, had she known in what possible words 
 to do it. Such a thing as dishevelled hair was not known at 
 court. 
 
 Then began Margaret the spirited song of " The Old Hoimd," 
 which she sang with such gusto, that the chorus was taken up on 
 all sides ; and when the view halloo Avas to be given, it was done 
 by every man in the room to his heart's content, accompanied 
 with a little shriek of surprise from Lady Katherine. She had 
 never heard such a sound before, and thought the walls were 
 coming down ; she grew grave, and observed to Margaret, that 
 it was a pretty air certainly, but surely the words were vulgar — 
 that is, not meant for such society ; she had never heard of such 
 a song at court. 
 
 Whereupon, smiling, Margaret said she would sing her one 
 more ladylike, and calling on Augusta to join, they sang " The 
 Elfin Call." Then two Mr. Beauvillians sang a duet, a fine, 
 jovial song. Then they danced again ; and Pliilip asked Lotty, 
 and hearing that she was engaged to Harold, wished himself 
 hanged, or at the deuce, privately ; which it was, matters little, 
 as he evidently did not mean what he thought. 
 
 In the midst of all this hilarity, the pompous, gray-headed old
 
 106 MARGARET 
 
 butler announced, in his usually grand "way, " Lady Katherine's 
 chair ; the Miss Leighs's chair." 
 
 " "What ! already? " exclaimed Harold, in amazement. 
 
 Lady Kathcrine adhered to the good old fashion of sedan 
 chairs. But they had their inconveniences ; for though sho 
 might squeeze one daughter in with her, she could not two ; and 
 as, even in her son's house, she could not leave them behind, 
 while the chair took her the hundred yards she had to go, she 
 was under the necessity of having a chair for herself and one 
 for the Miss Leighs. To be sure, after Mr. Frank's proposal 
 and acceptance, her chair might have traversed the hundred 
 yards a hundred times before the other chair followed. 
 
 There was such Avrapping up of Miss Georgiua, such a num- 
 ber of adieus, so many last words to be spoken, so many 
 important things to be said, which had been quite forgotten until 
 that minute ; so many charges to Miss Leigh to take care 
 of Miss Georgina. All these things took up time, and yet, not- 
 Avithstanding all this care and all those charges, before Miss 
 Georgina had lime to say, " How polite and attentive he is ! " and 
 Miss Leigh to respond back in equally laudatory terms, as they 
 trotted along, they have arrived, and lo ! there was Mr. Frank 
 at the door, ready to help them out. 
 
 And though this little amiable scene took place upon an aver- 
 age five nights out of every seven, still Miss Georgiiui was 
 always so surprised to see him, and still Mr. Frank would say, 
 " I could not have rested, dearest Georgina, and not known that 
 you were safe under your mother's roof." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 LoTTY was gone, and riiilip was left behind, and nothing came 
 of all that he vowed to liinii^cli" should coiiu', so J'liilip shut him- 
 self up. 
 
 There was copious and abundant weeping on tlie departure of 
 the Boauvillicrs ; Georgina, of course, cried enough for ten, 
 though lovingly assured by Mr. Frank, he would barely eat, 
 drink, or sleep until he saw her again. I'm. was too sisterly not 
 to join her. Though Lolty might lia\c a tear in her eye when 
 ehe bade adieu to Queen Margaret, she was very unsympathetic
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 107 
 
 in parting with the others. Told Pro. not to cry her eyes out 
 ere she saw her again, as it would probably be inconvenient to 
 Mr. Frank to have a blind wife ; recommended Prii. to take les- 
 sons from Millicent, in the proper duties of a clergyman's wife, 
 which remark threatened to leave a permanent blush on poor 
 Pru.'s nose. She told Millicent, that, good people being scarce, 
 she hoped to see her taking more care of herself when they met 
 again ; also, hoped gravely, that Gerald would be nearer perfec- 
 tion, to which Gerald as gravely responded in the same wish. 
 And then whispering a parting piece of advice to Augusta, not 
 to outstay her welcome, Lotty took the little small nook that Avas 
 left for her in the carriage among her father's cushions. One 
 Mr. Beauvilliers inside with them, two Mr. Beauvilliers outside, 
 with the two servants, and Bear the Great. 
 
 As long as the carriage was in sight, hats were flourished and 
 handkerchiefs waved. Then, in a parting burst of grief, Geor- 
 gina sunk on the faithful Charlotte's shoulder, and was consider- 
 ately led to her couch. All of which was deemed by Lady 
 Katherine truly correct and proper, and very courtly. 
 
 " Harold, Avill you ride with me to-day?" said Basil, after 
 they were gone ; " my time is so short here now, that while 
 Gerald is occupied in parochial matters, I am fain to palm 
 myself off on you for amusement." 
 
 Harold had just lifted up one of his beloved French novels, 
 intending to ensconce himself in his easy chair. His unwonted 
 exertions of the evening before had really made him rather stiff; 
 but he was much too partial to Lord Erlscoui't to refuse. " My 
 dear fellow ! with pleasure. I dare say the ride will take off 
 my aches, too ; though, unless I had the inducement of your 
 company, I don't think I should stir." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Harold, as they passed the same farm-house 
 where Lotty had asked for water, " what are they doing here ? 
 They seem to be repairing the place. High time, too, idle, lazy 
 rascals ! " 
 
 " This is a wonderfully rich country," said Lord Erlscourt. 
 
 " I believe it is," returned Harold ; " but the worst for 
 tenants in the world. I cannot get any, and when I have them 
 they won't pay, or they run away." 
 
 " What sort of steward have you?" 
 
 " O, a rascal, like the rest of them ! There really is no 
 honesty about this place, and I am sick of it." 
 
 " It is a lovely country," said Basil. 
 
 " I allow it is, and I believe I should be fond of it if I were
 
 108 MARGARET 
 
 not po hai'assed and teased. Lying on the grass among the 
 flowers, looking at the fine old trees, from them to the gray, 
 picturesque old house, -with Margaret ruuuiug jihout after her 
 boy, I have often thought few could have a home so beautiful." 
 
 " I don't quite know," said Basil, smiling, " what harasses 
 you?" 
 
 " Why, you know, when I left you, I intended profiting by 
 your example, and looking after my affairs. My dear fellow, 
 •whether from design or not. Price, my agent, complicated the 
 simplest matters to such a degree, that I grcAv quite sick of 
 them. Then, the moment it was known that I was investijiatinor 
 matters, such a host of complaining tenants came about me, I 
 •was nearly mobbed ; I had no peace night or day. Their 
 demands were exorbitant, and their wants so many, that at last 
 I gave up the Avhole thing in disgust ; and as they one and all 
 complained of Price, I thought the best way was to hand them 
 all over to him, and they would be sick of complaining." 
 
 " Do you suppose he will act conscientiously by them?" said 
 Basil. 
 
 " I neither know nor care ; my rent-roll is £7000 a year, and 
 he must find it ; and as long as he does, I don't think I need 
 trouble myself." 
 
 As he spoke, the tall figure of the rector appeared in sight. 
 He advanced to meet them, glowing with health and apparent 
 satisfaction. " My dear Sir Harold," said he, taking his hand 
 ■with great eagerness, " allow me to congratulate you. Suffer 
 me to say hoAv delighted I am." 
 
 "At what?" said Harold, coldly; for, like all persons whose 
 consciences will make themselves heard sometimes, he Avas only 
 the )nore j)ertinacious in refusing advice. And like one angry 
 dog meeting another, the meetings of Sir Harold and Gerald 
 Herbert raised within the breast of each an instant spirit of 
 opposijtion, as the dogs' pugnacious feelings raised their bristles. 
 
 " The Wilcoxes, Sir Harold ; those poor creatures about 
 whom I have spoken to you so often." 
 
 " I know nothing about them," said Harold, the bristles of his 
 mind beginning to rise. 
 
 " Why, my dear felloAv," said the warm-hearted, energetic 
 rector, " you are repairing their place, you are roofing their 
 barns, you have lent them money to commence life anew, and 
 I honor you for it. I love you fti- rdusiiig yourself at last, 
 shaking off the dull, apathetic sloth that iulhralled you like a 
 coil of nets."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 109 
 
 " I know nothing of what you are speaking about, and I'll 
 thank you not to dictate a line of conduct to me," said Harold, 
 interrupting him, with every bristle in a perpendicular state. 
 
 Had Gerald said, coldly and deprecatinglj', " How foolish you 
 are to repair that old place ! " Harold was of that disposition, he 
 woidd have ordered it to be done at any cost. 
 
 Now the well-meaning, but injudicious Mr. Herbert had raised 
 a hornet's nest about him, and without in the least knowin": how 
 he could have offended, he yet was obliged to see Sir Harold 
 ride off in a high state of wrath and indignation. 
 
 " Your brother-in-law is a fool," said he, at last, to Lord 
 Erlscourt. 
 
 " He is injudicious, but no fool," said Basil. 
 
 " Did you hear all tliat rigmarole about apathy and sloth?" 
 
 " He is so active himself that he does not understand your 
 dolce far niente character." 
 
 " I wish his activity would not lead him to meddle with me 
 and my aftairs ; I wonder who has ordered the Wilcoxes' place 
 to be repaired. That was it we passed just now, with the work- 
 men about." 
 
 " It seemed to want it," said Basil, carelessly. 
 
 " I have no doubt it wanted it, and so does everything under 
 that rascal Price's care ; but I won't be dictated to by Herbert. 
 I shall find out who ordered those repairs, and have them 
 stopped." 
 
 Basil began talking of his intention, to have a yacht in the 
 ensuing summer. " In bringing up boys," said he, " I fancy it 
 a good thing to let them see a little of everything. My half- 
 brothers are fine fellows, but have a good deal of rather wild 
 blood in them. I mean, therefore, to try the experiment of 
 always keeping their active frames, and still more active minds, 
 in constant exercise." 
 
 In this sort of conversation Basil so beguiled the time, that 
 Harold became cool, and talkc I of having a yacht himself, Avith 
 evident interest. 
 
 On the two ladies, Margaret and Augusta, retiring after din- 
 ner, Harold began instantly to exclaim — (Basil had seen t!iat 
 something had occurred to disturb the smooth temper Avith 
 which they parted before dinner) — " Do you know it is Mar- 
 garet who ordered those repairs at the Wilcoxes. I have no 
 doubt that fellow Herbert set her on." 
 
 " I think he would not have greeted you in the manner he 
 did if he thought it had been Lady Leigh's act." 
 10
 
 110 MARGARET 
 
 " True, he did seem surprised, and also never mentioned 
 Margaret's name. Erlscourt, 1 had a scene with Margaret, the 
 first since we married. I did not know women could be so 
 obstinate. Bnt, however, I won't give in ; I said the AVilcoxes' 
 place should not bo repaired, and it shall not." 
 
 " I do not think Margaret is obstinate ; I have known her 
 from a child," said Basil. 
 
 " So you did, and, by-the-by, I often wondered you never fell 
 in love with her, Erlscourt. I did so with only looking at her, 
 much less speaking to her." 
 
 " I did," said Basil, in a low voice. 
 
 " How ! what ? " returned Harold, rousing himself. 
 
 " From the time I was ten years old, imtil I was two-and- 
 twenty, I loved your Margaret ; loved her, not with a boy's 
 uflection, not with a youth's fancy, but as a man, who gives his 
 heart unto the Eve of his Paradise, and sees no other woman, 
 knows no other love, feels nothing but that he would be her 
 Adam." 
 
 " This to me, her husband ? " 
 
 " This to you, her husband. Now listen ; from the time when, 
 a little feeble boy, I ran twelve miles through ihc forest paths, 
 more intent upon rescuing my sister from cruel treatment, than 
 any fate that might occur to me. I recall that painful, weary 
 journey, with pleasure — it introduced mc to Margaret. The 
 sorrows and hardships of my early years 1 learned to bless ; they 
 paved the way to my meeting INIargaret. I watched her as she 
 grew, month by month, year by year, gentle in spirit, but 
 strong in hne, pliant in small things, tirni in affection. I grew 
 impatient to take possession of this opening flower, and fearing 
 that I could not control myself, I went abroad to ])ass the time, 
 until her school-girl days were over. You camo and gathered 
 my cherished woodland flower." 
 
 " Dear Basil, I pity you. Had I but known, — no, I can say 
 nothing ; I feel I could not have given her up. My dear Basil, 
 on my soul, I pity you I " And he held out his hand, his heart 
 beating with emotion. 
 
 Basil grasped it cordially, continuing, " I knew her nature 
 BO well, that once her young heart was given, it was given for- 
 ever." 
 
 " I believe it," exclaimed Harold, as the image of the fair 
 young bride rose before his view, casting on him that one look 
 of love and gratitude. 
 
 " So I gave myself for a task, the purifying my heart of love
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. Ill 
 
 for her, so that it might be such as it ought, for the wife of 
 another man. And you will not credit my first confidence, if 
 you believe not the second ; my love for Margaret is as that of a 
 fond brother." 
 
 " I cannot but believe you, Basil, and I thank you for your 
 confidence. I think you have a motive in it — tell it me." 
 
 " You think Margaret but a loving, rather simple girl ! " 
 
 " She is loving, and, as you say, I think her more loving than 
 wise." 
 
 " Then you must believe the word of a man, who so loved her 
 before you ever saw her, that the innermost chamber of his heart 
 seems shut forever. She is more, much more." 
 
 " I shall think with pride, Basil, of the love she gained in so 
 noble a heart, even from a child." 
 
 " Then the object of my confidence is gained. Trust her, 
 you will never repent it ; consult her, you will have the advice 
 of a devoted heart and clear head. Let her be your helpmeet 
 indeed, and not the pretty, pleasant companion of your own 
 hours of pastime. Before you both are set other tasks to do." 
 
 " I understand you. But, Basil, tell me this : is it true that 
 your heart is closed against all love?" 
 
 "No, Harold," said Basil, smiling cheerfully ; '" against none. 
 In ray short life I have seen enough to know that protestations 
 do not become weak man. Depend upon it, the more vehement 
 and public his proclamation that his determination is fixed, and 
 his will, like the ancient laws of Medes and Persians, unalter- 
 able, then heaven and earth, man and beast, everything and 
 nothing, seem in a league together to make him eat his words." 
 
 " You never said anything more true ; I am a living instance 
 of it this day. For now you shall see if your lesson is thrown 
 away, or your confidence misplaced. Queen Margaret," said 
 he, opening the drawing-room door, " tell that rascal. Price, to 
 hurry on with Wilcox's place, and get it finished immediately." 
 
 Margaret's eyes looked up, with that one never-forgotten 
 look ; but she only said, " Thank you, Harold." 
 
 " You are quite right, Basil," whispered he, " she is remark- 
 ably sensible ; now, if she had gone off into heroics, and teased 
 me Avith ecstasies, I, perhaps, should have changed my mind 
 again. You saw that look ! Humph, well ! is not that worth 
 something? Ah ! my dear Basil, I forgot." 
 
 " Pray don't apologize," said Basil, laughing heartily at 
 Harold's change of countenance from the exulting to the com- 
 miserating ; "I wOl go and have a little flirtation with Miss 
 Clare."
 
 112 MARGARET 
 
 Harold Tras well content, and seated himself near his Mar- 
 garet, saying quietly, " Pretty, striking-looking girl ! but a poor 
 comjilimont to pay Margaret, if he does choose her after all." 
 
 Basil had estimated Harold's r-haractcr very justly. At pres- 
 ent he was only valuing his a\ ife according to the appreciation 
 of others : she was the best, sweetest, dearest wife in the world, 
 but nothing more. Now he looked at her to-night with, as it 
 were, new eyes, penetrating and observant. 
 
 Augusta really needed a little consolation. Sorely in her 
 heart dwelt Lotty's last words, inasmuch as she was quite aware 
 that her conduct had been such as to make the hint desirable. 
 That she must flirt was necessary to her existence — that is, she 
 tliought so. But in one or two instances, she had gone to such 
 gi-eat lengths, that, spite of her beauty and elegant carriage, 
 Lady Katheriue had much ado to restrain the indignant feelings 
 roused by her quondam favorite. It was not so nuich with 
 Philip and Lord Erlscourt ; but if they were not Avithin reach, 
 she ])lanted herself by the side -of the not always conscious 
 Harold, and disported herself at his expense. Once or twice 
 Lotty had made some sarcastic remarks, which only drew from 
 Augusta the words, " Margaret does not care ; what business is 
 it of yours?" Augusta had, beside, the uncomfortable feeling 
 of knowing that Lord Erlscourt was quite indill'crcut to her 
 charms and manners ; and she more tluin half suspected that 
 Pliilip Leigh had aljatod of his loyalty. And while she tried to 
 pooh-pooh the idea, that the odious little Bear had lured him 
 from his allegiance, it would force itself into notice, try all she 
 could. " Not outstay my welcome, indeed ! I will stay until I 
 have secured Philip Leigh, if it is only to spite that child, who, 
 I believe, thinks he is in love with her." What means she used, 
 liistory saith not ; but that she met Philip most days, both Mar- 
 garet and INIillicent knew. And they wei-e daily expecting tlie 
 announ<'cment of an engagement between them, when Margaret 
 was summoned to her father's dying bed. 
 
 In Jiastc and sorrow the party at Court Leigh broke up. Mil- 
 llccni and Cicrald Avere h-ft alone ; for T^ady Katiiorine had 
 deemed it proj)er to have Pro.'s marriage celebrated iu Loudon. 
 And the time drew near.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 113 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Ant excitement that Philip had been undergoing through 
 Auo'usta's instrumentality, was now gone, leaving a dull blank 
 behind. Moody, irritable, and murmuring, the image of the 
 little, wild, wicked thing forever haunted him. 
 
 " I will go," said he at last, " and demand her hand formally 
 of her father — anything is better than this horrid state of 
 uncertainty. If I am refused — I am refused ; but I will be 
 revenged." 
 
 Philip went, and was received at Beau-court in a truly hospi- 
 table manner. He was a Leigh, cousin to those Leighs who had 
 entertained their chieftain, their girl, and their kinsmen so hos- 
 pitably. It behooved the Beauvillians to show theirs in return 
 to so honored a guest. Philip's better nature expanded under 
 the frank, jovial hands of this hospitable tribe. Not a Beauvil- 
 lian but asked him to dine, sleep, sup, live with him ; and when, 
 after three weeks' sojourn among them, any one had asked their 
 opinion of Philip Leigh, every Beauvillian, from his heart, 
 would have exclaimed, " He is a right good fellow." But a 
 deep silence fell on the whole tribe, when Philip publicly and 
 formally demanded the hand of their girl. They were like bees 
 just learning that theu* queen was gone, and then, like bees, 
 rushed into a frantic commotion. Not even her birth created a 
 greater sensation. 
 
 " Our girl is asked in marriage," said one to the other when 
 they met. 
 
 " A right worthy fellow," says the other, back again. 
 
 " She is young," says one. 
 
 " To be asked in marriage," says the other. 
 
 " But she is so sensible," says one. 
 
 " Yes, wonderful," says the other. 
 
 "Will she have him?" says one. 
 
 " She won't leave her father," says the other. 
 
 " I knew it," said both. 
 
 At Beau-court a full conclave was held ; Philip in the midst, 
 opposite Mr. Beauvilliers. " AVe duly appreciate your offer — 
 we respect you, Mr. Leigh ; but my little child, my pretty Lotty 
 — I have not long to live, and I could not live that short time 
 without her." Thus said Mr. BeauvUliers, and all his kinsmen 
 
 10*
 
 114 MARGARET 
 
 echoed his words — " The child must not be separated from her 
 father." 
 
 " Never ! O, never ! " said Philip, earnestly ; " I will wait, 
 wait montlis, years. I Avill leave my hoiue altogether, and live 
 only amongst you, if I may but hope." 
 
 "■Wtv handf^ome proposal — very generous. How he loves 
 her ! Excellent young man ! he deserves her." Thus exclaimed* 
 the Beauvillians, while the aged father clasped Philip's hand, 
 and said, "■ Sir, that removes my difficulty. I own that I would 
 wish to take to her mother the assurance that her little daughter 
 was happy in the afiections of a fond husband, as she herself 
 was. 1 own that I should like to know my little one's likely lot, 
 ere I leave her. Now it seems to me, sir, that I would rather 
 give her to you than any one that I know ; for you bear the 
 name of Leigh, the name she likes so much ; you live near the 
 being whom she loves next to her father. If, sir, you can gain 
 her affections, and if you will dwell here, with me, at Bcau- 
 cotu't, until I receive my last summons, take her, and, with her, 
 my heartl'elt, soul-breathed prayers for you both." 
 
 Philip kissed tlie old man's hand with deep emotion, and good 
 and noble thoughts filled his soul, reflecting themselves through 
 his eyes, so as to make the good Beauvillians think, as they 
 gazed upon him, " he is worthy of our girl." 
 
 So she was sent for, innocent little victim, to give her answer 
 befoi'e the scrutinizing eyes of her loving kinsmen. 
 
 She entered the room in Jicr simple white frock, her large hat 
 full of autumn roses, her great Bear by her side. She took her 
 seat in an imconccrued and simple manner, on her usual place, 
 her father's chair. 
 
 "IMy little Lotty, you know that Mr. Philip demands your 
 hand in marriage." 
 
 " Yes, iatlier," said Lotty, throwing a rose at the big Bear. 
 
 " AVe consent to the marriage, if you do, dearest one." 
 
 " I do not mean to marry," said Lotty. 
 
 '• I know, my pet, you will not leave me. But Mr. Leigh will 
 quit liis own home, and settle among us, while I remain with 
 my Lotty on earth ; then I shall know when 1 am gone that she 
 is in tlie cai'e ui' a kind husband." 
 
 " T am too young to marry," again said Lotty. 
 
 *•• Young in years, my darling, yet old in thouglit and wisdom. 
 But yruir fond old fatlier woidd like to know that you had a 
 home of your own. thougli 1 know full well every home amongst 
 us is 0])cu to you."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 115 
 
 "It Is, it is— we should be proud — all we have — nothing 
 should we delight in so much, as to give a home to our girl." 
 
 It was some time ere order could be restored ; the vehemence 
 with which every Beauvilliau spoke from his heart was very 
 nearly ending in a scene ; for Bear began to fancy some one was 
 about to hurt his little mistress. 
 
 However, order being restored, again Mr. Beauvilliers spoke : 
 " Mr. Leigh seems in every vray worthy of my Lotty, though 
 perhaps we don't think any one can be quite. Then, when time 
 carries you to your new home, you will live near your beloved 
 school-fellow, Lady Leigh." 
 
 For the first time Lotty looked up, as if listening. " Don't 
 you thiuk, father, I am very young to marry ? " 
 
 " You are, my child, and I should not urge it, but for the 
 reasons I have mentioned before. I should wish to see you 
 married ere I die." 
 
 " Do you Avish me to marry Philip Leigh, father? " 
 
 " If you can love him, yes, my child." 
 
 Lotty lifted up those matchless, radiant eyes, and looked at 
 Philip. He returned her glance, with the feelings so lately men- 
 tioned glowing from his eyes. " I wiU try, father, if you wish 
 it." 
 
 Philip fell on one knee, and kissed the little hand half held out 
 to him. " I desire no more — I will ask no more," he said. 
 " Deeply do I thank you for the permission you have given me." 
 
 As the Beauvillians afterwards declared to each other, " The 
 scene was beautiful ; the young man behaved in the most noble, 
 
 charming manner ; and as for their girl " But such ecstat- 
 
 ics can only be tolerated among the Beauvillians themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Maegaret arrived in time to see her father alive, receive his 
 blessing, and watch his aged eyes linger proudly on the features 
 of her noble boy. Then, Avith his hand clasped within that of his 
 wife, he said, " I think, Auue, we did Avell to let our Margaret 
 marry," and so fell asleep, with the happy smile of content on 
 his lips. A few words, only audible to that fond and faitliful 
 ear, " I feel at peace with God and man," were uttered by those
 
 116 MARGARET 
 
 feeble lips, and then they spoke no more. From sleep he passed 
 into his immortal life. 
 
 Margaiet and her mother mourned together, and the kind, 
 ever-ready Ba^il took charge of Harold. It needed little on his 
 part to increa.'^e Harold's esteem and atlection for him. 
 
 At no moment of the day was Lord Erlscourt unemployed ; 
 and, as he seemed to count upon Harold's help and assistance in 
 all he did, the latter found himself become unaccountably a 
 man of business. 
 
 " My dear fellow," would Basil say, " you Avill help me 
 amazingly if you would continue marking that plantation for me 
 tliat we began yesterday. I have to be oil' twelve miles iu 
 a different direction to attend a county court." 
 
 80 Harold would blaze away at the trees half the day, and 
 get quite excited about the number. 
 
 l\'rliaj)S Basil would say, " Here is rather a difficult case to 
 settle between the keepers and some wood stealers ; will you, 
 Leigh, kindly hear the matter over for me? They generally 
 imairine 1 am interested." 
 
 So Harold would cull forth his best judgment, and really 
 looked like a pleased school-boy when Basil remarked, " How 
 quick you are, Harold, at judging character." 
 
 Sometimes they would visit buildings under repair, so that 
 during the month of Margaret's seclusion, rarely did Harold re- 
 turn to her, after a hard day's work with Basil, l)ut in happier, 
 licaltliier, more genial glow than when he left. And Margaret 
 blessed Basil in her heart. 
 
 One day she said to Harold, " My kind father has left me 
 fifteen thousand pounds; will you, dear Harold, take it, and use 
 it to put our estate iu some such order as tliis is?" 
 
 '• I don't lliiiik we can do it. Queen JMeg. The people there 
 are so dilferent from here. They are not grateful." 
 
 " Tliey are very grateful, but they have never had cause to 
 show gratitude to us." 
 
 " "Well, iMeg, I will think about it. Some how, I fancy 
 nothing good at Court Leigli." 
 
 " Dear Iliirold, our home, tlie birthplace of our boy ! " 
 
 " All very true ; but there must be something obstinate and 
 aggravating iu the air." 
 
 Margaret laughed, an<l said, " ()! if you are joking, I sliall 
 say no more ; but 1 will s|)end my money as I ciioose." 
 
 " Ah I I SCO you find Hampshire air just as bad for your con- 
 stitution as I do Cheshire. But listen, wife. I am about to
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 117 
 
 leave you for a few days ; Basil is going to Cowes, to see after a 
 yacht he fancies, and if I see one I like, I shall buy it also. You 
 won't fear letting me away from your apron-strings, with such a 
 nurse as Basil to look after your big baby." 
 
 '^ No, no ! " said Margaret ; " but you will -write often? " 
 
 " Every hour, I suppose," said Harold. 
 
 " I should like that ; but I will let you off, and ask for a 
 letter only every other day," returned Margaret. 
 
 "We are also going to make an excursion to see his boys, 
 as he calls them. If they have been good, they are to go with 
 us to see the yacht, it being principally for their amusement that 
 he buys one." 
 
 " How good Basil is." 
 
 " Extraordinary, Queen Meg ; and I have generally a horror 
 of such sorts of kine ; they seem to be a perpetual species of 
 blister or repi'oach. But Basil is so fearless and independent, so 
 daring, if I may use the word. He is first in all the night- 
 watches we have been lately having, and does all those sorts of 
 manly things ; yet he is as kind-hearted, tender, and good as a 
 woman — as you, Margaret." 
 
 " I hope he is rather more firm in character tlian I am. But 
 when do you go ? " 
 
 " To-mom'ow." 
 
 Harold kept his word for a few days, and wrote, as promised, 
 very happy letters. 
 
 " I have seen the boys," said one, " those wicked little fellows 
 that used to plague Basil's life out at Erlscourt, and you would 
 not know them. They are splendid fellows to look at, rather of 
 the gypsy or Spanish order ; and then their love for Basil is 
 quite wonderful — a word or look from him is enough. He 
 must be an extraordinary character thus to have tamed down 
 those two cubs. They make such a handsome picture, the fair 
 Saxon Basil and the two Murillo-looking boys hanging about 
 him, all looking one more happy than another. 
 
 " I have bought a yacht, and ordered her to be refitted and 
 got ready for a summer cruise ; also, I have determined to call 
 her ' The Marguerite,' after some one whom I am not supposed 
 to love much ; or if you prefer the namd" of ' The Pearl,' write 
 and say so — it expresses your name as well. By the by, I met 
 your friend, Miss Clare, looking Avretchedly ill. They say she 
 has been jilted by Philip ; but Philip writes and tells me he is 
 -engaged to your Lotty. I am afraid Philip has been a sad dog 
 — and really, of the two, Miss Clare is best-lookiug, your Lotty
 
 118 MARGARET 
 
 is such a child. However, I cheered her np, and invited her to 
 take a cruise with us iu the summer. She did not seem to me in 
 good humor eidier." 
 
 lu another letter, he stated, " that Basil had also bought his 
 yacht, and meant to call her ' The Ripple.' That he had at- 
 tended a very gay wedding, the bride being Margaret's last re- 
 maining bridesmaid. 1 fancy," continued Harold, in the letter, 
 " that is what has been troubling Miss Clare's nerves. Here 
 you are, all married now, excepting herself, and she was de- 
 cidedly the most striking among you in personal appearance. It 
 required a diseorning i'cllow, like myself, to select the flower from 
 this flock. If you will grant me longer leave of absence, I intend 
 to take a run up to London, to see Pro. married ; and I have 
 met a few old friends here also. I leave Basil to go home by 
 himself." 
 
 Harold was absent about a month, and then returned to take 
 Margaret home. His presence was necessary there, too. Mat- 
 ters had come to tliat pass on the estates of Court Leigh, that 
 Harold's late trial of business, under Basil's tuition, was likely 
 to be called into immediate and sharp requisition. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 TnouoH Philip was in the enviable position of Lotty's ac- 
 cepted lover, and ought to liave been, and was considered to be, 
 in the seventh heaven, he felt himself, at times, in just the oppo- 
 site condition. The little, wild, wicked thing was wilder, more 
 wicked than ever to him. Loving, dutiful, and incessant in her 
 attentions to her father, merry, Imppy. and affect icmate to all her 
 relations, doting on tlie big Bear, to Piiilip she was a provoking, 
 leasing, everhisting torment. He chafed and fumed himself into 
 a fever, and tlien shivered and shook himself out of it. 
 
 " Lotty," he said, at hist, in a sort of fit of desperation, ''is 
 this the sort of way in whit-h you mean me to court you for my 
 wife?" 
 
 " I never asked you to marry me ; indeed I almost broke my 
 neck to avoid paining you by a refusal." 
 
 " You did," he sai<1, his eyes flashing, " you did, indeed; and 
 I shall never forget your kindness."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 119 
 
 " I never imagined, after that hint," said Lotty, quietly, " you 
 would trouble yourself about me again." 
 
 " Trouble myself? Ah, Lotty, if you would but hear me. I 
 would tell you that my feelings are " 
 
 " Stay !" said Lotty, "let us be serious. Do you mean really 
 you are in earnest in your desire to make me your wife?" 
 
 " Good heavens ! Avhat ha^e I done to make you think other- 
 wise for a moment?" cried Philip. 
 
 " I did not imagine that a man of your age and experience 
 would, in reality, wish to bind himself down for life to one so 
 childish in every way, so deficient in all the requisite qualities 
 of a wife. Nay ! hear me out, Mr. Leigh. Oue also of whom 
 you know so little ; Avho has, in no way, returned your affection, 
 who does not even wish to make the trial. Come, confess now 
 at once that your fancy is over, and that you and Lotty will ever 
 be friends, but not lovers." 
 
 Philip pressed his hand over his heart, which raged with in- 
 ward passion, as he heard these calm, cool words. His lips 
 grew white, his cheek pale. 
 
 " O Philip ! " said Lotty, startled, " what is the matter ; are 
 you ill?" 
 
 " And it is thus," he gasped out at length, " that you consider 
 a passion Avhich is more to me than life." 
 
 "Nay, you must excuse me," said Lotty. "Remember, I 
 have seen you with Augusta Clare. But I go to bring you some 
 water." 
 
 During her absence, Philip gave voice to his passion, though 
 alone. 
 
 " Wild, Avilful, wicked, little thing, she shall be mine ; hers is 
 the spirit I have often longed to curb and break in. I will make 
 her love me ; she shall — madly, wildly, devotedly as I love even 
 the shadow of her form, it shall be the business of my life to make 
 her love me as vehemently. Hitherto, no love has entered her 
 heart ; as yet she is, as she says, a child. No matter ; I mean 
 so to act, that, with her father's consent, I keep my vantage 
 gi'ound here. But this strange, weary feeling at my heart — 
 what can it mean ? " 
 
 Lotty left him immediately after bringing the water, and 
 Philip felt that it was as well, for his passion had overcome 
 him. He had now to learn, if he had never known it before, 
 that to nurse and cherish an evil disease in one's heart, must 
 wear out that heart in some way.
 
 120 MARGARET 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 As has been intimated, the Beauvilliers were not so wise as 
 they were amiable. Philip laid hiiuself out to please them all, 
 and -was as devoted in his attentions to Mr. Beauvilliers as bis 
 dearest sou. 
 
 The old man began to look upon and treat him as such ; and 
 •while his mortal disease grew stronger, his mental faculties and 
 discernment seemed to centre themselves more particularly on 
 "what was around him, than a more enlarged space. With 
 Philip always at hand to insinuate bis hopes and Avishes, no 
 wonder the fond old father grew to think that his Lotty's 
 invariable silence on the subject, and unchanging manner, were 
 assumed. Only for his sake was she thus driving from her the 
 love of one he deemed so deserving of her. 
 
 In the Avaywardness of disease, he Avould have taken the 
 matter in his own hands and settled it at once, but that Philip 
 besought him not to hurry her. He would trust to time and her 
 own wishes, he said, for which Mr. Beauvilliers loved him the 
 more, without perceiving that Philip knew his best chance was 
 patience. He saAv sufficient determination in Lotty's eyes to 
 make him fear that, even coidd he gain her father's orders, she 
 yet might disobey him. He determined to sound her. 
 
 " Lotty, you give me no chance, you allow me no opportunity 
 of becoming better acquainted Avith the A\omau 1 Avish to make 
 my Avit'e." 
 
 " I think, Mr. Leigh," said Lotty, carefully intending to aA'oid 
 irritating him as she had done last time, " that you mistake ; 
 we are always together." 
 
 " Yes ; by yoin- father's chair, or Avith others in company ; but 
 you never permit me to Avalk out Avith you in the early morning. 
 Save one touch of your hand night and morning, you alloAv me 
 not one single privilege that might be bestoAved on your lover." 
 
 ''You are not my lover," returned Lotty ; "you cannot be; 
 you and I judge differently of the love that should subsist be- 
 tween husl)and and Avife." 
 
 " And Avhat is your idea?" said Pliilip, eagerly. 
 
 " Look arouiiil you, and i)lace before your mental vision all 
 the married criuples you know. See if, out of all, one half have 
 not undertaken duties they cannot perform, sAvorn oaths that they
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 121 
 
 all but forswear ; let ns not do the same. I know I am not 
 fitted to be your wife ; I have not that confidence and esteem for 
 your character I must have belore I can marry you." 
 
 "Why not?" said Philip, with a dark frown. 
 
 " You have not acted well by Miss Clare. I know by her 
 letters that you have permitted her to think she has gained your 
 affections." 
 
 " On my honor, Lotty, on my sacred oath, I have never done 
 so," said Philip, ardently ; " and tell me, do you like me so 
 little, do you even wish to punish me so much, that you give me 
 Augusta Clare for a wife ? " 
 
 "No, no," said Lotty ; "but I do not esteem the man who can 
 flirt with another woman for his own amusement. Miss Clare 
 has in reality very strong feelings when roused ; and I am cer- 
 tain, that with real love in her heart, you will find her very unlike 
 the person she has hitherto appeared." 
 
 " Never, never, Lotty ! for Heaven's sake, name her not again 
 in comparison to yourself." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Leigh, can you not perceive how frightful it must 
 be to enter into so solemn an en2;ao:ement without the boundless 
 store of love, which needs large portions to be poured out on 
 "many emergencies, and yet lose nothing, but rather gain, the 
 more the stream flows ? " 
 
 " I have enough for us both, Lotty ; my love for you is bound- 
 less as the sea, inexhaustible as the sand on its shore." 
 
 " Nay, Mr. Leigh, your love is lifeless without mine." 
 
 " Do you mean to say you cannot love? " 
 
 " Yes, but not now. I am too young — I must not be forced. 
 Look at Lady Leigh and Mrs. Herbert ; good, amiable, matchless 
 as they are, in their wife's devotion, can you think they are as 
 well mated as their virtues deserve ? I would wish ever to look 
 up to and honor my husband." 
 
 " Tell me what you would wish him to be, that I may try to 
 learn." 
 
 " He must be so noble in heart that he would trust me as him- 
 self; he must be full of that confiding love and faith, so as to 
 disdain to think of his wife as having a separate thought or heart 
 from himself. Fi'ankly, kindly, nobly must he ever judge me, as 
 I would him." 
 
 " You are speaking of " Philip stopped as abruptly as 
 
 he had commenced, his eyes gleaming. 
 
 " I am speaking of no one in particular," said Lotty. 
 
 " Well," said Philip, breathing quick, " if nothing that I cau 
 11
 
 122 MARGARET 
 
 say of my love and devotion moves you, think of your father's 
 ■wishes." 
 
 '• .Something has blinded my father," said Lotty, lowly and 
 sadly. 
 
 " But you would obey him?" said Philip, eagerly. 
 
 " He has never yet asked me to do what I did not like," said 
 Lotty. 
 
 And that was all he obtained iu this conversation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI . 
 
 But Philip's suspense was shorter than even he, in his eager- 
 ness, expected. 
 
 One night Mr. Beauvilliers was seized with spasms of the 
 heart. After hours of protracted agony, during which the pale 
 little daughter, with eyes distended from intense anxiety into 
 supernatural brilliance and size, never left his pillow. 
 
 Philip was incessant in his attentions, and gained many a 
 look of gratitude, if not love, from those Avistful eyes. "With 
 his strong arms he helped the ever-attentive sons to move the 
 restless, aged sutferer ; and no domaud lor assisjtance was made, 
 but Philip was at hand to give it. In his devoted attentions to 
 the father, he seemed to lose sight of himself and Lotty ; and the 
 loving daughter repaid him well for this forgetfulness of self, by 
 her unreserved manner and quiet appreciation of his services. 
 
 Philip tasted, for this brief period, an extraordinary feeling 
 of content and self-respect, such as those who act trom a feeling 
 of duty and disinterestedness must ever do. But the feeling was 
 short as it was blest. 
 
 Towards midday, as Mr. Beauvilliers grew calmer, and longer 
 intervals of repose were given him, Philip could perceive that 
 his eyes often rested on himself and Lotty, with a wistful look. 
 A wild hope shot through Philip's heart, that now, even now, 
 was Lotty's hist filial duty to be demanded and ])iiid. No gen- 
 erous determination of honor and l'orl)eariincc lound place iu that 
 wildly-beating heart ; she must be his, with or without her love. 
 
 " My darling, wo had almost parted," said tlie dying man ; 
 " another struggle, such as this, and I shall be with your mother 
 iu heaven."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 123 
 
 She kissed his pale forehead, so lately contracted with 
 agony. 
 
 " My pet, let me see you a wife ere I die." 
 
 " O father." 
 
 " It will make me happy, Lotty." 
 
 *' I am ready, father." 
 
 Pliilip heard the words, and with eager looks was by her side. 
 
 *' Give your father this satisfaction, Lotty ; I will not claim 
 one moment of your time while he lives." 
 
 " Father," said Lotty, unheeding him, " what is a wife's 
 duty?" 
 
 " Do your duty, my darling, but half as well to your hus- 
 band as you have done to your father, and no wife will match 
 you." 
 
 " What is my duty, ftxther ? " 
 
 " To be a helpmeet to him ; to be his companion, friend 
 adviser. All this I know you can do, Lotty." 
 
 " All this I can do, father." 
 
 " Then send your brothers here." 
 
 Mr. Beauvilliers explained his ardent wishes to see his chil- 
 dren around him. 
 
 " I think I should die happier if I took with me to her mother 
 the assurance that she is a Avife, and settled. You, my sons, 
 are all married, and, I doubt not, would each give your Lotty a 
 home ; but I should like to tell her mother she is about to make 
 a worthy man happy, even as her mother made me." 
 
 A low murmur of approbation greeted his words. 
 
 " Then make preparation for my Lotty's marriage, by my 
 bed-side. Tell our kind kinsmen, that ' the girl's ' man'iage is 
 not celebrated as they, I know, would wish, but God wills it oth- 
 erwise. They must pray for her happiness. And, Philip " 
 
 here Philip advanced, his usually grave face and serious eyes 
 lightened up with a joy and eagerness, that only confirmed Mr. 
 Beauvilliers still more in the execution of his wishes. He 
 looked long and earnestly at him, then, apparently well content, 
 he said slowly, — " My child is a Beauvilliers, truthful, simple, 
 just, and affectionate. Restore her to me unchanged." 
 
 " On my soul, I promise," said Philip. 
 
 As if well content, Mr. Beauvilliers fell into a calm slumber, 
 his hand, so vast, yet so shrivelled and helpless, holding the 
 little white one of the loving daughter. He heeded not that, 
 unlike its usual warm, life-like touch, it was now passive and 
 cold. Motionless she sat on his pillow, so still, so calm, so
 
 124 MARGARET 
 
 apparently bereft of life and feeling, she might have been a 
 statue. 
 
 And the contrast was all the greater, from the hurried prep- 
 arations that were going on in other parts of the house. 
 
 Some brothers went in search of the clergyman, others, with 
 Philip, went for the (special license ; and such was the haste and 
 despatch with which all worked, to fulfil their dying chiers last 
 wishes, that by the evening every thing was in readiness for the 
 inaiTiage. 
 
 In the silent presence of many BeauvilHaus, by the quiet bed- 
 side of her dying father, Philip took that little cold hand in his, 
 and demanded it in marriage ; she neither looked at him nor 
 spoke. Slowly she obeyed her father's whispered Avish : " Go, 
 my best one ; " and leaving her place on the pillow, stood by 
 Philip's side, with her eyes still resting on her father. She 
 started as she heard Philip's distinct, and, as it seemed, tri- 
 umphant voice, as he made the responses. She spoke hers in a 
 voice like low, sighing music ; and Avhile " honor " and " obey " 
 were Avords distinctly heard, the clergyman bent his head in 
 vain for the one syllable — "love." lie paused, but Pliilip im- 
 patiently beckoned him to go on ; and, perhaps impelled by the 
 extraordinary circumstances under which the marriage Avas cel- 
 ebrated, he proceeded with the ceremony. 
 
 As the last words Avere spoken, befoi-e Philip had time to 
 claim her as his Avife, Lotty Avas again seated on her father's pil- 
 loAv ; the hand so lately dead and cold in his Avas once more 
 nestled in lier father's dying clasp. 
 
 And thus nuitters Aveut on for three AA'eeks. During that 
 time slie Avas never absent from licr father's pilloAv more than 
 five minutes at a time. Philip visibly gained groimd in iicr esti- 
 mation, by the devotedness of his attentions, and his apparent 
 forgetfulness of any claim he might now have upon her. She 
 seemed to be still as free as if no marriage had taken place. 
 
 But Avhen the last Avords Avere said, Avlien the last look Avas 
 given, and the last sigh received, the Avild burst of grief that 
 broke from Lotty's heart appalled him at lirst. TIk^ depth, the 
 strength, the ferA'or of her attachmfut, opened to him thi' true 
 nature of her character, and lie rejoiced in it. " She shall love 
 me in this manner ; I should die content to be thus mourned." 
 
 ]\Iany Aveeks elapsed before their bi-loved and idolized girl 
 could be said to recover her father's death. And if anything 
 could have reconciled them iiujre than another to her hasty mar- 
 riage, it Avas to see the gentle care Avith Avhich Philip attended
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 125 
 
 her, the devotion he paid to her slightest wish. He did it, it is 
 true, from the purest feelings of love. Nevertheless, there was 
 an old black spot in his heart not yet rooted out, that made him 
 say, time upon time, to himself, " She shall reward me for all 
 this forbearance hereafter," And perhaps he was not so skilful 
 in veiling his true feelings to Lotty, as he was to her kinsmen ; 
 for she showed no increase of affection during this period of 
 sorrow. 
 
 After a time, it was agi-eed that, perhaps, a change to her 
 new home, and return to the society of her beloved Margaret, 
 would prove beneficial in every way to her health and spirits. 
 
 The considerate Beauvillians refrained from trying her shat- 
 tered nerves, by coming to bid her a personal farewell ; but the 
 trees and bushes gave shelter to affectionate eyes, watching the 
 departure of the beloved one. Her eldest brother lifted her 
 little light, faded form into the carriage ; Philip took his place 
 by her side ; she neither spoke nor moved, until they came to 
 the lodge. There a last group of anxious kinsmen were as- 
 sembled. Lotty raised her head, the large tears rolled down her 
 face ; she had passed the gates, and with a passionate sob, she 
 sunk back in the carriage. 
 
 Philip drew down the blinds, and wrapping her up closely, he 
 folded one arm round her, then raising her face to his, kissed 
 her once or twice, saying, softly : " My wife ! " — the little 
 head laid itself down on his shoulder, and after a few convul- 
 sions of grief, the sobs grew less, the tumultuous heavings 
 stopped, the heavy eyes closed, and Lotty slept, like a little 
 weary, worn-out child. 
 
 But Philip could hear the beatings of his own heart, as he 
 thought that now this idolized little being was really his own, 
 that he held the " little wild, wicked thing " in his close em- 
 brace, had at last called her his wife, and touched her soft cheek 
 with his lips. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Pro.'s marriage had been celebrated with all the ceremony 
 and etiquette Lady Katherine could desire ; though necessarily 
 in a quiet Avay, because of Mr. Beauvilliers' precarious health, 
 and Sir Thomas Montaixu's demise. 
 
 11*
 
 126 MARGARET 
 
 The day was chiefly remarkable from other weddings, by the 
 fact, that as the happy pair drove from the door, Pru. fell into 
 hysterics. 
 
 Lady Katherinc sat down and looked at her, in bewildered 
 amazement. A .sort of notion was running through lier head, 
 that the gentle Pru. was suddenly possessed by an evil spirit. 
 She gazed at her in awe, and a remembrance of the old-fash- 
 ioned picture, often to be seen in ancient Bibles, of tlie herd of 
 swine, where numerous little black demons are discovered 
 dancing out of the porcine mouths, beset her with a qualm of 
 fear. 
 
 Luckily, ladies' maids are so educated, as to be able to take 
 out a diploma in tlie matter of hysterics ; and two or three of 
 them having administered the usual amount of pattings, scold- 
 ings, coaxings, poor dears, and sal volatile, to Lady Katherine's 
 infinite relief, no further catastrophe happened, but that Pru. 
 was put sobbing to bed. 
 
 Everybody was settled in his and her proper home. Mar- 
 garet and Harold at Court Leigh ; Lady Katherinc and the hys- 
 terical Pru. at Roseleigh : ^lillicent and Gerald at the Rectory. 
 
 Tlie first smile that Philip saw on his wife's face since the 
 death of her father, was brought into being by Pru. She saw 
 the carriage pass the Avindow, on its way to Court Leigh, 
 whither Pliilip was taking Lotty for a drive ; and, in theexcite- 
 ment of her feelings, she ran out, just as she was, without bon- 
 net or shawl, and tlii'owing her arms round Lotty, as she de- 
 scended from the carriage, exclaimed, " Dearest, darling Lotty ! 
 I am so jrlad to see von I " 
 
 Lotty duly appreciated the warm aifection displayed, in a 
 manner unprecedented on the part of a Miss Leigii ; and while 
 Khe returned the embrace, had almost her usual manner ; espe- 
 cially when, picking up Pru.'s knotting, it was discovered that 
 though the knotting was there, the other end, all unwound, was 
 to be traced all through the garden, Tosing itself in the window, 
 out of which Pru. had sprung with such loving activity. 
 
 Margaret and ^lillicent could have wi'j)t over the change in 
 their little wild Lotty ; but the least show of feeling on their 
 part only made the lips turn white as the cheek, though no word 
 passed them, no tear of relief dinuned her bright eyes. They 
 saw she was struggling Avith her sitrrow, but with a resolute 
 heart to conquer it ; and only did they show their perception of 
 her eilorts, by tlie ready love aiul aHet'tion with which they ])ro- 
 moted all sorts of schemes and pleasures to amuse her. Philip
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. • 127 
 
 seemed to have no pleasure, no business, no thought, independ- 
 ent of Lotty ; and appeared to live but to administer to her 
 wishes. 
 
 From the first -week after their arrival, they Avere visited now 
 and then by one of Lotty's brothers or uncles ; who, loni^ as the 
 journey was, never said why they came, or what made tliem go 
 away the next day. Philip's hot temper was beginning to chafe, 
 imder what he considered a surveillance. Lotty may have per- 
 ceived it, for she begged the last one who came, to entreat the 
 others to be at ease about her. She would write constantly ; she 
 was strong enough now to ride and walk about. They could see 
 that she was gradually, though slowly, recovering her health 
 and spirits ; and the good Beauvillians, thinking it but natural 
 that Philip should be assured that he had not married the whole 
 family, took leave of their Lotty, and left her, in the confidence 
 of their fine natures, to the husband her father had selected 
 for her. 
 
 But Lotty was to write ; O, yes, Lotty must not let one week 
 pass without writing. And her nurse, who had lived with her 
 from the hour of her birth, now her maid, was to write too. 
 And so Lotty began her new life. 
 
 Harold Avas changed, and very much for the better too, in all, 
 excepting one thing, and that the most important — his dislike 
 to Gerald Herbert increased. He went to church only to scoiF 
 and rail at the preacher ; only to murmur and find fault with 
 Avliat he called the " canting parson." 
 
 Margaret would endeavor, in her gentle, persuasive way, to 
 point out the beautiful truths, the lofty hopes, held out in 
 Gerald's eloquent words ; the rigid self-denial of his life, the 
 uncompromising zeal with which he performed his duty ; the 
 truth with which he acted his favorite text, namely, " I am wil- 
 ling to spend and be spent for you." With the perverseness of 
 a mind that would persist in its wrong judgment, he Avould not 
 even give Gerald credit for what he deserved. 
 
 A poor, simple-hearted curate, Avith plain Avords and homely 
 truths, was more suited to Harold's state of mind, than the 
 gifted, almost inspired Gerald ; and for this reason : Harold's 
 heart, as regarded religion, Avas as a little child's ; the "strong 
 meat" he could not yet bear — the "milk 6f the AA^ord" Avas 
 alone fit for him at present. And beino: unable to brino- his craze 
 up to the level of Gerald's heaven-seeing eyes, he took refuge, 
 as many men have done before him, in despising Avhat he could 
 not understand.
 
 128 MARGARET 
 
 Gerald, on Ills part, had forgotten, that " he must be all things 
 to all men, if by any means he might save some." Schooled 
 and exorcisi'd us his own heart had become, he no longer re- 
 membered the weuknesses of man's natui'e, but deemed a duty 
 undone, a fault committed, as so many commandments broken 
 or forgotten ; and " the eye must be j)luckcd out, the hand cut 
 off," ere the sin could be forgiven. No latitude was allowed, 
 no fault considered venial, no excuse was deemed valid. Per- 
 fection was his aim ; and this to a man Avhose education had 
 been based on no religious principles ; this to a congregatiou 
 who were ignorant of the conunonest duties of Christianity. 
 No wonder that the rector was more feared than loved, more 
 Avondered at than respected. 
 
 It was different with his wife. She taught the holy truths 
 that her husband wished to force on his people by example ; and 
 a word from the gentle lips of his wife proved often more per- 
 suasive than Gerald's most eloquent appeal. Neither Harold 
 nor his people were ready or fitted to strike at once into the high 
 path of duty pointed out by their rector. 
 
 Lady Katherine, though considered a religious Avoman, had 
 lived lor the most part of her life in those times where a regular 
 attendance at church, spending the .Sunday in reading sermons 
 and good books, taking the Holy Sacrament twice a year with 
 the duo amount of i)n'parati()n required by the little manual 
 called " The Week's I'reparatiou," caused her to be considered 
 very devout. And, as we have intimated, she was not naturally 
 gifted with sulficient perception to distinguish a habit from a 
 duty. She had been called a religious woman ; she considered 
 herself one. To be told she was a siimer, poor, naked, blind, 
 and helpless, was repugnant t<» her feelings, contrary to every 
 idea she had been indulging in ior nearly seventy years. So 
 she joined with her sou in disliking, not to say despising, their 
 new rector. 
 
 Margaret and Millicent patiently hoped for the best ; trying, 
 in their loviug woman's nature, to sdften all ruggedncss, all 
 bushes and briars iu the patiis of their lords. 
 
 Harold really exerti.l hiniseU". At first matters went on very 
 ■well. It was agreeable to go to dilferent farm-houses with his 
 agent ; order tlu-m instantly to be repaired ; liave tlie heartfelt 
 thanks of the tenants, and the tearful blessings of tlieii- wives, 
 poun^d upon his doings. Also, he was interested in plans that 
 were subinitt<'d to hini, and, the weather not beintr as vet \erv 
 Lot, he rode about and walched their progress iu cxecutiou ; and
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 129 
 
 was pleased Avith himself when he suggested improvements, and 
 they were deemed worthy to be carried out. Tiresome as Price 
 had been, yet as Sir Harold now seemed determined to look 
 after his own atfairs, no more impediments were thrown in his 
 way. All seemed to go on delightfully smooth and pleasant. 
 Basil was duly informed, by the self-pleased Harold and the 
 delighted Margaret, of the happy state of affairs ; and was be- 
 sought to come and see the effects caused originally by him alone, 
 and to assist with his further advice. 
 
 But Basil knew the besetting sin of the Leisjhs. Harold must 
 reform himself by sui-e and slow degrees. Dependent upon an- 
 other, the cure would never be complete. 
 
 Tliat he had some annoyances to contend Avith, Margaret ex- 
 pected ; and, though Harold fi'etted and fumed about them, they 
 were not of so grave a nature as to cause any serious interrup- 
 tion. So summer came on apace, and with the green leaves 
 came fairer hopes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 LoTTY was once more herself, and Philip, as he watched her 
 playing like a very child with her great Bear, Avondered at the 
 intense love that burned in his heart for that little wild thins. 
 And did she love him? This question he asked himself, day 
 and night, hour by hour, and he could not ansAver it. 
 
 Happy, frank, and unrestrained as ever, the butterflies of the 
 hour seemed not more free from care, more intent upon being 
 satisfied Avith whatever flower came in their Avay. 
 
 Fond terms of endearment were showered upon Bear, caresses 
 and loving words to Margaret, merry, mirthful ones to Pru. 
 What to him? He kncAv not, he could not tell, he could not 
 define her feelings toAvards him. 
 
 He had but to express a Avish ; she said, " Yes, Philip," and 
 it was done. Did she intend riding, and he said he Avished to 
 walk, she Avould come doAvn in her Avalking dress, having taken 
 off habit and hat on the instant. Did he but hint at an altera- 
 tion in house, garden, her dress, her Avords ; even though he 
 might be hardly conscious that he had said it, yet it Avas 
 done. 
 
 But what matteired all this to him ; Avhat mattered it, that he
 
 130 MARGARET 
 
 had secured the prize he took at auy price, if, after all, he did 
 not gain her love? The old sin was rishig fast in his heart, but 
 in a new form. The loug-t-oncealed, though still flourishing, 
 plant of discontent and euvy, that he had so nourished and 
 fostered from his youth, and which had apparently died when 
 all food was taken froux it, Avas beginning to sprout again, lie 
 envied Bear the fond words bestowed on him ; he hated to see 
 Lotty going about with Margaret's arm around her. He wanted 
 no one to have part or parcel, or aught to do with his property. 
 She might not love him (he had braved the cliauces of marrying 
 her without), but she was his — his property, goods, chattels. 
 If she would not love him, she should not love anything else. 
 But he meant to make her love him. He was but waiting an 
 opi)ortunity to begin his operations. 
 
 Pliilip Leigh resembled his cousin in the disregard, not to say 
 indifference, he paid to religious duties. This is often the case 
 ■with men whose vigorous intellect and quick taleuts smother the 
 less striking (piulities of plain sense and calm judgment. What- 
 ever his inquiring mind had led him to study and examine on 
 this vital subject had hitherto rathi-r tended to confirm his scep- 
 ticism. A little more (nought but the pitying love of some 
 ministering angel, sent by an all-merciful God, kept one little 
 spot, half awe, half fear, in his heart), and Philip Leigh Avould 
 have been an infidel. He very seldom went to church ; once or 
 twice he had tried to prevent Lotty going there. But she, so 
 quick to hear his least wish, so observant of all his hints, took 
 no heed on tiiis subject. So he thought he woidd express him- 
 self more strongly. 
 
 " Lotty, I want you to stay at home to-day to read to me," 
 said he. 
 
 " I am going to church, Philip." 
 
 " But do you not hear me say I wish you to stay at home? " 
 
 " Then you must wish still, Philip, for that is all you can have 
 now. When I return I sliall be rtiady to do wliat yow i-equirc." 
 
 " Come, Lotty, don't be childish. 1 am not in ihc habit of 
 asking, to be refused." 
 
 " Do you never go to church, Philip? " 
 
 " Very seldom, little one. 1 do not see what men, in the full 
 possession of their wits and faculties, want to gain by going 
 there." 
 
 '' They sliould go to thank God for that gift of their wits and 
 faculties." 
 
 " Pooh, Lotty ! 1 was born with mine."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 131 
 
 *' You believe in no God, then, Philip ? " 
 
 " I am afraid I am a sad, irreligious dog, sweet Lotty," said 
 he, half smiling to think he had gained his end. 
 
 She looked at him with a strange expression of pity in her 
 face. 
 
 " I go then," she said, " to pray for you," and left him ; 
 taking the path to church. 
 
 He was too much surprised, not to say ashamed, to stop her ; 
 but he determined to be revenged. When she returned, she 
 found him in the same place she had parted from him. In her 
 usual gay and innocent manner she came up to him as if nothing 
 had occurred, showing him Bear all wound round with a wreath 
 of wild briony ; slie gave Philip some violets, and then said, 
 " Now where is the book ? " 
 
 For -a moment there were in Philip's mind better thoughts, 
 and a conviction that if he wished to gain the love of this little 
 precious heart, it must be by actions and thoughts as pure and 
 bright as her OAvn truthful eyes. But no, Philip's heart was not 
 capable of good and noble thoughts — he must be revenged ; and 
 if she would not love, she .?hould fear him. So he said, " No, 
 I thank you. I wish for no forced duties." 
 
 " Very well," she said, without appearing to see his taunt. 
 " Then, Bear, come with me to get some more violets." 
 
 Philip grew pale with anger, and he said, in a loud voice, 
 " Stay where you are." 
 
 She took off her bonnet and shawl, and without looking at 
 Philip, sat down with a book. 
 
 " Do you not see that you have annoyed me ? " said he at last. 
 
 " Yes, I see it." 
 
 " Then why do you not ask my forgiveness?" 
 
 " I request your forgiveness." 
 
 Philip bit his lips with anger, but knew not what to say. , 
 
 " Ah ! Philip," said Lotty, at last, in a cordial, happy manner, 
 " we are like two babies ; Ave shall never earn the flitch of bacon 
 Margaret has promised us." Then assuming a more serious 
 look, with a quiet, dignified manner, she continued, " I have 
 much for which to thank God ; much for which I have to pray. 
 Sickness or death shall alone prevent my going to church. Let 
 us have no further dispute on such a subject." She put her hand 
 into his, almost the first unsolicited mark of familiarity she had 
 ever bestowed on him. 
 
 INIadly as he loved her, irresistible as seemed the inclination to 
 clasp her in his arms, and utter the burning cry of his heart,
 
 132 MARGARET 
 
 " Lore me, Lotty, 0, love me ! " he was foiled, and could not for- 
 give her. He said coldly, '• Your first duty is to your luisband." 
 
 She turned away ; he could aee a little shadow of disdaiu iu her 
 eyes, but she did not answer. 
 
 No more was said that evening ; but as she was preparing to 
 go to Court Leigl) in the morning, he said, " You are always 
 at Court Leigh I cannot you stay at home one day? " 
 
 " We are both engaged there, Philip, to meet my old school- 
 fellows, Carrv and Florv." 
 
 " I do not choose to go." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 Lotty took off her bonnet, wrote a note, and rang the bell. 
 
 " Let me see that note," said he. He read it ; and his heart 
 smote him as he read the simple excuse to Margaret, which con- 
 tained no implication of himself, and was written in her lively, 
 happy spirit, rendering it all most natural their not going. 
 
 " You mav sav we will come to-morrow." 
 
 " Thank you, Philip." 
 
 If Philip thought he had punished her, he could not be certain 
 of it ; as Lotty Avas her usual happy self all day. 
 
 He was not sorry that Margaret came, in spite of the excuse, 
 and carried them both off by force to dinner. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Caroline and Florence appeared before their school-fellows, 
 as they did to them, in very diHerent circumstances to those in 
 which they parted. 
 
 Marjjaret and Caroline were mothers ; INIillicent lookinj; for- 
 ward to such an event. Florence and Lotty, brides. 
 
 Caroline's husljand was a good-tempered, fox-hunting, rather 
 vulgar 'squire, of moderate fortune, Avho loved his pretty wife 
 next to his horses and dogs, and thought her higldy flattered by 
 the compliment. She seemed equally pleased at her position in 
 her lord's all'eclions, for her own were almost wholly absorbed iu 
 a pale, flal>by species of baby, with tottering head, weak neck, 
 and waterv l>lue eyes of large dimensions. 
 
 Wliat lliis baby ate and drank, when it slept and huw it slept, 
 when it Avent out, and where it went, with various other interest-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 133 
 
 ing items, formed the sole food for her thoughts, the sole exercise 
 for her tongue. 
 
 Wheu Lotty brought down, after dinner, Margaret's magnifi- 
 cent boy, his little figure so erect, and his beautiful face so bloom- 
 ing and intelligent ; he formed a sufficient contrast to the little 
 stranger as to call forth an abrupt remark from the young 'squire, 
 rather to the detriment of his own child. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Margaret, quickly, seeing the flush of mortified 
 anger rising on the young mother's cheek, " my boy is almost a 
 year old." 
 
 " And pray. Sir Harold," continued the 'squire, whose name 
 "was Royston, " have you had any peace since his birth? " 
 
 " I don't see the little fellow very often," said Harold, " and I 
 never hear him, so I suppose I must consider myself fortunate ; 
 and that he is a very good child, inheriting all his father's 
 amiability." 
 
 " He is of a more enterprising and active nature than you, 
 Harold," said Lotty ; " for he took incredible pains to scramble 
 up on to a chair a day or two ago." 
 
 " That's just what my baby does," said Mrs. Royston, eagerly ; 
 *' he feels his feet already, little pet ! " 
 
 " I conclude he is feeling something," said the hard-hearted 
 father, " otherwise how can you account for those extraordinary 
 faces?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! Robert," said Mrs. Royston, angrily ; " that's 
 only a way babies have of smiling." 
 
 " It seems to express the reverse, to my thinking," retorted he. 
 
 At that moment, little Harold's wondering and wandering 
 eyes, that had been travelling from face to face, among the new 
 comers, caught a glimpse of his father. A little radiant gleam 
 of smiles shone over his whole face, he stretched out his arms, 
 and quivering in every limb with delighted impatience, he ex- 
 pressed, in baby language, his wish to go to him. 
 
 " Ah ! now, that I call an unmistakable smile," said the per- 
 tinacious 'squire. " I wonder. Carry, if your baby will ever be 
 as nice a one as that ? " 
 
 "I am sure I don't know what you mean, and I don't care 
 either. If my little darling has an unnatural father, it is his 
 mother's duty to make it up to him." And slight symptoms of 
 a disposition to weep afflicted Mrs. Royston. 
 
 "I should think," said Margaret, with a voice like angels' 
 music, " that when your boy is the age of mine, Mr. Royston, 
 you will be quite satisfied with him." 
 12
 
 134 MARGARET 
 
 " He doesn't deserve to have such a child," was muttered by 
 the injured mother. 
 
 " It is a <:Tt'at disadvantairc," continued Marpraret, hoping to 
 drown the hist sentence, " I'or so young a chiUl as yours to be 
 seen by the side of a young John Bull, such as my boy." As 
 he heard his mother's voice, the young John Bull called out Iior 
 name, and with all his child's love beaming in his face, he held 
 out the strawberry his ftither had given him for her acceptance. 
 
 Mrs. Royston retired to the drawing-room with the other 
 ladies, in an aggrieved state ; and Avhile she poured forth into 
 Margaret's ear all she endured Irom Mr. Koyston's unfeeling 
 conduct, mixed up with an account of her baby's extraordinary 
 mental and bodily accomplishments, Florence was favoring Lotty 
 Avith a private view of her trousseau. Her husband Avas a mild 
 sort of fair, soft young man, Avithout any Aery particular ideas 
 upon any subject, Avhich Avas fortunate, as Florence had decision 
 enough for both. He Avas the junior scion, as Avell as junior 
 clerk, of a large banking establishment, so that Avhile Florence 
 spread out her Avedding-A'eil, looking at it Avitli loving and admir- 
 ing eyes, sometimes shaking it up into a fall of lace, then 
 spreading it out, after the most approved milliner fashion, she 
 told Lotty of all their expectations. 
 
 " We are to have £800 a-year noAV, my dear, and little 
 enough too, considering the house Fi'cdcrick Avorks in. Rich ! 
 my dear, rich does not express Avhat tliey arc. Literally, they 
 might eat gold. 1 Avent one day into the Bank Avith Frederick, 
 just for curiosity ; and, my dear, the bank-notes Avould have 
 covered this.flijor, and heaps of gold lying about, just as if 
 nobody cared. But the clei'ks stared so, I could not look much, 
 I Avas so afraid Frederick Avould see them, and be angry. I 
 had on a purple merino, and a white chip bonnet, Avilh jmj pies 
 and corn trimmings — most elegant, I can assure you, my dear 
 Lotty. But, I forget, you never cared much about dress." 
 
 " No, not much," returned Lotty. 
 
 '• Then it is time you should, my dear. Noav you are a 
 married woman, you must study dress to please your husband. 
 A man always likes to hear that his Avife is tlie Iiest dressed 
 AA'oman going, and T shall make a point of indulging Frederick 
 in this Avish. I sliall consider it my duty." 
 
 " I hope he will be duly grateful," said Lotty. 
 
 " 0, yes ; that he Avill, or I'll know the reason Avhy. You 
 see I have only two ' nioiri's ' at jjresont ; mamma Avonld not 
 give me another, but 1 will have a black one, J am determined.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 135 
 
 All married "vvomen wear black. By the by, my dear, what a 
 handsome man your husband is ! Now, I should like to have 
 a dress just the color of liis hair — a rich black. I wonder how 
 he came to fancy a child like you ? " 
 
 " So do I," said Lotty, quietly. 
 
 "• Is he kind to you, my dear? He did not look to me very 
 good-tempered ; he seemed to me as if something had put him 
 out." 
 
 "' Perhaps he was thinking it was a pity he had not seen you 
 before he married me." 
 
 "■ All, ha ! very likely ; but you were always a good little 
 soul, Lotty ; and Frederick says, never, not even at the Opera, 
 with all that sea of lovely faces round him (that's his own ex- 
 pression, mind, and very pretty too), did he see one to compare 
 to mine." 
 
 " You are very much improved, Flory, since you left school." 
 
 " Ah, my dear ! I must allow dress makes a vast difference : 
 one can dress so sweetly now, there are such loves of things ; 
 look, now, at this head-dress — By the by, did you notice Carry's 
 to-day, at dinner — put on all on one side ? I dare say she Avas 
 wishing her baby good-by ere she parted from the cherub to 
 come down to dinner, and never looked at herself in the glass. 
 Now, if I had tifty babies, I should think it just as necessary to 
 pay every attention to my personal appearance as if I had 
 none." 
 
 " Rather more so, I imagine," said Lotty. 
 
 " Exactly ; now you are reasonable, Lotty ; but as for Carry, 
 she is baby-mad. And did you ever see such a dowdy as she 
 has become? Two or three more children, and I don't know 
 Avhat she will look like. But that's the worst of you little 
 people," continued Flory, looking with satisfaction from her OAvn 
 tall, rather angular form, to Lotty's petite one. 
 
 " It's very shocking, certainly," said Lotty. 
 
 " But my dear, you have not half admired this white muslin, 
 with the gold corn. And now, you see, having shown you all 
 my things, it is but fair that I should see your trousseau." 
 
 " I did not have one," said Lotty. 
 
 " Not a trousseau ! " 
 
 " No," said Lotty, composedly. 
 
 " Good heavens, child ! Tlieu how were you married ? " 
 
 " Under very painful circumstances, Flory ; so we will say no 
 more about it." 
 
 " Yes ; I know my dear that you had to be married in a
 
 136 MARGARET 
 
 hurry, and by your father's bed-side. I remember hearing how 
 your uncles, and brothers, and Mr. Leiujh, were rushing every- 
 ■\vhere to get the special license ; and 1 was thinking myself I 
 should like to be married that Avay too. But, of course, married 
 by special license, I concluded you Avould have diamonds, or 
 pearls at least, and Mechlin lace, and all the thiugs proper." 
 
 " No," said Lotty. The remem])rance of the scene sent a rush 
 of mournful regrets to her heart ; but she knew her present 
 auditor was wholly incapable of understanding that deep well 
 of never-dying sorrow — so she continued, in her usual uncon- 
 cerned voice, " I Avas married in my old brown merino frock, 
 that you have often seen at school." 
 
 " My heavens ! and married by special license ! " exclaimed 
 Flory. " Poor soul ! But surely you had a trousseau provided 
 for you afterwards ? " 
 
 " Yes ; of black, Avith crape and broad hems." 
 
 "Dear me, hoAv shocking? Are you superstitious, my dear? 
 
 — for if it Avas me, I should not know a moment's happiness; 
 I should feel perfectly certain that the match Avould turu out a 
 miserable one." 
 
 " If it does," said Lotty, " I Avill come to you for consola- 
 tion." 
 
 " Do, my dear, you shall have my best efforts ; and, in the 
 mean time, take this advice : don't pin your happiness on any 
 man. I told Frederick from the Acry first I Avas no Aveak iuol, 
 ready to give in on any occasion ; but I had likings and dislik- 
 ings, Avhims and Aveaknesses, and, like all other mortals, I Avas 
 entitled to my share of indulgences. Noav, look at Margaret ; 
 I believe she quite fears .Sir Harold, and she has next to no 
 poAver over him. By the by, hoAV fat and bloated he has groAvu 
 
 — and such an elegant young man as he was, Avith such a fine 
 dark eye " 
 
 '' I always thought he had tAvo," interrupted Lotty. 
 
 " Of course he has ; you are as matter of fact as ever, you 
 little, odd thing ! Do you remember how nuid Augusta Avas 
 Avlien she discovered that it Avas Margaret he Avanted to marry, 
 not her? Ha, ha! hoAv Ave lauglied, Carry and I, it Avas such 
 good fun her being so disappointed. Tlieu, Avliat do you think? 
 
 — she Avroto and told us she Avas goiug to be married to your 
 husband. By the by, Lotty, she is most bitter against you." 
 
 " She is corning here next Aveek," said Lotty. 
 " I am delighted to hear it. I shall shoAV her all my things : 
 she really has good taste in dress ; and, besides, how she Avill
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 137 
 
 envy me ! It has always seemed strauge to me that she does 
 not marry." 
 
 " She is very handsome," said Lotty. 
 
 " Yes ; and very striking too ; but she is such a shocking 
 flirt — she goes such lengths. Really mamma was about to 
 order me to have nothing further to say to her, she lost her 
 character so completely last summer at Ryde. She is a pretty 
 good age nov.' ; the oldest of us all, save Millicent. She has a 
 shocking temper, and agrees Avith none of her family ; they de- 
 spise her, and she hates them. But I must show you my pink 
 glace, with silver trimmings, and such a spi-ay, mv dear, for the 
 hair." 
 
 But Lotty, declaring that coffee would be announced, departed 
 down stairs, and concluding, from Margaret's look, that she had 
 had a dose of talk similar to her own in interest, called upon her 
 to come and sing. Their sweet voices rose and fell in rich har- 
 mony, beguiling the gentlemen from the dining-room, 
 
 " My dear," whispered Florence to Lotty, '' I mean to devote 
 myself to studying your husband's character for an hour ; I am 
 a great judge of such, things, and rarely mistaken; and being 
 such a little, young, inexperienced thing, I may be able to afford 
 you some good and sensible advice as to his management." 
 
 " I feel very gi-ateful," said Lotty, smiling. 
 
 " Ah ! depend upon it, my dear, I shall be able to do you a 
 great deal of good." 
 
 Florence made only one discovery in the hour that she kindly 
 devoted to the study of Philip's character. He never Avillingiy 
 withdrew his eyes from Lotty's face, and he never lost a single 
 word that fell from her lips ; nevertheless, he did not speak to 
 her, and he was as reasonably entertaining as most men ap- 
 peared to Florence. 
 
 So she forgot her intention to pry into his secret soul, and lost 
 herself in conjectures as to the motives of the ward and watch 
 he seemed to hold over his wife. 
 
 Philip appeared quite satisfied, whether she conversed or re- 
 mained silent, 50 she had ample time to settle all the pros and 
 cons to her mind. 
 
 " He is jealous, of course he is, and i-easonable enough too, 
 considering he has married such a child. I shall give'her a 
 hint ; those sorts of dark, sanguine-looking men are always 
 jealous, and liave furious tempers when roused. With his brows 
 knit, and his eyes flashing, he looks really now as if he would 
 no more miud committing a murder thau I do eating this bread 
 
 12*
 
 138 MARGARET*- 
 
 and butter. It will be my duty to warn the child. Heavens ! 
 she speaks to Frederick, and the man glares at him. Jupiter 
 Amnion ! Avhat a comiteuance. I must go and release Freder- 
 ick from his awful, and to him unknown situation." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 " I DO not like those people now at the Court," said Philip to 
 Lotty, on the morrow after this party. 
 
 '' That is very likely, Philip," said Lotty, as she sat busily 
 tying his fishing-flies. 
 
 " One is a vain, selfish, opinionated femalcr tied to as weak a 
 fool as 'twas ever my lot to encounter ; and the other ought to be 
 called ' Gamp,' and 1 need say no more. Associating with such 
 creatures woiild make a monkey gape." 
 
 Lotty laughed and said, " Yet each of them rejoice in a few 
 virtues, tliat some of us may Avant. It is rare to find a person 
 wholly devoid of amiable qualities." 
 
 " You are a philosopher, Lotty." 
 
 " I do not think I am so nuich of a philosopher as a person 
 who can easily accommodate herself to the company she is in. 
 My two school-fellows rather amuse me, they have turned out so 
 exactly what I expected they would." 
 
 "As you arc such a judge of character, let me hear your 
 opinion of mine." 
 
 " It is not a favorable one, Philip." 
 
 "As how?" said I'hilip, his br(,»ws knitting. 
 
 "Because you would nuirry me, without caring for my affection." 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty, that is false ! You know 'twas my ardent, in- 
 fatuated love for you, that made me secure you at any price." 
 
 " You loved yourself, Pliilip, because, if you liad loved me, vou 
 Avould not have taken advantage of my dying fallier's wishes 
 (which you saw, were commands to me) to make me marry you, 
 witiidut having that love for you which I ought to have fill." 
 
 " You speak strangely. Lotty, to one wlio is yoiu* husband." 
 
 " I do it advisedly, I'hilip, because it is my firm purpose to 
 fulfil my father's wishes, to love you if I can ; and I think you 
 must know my charnctcr sunicicnlly well, bv ibis time, to 
 be aware that, with or without, I shall perform my duty as your
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 139 
 
 wife. "Will you trust and believe in me, that all this I mean to 
 do?" 
 
 " I cannot, at present, see the di'ift of what you mean, Lotty ; 
 you are my wife — as such I command your love and obedience." 
 
 " My obedience you have, Philip ; my love has to be gained. 
 Remember it was your own doing, marrying me without." 
 
 "Am I so very disagreeable, personally and mentally," said 
 Philip, hotly, " that I am to sue to a child like you, for what no 
 woman ever denied me before, did I take the trouble to demand 
 it?" 
 
 " My love is worth the trouble of gaining it," said Lotty, 
 looking up with an expression in her face, so lovely and yet so 
 exalted, that Philip felt he could have knelt at her feet, and sued 
 as the humblest slave for one Avord of love. As it was, he said, 
 with faltering voice, " Love me, Lotty, for there is nothing on 
 earth that I covet so much." 
 
 "I wish to do so, Philip, but you will not permit me. Can 
 you not be generous, and allow something for the peculiar cir- 
 cumstances under which I Avas made to marry you, being 
 myself of a nature neither pliable nor yielding ? Can you not act 
 a noble part of forbearance and patience, and Avin my love 
 through gratitude for such conduct ? " 
 
 " I have been doing so, child." 
 
 " Yes, and I Avas becoming contented and happy." 
 
 " In AAdiat way have I changed, then?" 
 
 "You have Avithin your heart, Philip, some ill weed, that 
 chokes every fine and noble feeling. Why need you seek 
 revenge for Avhat you knoAv I regret as much as yourself? By 
 resenting the Avant of my love, can you make it spring ? Trust 
 me, be frank and generous Avith me. I knoAv not my OAvn heart, 
 if it remains insensible to high and noble actions, but it closes 
 Avhen " she paused. 
 
 " What, Lotty ? you can have nothing less bitter to say to me 
 than you have done : then what, I ask ? " 
 
 "You knoAv, Philip, better than I can explain, and it is to 
 Avarn you that I have spoken, as you think, tlaus bitterly." 
 
 "• I have not noAv to learn Iioav to manage a Avoman," said 
 
 Philip, fiercely, " especially " He was about to add, " one 
 
 a child such as you are ; " but a remembrance of her escape from 
 him the day he first told her hoAV he loved her ; a look at her 
 now, with the clear eyes looking into his Avith truth and deter- 
 mination dAvelling there, told him he dealt Avith no child, Avith no 
 ordinary woman.
 
 140 MARGARET 
 
 But his pride of manhood, his lofty sense of his own intellect 
 and powers, his firm persuasion that no woman lived who could 
 brave his will and yet not sutler for it, all, all bore down the love 
 he felt for the first time in his liiu, and il'lt so stronyly, making 
 him think it were better to lose the heaven he panted for in the 
 possession of her love, than gain it by any other means than as 
 he willed it. * 
 
 " Come, child, you have fooled enough," he said, kissing her 
 forehead. " Get on your things, and come Avith me to the 
 brook, and pray let me hear no more nonsense i'rom my little 
 Lotty's lips. Tiie heroics Avould be bad enough to bear in 
 a woman twice your age, much more my child wife." 
 
 Lotty obeyed, and as he watched her playful sports Avith her 
 Bear, Avhile the trout, unheeded by liim, took the tempting fly, 
 he said to himself, " Little, silly thing ! as if I, a man of the 
 world, with twice lier experience, had to be taught how to woo. 
 She shall love me, that I ha\'e sworn to myself. As she says 
 herself, her love is worth some trouble, and having often railed 
 at matrimonial mawkishness, I must not grumble if it does cost 
 me some trouble to break her in. When 1 have conquered her, 
 when I have brought her to my arms with penitence and 
 beseeching love, then, and then only, shall she see tliat the earth 
 contains not a thing I prize so much as her very shadow, wild, 
 wicked, little thing ! No conqueror of worlds ever triumphed as 
 I shall ; no gambler ever played for such a stake." 
 
 "Ah, Philip," said Lotty, " that must be a fine fellow ; you 
 i have had him on the last ten minutes." 
 
 ' In some confusion Philip drew in a little trout, about the 
 \length of his finger, wliose agonized attempts to escape from the 
 fatal hook had been quite unheeded until that moment. 
 
 Luckily Lotty Avas sumn^.oned to the house by visitors. 
 
 It was Florence and her husband. 
 
 " Well ! my dear, Frederick and I have come over to see 
 your abode, and upon my Avord 'lis vastly pretty, quite a l)ijou 
 of a place. Tliis clematis puts me in mind of those beaut itul 
 jvvrcaths that Forster and Duncan sent us ior tlie ball, after ]Mar- 
 'garet's marriage. They are as pretty as if artificial, are tiiey 
 not, Fred? AVcll, my dear, and Avliere ismylitrd? tlic servant 
 said fisliing, so I suppose Ave sliall not be favored Avilh a view of 
 his liighness." 
 
 " I canuot say, indeed," said Lotty ; " but if you Avish par- 
 ticularly to see him, Ave Avill Avalk down to the brook." 
 
 " O, no, my dejir, avc don't care, do avc, Frederick? Ave just
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 141 
 
 came over to see you — I am not quite happy about you, 
 my dear, such a child as you are, married to that tall, dark 
 morose man, handsome as he is. Yet, you know, ' handsome 
 is as handsome does,' is it not, Fred? and we both think 
 he is horridly jealous, and of a frightful temper. Don't we, 
 Fred?" 
 
 " That is your opinion," began Mr. Bankes. 
 
 " And yours too," said Florence, decidedly. 
 
 " Why, yes, after what you told me last night, Flo., I am 
 decidedly of your opinion," returned Mr. Bankes. 
 
 " There now, you see, Lotty, so I thought we could not do 
 better than just come over and warn you." 
 
 " Thank you," said Lotty. 
 
 " You may well say that, my dear, for it is not every one 
 whom I care to trouble my head about. Never was any one less 
 given to meddle or make ; but, in your case, I should be neglect- 
 ing a positive duty, if I did not tell you my suspicions, and give 
 you some advice. So noAV, Frederick, you stay here — Lotty has 
 got something to show me up stairs ; and when we have finished 
 our confab, let us find you here." 
 
 " But the dog? " said Fred, looking dismally at Bear. 
 
 " O ! do not fear him," said Lotty ; " see ! I will make him 
 like you." And touching Mr. Bankes on the shoulder, she con- 
 tinued, " Look, Bear ! friend, Lotty's friend ; take care of 
 him." 
 
 " My heavens ! don't," exclaimed Florence ; '• if your hus- 
 band caught you doing that to Frederick, he'd cut him up into 
 mince-meat." 
 
 " O ! don't, Mrs. Leigh," said the alarmed Mr. Bankes, with- 
 drawing from Lotty's touch. 
 
 Lotty laughed, saying, " I am afraid the mischief is past 
 mending ; however, I will be chopped up for you." 
 
 A shadow withdi*ew from the window, unobserved by all but 
 herself. 
 
 " Well ! my dear, as I was saying this morning to Margaret," 
 said Flory, on their way up stairs, " it is quite a delight to me 
 to see you all once more. But how subdued she is ! and before 
 I'd run after a husband as she does after Sir Harold, I'd be 
 corked up in a bottle. He does not seem to me to be able to do 
 a thing without her. Margaret here, Margaret there, Margaret 
 everywhere. A boots at a hotel is better off." 
 
 " Margaret likes it ; besides, Sir Harold is at present under- 
 going a great deal of trouble and annoyance about his estates,
 
 142 MARGARET 
 
 and Margaret is glad to assist him, as he is not accustomed 
 to it." 
 
 " Accustomed to it ! no, I should think not. My heavens ! 
 what a l•o^v he made at breakfast this morning, about some 
 unluckv fellow called Price. I must say jMargaret calmed him 
 down, and got it all satisfactorily settled. But to lead such a 
 life ; why, she can have no peace to herself, no time to read a 
 nice gossipy novel, or try on a new dress, or have her hair done 
 up in twenty difierout styles, to see which is most becoming. 
 Ah ! my dear, delighted as I was to sec them, they are a very 
 unhappy couple ; and though I make a point of never meddling 
 or mukiuir, I shall be only doing my duty to warn Margaret." 
 
 "Of what, Flo.?" said Lotty. 
 
 "' AVhy I, — that is, — I shall tell her what I think." 
 
 " Perhaps she knows it ali'cady." 
 
 " But, my dear, bystanders are bystanders, and they see more 
 than most people. Mai-garet wants a little advice, and I shall 
 make a point of giving her some. Well ! dear, your house is a 
 picture of neatness and comfort, and I hope you will be able 
 always to keep it so. Ah ! here is your old nurse. How do 
 you do, nurse? I think your mistress is lucky to get such a 
 nice husband, and such a pretty house, before she was seven- 
 teen." 
 
 " I should have been glad to sec her still Miss Bcauvilliei-s 
 for a few years yet, Mrs. Bankes," said the nurse ; and laying 
 her hand fondly on the pretty curls, she continued, " I don't 
 like to see happy young girls taking upon themselves cares and 
 troubles that belit older years. But my darling is like no one 
 else — God love her ! " 
 
 " She is as good a little body as ever lived, nurse ; but now I 
 must say good-by, for I have left my dear Frederick, who is 
 all the fondest heai't could wish, gentle, kind, and inexpressibly 
 attentive and artectionate, quite alone in the drawing-room. My 
 dear Lotty, how ill nurse looks ; are you sure the servants are 
 attentive and kind to her? I know what servants are ; brin;r a 
 new one in among them, and they become jealous as tigers, 
 especially if they never had a mistress before. I should not 
 wonder if they hated both you and nurse. And O ! my dear, 
 suppose they siiould poison you — I have heard of such things." 
 
 " So liave I," said Lotty, highly amused at her visitor's ini- 
 pertinonee and credulity. 
 
 "• Then, my dear, take my advice ; make the cook come in 
 and taste every dish belbrc your eyes ere you touch it."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 143 
 
 " That will be rather troublesome : I think I will take my 
 chance." 
 
 " But Avhora have we here, my clear? — a carriage driving to 
 the door. Dear me ! it is only Carry ; such a figure too, and 
 that frightful baby with her. I really do think that child will 
 be an idiot, it's so odd in its ways. So, my dear, I shall go, 
 for really one never can get in a word -when Carry is in 
 company, unless 'tis about teething and croup. Good-by ! it 
 delights me to see you so Avell and happy, with such a chann- 
 ing husband and house ; just what you deserve, you dear, good 
 soul ! " 
 
 It was some minutes before Carry could notice Lotty's wel- 
 come, she was so busy unpacking the baby, and seeing it was 
 not injured by the drive. 
 
 "Now, Jane," to her nurse who accompanied her, "throw 
 this shaAvl round him, little darling ! the room is cold, I think. 
 Do you think Ave did right to take off his pelisse, Jane ? " 
 
 " Well, he might miss it when we came to go again," said 
 Jane. 
 
 " Perhaps he might ! but, Lotty, would you mind shutting 
 the window? I was determined to call upon you, Lotty, and as 
 Margaret offered me the carriage to take baby a drive, I was 
 glad of the opportunity of bringing him here for your old nurse 
 to see ; she must be such a judge of fine babies." 
 
 " I Avill ring for her," said Lotty. 
 
 " Poor little man ! " said the old nurse, Avhen she arrived, and 
 took in her tender arms the little, Aveak, Avabbling thing ; " and 
 Avhat have they Avrapped you up like this for, I Avonder? Why, 
 ma'am, you should have him out on this fine, sunny day, spraAvl- 
 ing on the grass, Avith as little clothes on him as can Avell be." 
 
 " Good heavens ! nurse, AA'hat a barbarous notion. It Avould 
 kill my darling." 
 
 " He'd be a deal stronger and better-looking," said nurse, not 
 perceiving Mrs. Royston's shocked maternal jpanity. " Why, 
 ma'am, look at all my Mr. Beauvilliers, six of them in a roAV, 
 every one about six feet high, and stout in proportion — not a 
 sickly, not a Aveakly one in the lot. They have been every day 
 as wasn't to say Avet, a sprawling on their little backs on tlie 
 grass, from May to September, and nothing on 'em but a bit 
 deqency flannel." 
 
 " But not Miss Lotty ! " 
 
 " Eh ! but I have had Miss Lotty out from six in the moi-n- 
 ing to six at night, her little legs and arms blue with cold, and
 
 144 MARGARET 
 
 yet she'd cry to go in, and slap my face so pretty. O, she was 
 sensible, was she ! I had a miud to think often she was a fairy, 
 she was that clever." 
 
 " But she is very little, nurse." 
 
 " So she be, ay, so she be ; but past all belief, sensible." 
 
 " So is my boy ; you cannot think what faces he makes if he 
 has not sugar in his food. But look at his legs, nurse ; Mr. 
 Eoyston teases me so, and savs he is sure to be bandv-lejrired." 
 
 " He has a great look on't," said nurse, more candidly than 
 politely ; '' but Master Harold's the bonny boy. I never seed 
 such another out of my lot." 
 
 Nurse having now completely finished herself in Mrs. Roys- 
 ton'j; eyes, as a nurse of discernment, was suffered to depart ; 
 and telling Jane to pack up the precious child again, Caroline, 
 while assisting in this interesting business, talked to Lotty. 
 
 " It is a wonder to me how Margaret's boy does thrive ; she 
 has it down at stated times ; but would you believe it, she never 
 tastes its food — (O Jane, take care, he has got that purple 
 ribbon in his mouth) — or sees his clothes aired — (I wonder if 
 there can be anything poisonous in the dye of that ribbon), or 
 comes up to the nursery at unexpected times ; in fact, she never 
 worries herself in the least about him. And he looks just the 
 sort of child to go off in a fit, or have croup. (Now my dar- 
 ling's little beauty hat, with its pretty, titty, little feather.) 
 And he has such plain clothes — brown Holland frocks, act- 
 ually ! and he to be a young bai-onet. (Now, then, Jane, walk 
 him up and down before the window until the carriage comes 
 round, Avhore I can see him.) I could not answer to my con- 
 science, Lotty, being such a mother ; and I am sure I hope to 
 goodness Flo. will never have any. Her mind is wholly taken 
 up with finery and gossiping, and I feel ready to cry at what 
 Ler baby will suffer." 
 
 " It is to be hoped she will not Have one," said Lotty. 
 
 " Here is the carriage. I must not keep it Availing. Good- 
 bv, dear ! delighted to see you so well and happy. Now, 
 darling ! "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Her visitors being gone, and knowing that Philip was not 
 likely to appear again soon, after what he had accidentally heard 
 at the window, Lotty called her Bear, and went to sit under the 
 great chestnut tree. 
 
 " Ah ! Bear, dear Bear ! come with me, and we will have a 
 little flirtation." 
 
 To the innocent and unsuspecting world. Bear usually ap- 
 peared as a dog of such stern gravity and profound wisdom, 
 that many who beheld him were inspired with awe, and almost 
 all with fear. But now, what a change under the influence of 
 those magical words, and the bright smile that accompanied 
 them ! Bear became a great, unwieldy puppy, of most frolic- 
 some mood. One moment he had a huge paw on each of 
 Lotty's shoulders ; then he was away, like the rushing breeze, 
 impelled by the same viewless purpose as it were. Then, like a 
 sinister, villanous dog, he would appear again from behind, and 
 stealing with noiseless footfall, would pounce upon his little mis- 
 tress like an overwhelming avalanche of Bear, sending her roll- 
 ing on the sward. 
 
 " O ! Bear, Bear, how wild you are to-day," said Lotty, quite 
 breathless, at last, in her endeavors to escape his mad gambols. 
 " Come, let us sit quiet now, and talk a Avliile, like discreet 
 people. Well, Bear, would you be Carry? No! you say. 
 Then, would you be Flory? No, again. Then, Bear, would 
 you be Lotty ? Ah ! Bear, think again. Lotty, at this age, 
 with such a long life before her, and no bright, sunshiny hope. 
 I have hope, do you say? I think you are riglit, Bear; and 
 besides, I would not be Carry or Flo. ; I would rather be Lotty. 
 I think as you do. Bear. For Ave have a good purpose in hand, 
 and we have our duty to do also. But it was sad. Bear, ah ! 
 veiy sad, that Lotty could make no impression ! that poor Lotty 
 still is not understood. But if we try to do our duty, if we 
 steadily pursue our way, if Ave hope the best, pray for tlie best 
 — ah I Bear, say Ave do not succeed, still that is better than 
 being Carry or Flo., and life Avill pass quickly, looking for that 
 aim, seeking that purpose. And then, Bear, if Ave succeed, 
 if Ave open the blinded eyes, make the deaf ear to hear, enlarge 
 the heart to understand — ah ! that is angels' work ; but we caD 
 
 13
 
 146 MARGARET 
 
 help, and then, indeed, shall we be rewarded. The uncongenial 
 tie will seem to have been a blessed bond, the long life of dead 
 affections will blossom with roses. But, Bear, I doubt it. Did 
 you say, 'Doubt not, Lotty?' Why, Bear? I tried to-day. 
 My heart was proud and angry, but I did it, because it was my 
 duty. Did you see me, laying my hand on my heart to keep it 
 down ? The All-Merciful helped me ; the All-Powerfnl will 
 assist me. I lold myself in the mantle of Faith and Hope. But 
 I agree, my Bear, I agree ; look not so Avistfully ; there are two 
 people in the world with whom I would not change places." 
 
 "And to whom are you talking, Lotty?" said Philip, as he 
 drew near, imexpectedly. 
 
 " To Bear," she said. " Bear knows all I say ; and he 
 knows as well as I do that wc have been holding a very 
 scandalous conversation, and abusing our neighbors." 
 
 " What do you mean, foolish child ? " said Philip, half 
 amused. 
 
 " Bear said he would not be Carry ; and I said I would not 
 be Flo. ; and we were well content to remain as we are, rather 
 than be either." 
 
 " I quite agi'ee," said Philip. " I did not think you and 
 Bear could muster up so much sense between you. Of all the 
 insufferable females I ever saw — but pray what Avas she saying 
 when I was coming in? I know it was something atrocious, 
 you gave me such a warning look." 
 
 " She said you Avere jealous, and would make mince-meat of 
 her spouse." 
 
 " Jealous of him, indeed ! jealous of that atom of dust — 
 that speck of nonentity I But you had your hand on his arm, 
 Lotty." 
 
 " Yes, to shoAV Bear he Avas a friend." 
 
 " Then, don't do so again ; for, if you prevent Bear from 
 eating him, 1 shall certainly kick him into the next parish." 
 
 " I Avish to go this evening to see Millicent," said Lotty. 
 
 " Wliv on carlli cannot you stay at home?" 
 
 "She" is ill, Philip." 
 
 " I really do not wonder at it ; tliat man, Herbert, having 
 the constitution of a horse, thinks his wife ouglil to have the 
 same. He will kill licr some day, <lragging her about to schools, 
 parish meetings, and sick old women. And then when she is 
 dead, he will, I suppose, canonize her, and think her a saint in 
 heaven ; will thank God for taking her to a better world." 
 
 " 1 think he is blinded ut present by over-zeal ; but 1 trust
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 147 
 
 he will have no such shock to cool his ardor as the loss of his 
 Milly," said Lotty, 
 
 " It would serve him right if he had." 
 
 " But may I go, Philip ? " 
 
 " How long will you be away? " 
 
 " Two hours." 
 
 " If you will promise to be at home by four o'clock you may 
 go. I have a respect for Mrs. Herbert, I must owu ; and really 
 should grieve if we lost her." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " Little Lotty, how pleased I am to see your sweet face," 
 said Milly, when Lotty arrived ; " and Margaret will be here 
 in a few minutes, too, and it will amuse me so much to hear 
 you talk." 
 
 " Is your cough very bad, Milly? " 
 
 " Yes, at night ; and the doctors say I shall not get rid of it 
 until my baby is born. Here is Queen Margaret." 
 
 " Ah ! how nice this is," said Queen Meg. 
 
 " Only you two. Do you know, I do not think I am ill-tem- 
 pered ; but Flo, and Carry are rather too much for me, all alone. 
 I must beg, Lotty, that you and Philip will come and stay with 
 us while they remain." 
 
 " You must write and ask Philip," said Lotty. 
 
 " What a good little wife ! who would have thought, Milly, 
 that our wild, little, saucy Lotty, would have made such a pat- 
 tern wife ! " 
 
 " But she is very learned on the matter ; don't you remember 
 the matrimonial harangue she gave us ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and how true her prophecy about Flory and Carry 
 has proved. Well, we shall be all together next week, and may 
 compare notes. Flo.," continued Margaret, " is very ill-natured 
 about Augusta, and says very unkind things of her." 
 
 " I do not like Augusta," said Lotty ; " she is mischievous, 
 and I am sorry she is coming." 
 
 " She can do no harm to us, at all events, Lotty," said Mar- 
 garet, in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, I think, if she wished it, she would make Gerald elope 
 with her."
 
 148 MARGARET 
 
 They both laughed at this speech, ami apkcd Lotty if she was 
 jealous, whicli made her pout, in school-girl fashion. 
 
 Gerald at this moment came in, and, addressing IMargaret, 
 said, "■ I Avish, I.aily Leigh, you Avould use your iutlueuce with 
 Sir Harold not to employ the Joneses. Both father and sou 
 are notorious drtinkards and Sabbath-breakers." 
 
 " Ah, Gerald ! it rejoices me so much to see Harold employ- 
 ing any one, as well as working himself, that I could not, would 
 not, say aught that might lead to another change." 
 
 " But think of the sin, think of the responsibility you draw 
 upon yourself^ in giving such men encouragement ; wliy, you 
 are answerable before God lor giving them the means of com- 
 mitting such sins." 
 
 '' By and by, Gerald, wlien Harold is more settled in his 
 plans, then we may try ; but not now, I entreat you." 
 
 "• Pardon me ; you are not justified in so doing. Are these 
 men to go on "Spinning — to be encouraged therein, because you 
 have not suHicicnt moral rectitude in you to urge Sir Harold to 
 do what he ought ? " 
 
 " In other words," said Lotty, "you think Margaret ought to 
 let her husband take his chance of sinking into the idle, listless 
 man he was, rather than that the Joneses should make beasts 
 of themselves ? " 
 
 " Exactly, Mrs. Leigh." 
 
 *' I will not do it," said Margaret. 
 
 " Then 1 must," said Gerald ; " it ought to be done, and it 
 must." 
 
 " 1 thought," said Lotty, " that a minister of the Gospel left 
 the stern principles of duty and f)bedience to be cnlbrccd by other 
 professions than his own. AVhile following the footsteps of his 
 Blessed Master, he persuades men to enter tlic True Fold, with 
 gentle words, holy pity, and calm forbearance." 
 
 " But this duty is so clear, so simple," said Gerald ; " am I 
 to pander to the weakness of a sensible man, such as I know Sir 
 Harold to be, when he likes " 
 
 " Yes," interrui)tL'(l Lolly, "• if by this means you save him." 
 
 " Mrs. Leigh ! 1 am shocked : pardon me, but your doctrine 
 is paiiifiil ! SiifT'cr inc. some day, to talk this matter over with 
 you. At prcsiiit, ^lilly, I must go to tiie school. Are you suf- 
 ficiently well to accompany me? " 
 
 " No, that she is not," said IVIai-garet. 
 
 " But remember how inconvenient it is," said Gerald. 
 
 " I know it is, love," said Milly ; "but I am indeed quite 
 unfit for the exertion."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 149 
 
 " So, good-by, Gerald," said Lotty, '' and as you go to the 
 school, here is something for you to meditate about. I don't 
 think high-church clergymen, as they are called, ought to marry, 
 they make such very uncomfortable husbands. They look vipon 
 their wives as machines to administer to their bodily comforts, 
 and as slaves to carry out their ultra views. They have no con- 
 sideration for either their personal or mental objections to such 
 things. The duty of making them happy, of being courteous, 
 kind, and forbearing, seems forgotten. They are on such a high 
 pinnacle of excellence, they cannot stoop to the minor virtues." 
 
 " You are severe, Mrs. Leigh ; uncharitable," said Gerald, 
 with mournful fervor. 
 
 " I have borrowed the words, Gerald, but I would have you 
 weigh them. Did you not promise and vow to cherish Milli- 
 cent, in sickness and health, until death parted you? Death 
 speaks in that cough." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Gerald, springing to Millicent's si^e. 
 
 " It is but too true, love, that I am far from well," said Milli- 
 cent, gently to him ; " but my death shall never rest at your 
 door, Gerald. I am no weak wife, not to say what I think ; 
 neither are you so severe to your Milly, that I should fear to 
 appeal to you. I overtaxed my strength in the winter, dearest, 
 and suffer for it now ; but leave me at present, and you shall 
 hear the doctor's opinion, and all I have to say, this evening." 
 
 He was reluctant to leave her, but she was getting flushed 
 and nervous, and he listened to Margaret's advice to let her rest 
 now. 
 
 But he begged Lotty to follow him into another room. Tak- 
 ing both her hands in his, with eyes full of anguish, he looked 
 into hers. " Is her life in danger? " 
 
 " I believe not, Gerald." 
 
 " How lon<? has she been thus ailino-? " 
 
 " I noticed how thin and pale she had become when I came 
 to Hidi Lei^h." 
 
 " And I never saw it, never heeded it. Ah, Lotty, if I am 
 to lose her — so long waited for — only just won, what good 
 will my life be to me ? " 
 
 " Pray to God, Gerald, and put faith in your prayers." 
 
 "Faith! Lotty?" 
 
 " Yes, faith ; you weary yourself to death — you work night 
 and day — you take no meal in peace — you give yourself no 
 relaxation — you create a vexed spirit within you. And what 
 do you gain by all this ? Nothing. Pray to God, and suffer 
 
 13*
 
 150 MARGARET 
 
 him to answer your prayers, without putting yourself in the 
 place of God. AVhy beseech him to grant you a favor, and 
 then try to do it yourself? " 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty, your doctrine is not tenable ; but I go to 
 think the matter over." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 It wanted five minutes to four o'clock as Lotty rode up the 
 avenue to High Leigh. Philip was sitting under the veranda. 
 
 " What made you ride across the fields, instead of coming by 
 the road ? " said he, gloomily. 
 
 " I was afi;aid of being late, Philip ; the fields are two miles 
 shorter." 
 
 " So you would rather break your neck than fail in your ap- 
 pointment." 
 
 " It looks like it," said Lotty. 
 
 Was there no sentiment in Pliilip's breast that prompted him 
 to gather the little fair thing to his lieart, and clasping her 
 close, bid her break every promise to him sooner than risk that 
 dearest, most precious life? So lovely as she looked, too, the 
 thick curls in disorder, the excited eyes looking wonderful in 
 size and brilliance, the rich peach-bloom on her cheek, and the 
 red lips parted, as the quick breath came and went, all showing 
 the haste with which she had ridden to fulfil her promise. 
 
 No, there Avas but one feeling besides the uncontrollable ad- 
 miration with which he gazed upon her ; and that was a mean, 
 unworthy thought, a fruit from the upas-tree, that dwelt within 
 tliat fuio, handsome form. 
 
 lie would have given his right hand that she had been five 
 minutes behind the time rather than before. If she would but 
 do one thing Avith which he could find fault ; if but for one fleet- 
 ing moment he had it in his power to upbraid ; if lie could see 
 those fearless eyes droop but an instant before his ; he woidd 
 rejoice, as men do, when the life-wish of their heart is gratified. 
 
 "Margaret is dose biliiiid me," said Lotty; "that is, she is 
 coming by the road, and will be here in five minutes." 
 
 " I thought you were so fijiid of Margaret that you spent 
 every moment of your time in her company ; why, then, did you 
 not accompany her ? "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 151 
 
 " I should have been late, and that, Bear, is a thing you and 
 I do not like to be when we have made a promise, is it not, old 
 fellow?" And Lotty departed to put herself in walking trim, 
 Margaret arriving before she returned. 
 
 There was something in Margaret that made it almost impos- 
 sible for any one to refuse, did she make a request. This might 
 arise, in the first place, from the fact, that she seldom had a 
 favor to ask which was not to be more gratifying to the con- 
 ferrer than to herself. 
 
 In the second place, there was such a low, sweet tone in her 
 voice, that no one could answer until the soft sound ceased. 
 Thus Margaret could plead all her arguments ere she was inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 Thirdly, the simple earnestness of her manner made all her 
 requests seem to be such, that it became not Aveak, mortal man 
 to resist an angel's pleading. And then her beauty — the Leighs 
 ever paid a sort of devotion to beauty ; so that all these things 
 combined, when Lotty joined them, she found Margaret had 
 a ked, Philip had consented, and they were to spend a week at 
 Court Leigh. 
 
 " Horrid bore ! " said Philip, as he returned from handing 
 Mai-garet into her carriage. " Do you hear me? " he continued ; 
 " this is a horrid bore ! " 
 
 " Going to Court Leigh, Philip?" answered Lotty. 
 
 " Yes," said Philip, " to be tormented by the silliest lot ot 
 people I ever met." 
 
 " I suppose we need not go, unless you like it," said Lotty. 
 
 Philip was silent ; he had made the remark in order to extort 
 from Lotty whether Margaret and herself had not made the plan 
 first, and also if Lotty was anxious to go. He could find out 
 neither the one nor the other, so he was forced to speak out. 
 
 " Pray did you and Lady Leigh arrange this invitation be- 
 fore you consulted me ? " 
 
 " Margaret told me she meant to ask us. I told her to write 
 to you, and Millicent said she had better ask viva voce." 
 
 " I knew it was a concerted scheme. I felt sure I was to be 
 dragged into an unexpected consent. I shall not go ! " 
 
 " Very well," said Lotty. 
 
 " Of covu-se, you wish to go ? " said Philip. 
 
 " I am afraid Bear and I are not so amiable. We would 
 rather visit Margaret alone, would we not, Bear, after that sad, 
 naughty conversation we had ? " 
 
 " I suppose we must go," said PhUip, " as I promised."
 
 152 MARGARET 
 
 " Just as you please, Philip." 
 
 He looked at her, putting his fishing-rod together with her 
 little white fingers. He knew she spoke the truth, but nothing 
 prompted him to say, " I am sorry, Lotty, that I fancied other- 
 wise." 
 
 Gerald allowed no private thoughts to interfere with his duties 
 at the school. As soon as that was over, with strong, vigorous 
 strides he took his Avay, five miles off, to Dr. IMurray. The 
 good doctor, knowing the character of his visitor, made no 
 secret of his fears regarding Mrs. Herbert's health. 
 
 " I should," said he, " be very uneasy, indeed, but for her 
 present condition. Her child born, I then shall be able to judge 
 how much her constitution is allected, and how much may be 
 imputed to this cause." 
 
 " And in case of the former. Dr. Murray?" asked Gerald. 
 
 " Why, then, Mrs. Herbert must go, for a year or two, to a 
 warmer climate." 
 
 " To save her life?" murmured Gerald, hoarsely. 
 
 " Nothing else can save it, my dear sir," answered the kind 
 doctor ; " she seems to me to have been born with a good con- 
 stitution, but to have been badly nursed, or neglected." 
 
 "That is true," said Gerald, calling to remembrance the early 
 hardships of MilHccnt's childhood. 
 
 " You may rely upon one thing, Mr. Herbert ; deeply as I 
 know you will feel anything I may have to say, yoxi shall have 
 the truth as nakedly placed before you as my science or skill 
 shows it to me." 
 
 " Thanks ! thanks ! " was all that Gerald could mutter ; and 
 he strode away over the hills, to wrestle with the sorrow that 
 seemed bending like a dark cloud over his head. 
 
 To save her life, he must leave his charge, his duties, his 
 people. He needed a clearer head than was his at present to 
 solve the question as to which he ought to do. Love and 
 nature plcadt'd loudly, duty and conscience seemed sternly 
 to rebuke them. As he turned his face homewards, beset 
 with such feelings of irresolution as had never before assailed 
 tliat firm, upriglit mind, he met Harold, returning on horse- 
 back from a tour of ins])ection. (Jerald knew that the day 
 was oppressively hot, which might, in some degree, account for 
 the vexation and weariness ajipareiit on Harold's countenance. 
 
 A warning voice seemed to tell him, " I'ass on, and say 
 nothing." Hut would that be acting the part of a conscientious, 
 just, and righteous pastor of his people?
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 153 
 
 " My dear Sir Harold," said lie, laying his hand upon the 
 horse's rein, " suffer me to say a few words to you." 
 
 An expression passed over Harold's face, which told, as words 
 tell, that it wanted but this drop of vexation to brim the already 
 full cup. 
 
 " I am in a hurry," he said, with all the Leigh sulkiness 
 grafted on the Leigh obstinacy. 
 
 " I will detain you but a moment," said Gerald, his late feel- 
 ings lending unusual softness to his manner ; " will you oblige 
 me by not employing the Joneses ? " 
 
 " They are the best workmen on the estate ! " exclaimed 
 Harold. 
 
 " But the Avorst men, Sir Harold ; their characters are too 
 notorious to be unknown to you ; and the Browns, who have 
 had very little work from Mr. Price, are the reverse — church- 
 going, religious, quiet, sober people ; they are at present almost 
 starving for want of employment." 
 
 " And pray, Mr. Herbert, are you aware," said Harold, turn- 
 ing pale with anger, " that Price was obliged to discharge your 
 highly-principled Browns, because, occupied, I suppose, with 
 their prayers and Bibles, their work was totally useless ? Every- 
 thing they did had to be done over again." 
 
 " Do not scoff. Sir Harold ; it may be true that the Joneses 
 have the worldly advantage of knowing their trade better, but 
 should that be the plea of a man gifted with every attribute of 
 sense and discernment that the Great Father of us all can be- 
 stow? should that blind him to the one great, fearful fact, that, 
 by employing such men, you give them the means of committing 
 sin? You put into their hands the power of damning their 
 immortal souls forever ; you place others in the dangerous vor- 
 tex of contamination. O, Sir Harold, be warned, be advised ! " 
 
 " I'll warn myself of one thing, I'll be advised of one fact," 
 said Harold, in a lordly, Leigh passion. " You have spoken 
 your last word to me, you prating parson ! . You have looked 
 your last look as a friend ! Not employ any person I choose, 
 ha ! — Take your pick and choice, ha ! — I am likely to do it ! 
 I feel disposed, truly, to lose the best workman I have, because 
 he does not pray in a becoming fashion ! and I am to take any 
 fool that offers, provided he goes to church — ha ! " 
 
 And he galloped away with an oath on his lips, and anger in 
 his heart, while Gerald stopped to pray for him, with nothing 
 but pity in his heart. And yet, Gerald, did you not remember 
 your Master's precepts, who talked with publicans and sinners,
 
 154 MARGARET 
 
 who blessed the peacemakers, who fed the hungry, healed the 
 sick, t'or^ave the wretclied? 
 
 Did he ask out of the iive thousand Avho were fed with the five 
 barley loaves and two fishes, who were holy, who were sinners? 
 
 Did he demand of the leper, the blind, the lame, " Why are 
 ye such sinners ? I heal but the holy and good." 
 
 Did he not forgive the wi'etched as they looked on him, the 
 sinners as they touched the hem of his garment? Gerald, why 
 deem it part of your sacred, holy calling to be judge ? why pass 
 sentence on the sinner, weak, wavering, or wicked, ere death 
 has sealed up his lust hope? Kalhcr help him on his stumbling 
 path, with cheering, persuasive words ; with examples, not com- 
 mands ; with deeds, not judgments ; Avitli hope and energy, not 
 despair and doom. Help the weak sinner on his weary way, 
 raise not up before him the steep mountain of perfection, but let 
 the hill of duty and difficulty slope gently to his sight, until 
 strengthened by exercise, invigorated by hope, he looks behind 
 at Avhat he has surmounted, and gathering joy and assurance 
 from the sight, he views the higher hill and steeper path, that 
 rise, but as brighter goals to win, fairer scenes to view, until at 
 last heaven I'cwards his sight. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 EiTHEU alarmed at the account of Millicent, or wishful to see 
 her before he started on his yacht excursion Avith his half- 
 brothers, Basil arrived about this time, accompanied bv the boys. 
 
 They formed a very fine addition to th(^ party at ('(jurt Leigh, 
 spending most of their time there, to relieve Milly of too much 
 of their comjjany. I>asil was all life and spirits, the boys wild 
 with joy, and so full of Lotty and her dog, that neither she nor 
 Bear had time to pass severer judgments on Flo. and Carry. 
 Harold alone was in a vile humor ; not even Basil coidd smooth 
 him down ; and J'liilip was nearly as bad. 
 
 It liad I'ornu'il no ])art of his phins for the week they were to 
 spend at Court Leigh, that Lotty was to be ha])py. But she 
 was most provokingly so, renewing her ac(|naintance witli the 
 young Erles, and consorting willi Basil, until her husband was 
 driven half mad with jealousy and vexation.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 155 
 
 As for Brian and Hugh Erie, in true boy-fashion, they made 
 no secret of their admiration for Mrs. Leigh. 
 
 " Lucky for you I am only fifteen," said Hugh to Philip, " or 
 I would fight you." 
 
 " No, you should not have her," said Brian ; " I would fight 
 the world for her." 
 
 Most men would have felt rather flattered as well as amused 
 at their boyish enthusiasm ; but the words sunk like poisonous 
 weeds into Philip's jealous heart. 
 
 Augusta surprised everybody by her pale looks and subdued 
 manner ; perhaps some might have noticed the burning blush 
 that rushed over her face as Philip boAved to her with over- 
 strained, and, as it were, mock courtesy, on their first greeting ; 
 but in a day or so she recovered, and was quite herself. 
 
 " Well, my dear," said Flo., " here we are met again once 
 more ; really it is quite delightful, especially as I have been 
 longing to show you my darling Fred ; to my eyes he stands 
 foremost as the flower of the flock." 
 
 " In Avhat way?" said Augusta, coldly. 
 
 " Why, of all the six husbands of us six school-girls — O ! 
 by the by, my dear, I beg pardon — I quite forgot you do not 
 possess one yet. However, never mind, I dare say your turn 
 will come shortly. I know a cousin of Fred's, to whom I dare 
 say I could introduce you ; very, very like him, dear fellow ! 
 only not nearly so handsome, and shorter, with rather red hair, 
 but very amial)le. He would do anything I tell him, he is so 
 sensible ; so we Avill have you two together, and see if we cannot 
 manage it. But, as I was saying, not one of all the husbands 
 equals my dearest Frederick in iny eyes." 
 
 " I should hope not, Flo.," said Lotty. 
 
 " Ah ! there you are, you little sarcastic Bear ; but I know 
 well enough what you mean, poor little dear ! However, we 
 will say nothing ; it is not every one who is so fortunate as 
 I am." 
 
 " Dear little darling ! " interrupted a voice, by her side ; " is 
 it waking, little pet ! and would it stretch its itty pretty arms ? " 
 
 "Bless me, what a fool you make of yourself. Carry !" said 
 Flo., " as if there never had been a baby before ; besides, you 
 really must allow me to give you a little advice. It is very 
 inconvenient, not to say disagreeable, always to have a baby in 
 the drawing-room." 
 
 " You must do without my company, then, if you dislike that 
 of my darling child."
 
 156 MARGARET 
 
 " "We will try and bear the loss, all the more from knowing 
 that you will not miss us." 
 
 " It is ii motlier's duty to attend to her child, precious, help- 
 less thing ! " 
 
 " Then where is the use of your having a nurse, I should like 
 to know? My dear, I never like to interfere in other people's 
 matters, but I think it my duty to tell you, as my oldest school 
 friend, that you and your baby are perfect plagues." 
 
 " Tliank you ! " said Carry, Avith bitter civility ; and, catching 
 up her child's paraphernalia, she also swept herself and it out 
 of the room. 
 
 " There ! I thought I should banish her ; now we will have a 
 little rational conversation. I make a point of always speaking 
 the truth to Carry, and I mean further to tell her that she ought 
 to take a lesson from Margaret. By the by, where is Marga- 
 ret? running after Sir Harold, I'll be bound; now mark ray 
 words, she will sicken him of her company. Though my dearest 
 Frederick says he would never leave my side night or day, I 
 won't permit it ; I say, ' No, Frederick, I know the upshot of it 
 all ; ' and besides, what is more tiresome than having a man 
 dangling after you all day? no time for nice little chats about 
 fashions, dresses, and one's lovers." 
 
 " I suppose you have done with the latter now," said Lotty. 
 
 " Ah : ah ! sly little puss ! " said Flo. ; " but at all events, if 
 1 have done, or ought to have done, Augusta has not ; now, 
 my dear, do tell us, give us a history of all your lovers." 
 
 Flo. had a very uidadylike liabit of winking with one eye ; 
 and, as she made this remark, she winked at Lotty with unmis- 
 takable meaniu'/. She meant to make Aumista rehearse all her 
 fibs about Philip and others, by which she and I>otty would have 
 some fun. 
 
 '■' AnylhiMg tlie matter with your eye?" said Lotty, in answer 
 to the wink, and thinking it quite fair she should also have her 
 amusement. 
 
 " My eye? no, child ; what an innocent you are ! " 
 
 "If she is," said Augusta, loftily, "1 am not; and did I 
 think it needful to punish vulgar impertiucuce, Mrs. liankes 
 ahoidd know my o])inion of her." 
 
 " NVhii'li, luckily, is oi' no consequence to Mrs. Baukes," said 
 that lady, with high gusto at having provoked Augusta. " Non- 
 sense, my dear ! don't get up on your stills ; for though we 
 know little J^otty cut you out, you have had a narrow cscHpe, 
 I um sure wIh-u 1 look at that man, really, my dear Lotty, I 
 quite shudder ! "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 167 
 
 " Why do you look at him then? " said Lotty. 
 
 " AVhat a little imperturbable thing it is," said Flo., looking a 
 little disconcerted. 
 
 " I think," said Augusta, "it is no mark of good breeding, 
 Mrs. Bankes, to speak thus of a man before his wife." 
 
 " But Lotty knows my way, and that I must ever speak as I 
 think. Not but what he is wonderfully handsome, and what 
 you call very distingue-lookmg ; and upon the whole, I don't 
 wonder, Augusta, that you have fretted so about him, for you 
 would have made a very striking couple — he is so dark, and 
 you so fair ; in fact, you would have suited him, in point of 
 appearance and contrast, much better than Lotty." 
 
 " I am sorry I cannot make him over to you now, Augusta," 
 said Lotty ; " I am afraid the laAv would interfere." 
 
 " Spare your pity, child ; no one envies you," replied Augusta, 
 looking at Lotty with anything but loving eyes. 
 
 " No, tliat they don't. Heavens ! how he scowls at those fine 
 boys ! By the by, how handsome Lord Erlscourt is ! now there 
 is a man for you ! except my own Frederick, I never saw one 
 whom I could sooner trust Avith my affections." 
 
 Lotty laughed merrily, partly at the idea of comparing the 
 little, insignificant Bankes with Basil, partly at Flo.'s thinking 
 she had any affections. 
 
 " Why do you laugh, child?" said Flo., who, though perfectly 
 well satisfied with herself in every respect, yet was keenly alive 
 to ridicule. 
 
 " Do you really wish to know?" 
 
 " Yes, of course, I desire it." 
 y " Then, because Basil would make two Mr. Bankes, and your 
 aflfections are always placed on your last new dress." 
 
 " What a little pert thing ! however, my dear, you are so far 
 right, I love a new dress. I think it is my duty, for Frederick's 
 sake, to dress well. So you call him ' Basil ; ' very familiar, 
 upon my word ; and pray what does my Lord say to that ? " 
 
 " He has never said anything as yet." 
 
 " Then take my advice, ray dear, and don't do it again, or 
 we sliall be having mischief. I am a very good judge in such 
 matters ; I shall never forget Frederick and those clerks at his 
 father's bank. Really he looked as if he could eat them all." 
 
 " Rather an indigestible meal," said Lotty. 
 
 " Funny little thing you are, to be sure, Lotty ! I don't so 
 much wonder now that the Grand Turk fancied you instead of 
 Augusta, you are so amusing ; though, certainly, to my taste, 
 14
 
 158 MARGARET 
 
 yon, Angnsta, are far the handsomer, and yon have snch a 
 figiire too ! really yon can carry off any style of dress, and any 
 nnmber of flounces — and do you know, my dear, they are get- 
 ting to nine in nnmber. Unlucky for you, Lotty, as 1 don't see 
 how you could wear more than three." 
 
 " That is why 1 try to exi-^t without any," said Lotty. 
 
 " You certainly du, ami always did, dress in a pecidiar style, 
 that no one else could bear, I fancy ; but it quite becomes you, 
 my dear ; and little and childish as you are, Lotty, you have a 
 pretty face. But I must go and see after Margaret. A tine 
 thing, indeed ! dragging us down all the way from London, and 
 then shutting herself up all day with Sir Harold." 
 
 Flo. seemed to have been as successftd in probing Si^ Harold 
 and Lady Leigh's weak points, as she had been in liuding out 
 Augusta's and Carry's ; for Harold was seen passing the win- 
 dows in a fiery mood, while Margaret joined them with her fair 
 face unusually flushed. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 TLvROi.D had cause to be vexed : his Margaret had not sym- 
 pathizeil with him as he expected on Gerald's account ; besides, 
 he had had a short and concise letter from his bankers : 
 
 " Messrs. Moneypenny's compliments to Sir Harold Leigh, 
 Bai't., and beg to draw his attention to his cash account, &c., 
 &c." 
 
 For a few moments he gazed on the items mentioned in the 
 letter in blank dismay. Tiien the first pang of ruin and ])overty 
 ruslu'd through Harold's heart ; whiU; the large ijuantity ot' re- 
 pairs in hand, which, if pursued, would swell those horrible 
 items into twice the amount, ap{)all<'(l him. 
 
 He rang furiously for Mr. Price, who arrived iu due time. 
 
 " Look there ! " said Sir Harold. 
 
 " I am not surprised," said Price, blandly, and rubbing his 
 hands in a provokiiiirly easy manner. 
 
 " AN'hat lilt! devil do you mean. Price?" 
 
 " Of course. Sir Harold, 1 expected no less. I am only sur- 
 prised it is not more." 
 
 " If you do not wish to drive me mad, speak out, man, and 
 tell lue what is the meaning of that letter."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 159 
 
 " You hav^e overdrawn your accouut, Sir Harold." 
 
 Mr. Price, the account, and the bankers, were all sent, one 
 after another, to a very hot place by Sir Harold ; and finding 
 that his master was in no mood to be trifled with, Mr. Pi'ice at 
 last condescended to speak out. 
 
 " You know, Sir Harold, I warned you not to take so much 
 upon you at once ; I kept advising you to do a little at a time ; 
 but my Lady, you see. Sir Harold, my Lady would go among 
 the people, and she got your ear, Sir Harold, when I was not 
 permitted to speak, old and valued servant as I have been to 
 
 the family " Here Mr. Price made a demonstration of 
 
 emotion. 
 
 " Hang your foolery, man ! come at once to the point, and 
 let me know how I am to get out of this mess." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Price, maliciously (for he was a rogue now, 
 though he might not have been one Avhen he first became agent 
 of the Leigh estates), " perhaps. Sir Harold, you would like to 
 consult with my Lord Ei'lscourt ; his opinion has ever " 
 
 Harold interrvipted him with another violent exclamation, 
 proving to Mr. Price that his shot had told. 
 
 For after all he had boasted, and still was boasting to Basil, 
 how was he to tell him the real state of the case ? — more 
 especially as Basil had told him the same thing as Mr. Price, 
 namely, not to do too much at a time. 
 
 " We may certainly fell a little more timber, and there is the 
 half year's rent coming, in six weeks," continued Price. 
 
 " Three thousand five hundred pounds ! What a drop that is 
 to liquidate such a debt, man, and we to live too ! " said Harold. 
 
 " If you, Sir Harold, could persuade my Lady to reduce the 
 establishment a little." 
 
 Mr. Price hated " my Lady," and he knew Harold could 
 not bear her name mentioned by him ; so he was prepared for 
 another burst of wrath, and then a dismissal to think over the 
 matter. This all took place after breakfast ; and Margaret, 
 knowing the lines of Harold's face as the lover of Nature traces 
 the coming storm, was appalled as she entered his study to ask 
 if he required her for any business. He sullenly folded up the 
 letter ; men do not like women to see that they have been fool- 
 ish or unwise. 
 
 " That idiot Price says we are doing too many repairs, and 
 shall shortly want money." 
 
 " Have you not the fifteen thousand pounds my father left, 
 Harold?"
 
 IGO MARGARET 
 
 '' More than lialf is gone ; a part I spent in tlie first payment 
 for our yacht, Margaret." 
 
 " O, sell it again, dear Harold ! " said Margaret, quickly, 
 
 " Sell the yacht ! give up the thing I have been so lull of all 
 the winter, Margaret ! I little thought you Avould be so unkind, 
 unjust." 
 
 "• Not unjust, Harold ; our people " 
 
 " I hate the people ! Why should I spend my money on a lot 
 of ungrateful rascals? I will leave them all. I will shut up 
 Court Leigh, and we will go to the Mediterranean, Margaret, 
 make a home of the yacht, and living in those lovely, luxurious 
 climes, we shall be free from all trouble and care." 
 
 "But our duty, Harold?" 
 
 Harold sent duly off after Mr. Price, the cash account, and 
 the bankers, luaking Margaret's cheek pale with the first scene 
 of violent temper that he had displayed before her. In the heat 
 of his anger, he accused her of selfishness, cant, hypoci'isy, want 
 of love, coalition with Gerald, and was winding up Avith a 
 strong bias to send her after Duty, when the door opened and 
 the amiable face of Mrs. Bankes made its appearance. 
 
 " Hoity-toity ! here's a scene ! " said she, highly ])leased at 
 having arrived at this crisis ; " who would have thought. Sir 
 Harold, that you shut Margaret up here, merely to favor her 
 with a matrimonial exhibition of passion? I am glad to see 
 Margaret has enough spirit in her to oppose you, as 1 suppose 
 you don't get into rages for nothing. I always thought her such 
 a meek-spirited wife." 
 
 " Whatever you thf)Ught, Mrs. Bankes," said Harold, recover- 
 ing himself on the instant, all his usual high-bred courtesy in 
 his voice and manner, " Lady Leigh has the advantage this time 
 of being in the right, ami I have to apologize to you, my dear 
 wife, for an exhibition of temper, which 1 trust is my lirst and 
 last before you." He kissed her hand as he spoke, and left the 
 room. 
 
 " Upon my word, very pretty ! and so this is the first time he 
 ever got into a rage with you. Well, take care ; tlii^ leap ouco 
 taken, be very careful, and not irritate him again. I am a very 
 good juilge of character, and these Leighs have very odd tempers. 
 J'ut tliem out, my dear, and they are mad, raving. How thank- 
 ful I am my dearest Frederick has such a sweet, ieminine dispo- 
 sition ! Upon my word, I feel for you and Lotty, indeed I do." 
 
 Tills was said at the drawing-room door, so that Lotty heard 
 it, and said, —
 
 AND HER BEIDESMAIDS. 161 
 
 " Why are Margaret and I such objects of pity?" 
 
 "Ah! my dear," said Flo., winking violently at Margaret, 
 " little pitchers have long ears." 
 
 " I consider Mr. Bankes the object of most pity in the 
 world," said Augusta, with emphasis. 
 
 " To be sure, my dear," said the imperturbable Flo., in her 
 most irritating manner ; " I understand, because he is not 
 blessed with your lovely hand. Great pity, indeed, that he 
 should merely choose a sweet, amiable, lively, agreeable wife, 
 instead of such a charmer as you, my dear." 
 
 " So that is your estimate of yourself, is it, Flo. ? " said Lotty, 
 hastily, to prevent an explosion of wrath from the angry Augusta. 
 
 "And a very just one, too. I hold that person to be a fool 
 who has not a tolerable good opinion of himself." 
 
 " Especially when they think of nothing else than themselves, 
 they ought to be perfect in the study," said Augusta. 
 
 " Very true, my dear ; besides, if one has not a good opinion 
 of one's self, who else will, I should like to know ? " 
 
 " ' Who else,' Flo. ? what grammar ! " said Lotty, trying to 
 turn the conversation. 
 
 " Grammar or not, Lotty, it is language pretty well under- 
 stood by those who wovdd rather not understand it. You and I 
 never indulged in any flirtations by which our consciences would 
 be harmed ; we never said we had offers when we had not ; we 
 never told " 
 
 " Florence, we are not at school," interrupted Margaret, her 
 lovely face assuming such a reproving and severe look, that even 
 Florence Avas startled ; " such bickerings were disgraceful then, 
 how much more so now." 
 
 She left the room, and Augusta followed her. 
 
 " Well, to be sure ! my Lady Leigh is taking enough upon her ; 
 she forgets I am a married woman too. I have a good mind to 
 tell Fred, of her conduct : as if I were a school-girl still. 
 I think I will. He will flare up, I know, and tell Sir Harold his 
 mind about his wife." 
 
 " Then they will have a duel, Flo., and Sir Harold will shoot 
 Mr. Bankes," said Lotty. 
 
 Flo. was for a moment abashed, but presently resumed with 
 renewed vigor, — 
 
 " Not at all, my dear ; my dearest Fred, may shoot him, and 
 serve him right, too, thinking of such bloody-minded revenge. 
 And your husband might be his second if he chose, and I'd 
 
 have Lord Erlscourt for Fred.'s " 
 
 14*
 
 1G2 ' MARGARET 
 
 "And Brian and Hugh to hold the pistols, while you and I look 
 on to see fair play." 
 
 " Come, Lofty, I won't have you treat as a jest what is a very 
 gerious matter." 
 
 " O ! I thouglit you were in jest. T never imagined a woman, 
 possessed of a dearest Fred., could coolly sit down and arrange a 
 duel for him, just because Margaret desired to have Augusta's 
 feelings spared." 
 
 " To be sure, my dear, who could, indeed? " said Flo., rapidly 
 turning round under the fear of being laughed at; "•Augusta 
 always makes such mountains out of nothing. No wonder one 
 does not know which is the head and Avliich is the tail of what 
 she is doing. But, poor thing! we ouglit to pity lier — she is 
 quite soured. I am sure, if 1 am thankful for anything, it is that 
 I have a good temper. Nothing puts me out. 1 declare, here is 
 Lady Katherine marching up the avenue, like an old swan, with 
 Miss Leigh two stops behind her. What a regular old nuiid she 
 is ! getting red at the nose, too. Would not it be fun to get hor 
 into a flirtation? Poor old thing ! I dare say she does not know 
 what the word means. I think I will give her a little advice on 
 the matter. I am fond of helping on affairs like that ; and 
 though I never make or meddle, a little word often excites 
 a flame." 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 MAnoAUET knew, in spite of Harold's control over himself, 
 that, as long as the matter renuiiued on his mind, lie would talk 
 of it. She was fully persuaded he would keep his promise, and 
 suffer no harsh words to reach her ear, as if for herself, l)ut that 
 he must disburden his vexation by talking it away : she pre- 
 pared herself; and it needed preparation, for the scenes that she 
 had to go through. To combat the resolution to leave home, 
 people, and (!vorything, tliat he niiglit lead a (juii-t, listless, yet 
 delicious lil'e, in fairer, warmer climes, she knew recpiiri-d every 
 exertion on her part, would call forth every power of love and 
 persuasion. And she was to do this; she who felt that, with 
 Harold, a cottage, a palace, the frozen seas, the torrid zone, were 
 ttlik(; home to her. 
 
 And yet his immortal welfare, his eternal happiness, required
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 163 
 
 him to remember that he lived not for himself alone. He must 
 dwell where God had placed him, to perform his allotted task of 
 life. 
 
 For those she loved, Margaret was unequalled in her devotion 
 and firmness. Again and again Harold argued the point ; again 
 and again Margaret resisted his appeal. It is true, he gave her 
 no harsh words ; it is true, he indulged in no outward passion ; 
 but it burned within all the more freely, that it was smothered 
 outwardly, until one evening Margaret suggested that they should 
 consult Basil. From that moment Harold shut his thoughts up 
 in sullen silence. 
 
 Mrs. Bankes had been favoring him with a few of her ideas 
 upon Lord Erlscom-t's evident pleasure in Lady Leigh's society, 
 which, in comparison to what he felt in hers, certainly could bear 
 no investigation. A few embellished facts of their former friend- 
 ship, a few imaginary notions which she felt it her duty to tell 
 Sir Harold, made him, in his present mood, forget his wife's 
 devoted love, Basil's noble confidence. 
 
 ?tlrs. Bankes had also, with the zeal and energy of character 
 on which she prided herself, made Mr. Royston see that his wife 
 was a greater fool than he had first imajjined her : and beiu<T 
 perfectly satisfied Avith the happy result produced in both these 
 cases, she looked round to see whose condition she could 
 further improve. 
 
 Fortunately for Lotty, she was rather afraid of Philip, and 
 determined, in her own mind, to leave his welfare to the last ; 
 so she took Lotty under her kind protection, associating her with 
 the perpetual stings that she was inflicting on Augusta through- 
 out all her other operations. It became hard to say which 
 Augusta hated most. That she nourished in her heart feelings 
 of bitter hatred and envy towards Lotty, has been seen ; and 
 though her better judgment might have shown her that Lotty 
 had nothing to do with Flo.'s vulgar impertinence, still she 
 hated on. 
 
 Born in a family whose principal characteristics consisted of 
 beauty and badness, and who consequently had neither any love 
 for each other, nor any respectability to keep up, it was but too 
 true that Augusta deserved a great deal of the censure with 
 which Mrs. Bankes overwhelmed her ; bui reproved in this 
 coarse manner, brought to shame by a woman whom she des- 
 pised for her vulgarity, yet feared for her insufferable assurance, 
 every bad passion in Augusta's heart was roused. She had 
 come down with the firm determination to mar Lotty's matrimo-
 
 s 
 
 164 MARGARET 
 
 nial happiness, no matter how she came out of the encounter 
 herself", so that her purpose was fulfilled. IJiit it required very 
 little observation lo see that Philip, morose as he was to her, 
 loved his little child-wife with idolatry; while she, Lotty, the 
 being she Avished to hurt, injure, overwhelm with grief and 
 despair, would probably mourn for him as the pitying angels 
 mourn over sinners, but at the same time would rejoice in any 
 act that restored her once more to her beloved Beauvillians. 
 
 Thus Augusta felt she was powerless ; and her heart grew 
 sick and sad within her, when she compared herself to her five 
 school-fellows. Not that she cared for, or envied, Florence and 
 Caroline ; thank TIraven ! though they were married, she did 
 not envy them. liut, from her childhood, this one idea had 
 been placed prominently before her — she was to marry, and 
 that as early as possible. 
 
 Her father, without having any great liking for doniestic life, 
 had yet been severely tried in his endeavors to do his duty in 
 that line ; for, after some years of most uncomfortable eccen- 
 tricity, his wife had become permanently insane, leaving to his 
 care and management three wild boys and one pretty girl. As 
 she grew up, Augusta discovered that she was only held in 
 esteem by her immediate relatives and guardians, according to 
 her promise of beauty. And slic had nnl tlu' pleasiu'e of think- 
 ing they were proud of and delighted in her appearance, because 
 she was their daughter and sister, but because a female relative 
 was a very tiresome burden, and they wanted to ease their 
 shoulders of the care as soon as possible. 
 
 Thus, without love to soften her, without principles to guide 
 her, no wonder she looked to marriage as the only possible relief 
 U) an unpleasant and somewhat forlorn situation. 
 
 But being deficient in feminine tact, and gentle wiles, she had 
 been too open in her endeavors, too barefaced to escape censure, 
 besides failing in her object. 
 
 Slie would have hated IMargaret, had it been possible, for 
 beguiling Sir Harold, and so exposing her to the taunts aud 
 upbraidings of lier I'ainilv. 
 
 She did li.ite Lotty, because she felt, had she gained Philip 
 Leigh, she would liave loved him, and for his sake have become 
 all that a woman should ])e. 
 
 She felt that she had compromised her character most seri- 
 ously, and, her father being dead, she iiad but her wild and 
 dissipated brothers to fall back upon, whose companionshij) was 
 much eschewed by well-disposed folk. Thus her situation was
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 165 
 
 truly deplorable, and it required no stin,!2js from Mrs. Bankes's 
 flippant tongue to make it worse. Had she but made a con- 
 fidant of Margaret or Millicent, had she crushed her proud and 
 irritated spirit, there might have been some hope. But at pres- 
 ent she was becoming reckless ; and knowing that when she left 
 Court Leigh, she woidd have but a rough and unkind reception 
 from the only home open to her, she was determined in some 
 Avay to set a seal upon her fate. 
 
 Yet how? 
 
 It was useless remaining much longer in Cheshire. Court 
 Leio-h was unlike the Court Leigh of the former visit, A ffloom 
 hung over everything, casting its foreboding shadow on a 
 doomed house. 
 
 Lord Erlscourt was unmarried, it is true, but experience told 
 her " 'twere vain to txy" to attract him. His brothers were sucli 
 complete boys ; and besides, the elegant Miss Clare was not at 
 all to their taste : they were just at the age to despise flounces, 
 feathers, and dress, which Miss Clare delighted in. Yet where 
 to go? Her thoughts rushed for a second towards " dear Fred.'s 
 red-haired cousin," — but no, that was too humiliating ; and the 
 sound of Flo.'s active tongue, making itself heard through the 
 long avenue, above the rustling of the leaves, and the twittering 
 of the birds, gave her such a shock, that to go off to Australia 
 with a gold-digger seemed preferable. She drew near to the 
 speakers to escape her thoughts. 
 
 "My dear Lord Erlscourt," Avas Mrs. Bankes saying, "how 
 you do spoil those boys ! Now take my advice, or you will one 
 day repent it — they will turn upon you." 
 
 Basil was Iving on the grass, his half-brothers hanging about 
 him, and teasing him every minute with questions ; in fact, they 
 wanted to rouse Basil from his book, that he might come Avith 
 them on some favorite excursion. 
 
 Basil looked lovingly at his boys. 
 
 " There is always ill blood between half-brothers," pursued 
 Mrs. Bankes. " I should not be doing my duty if I did not 
 warn you, my Lord. Remember you are not married, and 
 have no heirs. It will be a fine thing for one of them to 
 become Lord Erlscourt." 
 
 " He will make a very fine Lord Erlscourt, madam," said 
 Basil, as he laid his hand on Brian's dark curls. 
 
 "I! Lord Erlscourt?" said Brian; "never, Basil; Avhen 
 you die, I shall die." 
 
 " So shall I," said Hugh ; " Ave could not live Avithout you, 
 brother."
 
 16G MARGARET 
 
 " All ! young gentleman, that's all very fine. Just wait till 
 your brother has a family." 
 
 " He has," said Brian ; " -we all live with him." 
 
 "I mean married, my dear, with children of his oAvn." 
 
 " I am not ' your dear,' ma'am," retorted Brian, angrily ; 
 " and I wish Basil was married, and I wish he had married 
 Mrs. Leigh." 
 
 " And may I ask, young man," said Philip, haughtily, '' why 
 you should have fixed on my wife for such an honor?" 
 
 " Because I love her, and so does Hugh ; and we think, yes, 
 we both think " 
 
 " And Basil thinks," interrupted Lord Krlscourt, " that you 
 are a couple of foolish boys." 
 
 " I insist upon hearing what lie was going to say ! " exclaimed 
 Philij), hotly. 
 
 ''01" said Brian, nothing loth, " we think she is a great 
 deal too good for yon. If we had Mrs. Leigh to live Avith us, 
 she should be treated as a queen, which she deserves." 
 
 Philip stretched out his hand to seize the boy, livid with 
 rage. The active fellows were up and away, with Philip after 
 them ; they enjoying the fun, he in a towering passion. 
 
 '' AVell," said Mrs. Baiikes, making the most of the oppor- 
 tunity of having Lord Erlscourt all to herself, "your l>oys have 
 served him right, great brute ! always snubbing that poor little 
 thing, who runs her legs off to please him." 
 
 '• .Slic does not look unhappy, Mrs. Bankes." 
 
 " No, she dare not, or I am sure he would beat her. Really, 
 it is shocking to think how Margaret and Lotty have thrown 
 themselves away on those mad Leighs ! " 
 
 " Mad : " said Basil. 
 
 " Yes, mad," said Mrs. Bankes ; " cannot you see it in their 
 eyes?" 
 
 "But there is no madness in the family, madam." 
 
 " Why, no, I suppose not," said jNIrs. Bankes, reluctantly ; 
 " but then liow can you account for Sir Harold's jealousy 
 of you ? " 
 
 "Of me, Mrs. Bankes?" 
 
 " Yes, of you ; any mole can see it." 
 
 Mrs. Bankes was rather alarmed at Lord Erlscourt's raising 
 himsell' from the ground at one spring, and preparing tu depart. 
 
 " AVhere are you going?" she said. 
 
 " To Sir Harold " 
 
 " 0, mercy me, don't I You will have a cpiarrel I There
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 167 
 
 will be a duel ! They will trace it to me ! There will be such 
 a scene ! — and Fredei-ick — O, my dear Frederick ! — he will 
 be drawn in. O, for mercy's sake, my Lord ! — for goodness 
 gracious sake, don't ! " 
 
 " Then, madam, will you be kind enough to tell me if you 
 really think what you said, that Sir Harold Leigh is jealous of 
 me. Lord Erlscourt ? " 
 
 " I never heard him say — I don't quite know ; but Frederick 
 and I were saying " 
 
 " Madam, if you cannot say yes or no, I shall depart to seek 
 Sir Harold." 
 
 " O, ' yes,' then I'll say, or ' no,' or whatever you wish," said 
 the alarmed Mrs. Bankes. 
 
 " That will not suit me. You must state on what grounds 
 your information is founded." 
 
 " Well, Frederick and I " 
 
 " Do you mean, madam, that Mr. Bankes and you think so ? " 
 
 " We had just a few suspicions." 
 
 " And have you heard that any other person has ? " 
 
 " No, never ; no, not a word ! It was only Frederick and I 
 talking." 
 
 " Then, madam, allow me to say, that if I hear such a thing 
 again, or a word whispered, or any thing of a similar kind, in 
 this house, said by you or Mr. Bankes, I shall " 
 
 " He'll duck Mr. Bankes in the horsepond," interrupted Brian, 
 who, with Hugh, had returned unperceived from their race with 
 Philip. 
 
 " Yes, and then horsewhip him with his best hunting whip," 
 continued Hugh. 
 
 *•' And if you or he tease Basil any more, we'll shoot him ! " 
 concluded they, in a breatli. 
 
 "Hush, boys!" said Basil; "you must never threaten a 
 lady." 
 
 And with a low bow to the discomfited Mrs. Bankes, he de- 
 parted, bearing both the boys with him. 
 
 " Well ! if I did not give him a fine fright," said Mrs. Bankes 
 to herself, recovering her spirits as soon as they departed out 
 of sight. " Ah ! here is that good little thing, Lotty. Here's 
 my Lord gone off at a tangent, and Mr. Leigh has had to rush 
 after those two rude boys, to give them a good flogging, which I 
 am sure they deserve ; more's the pity they did not get it — 
 and all about you, too." 
 
 " I dare say you had a helping hand in the mischief, Flo."
 
 168 MARGARET 
 
 " Ah ! that is always what you used to say at school, Lotty ; 
 but you never were more mistaken in any one's character in 
 your life. I am just the reverse of that — quiet and peaceable ; 
 I never make nor meddle." 
 
 "■ I will hear the rest of your character when I return," said 
 Lotty ; ''but, at present, tell me whitli way did Pliilip go." 
 
 " .So you would go after him, would you? Take my advice 
 now, and keep out of the way. He was like a demon, my dear ; 
 his leetli set, his eyes on fire, his face like a sheet, always a sign 
 of intense passion. — O! she is gone, and the right way, too. 
 "Well, if she will g^, she will, and must take the consequences. 
 I meant to have shown her quite the contrary direction, if she 
 lu|d persisted in asking me ; but, however, I have done }ny duty, 
 and wlio can do more? She is a very odd little thing, that 
 Lotty. I am not sure that she is all right, there is such a child- 
 isli Avay Avith her. Yet, with those eyes of hers, how she looks 
 one througli, as if she could read everything one was thinking of. 
 However, she is Avelcome to read my thoughts. Thank goodness ! 
 I never say anything that I don't feel, and that is a comfort 
 everybody cannot boast of." 
 
 Tliis wind-up miglit have been meant for Augusta's ear, who 
 came Avalking slowly by. If it was, it fell unlieeded ; she passed 
 tlie amiable ^Irs. Baiikos with tlie air and h)ok of a person Avho 
 did not seem to know there was sucli a being in the world, while 
 the latter joined Carry, and the three continued to walk up and 
 down tlie avenue, Augusta passing but not joining them as they 
 conversed. 
 
 "AVell, Carry, they are queer people here, are they not? all 
 at sixes and sevens." 
 
 "Yes," colli inued Carry: "it is very sad to see them all so 
 occupied Avith their own concerns : they never look at the baby." 
 
 " No, to be sure ; they have eyes for nothing but themselves 
 and their husbands. And such husbands, too, — perfect brutes! 
 lint I always thought Margaret held her head a great deal too 
 high ; and ^lillicent, with all her goodness, has got a uice un- 
 comfortable lot before her. I would not change my dear Fred, 
 for one of them." 
 
 " Nor I my sweet ba1)y." 
 
 " "Well, you might pay Mr. Royston the compliment of think- 
 ing of him. Carry, for he lets you have all your own Avay." 
 
 "Of course, I Avould not chansre him i'm- anv of them; and, 
 as you say, Flo., they seem all a very uuhappy lot, and I sup- 
 pose it's all their oavu doing."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 169 
 
 " Of course," returned Flo. " If they had acted like you and 
 me, Carry, their fates would have been very different ; and that 
 poor little iotty is Avorse than all. I declare, when I look at 
 that dark, morose-looking husband of hers, I fully expect to hear 
 some day that he has cut her throat and shot himself." 
 
 " Philip Leigh will never hurt himself for any woman," said 
 Augusta, haughtily, as she caught the last words, walking by 
 them. 
 
 " I must say, I think he behaved shamefully to you," said 
 Flo. 
 
 " It is out of the power of any man to trouble me," retorted 
 Augusta. 
 
 " And that's the right way to treat them. As I often tell 
 Fred, ' Ah ! you don't know the annoyance, and trouble, and 
 bother you men are. Far better is it for a poor woman just to 
 have no one to care for her but herself.' As Carry and I were 
 just saying, look at those three imhappy creatures, Margaret, 
 Millicent, and Lotty, one worse otF than another. I am sure I 
 am thankful I am what I am." 
 
 " And so am I," said Carry. " I would not bo either of them 
 for the world." 
 
 " I am happy in thinking," returned Augusta, " that I envy 
 no one ; and I can look on you all with great feelings of com- 
 passion, not to say thankfulness, for my OAvn lot." 
 
 " Hoity-toity ! " exclaimed Flo., as soon as Augusta had 
 walked oiF, " I smell sour grapes ; and no wonder, poor soul ! 
 She will come to grief some day, I'll be bound. There's the 
 dressing-bell ; run. Carry, or we shall never be in time, and cer- 
 tainly I do like plenty of time to make myself tidy, just to please 
 Fred. ; and you'll want to kiss your baby." 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 As Lotty passed on her way in search of Philip, she overtook 
 Basil close by a stile. As she lightly sprang over it, he held the 
 hand which he had taken in his to assist her, and staying her 
 onward step, he looked into her face with his loving, brotherly 
 eyes, just as he was wont to do when he lifted up the pretty face 
 to kiss. 
 
 15
 
 170 MARGAROT. 
 
 "Little Lotty, n phaflow in your eyes." 
 
 " But not in yours, Basil ; at what "were you laughing so 
 heartily to yourselt"? " 
 
 " At the uulbrtunate Mrs. Bankes, Lotty ; she is busying her- 
 self so much about all our concerus, that a little more and she 
 Avould make mischief. Thinkiug it was best to alarm her in a 
 style she could understand, 1 was proceeding to give her a quiet, 
 though strong, hint as to the danger of so doing, Avhen the boys 
 interrupted us in a rampant manner, and before I could stop 
 them, threatened the unfortunate Mr. Bankes with a horsepond, 
 a thrashing, and a duel." 
 
 " I should think, poor man ! he will be off to-morrow." 
 
 " Not a bad tiling either, Lotty, though my character will 
 suffer through the boys ; for by the time Mrs. Bankes reaches 
 London, she will have persuaded herself that I liad not only 
 threatened, but actually executed my threats, even though her 
 beloved Frederick is unharmed by her side." 
 
 " She must have annoyed you very much, Basil, before you 
 "would even give her a strong hint, as you call it." 
 
 " She could not annoy me, Lotty ; but she may do infinite 
 mischief to those I love, and therefore I was not so vexed as I 
 might have been at my boys' rudeness ; it may have the effect 
 of stopping her. But, Lotty, why is this shadow in your once 
 clear eyes ? " 
 
 " The shadow will not remain long, I hope, Basil." 
 
 " Why did you marry in such haste, Lotty? " 
 
 *' Anybody will tell vou the reason, if you wish to know, 
 Basil." 
 
 " Did you not see the sin of marrying without love, little 
 one?" 
 
 " I think it was a sin," she said, calmly. 
 
 He looked into her truthful eyes. 
 
 " I forgot I must not longer treat little Lotty as my pet and 
 child ; so you must forgive me if I have said aught you do not 
 like." 
 
 " You would not say to me, Basil, what I should not hear ; 
 go on, if there is anything you wish to know." 
 
 " If you want a brother, nuiy I be the trusted one? not, Lotty, 
 because you have not loving brothers in abundance, but they 
 love you too well, you understand. I sliould be alone, but the 
 Beain illians you must consult en mansr." 
 
 " I shall want no help, thank you, Basil, all the same. I have 
 but to do my duty."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 171 
 
 He lookecl at the childish face, the girl's slight form, and might 
 have wondered ut her answer ; but as he met the steadfast gaze 
 of her eyes, and noted the decision and fortitude that played 
 round her mouth, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it 
 with reverence. 
 
 '' I believe it ; may you have your reward." 
 
 Lotty pursued her way, talking to Bear as she went. 
 
 " Come, Bear, tind Philip. We must be very kind to him. 
 He has been put out by our friend Flo., and we know how 
 aso-ravatiuu; she can be. Even Basil was disturbed, Bear, so 
 Flo. must have been very naughty. Ah ! Bear, some of these 
 days we shall all be happy and at rest ; but this is a sad time, 
 and worse is coming. ATe must wait in patience and hope, 
 Bear, preparing for sad things, but doing our duty in everything, 
 steadily, and in a good spirit. AVe are not Carry and Flo., we 
 are Lotty and Bear, willing to do all we can. So you know 
 where he is, Bear, do you ? — up the dingle ? Then let us make 
 haste ; it is late. Flo. has been telling Basil tales, which is very 
 naughty. But you are right. Bear ; there he is, lying on the 
 grass." 
 
 Lotty approached Philip, and sat down near him ; he was pale 
 as death, and looked as if he had been suffering intense agony ; 
 his hand was placed on his side. 
 
 " What do you here?" at last he said hoarsely. 
 
 " I came for you." 
 
 He replied sullenly, — 
 
 " I am going home." 
 
 " Do not move yet, Philip, you may bring on the spasms 
 again." 
 
 " How do you know I have had spasms?" 
 
 " Because your lips arc blue and your eyes bloodshot." 
 
 By degrees Philip divulged that, in the race after the two Erie 
 boys, he had brought on palpitation of the heart by over-exertion ; 
 he said nothing to Lotty of the rage he had been in. 
 
 '• We are not above two miles from High Leigh ; shall I go 
 home and send the carriage for you ? " 
 
 '• No ! " he said ; '' we return to Court Leigh. I will not have 
 it said that those unmannerly boys drove me away." 
 
 " They leave to-morrow for good." 
 
 " They may go to the devil ! " said Philip, gloomily. 
 
 While she bathed his hot forehead with the cool spring water, 
 and his heart grew calmer under the touch of her little fingers, 
 why did not Philip say he thanked her for her true wife's duty ?
 
 172 MARGARET 
 
 Ho pondered over her conduct, it is tme, and at last said to 
 liimseir, " 1 daro say .she has a motive for thus acting." 
 
 Alter a time Philip and Lotty returned slowly home, and the 
 dinner party at Court Leigh passed off much as usual, except 
 that Mrs. Bankes was more quiet, and glauoed at Lord Erlscourt 
 Avheu she indulged in any ot" her favorite remarks, with a sort 
 of pleasing hope that she was not observed. 
 
 Harold was extremely gloomy and unsociable, while Basil and 
 his two boys were full of fun and merriment. 
 
 Harold looked from time to time beneath his lowerinjr brows, 
 on tlie fine, frank countenance. The beautiful blue eyes, so 
 serious in a calm mood, so mirthful in a happy one, returned 
 Harold's glances with true brotherly love, and might probably 
 have had a due effect on his moody temperament ; but Mr. Her- 
 bert was announced, and though he came but to request Mar- 
 garet's immediate presence at the Rectory, Harold cased himself 
 in an impenetrable cloak of reserve until he left. Then the 
 sweet influence of Margaret's gentle spirit being removed, Har- 
 old drank deeply, Mrs. Bankes talked largely, Augusta flirted 
 abominably, Mrs. Royston spent the evening with her child, and 
 Lotty sat by Lady Katherine, with the two Ei'le boys playing at 
 chess under her surveillance. 
 
 Basil had accompanied Gerald home. 
 
 Lotty was absolutely and advisedly perpetrating a great act 
 of mischief against Lady Katherine, and, worse than all, making 
 her the principal actor to her own detriment. 
 
 " I trust jNIargaret may be able to return to-night with a 
 pleasing account of Mrs. Herbert." 
 
 " I hope so. Lady Katherine ; but I suppose you are aware 
 that if all is safely over, Mr. Herbert means still to take his wife 
 to Italy lor a year." 
 
 " I heard something of that, my dear." 
 
 " It Avill be better to take her there before the winter, rather 
 than she shoidd risk her precious life in precarious uncertainty 
 here. Though the doctor said she might quite recover after her 
 confinement, still Gerald is prepai^ed." 
 
 " Extremely judicious, my dear Lotty ; but pray with whom 
 does lie mean to intrust his parish?" 
 
 " That is just the point upon which I thought. Lady Kath- 
 erine, you could advise. None of us would like a total stranger ; 
 so I have betiiought myself of a very nice person with wiiom 
 we were intimate at lieau-eourt, and who was once curate ia 
 this parish before, Mr. Gray."
 
 AND HEK BRIDESMAIDS. 173 
 
 " My dear, I remember him ; a very pleasing young man." 
 
 " He has been rector for some time of a small living, within 
 ten miles of Beau-court. He is everywhere loved and re- 
 spected ; and the people here still remember his name with 
 gratitude and affection, though they have not seen him for ten 
 years." 
 
 " Quite the gentleman, I remember he was, my dear. By- 
 the-by ! yes ! — now I think of it — a-hem " 
 
 Lady Katherine was beginning to remember too much ; so 
 Lotty, like a true match-maker, threw her off the scent, say- 
 ing, — 
 
 " He is much more mild and gentle in his doctrines than 
 Gerald ; and as the latter does not intend to give him only a 
 curate's salai-y, but wishes him to have house and tithes, as if 
 he were rector, he will come among us in a very different light 
 to what he was before." 
 
 " True, very true. A curate is a curate," said Lady Kath- 
 ei'ine, " and a rector is a rectur. Very handsome of Mr. Her- 
 bert, indeed, and, as you say, no stranger to us." 
 
 " Tliat will be so agreeable to us all," said Lotty; "he will 
 appear like an old friend." 
 
 " 1 have long thought you very sensible, my dear Lotty ; and 
 the contrast of last summer's visit to this one, last summer, 
 when all your kind, amiable relations were here, makes me very 
 sad. I feel as we did when His gracious Majesty was, as it 
 were, under a cloud." 
 
 " Ah ! Brian, take care, Hugh will checkmate you," inter- 
 rupted Lotty. 
 
 " He may do it as often as he likes, provided I may sit by 
 you," said Brian, stoutly. 
 
 '' Such a contrast, my dear Lotty," continued Lady Katherine. 
 " That is a very vulgar young woman, Mrs. Bankes ; she took 
 it upon herself to give me some advice." 
 
 " O ! she is always advising, that woman," said Hugh. 
 *' Don't mind her. Lady Katlierine, for she is a fool." 
 
 "1 do not go quite as far as 'you, my dear Hugh." 
 
 " O ! but you liad far belter," interrupted Hugh, " for she is 
 an idiot." 
 
 "An idiot ! pray, who is an idiot?" said the object of their 
 remarks, who Avas never two miiuites in the same place. 
 
 Hugh got very red, and was none the less embarrassed upon 
 seeing that Lady Katherine was dependent upon him to get out 
 of the scrape. 
 
 15*
 
 17-4 MARGARET 
 
 Brian came valiantly to the rescue. " We think those people 
 idiots who meddle iu other people's matters." 
 
 " Very true indeed, very sensible remark ; that is what I 
 always say to my friends. Lady Kalherine ; and if any one was 
 to remark how shamefully Augusta is flirting with Sir Harold, 
 I should say, 'Tray, what business is it of yours?' I should, 
 indeed." 
 
 '• Maihim ! what do you mean?" said the astonished Lady 
 Kathorine. 
 
 *' ! it is as plain to see as the nose on one's face, what she 
 is after. Margaret away, too, and he quite foolish from wine." 
 
 Ladv Katherine walked in a stately manner across to where 
 her son sat ; she planted herself hrmly and decidedly opposite 
 Augusta. The latter blushed deeply, and drew back, while 
 Harold said, — 
 
 " Don't go, Augusta, don't leave me ; tell me some more 
 about those countries." 
 
 " Sir Harold Leigh, your mother sits before you, and she 
 wishes to know whom you call Augusta?" 
 
 Harold had suiricicul sense left to discern that his mother was 
 much disconcerted, so he endeavored to command himself. 
 
 Not being accustomed to see men iu such a state. Lady Kath- 
 erine contented herself with keeping strict watch over her son, 
 until her chair was announced, without being aware that Mrs. 
 Bankes's remark had any truth iu it. She departed in a most 
 stately rustle of indignation, determining that Court Leigh should 
 be cleared of such company on tlie morrow. 
 
 Lotty looked at Philip after Lady Katherine's departure, as if 
 to ask his assistance in persuading Harold to retire, and that the 
 party should break up. 
 
 He understood her look without showing any inclination to 
 oblige her. " What was it to him how people conducted them- 
 Belves?" thus said that dark countcnanfe, as he sat in hi- quiet 
 corner, caring for none but the little cliild iigure. 
 
 Again she appealed to him with a look he had never received 
 from her before. 
 
 He grew excited; he would make her come and petition for 
 ■what she wished, her dark eyes should implore, her sweet lips 
 beseech him to interfere. He knew she only cared thus because 
 it was her ^largari't's husband. He had begun to feel, that only 
 through Margaret could he disturb the sweet content her face 
 usually wore. 
 
 But he lost sight of her for a moment, as Mrs. Bankes placed
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 175 
 
 herself right in front of him, to favor him with a flowery de- 
 scription of Lady Katherine's looks and Avords. 
 
 Though he interrupted the interesting story Avithout an apol- 
 ogy, and left Mrs. Baukes, not even muttering an excuse, in vain 
 he looked round the room — Lotty was gone. 
 
 "O !" said his tormentor, "if you are looking for Lotty, of 
 course she has gone to bed, and high time too, for sucli a child 
 as that. But I don't intend you to go otf after her. Let the 
 poor httle thing have her first sleep over before you come in 
 with your curtain lecture." 
 
 Mrs. Bankes was getting rampant, Margaret, Lord Erlscourt, 
 and Lady Kathcrine all driven off the field, and Augusta giving 
 her such a fine subject for her usual conversation, she would not 
 lose such an opportunity. Mr. Leigh at last should hear her 
 mind. 
 
 She rushed into a vortex of mischief, and Avas in a high state 
 of happiness, at seeing Philip's countenance becoming darker 
 and more morose, when the door opened and Lotty appeared, 
 accompanied by Margaret. Her disordered curls and glowing 
 cheeks plaijily proved to Philip she liad been doing anything but 
 sleeping, Avhile Margaret, Avith serene joy and happiness, Avent 
 up to Harold and said, — 
 
 " Dear Millicent is safe, and has a little daughter ! " 
 
 " I care nought about it," said the ungracious husband. 
 
 No change took place in Margaret, but with placid manner 
 she continued, — 
 
 " I am sure you must all be tired, so I Avill ring for lights." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 The morroAV was a day of events and consultations. Of the 
 latter, that betAveen Lady Katherine and her son Avas the longest 
 and most ineffectual, and the one between Lotty and her hus- 
 band Avas the shortest and most decisive. 
 
 For he said, "• Lotty, \ve go home to-day ; " and she ansAvered, 
 " Very Avell, Philip ; " and they Avent. Not, however, before 
 Lotty had her full share of most of the other consultations, in- 
 cluding a long dissertation from Mrs. Royston on the subject of 
 teething, and the angelic way in Avhich her baby submitted to
 
 176- MARGARET. 
 
 that universal plague of mankind. Why Providence did not 
 ordain tiiat they should cut tiieir teeth wiieu they <;rcw up, 
 formed a never tailing subject ot" discussion and wonder on the 
 part of Mrs. Roystou ; beginning with the agonies such precious 
 little innocents were made to suffer, tlie torturing suspense of 
 tender parents while a tootli was coming through, the vast' 
 auKiunt of bibs and pinafores damped during the process, and 
 the expense of Mrs. Somebody's soothing syrup, to say nothing 
 of India-rubber rings, &c., &c. 
 
 Mrs. Bankes was for taking Augusta roundly to task, which 
 she did ibr tiie brief period that the latter allowed her to speak. 
 
 " I have always heard that you were celel)rated for going 
 great lengths, Augusta, but, for my part, I would never believe 
 it, nor more would Frederick, until we saw what we saw last 
 niglit. Shametul indeed ! and the poor man quite out of himself." 
 
 " 1 have not now to inform you, Mrs. IJankes, that the 
 friendship which subsists between Sir Harold Leigli and myself 
 is warranted by our long actjuaintauce, to say notliing of my 
 having l)een originally the first object of his affections." 
 
 ''Fiddle-de-dee! I know uuich better than that; and be- 
 sides, to my innocent mind, that is an additional reason why you 
 should be more circumspect. If you nuist flirt, my dear, I will 
 lend you my dear Frederick for an evening, knowing full well 
 that the darling fellow will return to his doting wife more fondly 
 than ever : but to fasten yourself to the side of a man who did 
 not know whether he was talking to a man or a woman " 
 
 " Excuse me, .Sir Harold was perfectly awai'e to whom he 
 was speaking, which I only mention for his sake, as your 
 remarks about myself are — beneath my notice." 
 
 '• But I thiidv it my duty to tell you what we all think of von, 
 don't we, Lotty ? " 
 
 " Which it is useless to do, Flo., if she does not think so her- 
 self," said Lotty. 
 
 " You cannot accuse me of flirting with your husbaml, child," 
 said Augusta, bitterly. 
 
 '' You are welcome to do so," replied Lotty, quietly. 
 
 " Ah ! Lotty, you don't know what I know. I was just pick- 
 ing a flower lierL^ and there in the garden, and seeing twt; people 
 in the (tedai- walk " 
 
 " Which two pcfjpU' had quite as much right to walk ihei-e as 
 you or I, Flo.," interrni)ted Lotty; ''but good-by for the 
 present — I must run over to the Rectory, to inquire after Milli- 
 cent."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 177 
 
 Lotty did not look at Augusta as she left the room, and Mrs. 
 Baukes finished her exordium to the chairs and tables. 
 
 As Lotty and Margaret walked back together from the Rec- 
 tory, they had a consultation which was different from all the 
 others, inasmuch as it began in love and ended so. 
 
 " My Queen Meg, we go home to-day." 
 
 " O, my Lotty ! " 
 
 " Yes, you know you and I are under the laws of the Leighs ; 
 you have no wish, neither have I, to dispute their wills." 
 
 " Ah, Lotty, a different fate is before me. I must dispute my 
 Plarold's, I, who could live only to please him." 
 
 " But, Margaret, we could not expect Harold to be good all 
 at once, especially as he does not act for the sake of goodness. 
 Let us do as Hope does." 
 
 And Lotty repeated, — 
 
 " Her bark upon the quicksands, 
 Ten thousand floods o'erwhelm ; 
 Hope looked above, — ' This is the time 
 For God to take the helm.' " 
 
 "But should my resolution fail, Lotty? " 
 
 " It will not, Margaret, because it has Duty for its father, 
 and Love for its mother. But you will have much to bear." 
 
 " I fear nothing, so that my Harold's good name is not tar- 
 ijished. I think, Lotty, I could bear the loss of his love, rather 
 than know him to be evil thoutrht of." 
 
 " And yet it is his love for you that is his best safeguard at 
 present. Queen Margaret. Somehow the organs of veneration 
 and religion have been doled out to the Leighs in scant measure : 
 pray God we may live to see that mended, Margaret, then avb 
 need fear the visits of Flos, and Augustas as little as Avhisks of 
 the wind or flights of crowds ; but. Queen Margaret " 
 
 " My Lotty ! " 
 
 " I live near you, but you must make up your mind to think 
 me far off." 
 
 " Why? my dearest Lotty ! " 
 
 " Because, because, the Leighs are rather strange, as you 
 know ; they like to keep their own property to themselves." 
 
 " Do you mean that Philip will prevent your coming to see 
 me? that living so near I shall not have your dear company, 
 your sweet, wase counsel, your loving face to look upon? O 
 Lotty ! he never, never can be so cruel." 
 
 " He does not mean to be cruel, dear Meg, and it may never
 
 178 MARGAKET. 
 
 happen ; but I wish you to be prepared, that you may not think 
 your Lotty uukiud, uuthouglitt'ul. You must kuow, Queen Mar- 
 garet, I am the most to blame — 1 committed the sin of marry- 
 ing without love ; thus I must bear my lot without a murmur ; 
 but as I cauuot .^ive Philip that love which I feel in my heart I 
 could give to a husbaud, 1 must be the more scrupulous in doing 
 luy duty." 
 
 " Sweetest, best Lotty ! with your child's face and man's wis- 
 dom, how you shame me." 
 
 '* Then you are prepared for Harold's having a reaction, are 
 you, Queen Meg? He has been good a long time, and in the 
 course of nature, oue must expect he will now have a bad turn, 
 because his resululions have no foundation. Can you bear all 
 that is to happen, and know that Lotty, who loves you more 
 than all the rest of the world, is sitting at home and not hover- 
 ing about you in loving help and sympathy ? " 
 
 " You will pray for me, Lotty? " 
 
 " Faitlifully, as I hope for mercy and strength myself. Har- 
 old, if left to you and me, we flatter ourselves could be nuinaged ; 
 but witli that rogue. Price, poor, mistaken Lady Katherinc, and 
 that uncompromising Gerald, he will be driven into a state of 
 distraction. He wants money too, does he not?" 
 
 '• I fear so," said Margaret. 
 
 " And I suppose if you were to lessen your establishment by 
 one half, it would be much more comfortable ; but Lady Kathi 
 eriue would go into fits, as if the Leighs were born with less of 
 anus, legs, or bi'aius, than other mortals." 
 
 " It is quite true, Lotty ; a large establishment swallows up 
 money in so great, yet so unsatisfactory a way, that I long to 
 live in a cottage, where, Avaiting on my Harold myself, love 
 woidd Ik; the only wages asked, and love should be the only pay- 
 master." 
 
 '•If it were not for Lady Katherinc, I should think Harold 
 would soon see the expediency of sudi a tiling." 
 
 " Harold wishes to leave Court Leigh, everything, and settle 
 abroad." 
 
 " I should mucli prefer an honorable economy at home," said 
 Lotty; '"a few ill-niilur^'d people might woudi!!-, but the bless- 
 ing of it, the good, the example — besides, I should imagine it 
 was a mistaken notion, that of living cheaper abroad ; a person 
 of extravagant habits will be extravagant in Siberia. — But 
 here is Basil, and the two boys are close behind ; they have 
 come to bid us farewell, I suppose."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 179 
 
 Basil lingered by Margaret's side, as if lie saw traces of a 
 hidden grief in her countenance, Avhile the boys uproariously 
 lamented to Lotty that she was not going with them. 
 
 " AVhy should you stop at home with that Philip Leigh, who 
 never speaks a word to you ? " said Brian. 
 
 "And we would never leave you a moment alone," said Hugh. 
 
 " That would be too much of a good thing, Hugh," said 
 Lotty. 
 
 " I meant you should never be dull with us," said Hugh. 
 
 " I do not think I am dull anywhere," returned Lotty. 
 
 " No, that you are not ; and I only know, if I were king of 
 the universe, I would have no woman born who is not like you." 
 
 " Then you Avould have too much of a good thing," 
 
 " We could never have too much of you, and Basil thinks so 
 too ; and though we are going a voyage in the ' Ripple,' yet we 
 are quite sorrowful to leave you." 
 
 "And I am in sorrow about another thing," said Hugh. " I 
 should like to have kicked Mr. Bankes before I went." 
 
 " Why? poor, imfortunate, meek man ! " said Lotty. 
 
 " Just to astonish Mrs. Bankes," returned Hugh. 
 
 " I did not know you were such bad boys." 
 
 " We are not very bad boys, for we went this morning and 
 kissed Milly's baby, which nurse said showed we were kind- 
 hearted boys ; but, Mrs. Leigh, when I kissed the baby I said 
 something to Hugh." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "Shall I tell, Hugh?" 
 
 " Yes, you may as well, Brian, because, perhaps, she will," 
 whispered Hugh. 
 
 " I said, I wished I might kiss you instead of the baby." 
 
 " Whenever I have any kisses to give, you two shall have 
 them" 
 
 " Thank you ! when do you think that will happen ? " said 
 Hugh. 
 
 " That is more than I can say." 
 
 " But you are always kissing Bear," said Brian. 
 
 " Because no one else does." 
 
 " Then no one shall kiss me but you, if you will treat me 
 the same." 
 
 " Come, come, do not let us have any more such childish non- 
 sense," said Lotty. " I think you both very fine boys, and I like 
 you both very much, and that you can believe without any 
 saluting."
 
 180 MARGARET 
 
 "Ah ! " saifl Brian, sorrowfiilly ; " it is all that Philip." 
 
 "What is all this sigliiag and gi'oauing about, eh?" said 
 Basil. 
 
 '' Mrs. Leigh will not give us each a kiss, now that we are go- 
 ing away, and may be drowned or shipwrecked." 
 
 " You impudent boys ! how could you think of making such a 
 request to Mrs. Leigh? Mrs. Bankes, or Miss Clare, now " 
 
 " Ha, ha ! brother, we will give you all our share, should such 
 ever fall to our lot ; but we will keep Mrs. Leigh's." 
 
 " No, no," said Basil, " the man Avho has a right to salute 
 Mrs. Leigh's cheek, knows his happiness, and values it too well 
 to share it." 
 
 " You are one more foolish than another," pouted Lotty. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Philip Leigh returned home. " Now I shall begin serious- 
 ly," said he to himself, " to work ray will." 
 
 Lotty was always in the habit of rising with the sun. The 
 fresh beauty of the young day was like life to her frame, the 
 deep stillness of the yet sleeping earth raised her soul to the con- 
 fines of Heaven, from whence came the roseate harbingers of the 
 sun. 
 
 This time was to Lotty what happy dreams arc to the sick and 
 weary. 8he gathered in fresh spirit and resolution lor the duties 
 of the day, as the Israelites of old gathered their manna. 
 
 Many a kind action, many a timely visit, did Lotty i)ay during 
 these early hours, making the poor people think that one of the 
 ministering angels, that watch and guard the dwellings of men at 
 night, had forgotten to seek her place in Heaven, when day 
 revealed the secrets of earth. 
 
 And she would appear at breakfast, her clear skin glowing 
 with the pink hue of the pearl shell, her eyes like glittering dew- 
 drops, her whole appearance so fresh and fragrant, that Philip 
 felt, as she sat opposite his dark moody countenance, that she 
 would deem herself more unmatched with him than ever. So 
 he forbade the early excursions. 
 
 In vain Bear's impatient whine was heard, now at the door, 
 now below the window, now at the gate ; his lazy little mistress 
 was in bed.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 181 
 
 In perceiving that this prohibition really had an effect upon 
 Lotty's gpirits, Philip lost sight of the clanger to her health. 8he 
 had said, in her usual quiet manner, '• Very well, Philip." 
 
 And while he rejoiced that it seemed to tame her, or rather 
 subdue her, he did not know that he was depriving her of life. 
 
 Lotty grew pale, then languid ; then she lay, when not wanted 
 by Philip, on the grass, on a sofa, anywhere, so that it was 
 recumbent. Bear was without doubt a miserable dog ; and while 
 no Avord escaped Lotty's lips of either complaint or remonstrance, 
 Bear expressed, in canine language, that he was on the verge of 
 distraction. How long Philip, in his blind selfishness, might 
 have continued the experiment, cannot be known. But Lotty's 
 nurse interfered. 
 
 Having been born and bred among the Beauvillians, it never 
 entered her innocent and unsuspecting heart that there lived 
 people who not only could, and did, torment their fellow-crea- 
 tures, but who plagued those they loved best. 
 
 She concluded that this new arrangement proceeded from a 
 •whim of her nursling's ; and finding all her private remon- 
 strances to her (as well they might be) unavailing, she thought it 
 but right to appeal to Mr. Leigh herself. 
 
 " Yes ! Mr. Leigh, but she is the pet of the world, for all she 
 is so wilful. If you don't lay the law of a husband on her, she 
 will slip through our fingers." 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking, my good woman?" 
 
 " Of Miss Lotty, sir," said nurse, angrily, and advisedly 
 oblivious of her married condition. " Don't you see how ill 
 she is?" 
 
 " I have noticed she looks a little pale lately, but thought it 
 was the heat." 
 
 "It is no such thing, Mr. Leigh, it is all her own fault, for not 
 getting in the fresh air of a morning ; all the Beauvilliers family 
 are the same. The fresh morning air is meat, and drink, and life 
 to them. And look at the change in only a fortniglit come 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " Pooh — pooh ! " said Philip, " old nurses' tales." 
 
 " Old nurses' tales, indeed ! then just call her to come to you, 
 from under that tree where she is now lying. If she comes to 
 you with the step she had ten days ago, I never nursed her." 
 
 '' Pooh — pooh ! " safd Philip again ; but he called her. 
 
 bhe looked round, as if she only half heard him. 
 
 "Ay ! ay ! she would have been by your side ere this ten days 
 ago, said nurse. 
 
 16
 
 182 MARGARET 
 
 He called again, quicker and sharper in tone, for he really 
 feared. 
 
 81ie rose lia?tily, and seemed as if about to run, but her step 
 faltered ; she held out her arms as if to catch something ; and 
 feeling the faithful, loving Bear, she clasped him close, half-sink- 
 ing on the ground. Philip fle\v to her, the nurse following. 
 "\V4tli halt-closed eyes, and white, parted lips, lay that loveliest, 
 fairest thing. 
 
 " She has fainted," said the nurse. " Don't touch her," as 
 Philip Avildly tried to clasp her in his arms ; " the dog will do 
 you a mischief. I Avill get some water ; see, she is better 
 already. Here, fan her Avitli her hat, but do not unclasp her 
 hands from the dog's neck, for your life. I know how he took 
 on when she was so ill, after her father's death." 
 
 As Philip looked at the innocent victim of his selfish caprice, 
 he could have sworn her a lifetime of devotion and love, so that 
 she would but look at him once. It seemed as if, even in a 
 fainting fit, Lotty must obey his wishes, for she opened her eyes 
 and looked at him. He poured out upon her the fondest, ten- 
 derest Avoi-ds. 
 
 At last she said, — 
 
 " I rose too quickly, Philip ; it made me giddy." 
 
 "But why are you thus weak and ill? — O Lotty! my 
 Lottv ! " 
 
 " I do not know, Philip ; but perhaps I am going to die." 
 
 " Die ! Lotty ; die ! ah, Lottv ! " 
 
 " I feel as if I should, Philip"." 
 
 " O Lotty ! talk not thus ; you agonize me. Death can 
 never touch one so fair as you." 
 
 " I shall go to my fatiier, Philip," said Lotty, quickly, and 
 "witli a faint smile. 
 
 I'liilip's heart beat witli a strange fluttering sensation he had 
 felt twice before. He put his baud to his side — his lips became 
 blue. 
 
 She would prefer death to living with him. That was all he 
 had gained by his late experiment. 
 
 " Nurse, give Philip some water first ; see, his heart beats so, 
 and that miprht bring on spasms." 
 
 Lotty was never again Ibrbidden to seek the heaven's nutri- 
 ment her peculiar frame i-ecpiired. She got as rapidly strong 
 again as she had become ill. 
 
 Philip wont to consult a doctor about his heart ; who told him 
 there was no disease at present, but lie must avoid all violent
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 183 
 
 amotions, to prevent any return of spasms. And this advice 
 was given to a man who never gave his heart a moment's peace 
 or holy calm. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 While Philip was enacting the part of a tender and judicious 
 husband at High Leigh, Huiold v, as keeping up the same char- 
 acter at Court Leigh. 
 
 Their visitors had departed. Mrs. Bankes having declared, 
 in a private consultation with her husband, that they had all 
 become moi-e stupid than owls now that Lotty was gone, made 
 her dear Frederick declare that urgent business called him to 
 London. 
 
 Mrs. Royston was beginning to think that the air of Cheshire 
 did not suit the operation of teething ; besides, the Leighs lived 
 five miles from the nearest medical man — a fact that had kept 
 poor Mrs. Royston in a perpetual state of alarm — and many 
 times had the unwilling young 'Squire to go the lastjhing at 
 night to the stables, to desire a man and horse to be kept iu 
 readiness, at a moment's notice, in consequence of some unusual 
 symptoms of uncomfortableness on the part of young Master 
 Royston. 
 
 " Though," as Carry declared to her husband, " it was only 
 one word for their baby and two for Margaret's, who, she was 
 certain, Avould have a lit that night, it looked so remarkably re- 
 dundant in health and spirits." 
 
 Augusta still remained, but she was only waiting an escort to 
 Loudon. Tlie same train could not have held her and Mrs. 
 Bankes without an explosion ; or, as Mr. Bankes elegantly ex- 
 pressed it, " their coming to bats." Harold seemed, after his 
 steady pursuit of active and Avorthy habits, to have become, all 
 at once, an exaggerated edition of his former self. Iu vain the 
 devoted Margaret tried every winning way, made use of every 
 wife-like art, to subdue his morose, unkind mood. Brooding 
 over his want of money, and the dilemma he had placed himself 
 in by commencing so vigorously the repair of his estate, Avithout 
 counting the cost, he, like many men before him, laid the blame 
 of his present unfortunate condition on another. And that 
 other was his wife.
 
 184 MARGARET 
 
 Margaret had been the originator, the instigator, the adviser, 
 the eucrourager of it all. And Margaret -vvourd not listen to his 
 ■wishes to give all up. and go ^vitll him to any other fountry than 
 that which coutaiiad Court Leigh. And this was that .«anie 
 Margaret who, early in their married lile, deprecated his depart- 
 ure from her side but an hour, even for what he deemed neces- 
 sary ; who had thought that the Avorld, including their teuants 
 and people in particular, might dissolve into emptiness and 
 vapor, sooner than that her Harold should be annoyed. It 
 needed no poisonous whisperer by his side to make Margaret 
 appear at this time a stumbhug-block in the Avay of his happi- 
 ness and content. 
 
 In the heat of some of his arguments, he had told her of hia 
 banker's account. " Sell some outlying estate to clear the rest," 
 said ^Margaret. 
 
 It was all entailed. 
 
 " Let us reduce our establishment," she suggested. But in this 
 plan she met with most strenuous opposition trom Lady Kather- 
 ine. This stern but amiable old lady had deemed it no more 
 than her bouuden duty to keep Avard and watch all day long 
 while Augusta remained at Court Leigh ; and as she imagined 
 that nothing was ever done or said tluit she ought not to ha\e a 
 voice in the matter, she had arrived at a much greater knoA\l- 
 edge of her sou's affairs than he ever intended she should. But 
 he was not ill-pleased when he found she sided with him against 
 his Avife, in the matter of reducing their establishment. 
 
 " Court Leigh had ever been kept up in a style that no family 
 in Cheshire could exceed," said she. 
 
 '• But there is no reason Avhy avc should do so, dear Lady 
 Katherine," pleaded Margaret. " Such state as avc keep does 
 not add to our happiness, but rather increases our cares." 
 
 " It should never be rei)ortcd in the country that the Leighs 
 djd such a thing; it Avould be my deathblow," said Lady 
 Katherine. 
 
 " ^'^v," ansAverod SAvect ^Margaret, " Avhat is the country to 
 US, if we are in (lcl)l? Every year Avill but add to our dillicul- 
 ties, until the end Avill be Avorsc than Avhat Ave fear now." 
 
 " For my part I caimot conceive hoAv such a state of things 
 has occurred," said Lady Katherine. " Price must have been 
 grossly deficient in his duties towards you, my dear son, and I 
 can only advise you to make him refund." 
 
 '• lie says I am in debt to him live thousand pounds, mother," 
 Buid Iluroid
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 185 
 
 «' Monstrous !" said his mother, " quite monstrous ! I Avould 
 have him taken up and put into gaol until he confessed the whole 
 matter." 
 
 Lady Katherine's advice and ideas upon the subject by no 
 means tended to lighten it in any way. No child could be more 
 ignorant of the real case, and no queen more resolute to keep 
 her state and crown, though it was clear to others slie had 
 neither. 
 
 Margaret grew pale and sorrowful, but the soft eyes never 
 varied in their look of devoted love ; the sweet lips could utter 
 no Avords but endearing persuasions to act with firm and upright 
 decision. And she was alone in her thorny path ; no Basil to 
 encourage the wayward Harold ; no Millicent to bid her work 
 on in faith and hope ; no sweet Lotty to soothe, encourage, and 
 point out some happy mediimi path. 
 
 Margaret sat in her garden by the newly-made grave of 
 Harold's favorite — that petted and beloved horse, which had, 
 by its traits of instinct and ati'ection, first Avon for Harold the 
 glance of the eyes and interest in the heart of the sweetest, gen- 
 tlest being on earth. Tlie horse had died from inflammation, 
 caused by beuig overridden. His death Avas sufiicient grief to 
 Harold, Avithout being told by Mr. Herbert that his own pas- 
 sionate mood had prompted the mad gallop, his own temper had 
 inflicted this fresh grief. 
 
 Harold had shut himself up, after a series of insulting epithets 
 poured upon Gerald, that made the latter mourn over the 
 Avretched change, and had not been seen since. 
 
 Marsraret had desired the servants to burv the favorite in the 
 sweetest spot of her gai'den ; and, Avheu the last sod Avas placed 
 over him, she came in lonely silence to ask God, from her heart, 
 to spare her this bitter cup. So pure, so devoted Avas her love 
 for Plarold, that she asked for no return of his love to her, but 
 that he should perform his duty to God and his people. Any- 
 thing she could bear towards herself, so that he Avas irreproach- 
 able in character and name. 
 
 She felt arms thrown round her, and sweet kisses given her. 
 
 '■■ My Lotty ! " 
 
 " Queen Margaret, hoAV ill you look ! " 
 
 " And you also, Lotty. It is three Aveeks since I have seen 
 you — O, my sweet Lotty!" And Margaret wept uncontrol- 
 lable tears. 
 
 " Dear Meg ! Aveep on, it Avill relieve you. I knoAv my 
 school-wife has been very unhappy, and you knoAV you can 
 16 *
 
 186 MARGARET 
 
 pour out your sorrows to your little school-husband without 
 lear." 
 
 No, not even to that little, faithful school-husband could the 
 loyal Avifc utter one word against Harold. 
 
 " I feel low and out of spirits, Lotty." 
 
 ""When does Harold go? I hear he intends trying 'The 
 Marguerite ' this summer." 
 
 '' lie leaves on Mouday, after the rent-day ; but he will not 
 take a long excursion this year." 
 
 " Do you go witli him? " 
 
 " No, dear ; it is deemed uuAvise for me to do so, because, you 
 know, sweet Lotty, your little goddaughter is coming soon." 
 
 " How unlucky that you should have all this to undergo at 
 such a time ; and I — ah ! Queen Margaret, I have but come to 
 say farewell I " 
 
 '"How, Lotty?" 
 
 " Philip is going abroad." 
 
 " "When, and for how long, and where, dearest Lotty?" 
 
 " I know nothing more than that we go to-morrow ; where, 
 or for how long, I am ignorant. But you will have Milly, dar- 
 ling Meg," continued Lotty, her owu tears falling as she saw 
 Margaret's despair. 
 
 " Lotty, where you are there always seems to me less of sin 
 and the world's deceit. Though I have seen so little of you 
 lately, it was pleasant to think I had but to send for you — it 
 Avas more than pleasant, it was my best worldly comfort. ^^ ell, 
 if more nmst be borne, God grant me strength to bear it ! As 
 you say, I shall have dear ]Milly ; and, Lotty, she is recovering 
 •wonderfully; Dr. Murray has scarcely any fears. But, Lotty, 
 my sweetest, dearest Lotty, my cai-es arc doubled. AVheu you 
 go, it seems as if some goodness left me." 
 
 " AVell, it is a great comfort to be so missed," said Lotty, 
 with an attempt at choerfidness ; " so now come with me, to bid 
 Lady Katheriue and Pru. farewell, and the dear Milly. "When 
 I am away, I shall be writing forever, and have a great deal to 
 tell yoii. And as I may go to some \mknown scenes and places, 
 you may amuse yourself Avith publishing my interesting and 
 original documents, and saving up any emolument that you may 
 gain thereby ior my goddaughter." Thus JvOtty chalted on, 
 ami no our. would have believetl that the little, lively thing bore 
 Avithin her a heart that ached more than all. 
 
 Lotty knew Philip Leigh had a purpose in this sudden ar- 
 rangement, and in taking her from England, her friends, her
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 187 
 
 companions — not even permitting her nurse to go with her, in 
 giving her no clew to his plans, no explanation of his intentions, 
 she defined that her fortitude and patience were to be put to 
 some severe test — some extraordinary trials. To her tender, 
 levins nature, the leaving Margaret was sufficient to almost tear 
 her heart in sunder. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Though Philip had given Lotty but tAventy-four hours' notice, 
 dui'ino: which time she had to make her leave-taking visits, and 
 to reconcile her dear old nurse to her absence — a very difficult 
 task, and not completed either — she and Bear were ready at 
 the appointed hour. 
 
 " I am not going to be troubled Avith that dog." 
 
 For a moment Lotty turned white. Then recovering on the 
 instant, she kissed him between the eyes, and sprang into the 
 carriage. 
 
 They were to go to Liverpool, eighteen miles, in their own 
 carriage. 
 
 Whether in that last kiss Lotty had given Bear any private 
 instructions, could not be ascertained ; but on arriving at the 
 hotel which they usually frequented, the first object that greeted 
 their sight was Bear. 
 
 And Lotty seemed in no degree surprised. Philip waited until 
 they Avere in the sitting-room, and then, in a loud and angry 
 voice, he SAvore he Avould send the dog back. Bear growled as 
 he heard the angry tones. 
 
 Philip struck him sharply Avith a riding-Avhip. 
 
 Instantly the dog sprang up, Avith a hoAvl of rage, but not 
 quicker than Lotty, Avho, placing herself in front of her husband, 
 receiA'ed the huge form of Bear on her slight figure, every bristle 
 raised, his eyes of a glaring red. 
 
 Philip shuddered as he saw those sharp, glistening fangs 
 Avithiu an inch of the small, Avhite throat, and knew that, Avhen 
 blinded with rage, such bloodhounds as Bear saw not friend 
 from foe. 
 
 "All! Bear, be good; is this like a gentleman? are these 
 your manners ? would you hurt poor Lotty ? " 
 
 The bristles fell, the tail drooped ; Bear turned aAvay his huge
 
 188 MARGARET 
 
 jaws, his eyes assumed a penitent and subdued look, and with a 
 ■svliine of apology, he crouched at the feet of his little mistress. 
 
 " The dog is far too savage to be loose," said Philip ; " I'll 
 have his proud spirit curbed with the wliip." 
 
 " No, Philip, you must not beat hiui, for then you will, 
 indeed, make him savage." 
 
 '• As soon as Ross has done his horses, I'll have the hound 
 chained up, and a good flogging will teach him not only obe- 
 dience, but better manners." 
 
 Lotty looked at Philip with the first symptoms of defiance he 
 had ever seen in her eyes towards him. And he Avas not much 
 mistaken in reading contempt there also. But he left the room 
 to issue his orders ; and when he returned, after the lapse of an 
 hour, he found Lotty prepared for the dinner that had been 
 ordered for them, and Bear sleeping quietlv under the sofa. 
 Lotty was pale, but her eyes dark and brilliant. 
 
 " Send my servant here," said Pliilip to tlie Avaiter. 
 
 " You nuist not have my dog beaten," said Lotty, calmly. 
 
 " I intend to have liim beaten," said Philip, coldly. 
 
 " I would rather that you shot him, Philip." 
 
 " I see no use in that, Lotty. I mean but to tame him." 
 
 " That is not true, Philip, you know ; witli a nature like a 
 hound's, you ruin him if you beat him." 
 
 " We will see al>out tliat," said Philip, " after the operation 
 is over, lie can then be shot if he proves wortliless." 
 
 " He shall be shot before he is beaten," said Lotty ; " here 
 are your pistols. I have got them ready." 
 
 As she handed him one of the pistols, her cheek grew paler, her 
 eyes darker and more resolute ; slie hold the other in her hand. 
 
 The servant was heard approaching. 
 
 " Come here, Bear," said Lotty. 
 
 The noble hound was by her side as she spoke. 
 
 " Will you shoot my dog, if you do not like him, Philip, 
 rather than have iiini l)eaten?" 
 
 " No ; he shall l)e flogged." 
 
 "Then I slioot him myself," said Lotty. 
 
 Philip heard the click of the lock ; she placed the pistol to the 
 loving dog's ear, who was looking up at lier with pleased intel- 
 ligence. 
 
 " Keep to one side," she said. " Now, my Bear, farewell. 
 You take Lolly's heart with you." 
 
 An irresistible impulse to give him one more kiss saved Bear's 
 life.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 189 
 
 Philip caught her hand. 
 
 " I did not know you were such a fool about the dog. He 
 shall not be flogged." 
 
 " Ou your word, Philip?" 
 
 " On my word." 
 
 She took his hand, looked at it for a moment, and then said, 
 " Thank you, Philip." Still holding the hand, she continued, — 
 " Is Bear to go home with Ross, or remain with us ? " As Philip 
 hesitated to reply, she said, — 
 
 " I am afraid, Philip, he will find us out, wherever we are." 
 
 " Then take him with you." 
 
 " Thank you, Philip," and she touched his hand with her 
 lips. 
 
 Her face resumed its usual color, and her pretty, playful 
 manner returned ; she and Bear had quite a scene of love and 
 adoration, enacted in whispers and dumb show. 
 
 Presently Lotty rose, and bringing Philip a glass of water, 
 asked him if his heart pained him. 
 
 " A little," he allowed. 
 
 In fact, this strange, wayward man, thus battling with his own 
 happiness, was contending with several very different emotions. 
 He was baffled, and she victorious. That went against the grain. 
 He was really irritated against the dog, and his unkind nature 
 longed to inflict punishment, no matter what effect it had.-upoa 
 him. 
 
 But the resolute daring of the childlike wife, the ease and 
 fearless way in which she handled the pistols, and the deter- 
 mined courage with which she prepared to destroy the creature 
 she loved so Avell, rather than have it suffer, excited his warm- 
 est admiration. And then the simple earnestness Avith which 
 she said, " Thank you, Philip," the unsolicited touch of her 
 lips, though but upon his hand, sent the blood rushing wildly 
 through his heart, with a feeling of ecstasy he could scarce 
 define himself. For amid all the love he bore the little child- 
 wife, yet sti-onger rose the spirit of pride and self-will Avithiu 
 him. This was the life he had longed for, this the excitement 
 that was to color his days with alternate visions of clouds and 
 rosy skies, and which was to indemnify him for having placed 
 himself at all within the dull noose of matrimony. And yet 
 strong must be the love which caused that proud heart to throb 
 thus, though he could say to himself, " I will let her keep the 
 dog ; through his means I may gain gi'eater hold over that wild 
 spirit."
 
 190 MARGARET 
 
 That he coiikl love thus, yet think thus, gave him an insight 
 into his feelings that puzzled and provoked him by their strange- 
 ness. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 The good angels appointed to guide the steps of the Leighs 
 must have abandoned their posts — gloomy and irascible was 
 the heretofore indolent Harold. In vain Margaret became, in 
 her loving wife's duty, so sweet, so gentle, so thouglitful, the 
 essence of a dozen Margarets seemed to emanate from her. 
 Harold neither looked at nor spoke to her. What mattered it 
 to him if she was good, and amiable, and loving, beyond all com- 
 parison, she yet would not give way in one thing. " The ]Mar- 
 guerite " was her rival. As such, Margaret hated her with a 
 cordial, honest dislike, that never swerved amid all her gentle- 
 ness. The more Haiold grew to know that she was immovable, 
 the more did he harden his heart, and elevate " the Marguerite" 
 to the highest place in his regard, and consequently her rival fell 
 in proportion. Like Philip, he fed and nourisliod himself on 
 this excitement ; he loved to think himself a victim ; he grew 
 enamoured of the struggle, caring little, in this strange charm of 
 novelty, whether he was right or wrong; Margaret should give 
 way, should learn to like, to live in, to make a home of her 
 rival. When she had spent a year witli him cruising about the 
 lovely sliores of the Mediterranean, then he would give way. 
 Margaret might take her rival, sell her, burn her, ilestroy every 
 vestige and (race of her ; she alone should reign Queen Mar- 
 garet as heretofore. But he would have his own way first. 
 
 On the rent-day all went well. The tenants were loud in 
 their expressions of gratitude for all that their landlord had been 
 lately doing for them, and witli a good fi-eling aj)peared to a 
 man, and what was of more consequence, every man seemed to 
 make it a point of honor to have no arrears. Every farthing 
 was paid down with cheerlul ahicrity, every old debt settled. It 
 should be through no fault of theirs, if their young landlord was 
 discouraged in his present good course. 
 
 If Harold had been in a better mood, he coidd not have failed 
 to be touched by the cxiubiliou of feelings until now uukuown 
 to him.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 191 
 
 But his first act on the following morning was to desire that 
 one half of the proceeds of the reut-day should be sent to cer- 
 tain agents at Cowes, for the payment of " the Marguerite." 
 Part he had already paid, and this last sum would complete her 
 purchase. In vaiu Mr. Price expostulated, in vain Messrs. 
 Moneypenny threatened, in vain they all called upon Lady Leigh 
 to use her influence. That soft pleading, those gentle entreaties, 
 became as so much oil on the raging flames, and he made no 
 other answer than an order for his servant to pack up, and an 
 offer to Miss Clare to escort her to Cowes. 
 
 While Margaret mourned over the one deed. Lady Katherine 
 boiled over the other, and after the most approved manner of 
 courtly fashion, gave her son the benefit thereof. 
 
 It did not lessen the evil feelings filling his heart, that the for- 
 bearing Margaret had every reason to complain, yet said nothing, 
 while the indignant Lady Katherine had in reality nothing on 
 which to found her accusations, yet railed herself into a belief 
 of their truth. 
 
 So, with a stern, haughty composure covering his inward 
 rage, Harold proceeded, for the second time since they were 
 married, to bid his Margaret farewell. One cold kiss he gave 
 her, but a little sting of remorse penetrated his heart as she held 
 up his boy, saying, with her eyes, "At least give him my kisses, 
 for I can take them from him when you leave him." He 
 clasped the boy in his arms, kissed him many times, lovingly 
 and fondly, and caught, as he gave him back to Margaret, that 
 look of love and devotion her eyes knew so well how to express, 
 while a flush of pleasure tinged her pure cheek with more love- 
 liness than usual. All the leave he took of his mother was a 
 haughty bow as he seated himself in the carriage by Miss 
 Clare's side, both of which acts made her bridle up with supreme 
 indignation and disgust. But Margaret caught a last look, as 
 the carriage turned up the avenue, and was comforted. 
 
 Like the Egyptian king, Harold tried to harden his heart the 
 whole journey ; but that loving glance melted down the granite 
 thing whenever he thought of it, and he arrived at Cowes almost 
 in an amiable mood. It even crossed his mind he would write 
 to Margaret. Miss Clare had been amiable, and kind, and 
 rational. Indeed, she always took care not to offend Harold's 
 real feelings of honor and rectitude when quite himself. And 
 therefore, in some measure he may be excused thinking her not 
 60 bad as she was painted to him ; for he never remembered 
 what happened on certain evenings.
 
 192 MARGARET 
 
 She invited him to live at her brother's house, xmtil " the 
 Marguerite " Avas ready, whieh otter lie gladly accepted. And 
 she knew that her welcome there would be much wanner, bring- 
 ing a rich young Baronet with her. For much might be made 
 out of him in various ways ; besides the consequence it would 
 give to have such a guest residing with a falling family, a tar- 
 nished name. 
 
 "The Marguerite" was a very handsome schooner screw 
 yacht, exactly suited for the ocean home of a family, being be- 
 tween two to three hundred tons burden. Harold was soon 
 absorbed in all the bustle and pleasure of fitting her out. He 
 had only two drawbacks to his happiness ; he really Avanted 
 Margaret, and in spite of his anger, felt he could enjoy nothing 
 ■without her. And secondly, Mrs. Bankes was in Cowes, and he 
 stumbled over her at all corners. IShe did not mend his mood 
 by the remarks with which she favored him whenever they met. 
 
 " (So you and Augusta are going off together, are you ? " says 
 she ; " well, I hope you are prepared to leave your characters 
 behind you. People Avill talk, you know, all I can say, and they 
 ■wonder Lady Leigh allows such things. Poor soul ! say I, she 
 cannot help herself, she is tied by the leg. Bless me ! he is 
 gone ; well to be sure, how his eyes Hushed. For my part, 
 spite of Lord Erlscourt, I think tliose Leighs are mad. It 
 would be doing no more than my duty to give Margaret a hint 
 of how matters are going on here. Though it is of no use 
 writing to her, I declare I'll give a hint to that poor little old 
 maid. Miss Leigh ; she will tell her mother directly, though I 
 dare say the old lady opens all her letters first, to see that none 
 are from lovers. No fear of that — lui ! ha! poor old soul! 
 However, I will write ; it is my duty to prevent any evil occur- 
 ring to my dear schoolfellow ; Fred., I know, Avill be quite 
 angry with me if I don't. I hear the}' start lor Jersey to-mor- 
 row, a large party of them. A great shame "Fred, and I wore 
 not asked. I have been wishing to go that identical trip lor so 
 long, and I am a more ])rn])er chaperon for Augusta than her 
 gay sister-in-law. In fact, 1 don't think any of tlie party lune 
 much to boast of, in the way of discreetness ; and now I think 
 of it, I feel sure my dear Fred, would not like to see me mixed 
 up with such a questionaI;le lot. And I shall tell Miss Leigh 
 that is the reason I did not accompany them, otherwise my feel- 
 ings for my dear Margaret would have made me sacriiicc every- 
 thing to oblige her " 
 
 Mrs. Baukcs's soliloquies never ended, apparently.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XL Y III. 
 
 Margaket was writing to her Harold ; forgetful of his late 
 unkiudness, regardless of his cold farewell, unmindful of his 
 injustice, she was pouring out her heart's warmest, best feeling 
 to assuage the grief he must feel on hearing a bitter piece of 
 news. Price had absconded with all that was left of the half- 
 year's rents, and with whatever other matters of value he could 
 lay his hands upon. 
 
 Sir Harold's absence had enabled him to mature his plans. 
 He went from his house to Liverpool with the ostensible purpose 
 of placing the rents in Messrs. Moneypenny's hands, but had 
 taken advantage of a vessel going straight to the gold-diggings, 
 and had been gone four days ere the fact was discovered. 
 
 " My Harold, let me come to yon," wrote the fond wife. " It 
 will, indeed, be as well for us to leave home for a year, that Ave 
 may at once put an end to the drain of our large establishment ; 
 "we can no longer contend, love, against the tide of our ill-for- 
 tune. But let us face the evil calmly, for it is not hopeless. 
 Messrs. Moneypenny have been here. They are willing, nay, 
 most anxious, to accommodate us in every way. They Avill, 
 with your permission, appoint a trustworthy agent of their own, 
 who will manage the estates with zeal and care. They promise 
 to proceed with the repairs, appropriating a third of the rents 
 for that purpose. They Avill reserve another third for them- 
 selves, to pay off the incumbrance due to them, and give us the 
 last portion on Avhich to live : surely, dear Harold, Ave can live 
 in luxury and content upon two thousand three hundred and 
 thirty pounds a year, and cA^en less " 
 
 She had reached this point of the letter, her lovely face beam- 
 ing with the thought that with him half that sum would be suf- 
 ficient for her, Avhen the door opened. Mr. Herbert entered ; 
 his usually calm and thoughtful face Avas flushed and agitated, 
 while a solemn pity beamed from his eyes. Clasping the hand 
 she held out to him, he breathed a Ioav prayer for strength and 
 fortitude, "that he might tell, and she might hear, Avhat God 
 had appointed them." 
 
 " My Harold ! " exclaimed Margaret. 
 
 He boAved in assent. 
 
 "Not dead?" she Avhispered, in a tone that seemed to Gerald 
 like the sigh of some moui-nful imprisoned spirit. 
 
 17
 
 194 MARGARET 
 
 " 'Twcre better had he been taken from ns," he answered. 
 
 A loAv, deep sigh, half a sob, escaped from Margaret ; she 
 was relieved from the worst fear. 
 
 " I am ready ; tell me." 
 
 " He has gone — he has fled from England, he has left every 
 duty, every tie ; for, Lady Leigh, he is not alone." 
 
 " It is a mistake," answered Margaret, calmly. 
 
 "I fear not," said Gerald, mournfully. ''Lady Katherine 
 knows more than we do ; she has had letters to confirm Avhat is 
 now in the newspaper. It was she bade me come to you ; it 
 was at her wisli " 
 
 " The paper?" asked Margaret, still and calm as stone, hold- 
 ing her hand out for it. 
 
 Awed by her manner, he gave it to her. Scarcely disguising 
 names, in broad hints, and pointed allusions, with vulgar re- 
 marks and family facts, lay exposed to Margaret's swimming 
 vision, an implied elopement of Sir Harold Leigh and !Miss 
 Clare. The yacht " Marguerite," family embarrassments, defal- 
 cation of agent, private affairs, misunderstandings and quan'els, 
 a mixture of slight truth and monstrous falsehood, burned them- 
 selves, like letters of fire, into Margaret's heart. That name, 
 her Harold's name, to be thus blasted — that character, her 
 Harold's fine, frank character, to be thus vilified — she drew 
 herself up to her full height, she turned upon Gerald her glow- 
 ing face, radiant with a noble purity, Avhile from her eyes 
 beamed an indignation so virtuous and exalted, he bent his stern 
 soul before it. 
 
 The beauty of mercy, the depth of holy pity, the wonderful 
 Strengtli of compassionate love, rose before his mental vision. 
 He stood humble and abashed at his rigid sternness, his cold 
 judgment of a fellow-mortal. He felt like the servant who owed 
 his Lord ten thousand talents, and Avas frankly forgiven that 
 enormous debt. Yet Avas he not exacting the hundred pence 
 from a weak, erring felloAV-servant ? 
 
 " Forgi\c me ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 '■'■ Thank y<JM, (ierald," answered JMargaret ; "' now you must 
 help me to clear my Harold's name." 
 
 " C'ouuuand me. Let me go to Cowes ; intrust me with the 
 discovery of the author of such slanders." 
 
 *■' I will go with you ; yes, Gerald, who so proper to greet the 
 eye.s of one injured in so tender a point as his wife? On landing, 
 Hai-()1(1 nii'^ht hear some odious wliis])er ; lie will raise his eyes 
 
 in indignalion, and behold his Margaret, and then " She 
 
 paused.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 195 
 
 Gerald looked tip, a deadly paleness overspread the late glow- 
 ing features ; a pang of mortal agony and pain sent the blood 
 shuddering through her frame. He caught her as she faltered. 
 
 It might be that the many fears and trials of the past few 
 months had weakened her, it might be the one sudden shock, 
 which, on a frame so sensitive, affected body and mind alike. 
 As her agony passed away and her color returned, she said, 
 " Give me my letter — I must write, write instead ; ring for my 
 maid, Gerald." She wrote rapidly, adding a few fond, loving 
 sentences to her former letter. 
 
 "Now go, Gerald, take my Harold this letter ; tell him the 
 cause that prevents me being Avith you, and in my coming hour 
 of peril, O, Gerald, remember, no pang of bodily anguish that 
 I shall endure, will equal the mental pain I suffer until my 
 Harold's name is cleared ! " 
 
 " God do so to me, and more also, if I wrong him again," said 
 Gerald. " I will now go and undeceive Lady Katherine." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks," she could say no more. In the bustle and 
 confusion always consequent upon an event occurring unexpect- 
 edly, many necessary and proper precautions were forgotten ; 
 or pei'haps Margaret's constitution was really weakened by her 
 late trials. But from whatever cause, Lotty's little goddaughter 
 was born in such an hour of pain and danger, that the poor 
 mother heard not her first cries ; she lay for many hours, wholly 
 unconscious, her spirit hovering between life and death. 
 
 Gerald had failed to convince Lady Katherine, who, after 
 writing to her son, had established herself by Margaret's uncon- 
 scious side, while he proceeded to Cowes. 
 
 CHAPTER XL IX. 
 
 Lady Katherine had, at first, sat down stunned, as it were, 
 with the fulfilment of her fears. Then she awoke to the fact 
 that she must act in a becoming and proper manner for the oc- 
 casion. She called to mind all the occasions in Avhich the 
 blessed Queen Charlotte had been placed in somewhat similar 
 circumstances, through the unbridled habits of her own princely 
 sons. 
 
 Ever anxious to act, on all occasions, after the manner of her
 
 196 MARGARET 
 
 ausriist example, if it unhappily fell out she "was to do so under 
 such painful circumstances, still she would do it. Her sou had 
 disirraced the name of Leiirh — he Avas her son no longer. He 
 had outraged every feeling of love and duty to both his Avife and 
 herself; therefore he must be considered as dead to both of them 
 imtil 
 
 Here Lady Katherine paused. An idea shot through the ob- 
 tuseness of her mind that Harold Avas her son after all — her 
 only son. Her life -would be almost, if not quite a blank Avithout 
 him. Xi'vortheless, the world Avould expect her to act in a be- 
 coming manner ; at least she must show she had not had the ad- 
 vantage of a great and high example Avithout being able to profit 
 thert'bv. So, in srand and ma^inauimous laniruai;e, she indited 
 a letter to her son. Slie painted in high colors the crimes of 
 Avhich she presumed him guilty ; she forbade. him her sight, until 
 time, remorse, and proper feelings should urge him to seek her 
 forgiAcness. She should interdict his name, hitherto so beloA'cd, 
 now so stained, being mentioned to her. 8he darkly hinted at 
 his Avife's horror and indignation leading to separation, perhaps 
 divorce ; and, Avinding up Avith an heroic finale, she commended 
 him to the poAvers of an outraged Heaven. 
 
 Lady Katherine read her letter over to herself, in pleasing 
 api)robatiou of the pith and force of her Avords, and then sealing 
 and sending it, slie ])roceeded to give Gerald tlio audience he Avas 
 craving, receiving him Avith the air of a Koniau motlier, and the 
 dignity proper for the late bedchambei'-Avoman of good Queen 
 Charhjtte to show. 
 
 Mr. Herbert ibund it A"aiu to reason Avith her. He thought it 
 best to proceed at once to Cowes, and act as he knew Margaret 
 Avuuld Avish. So sending Lady Katherine to her daughter's bed- 
 side, tliaiiking God for tlie mercy tliat liad opened his heart, and 
 freed him i'roin a crime such as Lady Katheriue's ap2)eared now 
 to him, he took leaA'e of his Milly, and departed. 
 
 At Cowes lie found Basil, already Avorking zealously in the 
 same cause. To no one could they exactly trace the origin of 
 tlie rumor. Some said the character of the Clares Avarranted it ; 
 otiiers, it seemed strange that Sir Harold should have left his 
 Avife and consorted w ifh such people ; Avhile one and all declared, 
 upon tiieir honor, they had never spread such reports. Loudest 
 among these Avas IMrs. liaukes ; aud Avhile the good Gerald took 
 her at her word, the more worl{ll>'-wise Basil alarmed her so 
 nuieh with his hints and remarks regardini:; llie punishment due 
 to the authors of such slanders, that she packed up her things and
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 197 
 
 left Co-\ves forthwith. Her fears got the better of her curiosity ; 
 dying, as she was, with anxiety to witness tlie denouement of 
 the alFair, she persuaded her dear Fred, that they should glean 
 much better accounts from the papers, and that, at all events, it 
 was desirable they should avoid getting dragged into the mess. 
 .To this " dear Fred." readily agreed. 
 
 Meantime, at the back of the island, in a snug little bay, was 
 the object of all their hopes, thoughts, and wishes. " The Mar- 
 guerite" had returned from her cruise in the Channel Islands, 
 and to please Miss Clare and her companions, perhaps also him- 
 self, Harold had consented to coast round the island ere they 
 finally landed. 
 
 The effect of the short voyage he had taken riveted in Harold's 
 heart the chains of " the Marguerite " over him. But the con- 
 stant intercourse such close companionship as a vessel brought 
 him into with his present guests Avas a counterbalance. 
 
 Exquisite was the sensation of gliding over tlie fair but solemn 
 sea, holding in its vast green bosom such hoards of mysteries, 
 such countless lives, such boundless riches, and sucli mighty 
 powers ! But the light laughter of an uncongenial spirit jarred 
 upon Harold's nerves. His gay companions thought this object 
 of his love and veneration was merely the sea, who might prove 
 very disagreeable and make them feel ill, and look so. Now, 
 with Margaret, this would be different. 
 
 In the night time, Avhen he gazed on the stars, looking down, 
 as it were, on a firmament as clear as their own, wliat answer 
 could he get from one of his companions to the solemn thoughts 
 arising Avithin him ? The rattle of the dice-box below in the 
 cabin, the wild song, the hasty language, were all he could hope 
 for. With Margaret he mifjht have interchan2;ed thous'hts that 
 Avould have draAvn them still closer together. So, Avith all his 
 late feelings softening toAA'ards her, he Avould pace the deck half 
 the night, and think of nothing but his Margaret. An irresist- 
 ible impulse induced him to Avrite to her, and post the letter at 
 Jersey. 
 
 After giving her an account of his journey, Avhom he had with 
 him, Avhat they intended doing, he Avound up thus : — 
 
 " And noAv, sweet Meg, take those kisses from your boy. 
 They are yours, and yours only. Forgive your Avayward Harold. 
 Remember that one such look as you gaA-e me, Avhen Ave parted, 
 revenges you Avell. I see in the stars now above me, tAvo such 
 angel lights that seem to tell me Avhat a brute I am. And up 
 from the bosom of the sea come liquid soft glances, saying, 
 17* .
 
 108 MARGARET 
 
 ' Cruel Harold ! ' 'Tis in vain that I close my eyes, trying to 
 shut out the remembrance of your last look. It haunts me, 
 sweet wife ; may it do so ever ! Then, mIipu I return homo, 
 Queen Margaret shall say she has no more loving subject than 
 her IIakold." 
 
 I\Iargarct had been ill and insensible three days -when thia 
 letter arrived at Court Leiirh. 
 
 So Harold returned to the Isle of Wight in a softened and 
 kind mood ; aud though he might have felt anxious to return 
 home, he put into Newtown late one evening, with the full deter- 
 mination of taking his guests all round the coast, as he had 
 promised. But he sent his servant over to Cowes for his letters, 
 Avitli orders to be Avith him as early as possible in the morning. 
 Tlie man brought but one, and, within half an liour of receiving 
 it, Sir Harold sent orders to his captain to make all sail. 
 
 " "Where to?" demanded the captain. 
 
 The steward went down to inquire, but came up again in 
 doul)le-quick time. 
 
 " Where you like," he muttered, " so it's aAvay from this 
 cursed island ; and I am not sure if lie did not say ' to the 
 devil ! ' " 
 
 " Wliy, Avhat's the matter?" asked the captain. 
 
 "It will be that letter he got; he is in a rare tantrum, and 
 there's not a bit of the letter left as big as the tip of my finger," 
 
 " AVell, the hotter the passion, the sooner it is over ; so I'll 
 obey orders to weigh, aud get av.ay from the island". May be, by 
 six bells lie will know his own mind." 
 
 Sir Harold's guests Avere much surprised to find on rising (hat 
 they were many miles from land, and that he did not appear out 
 of his cal)in ; but as they were nothing loth for a longer voyage, 
 the two facts concerned them very little. 
 
 Meantime a rumor reached Cowes that " the ]\rarguerite" had 
 put info Newtown. Basil and Gerald posted off there wilhout a 
 nioment's delay. They arrived in time to sec " the Marguerite" 
 just disaj)pearing on the horizon. 
 
 '' Let us haste back," said Basil ; " ' the Ripple ' is ready for 
 sea, Ave uuiy hope to overtake hci." 
 
 " The screAV yaejit," said a sailor, on hearing him, " has very 
 little coal on board ; she can't go far." 
 
 " HoAv do y(ju knoAv?" asked Gerald. 
 
 " Some of th(! crcAV Avere asliore last niglit, and s.iid as how 
 they meant only to coast round the island ; they look in fresh 
 stores lor a day or two."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 199 
 
 No time was lost ; Gerald outdid Basil in his exertions ; and by- 
 noon they were well out to sea. 
 
 " We are going to have a dirty night of it," said the captain 
 of the " Ripple " to Basil. 
 
 " Care for nought, so you overtake ' the Marguerite,' " was 
 
 the reply. 
 
 " What course was she taking? for Ave might miss her in the 
 night." 
 
 ''What! cannot we come up with her before night?" ex- 
 claimed Gerald. 
 
 " She had six hours' start, sir, and Ave have not sighted her 
 yet. If you could tell me Avhither she Avas bound, I might be 
 able to form a judgment." 
 
 " That I cannot tell ; she seemed to haA'e gone off suddenly, 
 Avithout a purpose, making for the coast of Holland." 
 
 " If the Avind keeps on this tack, and she is short of coal, she 
 must about-ship. No sea-going captain Avill trust his craft, in 
 dirty Aveather, too near the coast of Holland. The shoals there 
 soon SAvalloAV their prey." 
 
 " Do you knoAv any thing of the captain of ' the Margue- 
 rite?'" 
 
 " Nothing, my lord ; he Avas just taken at a venture. Sir 
 Harold Avas in such a hurry to be oiF." 
 
 " I cannot tliiuk," said Basil, pacing uneasily up and down his 
 little deck, " Avhat caused Harold to go again in such a hurry. 
 Could he have heard any of the rumors at NeAvtoAAii? It is just 
 like him to take the pet, and go off again in a tangent." 
 
 "Ha!" said Gerald, "a thought strikes me — his mother 
 wrote to him ; I remember she boasted to me of having done so. 
 He has received it, and here, here is the panacea for all he might 
 feel, noAV in my possession. Not an hour of the time since it 
 Avas giA^en me have I failed to feel that it was safe, ready to put 
 into Harold's hand the moment I saAv him." 
 
 " Your conjecture must be right," ansAvered Basil; "he has 
 received his motlicr's letter, and none from Margaret. Poor 
 Harold ! " 
 
 "We pursue at CA'ery risk?" demanded Gerald. 
 " Yes," responded Basil ; " one hundred pounds shall be 
 divided among you the hour I board ' the Marguerite,' " con- 
 tinued he, turning to his crew. 
 
 " Ay, ay, my lord," they ansAA^cred ; " Ave'll Avork Avith a Avill." 
 
 LoAV and gloomy clouds gathered themselves in large masses, 
 
 rolling and unfolding under the veiy rays of the setting sun. A
 
 200 MARGARET 
 
 hollow wind seemed to sweep over the sea, whistling shrill as it 
 caught the light spars of " the Ripple " in its grasp, or sent the 
 crests of the waves in briny showers over the anxious watchers. 
 
 A deep and miglity spirit seemed moving the ocean, whose 
 bosom swelled so high ; the little, light vessel was now borne ou 
 some great billow, and again sunk deep in a valley of waters. 
 
 " I am glad I left my boys at home," said Basil to himself. 
 
 " God love my Milliccnt ! " was Gerald's prayer. 
 
 C 11 A P T E R L . 
 
 PiifLiP Leigh took Lotty to Paris at first. And if he had 
 purposely wished to make the affectionate and anxious Beauvil- 
 liaus know that '' their girl " Avas happy, he could not ha\e taken 
 a better course. 
 
 Lotty was delighted. The beauty of the public buildings, the 
 fresh, clear air, free from all smoke, the clean and new appear- 
 ance of every thing, charmed her correct eye and good taste. 
 
 With a mind so constituted, that she found food and amuse- 
 ment for it in the smallest daisy, the lightest cloud, the nnn-ow- 
 est space ; it was not to be wondered at that Lotty drank in 
 largely, with keen enjoyment, the sights and sounds with which 
 she was now surrounded. 
 
 Had Philip's mind been in a less morbid condition, it must 
 have been both charmed and elevated by thus associating with 
 one so fresh and intelligent. 
 
 The unerring judgment with wliicli she fixed at once upon the 
 most correct building, the Jinest pictures, and the most bL'autil'ul 
 statues, Avhile it riveted the chains of admiration Philip felt for 
 her, awoke no happier or more genial mood in his breast. 
 
 She was not to be happy but througli liim ; she was to see 
 with his eyes, hear with his ears, sjjcak with his mouth. And 
 yet he acknowledged to himself that it Avas her free, independent 
 mind; her noble, truthful heart; her IVank, ha])])y (enipcr, that 
 made her so adorable to him. And how was he to make two 
 Buch incongruities meet? 
 
 He would try a new ])lan. 
 
 "Why do you go so often to see that one picture?" said he, 
 one day, to Lotty, as he found her in her usual place before the 
 "Assumption of the ^'irgin Mary."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 201 
 
 " It does me good to look at that face, Philip," she answered. 
 
 " I do not see any thing very particular about it in point of 
 beauty. The faces of the children seem to me more lovely." 
 
 " But it is the expf-ession, Philip, so pure, so devoted, so self- 
 forijotten. It is so like Marraret." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Philip, " I thought you had a reason for such 
 admiration of this picture. Lotty ! ^ye leave Paris to-morrow." 
 
 "Very well, Philip." 
 
 Once, when a youngpr man, Philip had resided for some 
 months in an old chateau ia the forest of Ardennes ; partly that 
 he might, unmolested, study the French language, and partly that 
 he might have the roLixation of some species of sport. Tlie 
 chateau was old, gloomy, and damp, in the heart of the forest. 
 A farmer and his wife, with one servant, lived in it Avheu Philip 
 was there. If the same people inhabited it now, Philip could 
 have no reason to doubt that Lotty would find any society so 
 congenial to her as his own. Surely, in lonely solitude, nothing 
 could come between him and her love. 
 
 He took the chateau for the three autumn months ; and Lotty 
 went at once from the fair city of Paris, with its palaces, and 
 countless luxuries, to a tumble-down, old chateau, that smelt 
 of mouldy cheese, and fusty mice. 
 
 No one dwelt within three leagues of the place. So Philip 
 set himself steadily to watch for a change in that cheerful 
 spirit. 
 
 A week passed. 
 
 " O Philip ! " said she at the end of it, " you must come Avith 
 me to-day, that I may show you the most magnificent Spanish 
 chestnut-tree I ever beheld. Bear and I discovered it this 
 morning, and we gathered chestnuts by the thousand. Do you 
 know, Philip, old Aimee makes bread of these chestnuts. She 
 is going to teach me to do it some day." 
 
 " I thought that sour old dame spoke to no one," said Philip. 
 
 " She is not at all sour, Philip ; she is very kind to me. I 
 have been helping every morning to milk those poor, miserable, 
 old cows ; and I have enjoyed giving an account of ours. Ah ! 
 Philip, she was so infinitely amusing in her wonder." 
 
 " How do you make her understand you? She has the most 
 outrageous 'patois I ever heard." 
 
 " I put a great quantity of Gloucester dialect into my French, 
 and we get on wonderfully." 
 
 They Avent to see the great chestnut-tree. 
 
 " What an age it must be, Philip ; I should like to take some
 
 202 MARGARET 
 
 of the young ones, sprouting about lierc, home. I think an 
 avenue of Spanish chestnuts Avould be beautiful. Don't you, 
 Bear?" 
 
 Bear agreeing, they both set olf for a race, and her sweet 
 laughter rang through the forest. At the end of another Aveek 
 Lotty was very full of business. 
 
 "That old Gerard is getting in his harvest, and wants the 
 girl, so I am going to cook the dinner and act maid ; and you 
 must not scold, Philip, or perhaps the new maid Avill turn sulky, 
 and not wait upon you." 
 
 She looked so fresh and pretty, his eyes followed every move- 
 ment, though he said nothing. Clearly there was no taming her 
 this way. Hard as the trial was to him, and bitterly as he pun- 
 ished himself, he determined to plead a sudden recall home, and 
 leave her there by herself. 
 
 Tiiey only received a post once a week. Upon the receipt of 
 the next one he would act upon this thought. He did so. 
 
 " Then," said Lotty, " Bear, you and 1 must go and get the 
 chestnuts up. Do you mind taking tlieui home, Philip?" 
 
 "No, he did not care ; " in fact, at that moment, all he cared 
 for was one look of disturbance or disappointment in her eyes. 
 There was none. 
 
 He went ; and that her eyes looked Avistfully after him he felt 
 certain. The exquisite delight of this thought kept up his 
 spirits for full ten days. Not that he went to England, or 
 intended to do so — he Avas but at the post-town contiguous to 
 the old chateau. 
 
 In about a fortnight he became painfully anxious to see that 
 bright face again ; not that he expected it to look bright — he 
 hoped it would be pale and sad, and only brighten when it saw 
 him. But it was ratjier too soon as yet ; so he went to Paris, 
 for a few days, to consult a doctor al)Out his heart, wliich he 
 again felt uucomfortablc. 
 
 During that time he learned not only from tlie English papers, 
 but IVom home, the sad history of Court Leigh. 
 
 His first thought was, how glad he felt that he had taken 
 Lotty I'rom home before Lady Leigh's illness. She would have 
 thought him a brute to have refused her kind cares and consola- 
 tions at such a time. 
 
 His second tliought took tlie Inrm of a species of pleasure, 
 that Lady Leigh should be thus hurt in the tenderest point. He 
 had long owed her a grudge for her insensibility to his atti*ac- 
 tioDS. Now he was revenged.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 203 
 
 His third thought dwelt upon his cousin. If he had been a 
 fool (which was all the blame he attached to such crimes), it 
 was nothing to him, Philip Leigh. It only gave him a greater 
 probability of succeeding to the title he had so long coveted. 
 
 So, with all the letters and papers in his pockets to show 
 Lotty, he retraced his steps to the old chateau, the agitation of 
 his heart increasing the nearer he approached. 
 
 A double dose of the soothing tincture prescribed by his Paris 
 doctor was necessary to calm his agitation. As he drove into 
 the old court, no one appeared to welcome him ; he had half 
 fondly fancied such might be the case. He left the carriage 
 with his hand on his side. Though unlocked, the house was 
 empty. No farmer, no Aimee, no servants. It was well for 
 his nerves that he recollected, probably at this time of the year 
 they Avere all out in the fields, and it Avas clearly his own fault 
 giving them no timely notice of his coming. 
 
 Bidding the driver put up his horses as best he could, and 
 promising him some refreshment, he passed on to the rooms he 
 inhabited with Lotty. All scrupulously neat and clean, but 
 cold and bare ; no fires, no sign of them, nothing lying about, 
 as if she had been lately there. For a moment his heax't stopped 
 beating. Had she gone ? Had the solitude proved too much 
 for that happy congenial spirit, which loved to bask itself in the 
 hearts of kindred and people ? He lay still and quiet for a few 
 moments to recover himself, and then passed on to her bed-room. 
 He leaned for support against the door, as he saw a little dress 
 hanging on the back of a chair, with many other signs of her 
 presence ; the windows wide open, letting in the cool autumn 
 breeze, with the early dead leaves rustling in with it. Lotty 
 herself spoke, in all the neat arrangements of the room. lu a 
 small antechamber beyond there were even later marks of her 
 having been there. 
 
 A letter was on her desk, unsealed, directed to her brother 
 Norman ; some blocks of wood were lying about, with chips and 
 shavings, two penknives, and a file ; and on the table was a 
 half-finished, but most si^irited likeness of Bear, carved in wood. 
 Rejoiced as he was to be certified that she must have been there 
 that morning, he would have been glad to see disorder, the un- 
 mistakable mark of neglect and indifierence. 
 
 She Avas not idle either. Philip gazed Avith admiration on 
 various rough draAvings, representing diflferent things, and from 
 Avhich he now perceived carvings Avere being made in soft Avood, 
 in different stages of completion, but all beautiful and true to
 
 204 , MARGAEET. 
 
 nature. His heart being at ease from its first fear, and think- 
 iug, from Lotty's habits, she was sure to be in the fiekls with 
 the people of the house, he proceeded to ransack the cupboards 
 for food, both for himself and the man. 
 
 Xothiug could he find but part of a loaf of black barley 
 bread. 
 
 There was nothing to do but to go in search of some one. 
 He soon found the people, but Lotty was not with them — she 
 had gone, as they supposed, to the great chestuut-tree with Bear. 
 He took his way slowly to the place. As he neared it, he went 
 with a litrhter stop — he Avished to see her before she caught 
 sight of him. His heart thrilled with a strange sensation, and 
 he stopped to calm it. He heard her low, sweet voice, singing 
 the solt murmuring song he had never heard from her since she 
 liad sat on the arm of lu-r father's chair. 
 
 AVhon he could look, the little fairy thing was on her knees 
 piling up a fagot of sticks, wdiich she broke and placed deftly 
 on the heap belbre her. And as she sang, she heaped some dry 
 leaves out of her lap on to the Avhole ; tlicn lighting the pile, she 
 put stick after stick on to the burning mass, until she had a 
 bright fire before her, and it crackled, blazed, and sputtered, to 
 the sweet song ringing from her heart. 
 
 Presently the fire seemed in the proper state for her fancy, 
 and she spread about the hot ashes, putting in handfuls of chest- 
 nuts. Tlieu she called aloud, " Bear ! Bear ! where are you, 
 idle fellow?" And shortly Bear made his appearance with a 
 rabbit in his mouth. 
 
 "■ Now, Bear, give it to me. Bear is a gentleman — he does 
 not eat raw meat like a wolf, but waits until Lotty cooks liis 
 dinner. Well, what is it, my Bear, Avluit disturbs you? some- 
 body coming? No one that will hurt us, I know. What, still 
 uneasy; has Philip come? "Well! then, let us welcome him." 
 So she left her fire and occupation, and came to where I'hilip 
 was standing. 
 
 " How do you do, Philip? how aj-e all at home? " 
 
 He drew her towards him, with a strange, sad feeling in his 
 heart, that expressed itself in his fiice. 
 
 "Are you ill, Philip?" And her eyes looked up anxiously 
 into his. 
 
 " No, Lotty ; T was afraid I mi,Lrht have found you but didl 
 and mdanclioly, leaving you so long alone." 
 
 •• I )iill ? O ! no, Philip, do not think thus ; we don't know what 
 it is to be dull."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDg. 205 
 
 " But what are you doing here with that fire, and Avhy do you 
 permit Bear to destroy the game ? " 
 
 " It is his dinner, Philip — he has nothing else to live upon." 
 
 " I always thought he had the same as you liave." 
 
 " Yes, in general ; but he cannot eat chestnuts." 
 
 " Child, do you mean that you dine on chestnuts ? — is that 
 your dinner preparing now ? '^ 
 
 " Yes, Philip ; you left us no money." 
 
 " My Lotty, my poor Lotty ! — but why did you not order 
 what you wanted? Would these rascally people not trust 
 you?" 
 
 " O, yes, I might have had what I liked ; but do not vex 
 yourself, Philip ; I never was better, and I have really not felt a 
 single want." 
 
 " But why, why could you be so silly, Lotty? you knew it 
 woidd make me very angry." 
 
 " I did not think you would ever know it, Philip. If you 
 returned " 
 
 "If I returned, Lotty?" 
 
 " Yes, I did not know that you would ; there was nothing that ' 
 I knew of to make you remain with me. You seem to take no 
 pleasure in my society." 
 
 He interrupted her with an exclamation. This to him who 
 felt as if dead when away from her. 
 
 " Well, eat your dinner. I should like to see how you and 
 Bear manage," he gasped out at last. 
 
 " Come, then, and lie down here. You see my chestnuts.are 
 just done, and I break them up into this pot of cream, for I earn 
 this by milking the cows in the morning. Now taste, Philip ; is 
 it not good ? " 
 
 He assented, at the same time adding, " But not for the only 
 dinner one has." 
 
 " But do you know, Philip, people nowadays eat far too 
 much. One thing is quite enough for dinner ; and if you were 
 accustomed to one thing, you would shortly be surprised at ever 
 having given yourself up to such gluttony as two." And she 
 laughed her pretty, hearty laugh, because, as she declared. Bear 
 was looking so cross, that she was caring for Philip, and not 
 him. 
 
 " I always tell Bear he is not to eat his dinner raw, but to 
 bring it to me to be cooked, that he may show he is a gentleman 
 born ; and do you know, Philip, one day he brought me a young 
 pig. I did not know what to do." 
 
 18
 
 206 MARGARET. 
 
 Thug, as she ate her chestnuts and cream, did slie chatter in 
 happy glee sucli as he hud hardly ever seen before in her. Was 
 it to mock him? No, for on arriving at liome, and talking with 
 old Aimcc, he soon discovered enough to know she had been 
 neither dull nor moped. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the old woman, in her patois, " she is a fairy, a 
 cliild-angel ; she is good, she is pretty, she is wise, she is not 
 luuuan, she is not of our natures. All things love her, all grows 
 to her hand. ISlie would not let me buy her food ; uo, she said, 
 the sreat Father gave her her liead and her two hands. Other 
 people Avorked for food, why should not she? and she grows 
 brighter and more lovely each day ; but she will buy for others. 
 Slic makes her fine wooden dogs, and her pretty wooden houses, 
 and I must have one to sell, to buy me my warm jacket, and 
 Gerard must have one to soil, to buy him a new blouse. And 
 Avho is not better for the foiry child? And she reads the Holy 
 Book, and no one can do ill when she is by. Babette is not 
 heedless and pert, Gerard is good and kind, and I think to my- 
 self, ' Aimoe, let not the child-angel see you have cross words on 
 your tongue.' " 
 
 So Philip had absented himself for nothing, nay, rather to find 
 that she was more happy without than with liim ; but all the sor- 
 row he wished her to have felt, all the grief and trouble he meant 
 to find her in, now fell upon her. She Avas broken-hearted for 
 her Margaret. 
 
 Never since the death of her father had he seen her so moAcd. 
 And. if he had not been jealous and angry, that all this sorrow 
 •was for Margaret, and not for him, he must have contrasted the 
 fine, noble energy with Avhicli she vindicated Harold, Avith the 
 cold, sellish thoughts that had tilled his own heart. 
 
 She besought him to let her go to Margaret. " He did not 
 see any need," he said, " in granting her petition. Margaret 
 had sufficient people to console her, Avithout Lotty." 
 
 CHAPTER LT. 
 
 FoTTRTEKX days and nights did the buoyant little " Ripple " 
 contend Avith the boisterous elements. Fourteen days did Basil 
 ami Gerald see rise with hope, and fourteen nights close Avith
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS, 207 
 
 despair. Not once had they caught a glimpse of " the Margue- 
 rite." 
 
 Their own peril had been great. Cruising as near the coast 
 of Holland as they dared, they had been spectators of more than 
 one vessel disappearing in those treacherous sands, without the 
 power to assist. Nothing but the light draught of the " Ripple " 
 saved them : now they were necessitated to turn homewards. 
 They were already on short alloAvance, and had bai'ely enough to 
 last three days. Nothing Avas to be gained by cruising longer, 
 at this period of the year ; the best thing they could do was to 
 return to England, for, if any intelligence was to be had, it would, 
 of course, be known there lirst. 
 
 Reluctantly, but with speed, they returned. It was not until 
 safe in Cowes harbor that their captain gave voice to his fears. 
 
 " I never thought to see Cowes again. If this had not been a 
 wonderful little boat, Ave should none of us have seen this spot 
 again." 
 
 " Have we been in such danger, then? " 
 
 " Never nearer oar last end more than once, my Lord." 
 
 " And ' the Marguerite?' " 
 
 The captain shook his head. 
 
 " How, you do not think she has been in danger? Remember 
 her size." 
 
 " I have been scanning the harbor, my Lord, the last hour, 
 and I can see nothing like her." 
 
 " But did you expect her back in port?" 
 
 *' Ay, my Lord ! if it was but a pet that took Sir Harold off, 
 he Avould have returned ere this, with such a parcel of ladies on 
 board. Remember, it blew a gale eveiy day Ave have been out." 
 
 " 'Tis true, Ave have had shocking Aveather." 
 
 " I did not think to tell you my suspicions, my Lord, until I 
 
 Avas sure she had not returned to harbor, but " He paused. 
 
 " Do you remember the Thursday night Avhen Ave Avere so nearly 
 lost ourselves ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " And the vessel that burned the blue lights so long, ere she 
 finally heeled over, and Avas SAvallowed up? " 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " You Avent beloAv, my Lord, unable to bear the sight. I heard 
 Avomen's shrieks amid the gusts of the Avind and the roar of 
 waters ; you remember, Mr. Herbert, Ave nev^er sighted the ship 
 well, and I told you then she Avas more like the vessel we Avanted 
 than any I had yet seen, as far as I could judge."
 
 208 MARGARET 
 
 " Nay, nay, for Heaven's sake forbear ! in mercy speak no 
 more ! " 
 
 " Well, well, if any of the party are at home, which they ouijht 
 to be by now, or heard of, for few ladies would have staid out 
 this fortnight, all is right." 
 
 "NVith a dread fear knocking at their hearts, they hastened 
 ashore. Not one of all the ill-fated crew of " the Marguerite " 
 had been even heard of since they departed. 
 
 There were letters from Milliceut, and Lady Katherine, Avith 
 the joyful news that JNIargaret was out of danger, and had had a 
 letter from her Harold, dated Jersey. 
 
 Though to Basil and Gerald this gave no great hope, for they 
 knew it must have been written the first trip, yet it seemed to 
 have had all the effect of a healing balm on the fair head so 
 lieavily tried. "While the penitent and self-upbraiding Lady 
 Katlu'rinc Avrote imploring letters for pardon to Harold, and slie 
 besought Gerald's and Lord Erlscourt's kind oflices to obtain it 
 from her injured i^on. 
 
 They did not dare to write in answer. It Avas less pain to 
 leave them still in ignorance, than to dash their confiding hopes 
 with suspicion. 
 
 They returned to the " Ripple." The captain had not been 
 idle either in his inquiries, and his face showed but too cori'ectly 
 how his fears predominated. 
 
 " You see, my Lord, everything tells against our wishes. She 
 had but little coal on board, and it is the worst of those vessels, 
 half one thing, and half another, in cases of emergency, sail and 
 steam are both wanted ; for she is but half-rigged, on account of 
 relying on her screw. Thus, if slie drifted on to the sands, her 
 sails would be of little use to get a craft of tluit size oft' the cur- 
 rent-way, and unless she could use her screw, her fate would be 
 inevitable. A handy, sharp captain would burn everything he 
 could lay hands on to keep her going, even if he gutted the ship ; 
 but I can learn no good tidings of tlie captain of ' the Marguerite.' 
 If he is not a shore-going captain, he is even something worse, 
 (iod might have bcou merciful and spared her ; luit all that 
 Thursday night nothing could hinder me from thinking that the 
 very vessel we were pursuing at the risk of our lives, Avas sinking, 
 almost within hail, into these terrible rpiicksands." 
 
 " Droadlul ! — this is too horrible to think of!" exclaimed 
 Gerald. 
 
 " Something must be done," said Basil. "I cannot live on 
 here witli such a load on my heart, and do nothing. Advise us, 
 captain."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 209 
 
 "Advise, my Lord — what can I say ? Time will only tell the 
 tale." 
 
 " We must return, then, and visit those sand banks ; a trace 
 may be found, a something to show that we must hope no more." 
 
 " We might do that," mused the captain. " We must hire a 
 strong steamer." 
 
 " Agreed," said Basil, eagerly ; "do it to-day." 
 
 " And you, Gerald, will return home ; one ot" us must be on 
 the spot, if — if " 
 
 Uncontrollable emotion overcame them both. 
 
 By night-time Basil was gone in a stout steam-tug, accompa- 
 nied by the captain ; while, at the same time, Gerald took his 
 mournful journey home. 
 
 It was well he had but Millicent to encounter at first. To her 
 he told the history of their perilous and fruitless voyage ; to her 
 he whispered the direful suspicions of the fate of " the Mar- 
 guerite." 
 
 " It will kill them ! — it will kill them both ! " cried the ten- 
 der Millicent, wringing her hands. " O God, avert from my 
 Margaret a blow so heavy ! And Lady Katherine, Gerald ! — 
 when she knows it was her letter — when she feels it was her 
 doing — ah, merciful Heaven, spare us ' — spare us ! " 
 
 It was fortunate that Margaret was still too ill to see Gerald ; 
 nevertheless, as another fortnight passed, and still no tidings, 
 and Lady Katherine and Pru. detailed how ill was Gerald, how 
 altered, and wretched, Mai-garet felt a shock. The suspicion 
 grew strong — he knew more than she did. 
 
 As if by accident, she caused herself to be carried into the 
 room, when he came to make his daily inquiries. One look was 
 sufficient. 
 
 " You know more than you tell us, Gerald : speak ! " 
 
 It was impossible to resist. Life and death seemed depend- 
 ent on the command. He hesitated, faltered, and grew white. 
 
 " Tell her all," said Millicent ; " it must be told soon." 
 
 To Margaret's well-disciplined mind there seemed at once a 
 clew given her to a mystery she could not otherwise clear up. 
 Her heart had mourned cruelly over the fact that Harold must 
 have known how near her hour of danger was, and yet had suf- 
 fered a mouth to elapse without making the slightest inquiry 
 after her. With joyful alacrity she welcomed the dispersion of 
 this most harrowing fact, and forgetting Lady Katherine's pres- 
 ence, said, quickly, "Ah, yes! my Harold was suspected, 
 accused, upbraided : he will not return until fully acquitted." 
 18*
 
 210 MARGARET 
 
 " Marprarct, Margaret, iipbraid mc not ! " cried the poor 
 mother. " I have k>st my son — my only son, Harold ! " 
 
 '• What said you in the letter, mother?" asked Margaret. 
 
 Between sobs and tears Lady Katherine gave them a descrip- 
 tion of its contents. 
 
 INIargarct sighed deeply as the harsh and unnatural sentences 
 smote on her ear. "No wonder — no Avonder that he comes 
 not, for he did not receive mine ! " 
 
 " No," answered Gerald. " I left it at the post-office, Cowes. 
 If I had done that at first, Harold would have received both 
 together." 
 
 " It is fatality," said INIargaret. But Lady Katherine's nerves 
 gave way ; she could bear up no longer against her painful 
 thoughts ; and falling into hysterics, had a practical illustration 
 of the sort of demon that had possessed poor Pru. on her sister's 
 wedding-day. 
 
 Another fortnight passed. Like the pale being of another 
 world, Margaret moved among them. 
 
 One evening Milliccut said to her husband, " A shadow has 
 fallen on the window now for the third time. See ! — it is 
 Basil ! " 
 
 Gerald spnmg out ; for a moment Basil turned away ; then 
 his face revealed the fatal truth ; but he could not find voice to 
 say, — 
 
 " It was even as our captain said ; ' the Marguerite ' perished 
 on that Thursday night, Avithin hail of us, and not a soul on 
 board survived her." 
 
 AVho was to tell the fond wife, the loving Margaret? They 
 sat all three through the night, wondering how it was to be done, 
 and, as the morning dawned, they wondered still. 
 
 " AVc must go to Rose Leigh first," was all that Millicent 
 could advise. " We must not care for the shock it may be to 
 Lady Katherine, for, by that means only, can Ave hope Marga- 
 ret Avill exert herself." 
 
 " You are right, Milly," said her brother. " That SAveet, 
 gentle spirit Avill calm her OAvn sorroAv, nut to add by a single 
 ])ang to one deservedly afllicted." 
 
 Tliey entered the drawing-room at Rose Leigh ; Lady Kathe- 
 rine Avas moving restlessly about, as Avas her habit Avithin the 
 last few Aveeks. Basil laid down before her, Avitliout a Avord, a 
 glove saturated Avith suit Avater, a neekerchief impreguated Avith 
 sand, part of a coat Avith the seaweed yet on it. 
 
 " I found thec-e," he said, sloAvly, " on a sand bank off the
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 211 
 
 coast of Holland, with many other things ; did they belong to 
 your son or no ? " 
 
 With a cry that pierced the air with its agony, Lady Kathe- 
 rine caught up the Avell-known neckerchief; one shriek followed 
 another in quick succession, mixed with piteous cries for her 
 son. A wild and frantic spirit seemed to possess her, and, 
 alarmed for her life or reason, Basil was about to speak. But 
 as he looked up, a vision at the window appalled him. Uncon- 
 scious that she was entering at the window, as he placed the sad 
 mementoes of her drowned Harold before his mother's eyes, he 
 knew not that Margaret saw it all. Lady Katherine's eyes fol- 
 lowed his. 
 
 " He is dead, drowned, and I murdered him ! I, his mother, 
 murdered my son — my only son ! AAvay ! — look not at me ! 
 — touch me not ! " 
 
 The white, stricken vision came swiftly to the frantic mother, 
 and put her arms I'ound her. 
 
 " Mother," said the Ioav, sad voice, " if our Harold is dead he 
 is safe with God." 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 After Philip's determination not to let Lotty go to Margaret, 
 a change came over liis wife. She neither sang nor laughed, 
 and she never voluntarily spoke to him. 
 
 " No matter," thought he, " I will tame her yet." 
 
 When the three months were over, he settled that they should 
 go from town to toAvn, and place to place, until he could fix 
 upon a convenient spot in which to winter. 
 
 The grief of Aimee, Gerard, and Babette was loud and shrill. 
 The angel child was about to leave them ; nothing would pros- 
 per with them again. 
 
 Lotty comforted the old woman as well as she could, and 
 her last v/ords Avere, " We hope to reach the same heaven, 
 Aimee ; Ave may meet there." 
 
 " God and the Holy Virgin grant it ! " said Aimee ; and for 
 fear she should not be worthy to meet the child-angel in heaven, 
 mother Aimee mended her Avays and speech considerably, and 
 gi'CAV a kind-hearted, respected old dame.
 
 212 MARGARET 
 
 Philip, at last, settled that Horaberg should be their winter 
 residence. He had been there before, for a year or two, had 
 indulged in some excitemeut at the gaming tables, and had made 
 a few disreputable acquaiutancL's. 
 
 It Avas lieie Lotty sliould undergo hor last trial, as Philip 
 thought. fShe always wrote once a week to her relations ; Philip 
 liad at first remonstrated upon this, but she said quietly, "• If I 
 don't write, a tribe of Beauvillians will take fliglit after us." 
 
 He felt the truth of this. Once or twice ho had the meanness 
 to read her letters, especially that one he found open on her desk 
 when he returned from his feigned journey to Kugland. He 
 was properly punislied, whenever he did so, by finding his name 
 not even mentioned in them. Nothing but happy, innocent 
 details of her life ; what she and Bear did and saw. 
 
 Philip knew Lotty did not like being shut up in a town, so he 
 took a house in a dirty street ; and knowing that she would not 
 venture out after her early morning walk, he always left her as 
 soon as she came in, to go to the gaming tables, from whence 
 he returned at all hours. 
 
 Lotty never complained. She and Bear seemed to be leading 
 very comfortable lives, l^liilip said he had lost a great deal of 
 nioney, and could not atlord this, that, and the other ; so they 
 dill without, not he at least, for he had all the luxuries he re- 
 quired at the cafes ; only Bear and Lotty were put on such short 
 commons that Philij) found out Lotty spent her hours in draw- 
 ing, and disj)Oscd of them to get food. 
 
 O loving Beauvillians ! if you had but seen your girl, all 
 the milk of human kindness flowuig so generously from your 
 large hearts, would have turned at once into a lake of burning 
 indignation. 
 
 One day at a gaming table Philip's ears were attracted by the 
 conversation of a French count and a (Jermau baron. 
 
 " Always attended by a large bloodhound," were the words he 
 heard. 
 
 " Yes," said the Baron, " and her eyes lustrous arc as stars ; 
 but she is very pttlte — a child." 
 
 " I spoke to her," said the Count, "and as she answered 
 politely to my (incstioii concerning the road, I thought to pursue 
 my a<lvantag(: ; l)iiL when she found my jjurpose, those lustrous 
 eyes fiashed, and she said 'Bar,' and tlie great hound came, his 
 bristles all erect, and his fangs exposed. Mafol! it needed but 
 that cliild's voice, and I sliould have been minced." 
 
 "■ Ha, ha! " said the Baron, '' afraid of the liound ; I should
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 213 
 
 have kicked him, and sent him howling ; but is she not a 
 child?" 
 
 " No, no child ; a queen could not have looked more stately." 
 
 " I shall meet her to-morrow," said the Baron ; " her beauty- 
 is surprising — but such an hour ! I must go straight from here 
 to be early enough." 
 
 Philip went home boiling Avith rage. He poured out his anger 
 and disgust to Lotty, demanding why she had not told him. 
 
 " I cannot lose my early walk, and if it is supposed that I live 
 here with no protector but my dog, is that my fault, Philip ? " 
 
 " It is your fault ; you drive me from you because you will 
 not love me as I wish." 
 
 " Do you try to make me love you, Philip?" 
 
 " If you do not love me," said he, evasively, " you shall fear 
 me. 
 
 " Fear ! " said Lotty, her slight figure drawn up, her lip curl- 
 ing in scorn. 
 
 " Do you dare me?" he said fiercely. 
 
 She did not answei*. 
 
 " Do you mean to say I cannot make you fear me?" 
 
 " I fear but one thing in the world." 
 
 "And Avhat is that?" 
 
 " That I may not do my duty." 
 
 He could not but believe her ; truth spoke in every gesture. 
 At last he said sullenly, " If you Avalk out betAveen four and 
 six in the public and most frequented Avalks, I Avill take care to 
 be there also, either Avith you or near you." 
 
 " Thank you, Philip." 
 
 He meant but to try her still. 
 
 Attended by her dog, she Avent. Philip Avas there before her, 
 talking loudly and gayly to a very handsome FrenchAvoman. 
 Lotty passed quietly on, AA'alking from one shaded Avalk to 
 the other, attracting cA^ery eye, but not seeming to care for it ; 
 Bear, Avith discreet tail and ears, walking in a stately manner 
 by her. 
 
 After her walk, when they reached home, they had a long 
 conference together, and mutually agreed that the change Avas 
 A'ery disagreeable. 
 
 " It is sad. Bear, that Ave are not still in the forest, that Ave 
 may not run about and do as we like, Avithout so many eyes upon 
 us ; still we are not so sad as Queen Margaret. Ah ! if Ave Avere 
 Avith her. Bear, avc should not care for rude eyes and hard fare. 
 We should think of nothing but her. At all events, Bear, you
 
 214 MARCxARET 
 
 agree with me still ; It's better to be poor Lotty and dull Bear 
 than Carry or Flo. So we will write agaiu to sweet Meg, aud 
 comfort ourselves." 
 
 Again Lotty and Bear went out to the public Avalks, as Philip 
 had ordered, at the hour he appointed, aud agaiu he appeared 
 with the handsome Frenchwonuin. 
 
 Lotty aud Bear to-day made the acquaintance of a good old 
 bonne, and her merry children. Bear did a Avouderful amount 
 of tricks to amuse them. 
 
 So that on the tliird day they proceeded to the public walks in 
 rather better si)irits — fhey h()])ed to meet their friends again. 
 The old bonne's face beamed with ])leasure as she saw the little 
 figure with the great Bear appear. She took her for a child, 
 and became so familiar as to say, "Always, mon enfant, come 
 and place yourself under my care — I will be your bonne." 
 
 So Lotty aud Bear enjoyed themselves, riiilip was invari- 
 ably there ; and though Lotty attracted great attention, nothing 
 had occurred to call forth any interference on his part as her 
 natural protector. Besides, since she had placed herself under 
 the surveillance of the good bonne, many people imagined she 
 Avus the proper charge of the Avorthy creature. 
 
 " One day," said the bonne to Lotty, " I overheard, mon en- 
 fant, those two talking, that lady aud the English gentleman. 
 The lady is going to speak to you the first opportunity, and 
 make your acquaintance. Jlfa chere, you must not permit it ; she 
 is not for such as you to speak to. She is Madame La Luce, 
 very Avicked and bad, for all her handsome ai)pearance. That 
 young Englishman is infatuated ; he will be ruined." 
 
 Tlie good bonne little imagined she was speaking to the wife 
 of the doomed Englishman. 
 
 After her warning, Lotty became aAvare that Philip Avas trying 
 to meet her, in one of the Avalks by herself, for the purpose of 
 speaking to her ; Madame La J^uce being Avith him. 
 
 She avoided the rencontre Avith such skill, that at last Philip 
 eitlier grcAv impatient, or the lady taunted him, for he advanced 
 to Lotty alone one evening, Avhen she Avas Avalking Avith the 
 good bonne. 
 
 " Lotty, I Avish you to come Avith me." 
 
 " For Aviiat ])urpose, I'liilip?" 
 
 " I Avish to inlruiUice you to a lady, a friend of mine. She is 
 in the next Avalk." 
 
 " You must excuse me, I do not wish the introduction." 
 
 "I command it," said Philip, passionately.
 
 AND HER BRroESMAIDS. 215 
 
 "And I disobey," said Lotty. 
 
 She passed on with the old bonne, leaving him in a whirlwind 
 of emotion. 
 
 Did she know whom Madame La Luce was ? Could she be 
 jealous? If so, his purpose was accomplished; his last trial 
 successful. He trod on air at the thought. 
 
 "Jioji enfant, the Englishman knows you," said the bonne. 
 
 " Yes," said Lotty. 
 
 " Your brother, ma chere 9 " 
 
 *' No, my husband." 
 
 " 0, mon Dieu ! 0, misericorde ! 0, mon enfant ! jamais. 
 JETelas ! jamais. Jamais je ne Vaurai cru. Ah! Mary, mother 
 of God, this child, this petite, cliarmante enfant ! A.h ! ma 
 chere, mon ange, que je suis miserable I " 
 
 Lotty tried to bring her old friend to some little reason ; but 
 as there was no possibility of getting her out of her state of sur- 
 prise and consternation, she returned home. 
 
 Lotty had not been there long before the waiters from a res- 
 taurateur's came to the house, and prepared to lay dinner for 
 three. In a little while a. fiacre drove to the door, from whence 
 Philip handed Madame La Luce. 
 
 Lotty was sitting in a sort of child's attitude in a large, old, 
 carved chair, her curls in an unusually disordered state ; but so 
 pictviresquely did they fall, that notliing could exceed the pretti- 
 ness of the picture. She had been having a serious conversation 
 with Bear, and perhaps, in the heat of the argument, if they had 
 arrived at one, Lotty had resorted to the Beauvillian habit of 
 running her finirers throuo-h her hair. Bear's fine head was 
 resting on the arm of the chair, and his loving eyes Avere saying 
 all sorts of things to his little mistress. The door opened, and 
 Philip led in Madame La Luce. 
 
 " Lotty, I M'ish to introduce you to Madame La Luce. 
 Madame, my wife, Mrs. Leigh." 
 
 Lotty looked up, and Madame made an elaborate courtesy. 
 She was about to speak, when Philip said quickly, — 
 
 "Lotty, do you not hear? — greet your visitor; she dines 
 with us to-day." 
 
 Lotty rose from the chair, and, without taking the smallest 
 notice of either of them, called to Bear, and left the room with 
 him. 
 
 Philip looked in her face as she passed. There was no look 
 of jealous anger, no passion, no feeling — nothing but an expres- 
 sion of calm contempt.
 
 216 MARGARET 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " cried Madame La Lnoe, "U'ith the hissing tone of 
 a Avomaa iii a rage ; " is this jour baby -wile ? hcin ; but Ave are 
 the tragedy queeu ! Small indeed ! but a soul, ha ! ha ! a soul 
 60 large, Monsieur Philip, so big, you cannot have control of 
 that soul. He have baby -wile, but she cry loudest." 
 
 Madame La Lticc avouUI have continued darting forth her 
 fiery stings at Philip, had she not seen that he was white with 
 passion. 
 
 " I will make her return," he said ; " remain, Madame — she 
 shall return and apologize." 
 
 As Philip bounded up the stairs to his Avife's room, he had no 
 feeling in his heart but that she should obey him. As he entered 
 the room, Lotty was putting on her walking-dress. 
 
 " Where are you going? " 
 
 " Away," said Lotty. 
 
 " You shall not ! " and he grasped her arm. 
 
 " Bear ! " said Lotty. The noble hound sprung to her side ; 
 and as Philip relaxed his hold, he knew by the fiery eyes and 
 swift, brusliing tail, Bear was in no mood to be trifled with. 
 
 " How can you be so foolish, Lotty? I l)ring a lady to make 
 your acquaintance, and you conduct yourself in this manner ! " 
 
 " She is not the person a husband usually introduces to a 
 wife." 
 
 " You are jealous, Lotty." 
 
 Ah ! if she would but allow it, he would lay himself at her 
 feet for forgiveness, and be licr slave forcAcr. 
 
 She did not answer ; she only looked at him. It was enough : 
 never did look express such contempt at the supposition. 
 
 " How know you she is the pr-rson you mean?" 
 
 " If you can deny it, I am willing to believe you." 
 
 He did not dare to do so ; she looked so pure and childlike in 
 her reproving Avay. 
 
 " Come, Lotty, she shall go if you do not like her ; forget 
 this, and I will send her away." 
 
 " A Beauvilliers will submit to everything but insult. You 
 have insulted me, both as a wife and a woman. I have borne 
 everything else, and dune my duty to you as fully as you per- 
 mitted me. Now I am free. Farewell, Philip Leigh ! I go to 
 my own people. Once more I am Charlotte Beauvilliers." 
 
 Sin- did not mean to triuuij)h ; she ilid not intend to hurt his 
 feelings ; but there Avas such an unconscious deliglit as she spoke 
 of going to her people, such an air of charmed freedom as 
 she uttered her maiden name, that Philip Leigh fell to the
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 217 
 
 ground, smitten, crushed, with the conviction in his heart slie 
 was lost to him forever — and that it was the work of his own 
 hands. 
 
 She glanced at him as he lay gasping on the floor. 
 
 "Bear, be good — Philip is ill." 
 
 Bear laid down by Philip's side on the floor, his watchful, ex- 
 cited air giving place to a calm, steadfast gaze on Lotty. She 
 raised Philip's head, his eyes Avere closed ; she could see the 
 violent beatings of his heart, as it heaved the coat up and down. 
 His struggles for breath Avere fearful. 
 
 " Ringlhe bell. Bear." 
 
 The obedient dog obeyed. 
 
 "Go for a doctor — Mr. Leigh is very ill," she said, as the 
 servant answered. 
 
 Madame La Luce, AA'ondering, it is supposed, at the commo- 
 tion up stairs, or at Mr. Leigh's absence, now made her appear- 
 ance at the door, asking, in her sharp, broken English, — 
 
 "What is de matter?" 
 
 " Mr. Leigh is ill, Madame," said Lotty, calmly. 
 
 " 0, mon Dieii, il est mort!" said she, screaming. 
 
 "Pray, Madame, calm yourself — your cries make him worse." 
 
 With a mighty gasp, that made Philip's Avords fall from his 
 mouth Avith startling distinctness, he said, " Go, Avoman ! " 
 
 " You go, my dear. I hold Mr. Leigh ; he have my care." 
 
 " He meant you, Madame," said Lotty, calmly. 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! no, he adore me ; he Avish me by his side ; he 
 old bon friend." 
 
 Here Pliilip's efforts to speak became agonizing. 
 
 "Bear," said Lotty, "turn her out." 
 
 Nothing loth. Bear proceeded to perform his orders with so 
 much good Avill and alacrity, that Madame fled shrieking down 
 the stairs, and flying into the draAving-room, sank into the first 
 chair that came to hand. Bear folloAved ; his Ioav, sharp groAvls 
 and snapping jaAvs sounded and looked aAvful. But to those 
 who kneAv him, there Avas a good-humored sort of chuckle in 
 his eyes, that plainly shoAved he meant to be quite the gentle- 
 man in all he did, and that he Avas enjoying the fun greatly. 
 
 He walked with stately and solemn step into the draAving- 
 room after Madame, and rearing his huge proportions against 
 the door, he shut it like any other gentleman. Then, choosing 
 a convenient spot before the door, he laid himself down, in a 
 calm sort of contemptuous mood, and Madame saw she Avas a 
 prisoner, 
 
 19
 
 218 . MARGARET ., 
 
 Though she might have done deeds >vorthy of a prison, it 
 never entered into her CDiUoniphitloiis that her gaoler would pre- 
 sent to her the appearance of the present one. The thought of 
 hysterics had occurred to her, but possibly her struuge keeper 
 niiglit take measures to bring her round, never mentioned in the 
 annab of physic, Avhich would prove something so frightfully 
 out of the common as to be her death. 
 
 So she sat trembling in her chair, vowing and protesting to 
 herself that her old admirer, who adored her, should adore at a 
 distance, for never again would she encounter the glance of tho 
 child-wife's eyes, or the jaws of lior brute, " si cffroynhle" if 
 once she escaped fi'om the contiguity of either. Never was 
 woman in such a predicament ; unable to shriek, to speak, to 
 scold, not daring to move, she sat through what she thought a 
 lifetime of horrors. Once, and once only, with stealthy, slow 
 movement, did she put o>it her hand to reach the bell-rope. 
 
 Just as she thouglit she grasped it, a short, sharp growl of 
 intense anger made her spring out of her chair with fright, and 
 fall into it again with fear. She could just see Bear, and after 
 this mark of his qualities as a gaoler, he Avas quietly licking his 
 paws. Lotty would have said he was trying to hide a smirk 
 of gratified irony, that came over his grim countenance ; but 
 Madame saw nothing but " une hele tjjroyahle." 
 
 Various noises wei-e heard up stairs, running, calling, and 
 every sign of a dark and momentous time. 
 
 At the end of an hour all was quiet, and Bear seemed to 
 know that something pleasant was coming, for he raised himself, 
 his huge tail went to and fro, making a breeze quite refreshing 
 to the half-sick Madame. His eyes assumed a loving, fond look, 
 and !i3 tlie door opened he made way. 
 
 " Have you behaved like a gentleman. Bear?" said the young 
 girl, as she entered. 
 
 Bear rose up to his full height, and putting a paw on each 
 shoulder, looked an unmistakable "yes" into Lotty's eyes, 
 ^ladame shrieked, Lotty kissed him between the eyes and said, 
 " Good Bear ! " Then with a manner so dignified and courte- 
 ous that Madame La Luce's bold eyes drooped before hers, 
 she said, "Mr. Leigh is better, Madame — would you like a 
 fiacref" 
 
 " I wish to see him," said Madame La Luce, with poor 
 effrontery. 
 
 " The doctor is there, Madame, and he is shortly coming here 
 to write a prescription."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 219 
 
 The fact that this girl, in her woman's delicacy, should try 
 to spare Madame La Luce the shame of being found in a mar- 
 ried man's house, awoke no corresponding feeling in that hard- 
 ened breast. 
 
 It was nothina: to her — she had no shame left; she Avould 
 brave it out, if only to hurt the English wife's feeling. 
 
 " I shall stay to see M., the doctor, to hear his opinion." 
 
 " As you please, Madame ; come Bear." And they left the 
 room without further notice of Madame. She was rejoiced at 
 the absence of her strange gaoler, but she wished she had it in 
 her power to daunt that small, proud girl, if but for a moment. 
 It required all the effrontery and boldness she possessed to face 
 the doctor's astonishment when he saw her. 
 
 He was a Scotchman, but had been settled in Homberg many 
 years. The servant had called him instead of a German doctor, 
 thinking the lodgers would prefer their own countryman, espe- 
 cially the little young wife, who had made her way into their 
 hearts by many acts such as Lotty was well versed in. 
 
 Mr. Laird knew Madame La Luce well by sight and reputa- 
 tion. 
 
 " You here, Madame ? " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur ; how is your patient?" 
 
 ""Who is that young girl up stairs, then?" 
 
 " I know not, Monsieur." 
 
 " Ay, I kenned she was owre young for his wife," said the 
 doctor, musingly." 
 
 "How is M. Leigh?" 
 
 " Vara ill, Madame, and no fit for company like yours. Tak 
 my advice, and gang yer wavs." 
 
 " I am going, M. le Docteur ! I but wait to hear of my old 
 friend, M. Leigh — he adore me." 
 
 " He'll no adore ye long then. If the Lord sends nae better 
 symptoms, he'll no leeve twelve hours." 
 
 " 0, mon Dieu ! pauvre M. Leigh! I go, I fly — make my 
 compliments to M. Leigh. La mort ! 0, c'est affreuse"
 
 220 MARGARET 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 When' Mr. Laird reached his ovm house, late at night, after 
 seeing his patient in a calm sleep, and the child, as he called 
 her, sitting by his side, with an old woman in the room, whom 
 he had sent for to assist, he fell into a deep fit of musing. 
 
 " My word, Alick, but ye might awa to bed, if ye're gang- 
 ing to sit mump like that." 
 
 Thus said Mrs. Laird, who was also Scotch, and not of a 
 kindly temper, for she mourued over her banishment from the 
 land of cakes and heather. 
 
 " Hoot, Avoman ! dinna fash. I hae got a new patient." 
 
 " Man or woman, Alick?" 
 
 "A young man, and my heart is wae aboxit him — I think 
 he'll die ; and he is such a fine, grand, weel-favored chiel." 
 
 " And wliat's his ill, Alick?" 
 
 " Heart complaint, Janet." 
 
 " Ay, me, what a mony folks dee of that the noo, Alick ! In 
 my yoimg days, heart complaint was joost a fit o' luve." 
 
 •' Science is mair skilfu' noo, Janet, and kens mony things 
 that were aye hidden afore." 
 
 " Is he weel to do, Alick?" 
 
 "There seemed no lack, Janet ; for when I ca'ed for what I 
 wanted, it aye cam to my bond." 
 
 Mr. Laird was very deep ; he kneAV poverty was a great sin 
 in Janet's eyes ; and as he was plotting a scheme in his o\\ti 
 mind, Avliich, Avilhont her consent, he knew could not be done, 
 he was calling up all liis craftiness to his aid. 
 
 "And so you think he'll dee, Alick?" 
 
 " No tliat, Janet, if I had him niider my ain e'e, in the house 
 here — he lias nane to look after him." 
 
 " And div ye think I'sc gwan to have a strange mou in my 
 house?" said Mrs. Laird, Avratlifully, and beginning to see the 
 Doctor's drift. 
 
 " Then the puir, bonny lad must joost dee. Madame La Luce 
 must nurse liiin." 
 
 " WIiu?" said Mrs. Laird, panic-struck. 
 
 " Did no 1 tell ye I fund that woman i' the house?" 
 
 " Deed o' goodness, Alick ! gang yer Avays in the morn, and 
 fetch him straight here. I wadna be doing my duty as a coun- 
 trywoman, did 1 leeve the bonny lad in her clutches."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 221 
 
 " He is no to say a lad," said Mr. Laird. 
 • But Mrs. Laird was so taken up Avith her own ideas, that she 
 did not heed him. She had brought out with her from her na- 
 tive land a great deal of the old Puritan blood and feelings, for 
 which that land is famous. The unrighteous and ungodly pro- 
 ceedings of "foreign pairts," as she termed it, and the peculiarly 
 " awfu' " state of Homberg in particular, had done much to 
 increase her little acerbities. In railhig at them, she had 
 adopted a habit of always railing, because her decorous mind 
 and strict ways were scarcely ever without an atFront on them. 
 
 Madame La Luce, in particular, was a never-failing source 
 of righteous wrath ; and when everything went well in the 
 house, — Mr. Laird in high favor, the maids all doing their 
 duty, — that abhorred and odious name never failed to upset the 
 whole household, putting Mrs. Laird into a week's ill-humor. 
 
 " The hussie ! the ne'er-do-Aveel ! — ye tliink ye'll hae yer ain 
 way. Eh, Doctor, but ye mun be up in the morn, and get him 
 RAva', puir misguided lad ! " exclaimed she, at last, having 
 indulged in various other remarks that would not look Avell in 
 print, though, no doubt, strictly true. 
 
 " There is a bit, lass, too," began Mr. Laird. 
 
 " Hoot, man ! de ye think I can fash mysel' wi' ony more o* 
 your patients ? " 
 
 " She is nae patient, Janet. I am thinking she'll be sister to 
 
 you." 
 
 " I am sure there is naebody wha does their duty more 
 according to the blessed commandments nor me ; but as for tak- 
 ing in a' your fancies. Doctor, I wunna ! " 
 
 " Tlien I'll just gie this up, Janet ! and I Avadna hae men- 
 tioned it till ye, but I feared Madame La Luce might just get 
 hand of the young lassie ; and tlien, puir bairn " 
 
 " Gang yer Avays, Doctor, and fetch 'em botli. I'll get the 
 blue room ready for the lad, and the lass shall aye sleep in the 
 ema' chamber Avithin my ain. I Avarrant nae madames Avill get 
 at her there." 
 
 Dr. Laird having gained his ends, thought it prudent to say 
 nothing about the dog. As Madame La Luce could not con- 
 taminate him, there was no ruse by which he could obtain a 
 consent for his admittance. He Avas, in reality, very anxious to 
 have his ncAv patient immediately under his OAvn eye, not only 
 because he feared that the case was a very bad one, but, being 
 in lodgings, Madame La Luce might have constant admittance, 
 and keep his patient in a state of agitation that Avould go far to 
 19*
 
 222 MARGARET 
 
 retard his onrc ; for he had seen quite enough to know that he 
 ■was violently agitated at the bare mention of her name. Be- 
 sides, his kind heart felt for the little, lonely child, who had 
 showed such judgment and tact in all she had done to assist his 
 professional labors, and whose slight touch and gentle words 
 seemed to be like balm to his patient. Also, the study of a 
 heart-disease Avas a peculiar hobby of the good doctor's ; there- 
 fore, it was not to be wondered at that he fell into a brown 
 study in trying how he could beguile Mrs. Laird into his wishes, 
 and went to bed very well satisfied that he had succeeded. 
 
 On the morrow Philip was removed into the doctor's house, 
 with every care and precaution. To do Mrs. Laird justice, 
 when she made up her mind to a thing, she entered into every 
 detail of it, as if the original idea was her own, and had for 
 some time been her sole Avish. 
 
 She had routed up the good doctor at peep of day ; she had 
 cleaned, dusted, and tidied the blue room ; she had prepared 
 several little savory messes ; she received Philip as her own son, 
 and, taking forcible possession of him, she had him placed 
 between the snow-white homespun linen sheets, and surrounded 
 him with everything fresh and clean. 
 
 8he viewed, with great satisfaction, his pale, Avhite face 
 assume a look of pleasure at the change from the dismal lodging 
 to the cheerful, sunny chamber ; then, seeing him gaze anx- 
 iously around, she said, — 
 
 " What more Avant ye?" 
 
 " Lotty," said Philip, feebly. 
 
 " Here, Philip," said a voice outside ; and a little fairy child 
 came and sat at the foot of the bed. 
 
 P>eforc ]\Irs. Laird iiad time to recover her astonishment, a 
 great dog followed, and lay at her feet. 
 
 In her anxiety about Philip, Mrs. Laird had forgotten the 
 existence of the " litth; lass ;" but when the hound followed and 
 laid himself down as if he Avere perfectly at home, her Avrath 
 overfloAved. 
 
 "And Avhatten a beast do you ca' that?" she said, Avith a 
 vinegar aspect, to Lotty. 
 
 " He is a Scotch bhjodhound, ma'am," she ansAvered. 
 
 " Scotch or not, div ye think I'll allow such a beastie as that 
 in my best chaiuber?" 
 
 "(io down, Jjear, and lay by the frunl (loor uutil 1 come," 
 said Lotty. 
 
 Bear got up, and Avilh a meek look of supplication addressed
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 223 
 
 to Mrs. Laird, he sloAvly departed, with his tail in a dejected 
 and forlorn droop. 
 
 Mrs. Laird looked astonished, but said nothing. She fol- 
 lowed Bear out, and having apparently watched him, came back 
 with a red face. 
 
 " What sort of a dog is yon, that he kens a' ye say, like ony 
 Christian? " said she, to Lotty. 
 
 '' He is a veiy good, sensible dog, ma'am. I will take care 
 he shall give no trouble, if you will let him remain." 
 
 " I maun judge for mysel' first, afore I mak rash promises." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Weel, noo, if you'll promise to be good and quiet, ye may 
 stop with your brither a bit, while I step for a sup broth." 
 
 " Thank you, ma'am." 
 
 "What's the matter Avi' you, my man?" said Mrs. Laird, 
 seeing A cloud passing over Philip's face. 
 
 " She is my wife," said Philip. 
 
 " The Lord be gude to us all ! — he is ravinjr." 
 
 *' No, ma'am," said Lotty. " I am eighteen years old 
 nearly." 
 
 " O doctor, doctor ! — come yer ways ; here's a tale to tell ! " 
 and Mrs. Laird hurried out. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 "Do you feel more easy, Philip? "said Lotty, after Mrs. 
 Laird's abrupt departure. 
 
 " Yes, Lotty ; this room is pleasant." 
 
 " I must make some arrangements about our lodging and 
 board, Philip ; you Avould not like to be here on charity." 
 
 " No, no, of course not. You will find as much money as 
 you Avant in my writing-case." 
 
 " I may use it all, then? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, use Avhat you like, take Avhat you like ; we can 
 pay liberally, I have enough. But, Lotty, do not leave me." 
 
 " I shall not while you are ill, Philip." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 " Shall I read to you, Philip ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but sit where you are."
 
 224 MARGARET 
 
 Lotty did not read long ; lor Mrs. Laird, having recovered her 
 wits, now brought in the "• sup broth." 
 
 While administering it she proceeded to unburden her mind 
 of various matters, the foremost of -which was the horror and 
 shock she felt, that with a wife (though but a child) he had suf- 
 fered himself to get entangled with Madame La Luce. 
 
 Philip's face grew flushed, and the bed-clothes began to 
 heave. 
 
 '' Ma'am," said Lotty, " he does not like Madame La Luce 
 any more than you do." 
 
 *' At no hand say her name, bairn ; it's no fit for the like o' 
 you." 
 
 " But you agitate Mv. Leigh, ma'am, and it was owing to her 
 he had these spasms." 
 
 " 0, ay ! and was that it ? Wool, I'll say nac mair. If it 
 wasna his fault, it's no me as will say ane Avord more abune 
 the matter. I see the hail thing the noo, and I dinna think it 
 strange that a madame like that should hae been tuke wi' his 
 bonny luiks. Ech ! puir bairns, ye hae had a grand miss o' ill, 
 and its wecl ye had the good speerit, my man, to thraw Satan 
 behind ye." 
 
 " .Shall I give him the broth, ma'am? " said Lotty ; " you have 
 80 much to do." 
 
 " Weel, mind now yc dinna give it ovnre hot. It's nae mair 
 nor right that yc should learn yer duty as a wife." 
 
 And ^Irs. Laird departed, without seeing that whatever good 
 her broth might have done, her words were stings to Philip. 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty, do you forgive me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Philip." 
 
 " Your simple yes is to mo what a solemn oath would be from 
 another. I may feel it so, may I not, Lotty?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Philip," said Lotty, touched with his weak and 
 faltering voice. 
 
 " I sliould like to knoAv what feeling prompts you, Lotty, to 
 hide what you might so truly expose to your own honor and 
 credit?" 
 
 "As I hope for mercy myself, Philip, so Avould I give it 
 others." 
 
 " Mercy ! " said Pliilip, echoing her word ; " why should you 
 require mercy ? " 
 
 " We are all sinners before God, Philip, and all have need of 
 mercy." 
 
 'Jj,And do you believe so truly in a God, Lotty ? "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 225 
 
 " The fool hath said in his heart, ' There is no God,' " she 
 answered, witli solemn emphasis. 
 
 Philip colored, and remained silent for some time. 
 
 '• Has the doctor said anything to yon, Lotty, about my ill- 
 ness? Does he think it Avill be long before I am better?" 
 
 " I do not know, Philip," 
 
 '' I should like to- speak to him when he has time," said 
 Philip. 
 
 *•' Very well, Philip ; but now pray try to sleep ; the doctor 
 said you were to keep quiet." 
 
 " Will you remain where you are?" 
 
 " Yes, Philip." 
 
 He shut his eyes, and she sat in her child's attitude at the 
 bottom of the bed, reading. And so they remained for an hour, 
 but she knew he did not sleep. 
 
 At the end of that time Mrs. Laird entered. 
 
 " Weel, bairn, ye hae been vara quiet. I hae been to the 
 door, peeping through yon chink, and aye seen ye at yer post. 
 So when ye get weel, Mr. Leigh, ye'll have to remember she did 
 her best, though she is sae youug. But now, bairn, gang ye to 
 the big hound ; he joost breaks my heart, ganging by the door- 
 mat ; he looks that wistful at me. His een say as well as ony 
 Christian, ' Hoo long do ye mean to keep me biding here?' 
 And he'll no stir for ony of us." 
 
 " May I bring him up here, ma'am?" said Lotty. 
 
 " Nae, bairn, gang yer ways first oot o' the door, and get a bit 
 fresh air, with tlie big doggie, and then may be Pll see about 
 letting him go ben the house." 
 
 " Shall you want me, Philip?" 
 
 " I want you always, Lotty ; but go." 
 
 " O, ay, gang awa' ; ye Avadna, Mr. Leigh, keep a young thing 
 like thon fra the Lord's air. She'll joost gang into the garden, 
 and ril be sitting in thon chaii* Avatching her, to see she gets into 
 nae mischief." 
 
 " Can I see her? " said Philip, eagerly. 
 
 " No, diuna you stir ; I'll tell ye a' the news as I sit. Ech ! 
 but, mon, I dinua understand ye. Hardly letting the bairn out 
 o' your sight, and then letting that hussie have speech o' her." 
 
 " What is she doing now, Mrs. Laird? " 
 
 " Why, she is rinning here, there, and everywhere, and the 
 big doggie is after her, and they are like twa bairns at play. 
 Ay ! but it's wonderfu', how he threeps after that bit thing. 
 Has she nae mither, that she gaed that youug lass marry you, 
 Mr. Leigh?"
 
 226 » MARGARET 
 
 " No, phc had no mother." 
 
 " I thought so ! and ye bein^, nae doubt, knowledgable, did 
 ye think it wad be a guid purpose o' marriage, to tie that child 
 down in her early years ? Ye couldna have expected her to be a 
 woman ot" wile-like pairts." 
 
 The hot tears bur.st from I'hilip's eyes ; they had been gather- 
 ing lonsr, and Mrs. Laird was silent and watchful in her efforts 
 to calm his agitation. 
 
 Though she had many a secret misgiving as to the cause of 
 this bitter Aveeping on the part of a man who looked as if he was 
 one of Nature's finest works, she did not like to ask him more 
 questions ; hut settled in her own mind she would give the 
 thoughtless child-wile many a lecture on the duty of comporting 
 herself discreetly. For such tears could only have been extorted 
 by some heavy domestic disappointment. 
 
 In the evening the doctor was closeted long with his patient, 
 and Mrs. Laird took the opportunity of giving her first lecture 
 to Lotty, whom Philip had desired not to be present. 
 
 " I am thinking, my bairn, if ye paid half as much attention 
 to Mr. Leigh as ye do to yer dog, he wad be better content." 
 
 " Did he say so ma'am?" asked Lotty, quickly. 
 
 " Nae, he said nothing, but he wept salt tears, and nae man 
 does that wi'out heart's sorrow," 
 
 Mrs. Laird perceived, with much shock, that Lotty seemed 
 pleased to hear her husband had been weeping. 
 
 '' Nay, ma'am," said she, in answer to her reproof, " I did 
 not mean to be heartless, but people do not weep unless their 
 hearts are soft and tender," 
 
 " But, bairn, if you put on him owre much, nae wonder ye 
 make his heart hard." 
 
 " I will try not to put on him then, ma'am," said Lotty. 
 
 " That's my gude bairn. May the Lord but please to grant 
 him his health, and ye will turn out a grand wife yet. But hae 
 ye nae relations, child?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, of all kinds." 
 
 "And has he?" 
 
 '• Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " And how cum ye to this heathenish place, no one near ye, 
 and no servants ? " 
 
 " Philip wished it, ma'am." 
 
 " And are ye wi-el olV ? no that the doctor or me is to say 
 money lovers, and I hae taken ye into my house, and that is just 
 next to taking ye into my heart, and if Philip, as ye call him, 
 but mends, that's a' the recompense Janet Laird wanta."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 22T 
 
 " Philip told me, ma'am, to give you this money ; and as we 
 are not poor, he trusts that you will allow us to pay for eveiy- 
 thing, the same as if you had kindly taken us in as lodgers. 
 But you must suiFer me to say, that no money, nothing we can 
 give, will repay you, in our thoughts, for this truly Samaritan 
 kindness." 
 
 " Bairn, bairn, diuna talk like that ! we are sair wearied living 
 in this evil place, and that makes one fashions ; but I had a lad 
 brither, just like your Philip, and my heart Avarms to him." 
 
 " You are very kind, ma'am, and I thank you also for your 
 goodness to Bear, for — for " Here Lotty's voice faltered. 
 
 " Say nae mair ; the doggie is unco queer, and I think not 
 quite canny, but he is vara welcome, as long as he is discreet. 
 But deed o' goodness, bairn ! div ye ken how much money is 
 here ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, nearly two hundred pounds of English moneys 
 and forty-eight pounds in foreign money, and you can have as 
 much more when you wish it." 
 
 " Weel, I'll tak care on it then," said Mrs. Laird, with a sigh. 
 
 *' Why do you sigh, ma'am? " 
 
 " If we had the half o' that, every year, I wad be back in 
 our ain country." 
 
 " This is yours, at all events, ma'am," said Lotty. 
 
 " Hoot, bairn ! more than twa hundred pounds ! It's little 
 ye ken about money ; we'll tak what's fitting, just to mak ye 
 feel at hame, but na mair, I can certify." 
 
 CHAPTEE LV. 
 
 The doctor's face was grave and sad as he left Philip's room. 
 
 " Eh, doctor ! but ye dunna think he'll die?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Have you told him?" said Lotty, anxiously looking up into 
 his face. 
 
 " I was feared it might hurt him," said the doctor. 
 
 " O, sir, ought he, should he, be pei-mitted to die unprepared? 
 Will you kindly think of this ? " 
 
 As she spoke. Bear came into the room, and putting up his 
 paw, tapped her on the arm.
 
 228 MARGARET 
 
 " Philip calls, sir ; but if there is no hope, ! hide it not, for 
 the love of God." And she left the room. 
 
 " Deed, Alick, she is no canny, heartless bairn, talking in 
 that way, and joost liearing she may lose her fine, winsome hus- 
 band.. And tlie hound Deed, if they gae ou this queer 
 
 "way, I'll be demented. And she so sweet spoken too. You 
 may depend on it, Alick, she has broke his heart with coldness." 
 
 " But aye body speaks well on lier, Janet, and the auld nurso 
 said she had had uuething to do last night. The young Icddy 
 ■was up at the first word." 
 
 " I dinna ken what to mak o' her, Alick, for old Madame 
 "Wegel's bonne has been hei*e a crying after her. But I'll think 
 nae mair ; they must gang their ain ways, if they winua seek 
 counsel o' me. But div ye think he'll dee, Alick?" 
 
 " Naething but a miracle will save him. Janet." 
 
 "I'll just gang to the chink o' the door, maybe he's axing her, 
 and she'll just flit him alF, if she spaks out to him." And Mrs. 
 Laird departed to listen, so that she might make amends for any 
 heartlessncss on the part of the little wife ; but to say the truth, 
 she was laboring under an ungovernable fit of curiosity. 
 
 " Lotty, did the doctor tell you nothing about my illness ? " 
 
 " I had not time to hear more, Philip, than that his opinion 
 was unfavorable." 
 
 " Then you will triumph, Lotty. Death will free you forever 
 from your chain." 
 
 " Xay, Philip, talk not so. Do you think me so base in heart 
 and feeling as to rejoice in the prospect of your death?" 
 
 " Why should you be ditfereut from the rest of the world ? 
 You hate me, and you will be rid of me." 
 
 '' I do not hate you, Philip, and never did." 
 
 " Ah, Lotty, if I could but think that." 
 
 " I could not have married you, Philip, had I not liked you, 
 whatever my father's commands* had been ; and you were fast 
 gaining my grateful affections, by your forbearance at that time. 
 I wished to love you, Philip. I tried to do so, not only because 
 of his wishes, but the void in my heart at his loss was so aching. 
 But " 
 
 " But what, Lotty? Go on, go on ; if I had only known that 
 before." 
 
 " You did, Philip. I told you. Do you not remember my 
 warning you, tliat my love was not to be forced, only gained?" 
 
 " I remember that conversation well. I have pondered over 
 it often. I determined to make you love me my own way."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 229 
 
 " Yes, Philip." 
 
 " And, Lotty, did you refuse me your affection, because in my 
 man's pride I would take no advice how to win it? " 
 
 " No, Philip, that you know is not the case. I love what is 
 good, great, generous, and frank. Did you act thus towards 
 me ? " 
 
 " I loved but you, Lotty." 
 
 " And yourself, Philip." 
 
 " Then you mean to insinuate I have wrecked my own hap- 
 piness." 
 
 " I do not insinuate, Philip. What I said so soon after our 
 marriage, I say now. My love was to be won. I pointed out 
 to you the way, which I would not have done to other than my 
 husband. You took the opposite path." 
 
 " Whatever path I took, it seems that I, with a love in my 
 heart not equalled by moi'tal man, am doomed, — doomed to an 
 early death, — and you " 
 
 " Will pray that you may live, Philip," interrupted Lotty, 
 solemnly. 
 
 " Ah," said Philip, eagerly, " is that true? Say it again, my 
 wife." 
 
 " O, Philip, it is true that your life is in danger ! Can you 
 think of meeting your God, unprepared, unrepentant ? " 
 
 " Is that the reason why you would pray for my recovery?" 
 
 " Yes, Philip." 
 
 " And would you rather that I should live, live, Lotty, to be 
 what I have been to you, perhaps worse, if that can be, than die, 
 as you say, ' unprepared to meet your God ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, Philip." 
 
 " Come here, and look at me. Ah, matchless eyes in beauty 
 and color, but glorious in their truth and clearness, look full at 
 me ! Could you live on through this long life, separated from 
 all you love, subjected to every trial and indignity, that you so 
 well know can be inflicted upon you, for the hope that you might 
 save a lost soul ? " 
 
 " Yes, Philip." 
 
 " Then your God shall be mine ; teach me to pray to him 
 that, whether I live or die, you may have the reward you merit. 
 Lotty, you have conquered." 
 
 " Nay, Philip, it Avas not I who entered the lists ; it was one 
 Philip against another. You have conquered yourself; but your 
 heart beats. If you love Lotty, as you say you do, you will calm 
 yourself at present, and rest." 
 20
 
 230 MARGARET 
 
 " If I love Lotty ? " murmured Philip. " I thought I did ; but 
 I loved my owu mad -will better. AVill you read to me — read 
 the Bible, read that one verse again, — ' The fool hath said in 
 his heart, Tliere is no God'? " 
 
 She phiced herself before him, and a lofty, pure expression 
 came over the lovely child-face, as she opened the Holy Book to 
 teach the Avorldly-wise man. 
 
 AVith unerring judgment she turned from one passage to an- 
 other. In the glowing lauirua're of Isaiah, the attributes of the 
 Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, the Comforter, were shown to 
 him. Then the fallen, abject state of man. And with voice that 
 thrilled him Avith its earnestness, she poured forth the ever-living 
 Avords of David, as he bared his heart, and the heart of every 
 man, before God. 
 
 " Ah ! Lotty, how true, how just. Is it you that speak to me 
 in such language, or is it meant for me? Surely the name of 
 Philip Leigh must be written there. Say it aloud — nay, spare me 
 nothing, for that Avas, that must have been written solely for me." 
 
 " Nay, Philip, be calm. Recollect how necessary it is that 
 you refrain from all excitement. Try and sleep now ; to-mor- 
 row I Avill read again." 
 
 "How do you pray, Lotty? I know you pray every night 
 and morning. I should like to hear you." 
 
 Lotty knelt down, and repeated the simple form of prayer 
 with which she concluded each day. It was still much in the 
 same form as Avhen a child at school she used it, and its touch- 
 ing simplicity went through to Philip's heart. She paused a 
 moment, and then whisperingly said his name, with a petition 
 that God would open his eyes, and unseal his heart. It Avas a 
 prayer he felt she must have repeated daily, and then Avith 
 soleum earnestness she said the Lord's prayer. He repeated it 
 after her. 
 
 ''You always say that?" he Avhispered. 
 
 " Always," she answered. 
 
 " I thank God for it ! " and he fell quietly asleep. 
 
 "When Lotty left him for a short time, to go to Mrs. Laird, 
 she found that old lady Aveeping. 
 
 " yiy bairn," she said, " I hae been at the chink in the door, 
 and though I couldna hear nmch, I saAV ye opeu the Holy Book, 
 and I hope God Avill l)less yer labors. I took ye for ane o' a 
 hard lieart, but somehoo ye liae mair thought than I kenned, 
 and it Avad be a burning sin did that fine laddie die Avith his sins 
 nae forgiven."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 281 
 
 " You will help me then, ma'am," said Lotty, taking her hand 
 and kissing it. 
 
 " Bless the bonnie bairn ! " said Mrs. Laird, folding her in 
 her strong embrace, " I am ready to die for ye baith ; and hoo 
 it comes about I canna rightly say, for I kenned naethiug about 
 either on you yestermorn." 
 
 " It shows, ma'am, how kind your heart is," said Lotty. 
 
 "Weel noo, we maim all gang to bed ; it has been a day of 
 wonders, and nae mortal can tell what new thing may hap on 
 the morrow." 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 In the night Philip had so severe a return of the spasms, that 
 for several days he lay faint and exhausted, with the damp and 
 the hue of death on his face, and scarcely any perceptible life in 
 him. 
 
 Mrs. Laird had no reason to doubt ^' the bairn's" care for 
 him. It seemed that Philip was sufficiently conscious to refuse 
 all food but what her hand presented, hear no voice save hers, 
 while the good doctor would say, — 
 
 " That's a Avonderful young thing, that bairn Avife, she forgets 
 naething ; and yet I dinua think she luves her husband as he 
 does her." 
 
 " That's what's sending me joost crackit, Alick ; such a 
 bonnie fine lad, too, and when I get fashed Avi' her steady, 
 cauld ways, wi' uac heart in them, she luiks at me with them 
 stars o' eyes, and I Avad joost think her a bit angel, and could 
 loA'e the ground she stands on. And that big doggie, they're 
 a pair on 'em. He is a lying at this minvite on ma best parlor 
 door mat, and, wad ye believe it, I tak it up stairs mysel, joost 
 for him, for as he Avadna leave the bairn, I didna think I could 
 sleep Aveel if he hadna a saft bed too." 
 
 " Ech ! Janet, ye had always the kind heart." 
 
 "And have ye tell't the lad Philip he canna mend?" said 
 she. 
 
 " Ay, Janet, when the spasms was bad, he luiks at me and 
 said, 'Is this death?' and I answered, ^ The Lord so Avills it.' 
 Then the bairn Avife stoopit doAATi, and kissed him on the cheek, 
 and he lookit aAvfu' at her, and said, ' Do ye this for the first
 
 232 MARGARET 
 
 time, because yon vill soon be free?' ' No, Pliilip,' said she, 
 ' from sorrow and pity.' Then Aveut he aflf again, Avorse nor 
 ever, and I didna think, Janet, he would hae lived till morn," 
 
 " Ay ! mon, they are past my kenning, wi' their odd ways, 
 as man and wife. First time, indeed ! I dinna think 1 was 
 ever but a discreet, prudent body, but 1 gav you a wife's kiss on 
 the asking, Alick." 
 
 " She is sae young, Janet, and may be they have nae been 
 lang married ; I Avonder has she Avritten hame. It is time his 
 friends should knoAv, though it may be Aveeks yet afore the 
 end." 
 
 When riiilip had so far recovered as to talk and sit up for a 
 feAV hours of the day, Lotty perceived that a gloomy spirit Avas 
 in possession of his mind. She had not expected that he Avould 
 alAvays be in the soft and gentle mood that he AA'as before the 
 last seizure, so her gentle anxiety Avas nothing daunted. 
 
 Mrs. Laird Avas sitting at the Avindow, in his room, Avhile 
 Lottv AA'as taking her usual run in the garden Avith Bear. 
 
 " Do you see her, Mrs. Laird? " said Philip. 
 
 " Yes, she is ganging sloAvly down the broad path, and the 
 big doggie is sorroAvful by her side, and he has getten her 
 little Avee hand in his mou." 
 
 ''Have they had no race together? has she not played Avith 
 him as usual ? " 
 
 " Noo, they arc joost doAvn-casted, baith on 'em," said Mrs. 
 Laird ; " though she is no Avifo-like in her Avays, she has aye a 
 Avarn\ heart, Mr. Leigh." 
 
 Tliis Avas a feeler on the part of Mrs. Laird to extract some- 
 thing from Philip, Avho, hoAvever, made no reply. 
 
 " She Avas married oAvre young, Mr. Leigh, and I diuua tliink 
 ye kenned Iioav to beguile her into Avife's Avays." 
 
 " Trying to do so has brought me to this pass," he said 
 gloomily, as if to himself. 
 
 '' I d(jiibt she liasiia been canny Avith him," said Mrs. Laird 
 to herself; " men are sae queer, thinking they are lords of 
 creation, and never dc^eving there must be leddies too." 
 
 '■' What is she doing noAv?" said Philip again. 
 
 "She's drooping still mair, and the hound's tail SAA-eeps the 
 groimd." 
 
 '' Tlien yf)U lliiiik she is in sorroAv?" said Philip, eagerly. 
 
 " Jt looks vara like it, and to an auld body like me, 1 dinna 
 luvc to see young things greet. Sae, Mr. Leigh, if ye hae ony 
 thing on your mind, atAveen her and you, get it settled sune ; ye
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 233 
 
 wadna like to die, and leave her so young wi' a canker in her 
 heart." 
 
 " That would more surely be the case if I lived, Mrs. Laird," 
 said Pliilip, bitterly. 
 
 " The rights between you I canna tell, as ye'll no seek coun- 
 sel of ane wha is willing to gie it. But ony way, my mon, 
 dinna gang to meet your Maker Avi' an um-epented sin on your 
 heart." 
 
 Philip was silent, but his eyes were fixed on the window, as 
 if he tried to catch a glimpse of the garden. 
 
 " She faulds her hands and she luiks up to Heaven ; maybe 
 she is sending vip a prayer to Heaven for ye, Mr. Leigh," said 
 Mrs. Laird, who, mindful of her promise to Lotty, was endeavor- 
 in2[ to fulfil it. 
 
 " And do you think there is a being who hears such prayers?" 
 he answered. 
 
 " Ech ! laddie, speak not so awfu' like. Div ye think the 
 meanest daisy that turns its wee star-face to the sky graws by 
 chance? or div ye think yon winsome child, whom ye have set 
 up as an idol in yer heart, was man's wark ? Can ye see nae 
 signs of a high and wonderful hand in that fair face, that gra- 
 cious spii'it?" 
 
 " 'Tis true," murmured Philip, " a God only could have 
 formed her. But is he a just God, to bless one with such per- 
 fection, and to curse others with such infirmitv?" 
 
 " Each ane has their gifts, if they wad but see them." 
 
 " But each have not the same advantages, the same opportu- 
 nities given them, of learning their duty." 
 
 "As how, Mr Leigh?" 
 
 " I had no early religious training ; my parents gave me no 
 instruction or example." 
 
 " And Avha's the differ, man? The Lord made it up till ye 
 by gi'ing ye that angel-child in yer braw manhood. Then ye 
 wad be no the waur for thanking him night and day for such a 
 gift. ' The Lord is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all 
 his woi-ks.' What he takes in ane away, he gives twafold in 
 another. But dinna greet ; I see yer smitten wi' yer ingratitude, 
 and it's weel ye suld be." 
 
 It is true Philip was smitten with a sudden awe, inexplicable 
 to him. It seemed as if his heart and soul were filled with a 
 wonder and amazement he had never felt before. The vastness 
 of the creative powers of an all-powerful and unseen God made 
 him feel himself as the merest atom of dust. And yet the 
 20*
 
 234 MARGARET 
 
 beauty, the comprehensiveness, the power of such ca Being, filled 
 his senses witli a liigh and cli'vating' feelincr, that made him — 
 the proud, the luibendin,!; Thilip Leigh — wish to adore with the 
 humility and meekness of a child. An agitation ran through his 
 whole Irame, but it seemed at once so delightful, so soothing, 
 that his heart grew calm and his foce serene under its influ- 
 ence. 
 
 He seemed to realize that he had a Father, a Friend, a 
 Saviour near him, on his pillow, in his heart, and the thirst of a 
 hungry, dying soul came over him. 
 
 " Where is my wife?" he said at last. 
 
 " She is sitting on the grass, wi' an open letter on her knee ; 
 but she talks to the hound, and whiles he puts a paw on her 
 arm, and whiles he licks her hands, and I'm thinking, like ony 
 Christian, he is trying to comfort her." 
 
 " Will vou ask her to come to me?" 
 
 " Ay, laddie. I need but tap, and she'll be up, like the flitting 
 of a rose-leaf." 
 
 " Lotty, will you again read to me?" said Philip, as she 
 appeared. 
 
 Tiiis time Lotty read out of the Gospels ; and as her soft voice 
 said the words of the parable of the Prodigal Son, Philip stretched 
 out both hands, and said, " ' Father, I have sinned against 
 heaven and before thee, and am no more Avorthy to be called 
 thy son ; ' but forgive me, O, forgive me ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " said Lotty solemnly. 
 
 From that hour the spirit of a humble child came upon 
 Philip. 
 
 He poured forth to Lotty the long-concealed feelings of his 
 heart, the evil tree of envy and malice that so grew and flour- 
 ished there. He laid bare the proud, bitter feelings, that 
 prompted him to turn from her loving eflforts, and trust only to 
 his own haughty, determined will ; and the more that little, slight 
 frame enveloj)od itself in its own mantle of rectitude and patience, 
 so tiie more did he determine that it should bend and break to 
 his will. 
 
 In everything had he failed ; with each trial she seemed but 
 further renuned from him alter each attempt, but more resolute 
 und conquering. 
 
 " And, ah, Lotty ! " he continued one day, " you remember 
 wlicn I returned to the chateau, and you asked me if I had lieea 
 ill ; then, ami tlien only, did a bitter feeling of remorse and de- 
 spair seize me, and a sense of humiliation appeared to break me
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. ^35 
 
 down into the dust. But such was my infatuation, such my 
 blind madness, that, with this feeling of despair in my heart, 
 with a whispering in my soul to forbear, to give all up, and 
 wait your own time, your own wishes, I yet determined to make 
 this last trial. 'Twas made, and I lie here on my death-bed ! " 
 
 Lotty could only bid him be calm ; she felt that such remorse 
 was good for him. 
 
 " You have had a letter to-day, Lotty," he said. 
 
 " Yes ; one from Margaret." 
 
 "May I hear it?" 
 
 " Willingly, Philip." 
 
 And as if her heart was the heart that ^vrote, Lotty read out 
 the letter, with all the pathos and feeling it deserved. 
 
 "No wonder she mourns for you, my Lotty — 'her best 
 Lotty ; ' but you will soon be with her ! Ah, wonderful is this 
 love in Avoman ! — so pui-e, so constant ! — she will not think 
 her Harold guilty. And he is not, Lotty, in this. I can make 
 amends to Harold for many a dark thought — many a wicked 
 wish. She wishes to go to Cowes, does she ? to see the rooms 
 he used — the place he trod last. True woman ! — and only 
 cares to have his name cleared. It will be. And, I think, 
 Lotty, it is reasonable that wish to go to Cowes, for he may 
 have left some papers ; you may learn some circumstance that 
 will throw a light on his strange and inexplicable conduct. For 
 if ever a man loved his wife, Harold did, I know. Ah, poor 
 thing ! — poor, forlorn, unhappy heart, how you mourn and are 
 weary ! Write to her — comfort her, Lotty ; tell her you will 
 soon be with her, and that I leave you to her as a legacy — such 
 a legacy as I owe for unloyal thoughts of her, for undue judg- 
 ment of her character, the first time I saw her. And noAv send 
 my good doctor to me while you are absent." 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 Under the influence of these ncAv feelings, so calm and 
 soothing, Philip's health mended rapidly, so that he was enabled 
 to be taken out for a short airing two or three times. 
 
 Mr. Laird had petitioned him to write either to his friends or 
 his wife's, but Philip would not hear of it.
 
 236 MARGARET 
 
 " No, no ; I Avill have no one come between her and rae. Let 
 me have her all to myself for the short time you permit me to 
 think I may live." 
 
 Durin"r this time Lottv had endeavored, Avith all her best 
 energies, to load him on in the patii of peace and holiness ; and 
 with wonderful eagerness and thirsting he drank in every word 
 — every draught she gave him. Such was the iutluence of his 
 conduct, that Mrs. Laird again elevated biin on to the topmost 
 pinnacle of her favor, and no son could have appeared more dear 
 to her, and lor no child could she have exerted herself more. 
 
 The bairn-wife sank into a second-rate thought, with her big 
 doggie, unless they administered to IMiilip's comfort. 
 
 " I almost think, Lotty," said Philip, one day, '' that if I go on 
 improving so nnich in strength, I may reach home. I long to 
 see my home with the new eyes and heart your God has given 
 me. I dream of it at night, and often think, Lotty, that it 
 would be now to me what it ought to have been before." 
 
 '■ Yes, Philip ; and we might ask Mr. and Mrs. Laird to come 
 home with us. She Avants to leaA'C this place ; and you knoAv, a 
 medical man Avas required at Warrington, before avc came aAvay, 
 for the ncAv schools and college, and Ave might get the appoint- 
 ment for him." 
 
 " You tliink of every one, Lotty. Li a day or tAvo aa-c Avill 
 propose it, for there Avill be less danger attendant on the journey, 
 Avith the good doctor near ; and, besides, should anything occur 
 to me, you Avill not be alone." 
 
 " NoAV, then, Ave Avill go for a drive, for I see the little Aehicle 
 coming up tlie street. Run, Bear, and bring Philip's hat." 
 
 "Ah ! Lotty, I gaA'^e you that dog ; I gave you that one source 
 of happiness." 
 
 '• You did, Philip, and never Avas gift more prized, more be- 
 loved. Ah ! good Bear, Lotty OAves you much, that no one but 
 you and Lotty knoAV ; and yet, I dare say, avc have yet much 
 more for Avhich Ave shall have to be grateful." 
 
 It Avas not to be supposed that Madame La Luce Avould let 
 the rich and handsome yoiuig Englishman slip through her 
 fingers Avitliout a struggle. Certainly, if any one (I'liilip him- 
 self) iiad told her, that lie but used her services to niake his 
 Avife jealous, she coidd not, Avould not, have believed them. 
 
 Th(! thing Avould have been inexplicable to lier. She believed 
 her own charms so irresistible, Philip could be actuated by no 
 other motiv(^ than adoration of her. For a short time, under- 
 standing from the doctor that he Avas dying, she had dismissed
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 237 
 
 tim from licr thoughts, with little difficulty, as dead. Upon 
 hearins: however that he was better, she cast about in her mind 
 hoAv she should accomplish an interview. So she wrote a note, 
 which, with a handsome bribe, she gave, herself, to one of strict 
 Mrs. Laird's servants, desiring it might be delivered into Mr. 
 Leigh's own hands quietly. 
 
 The foreign servant, delighted even without a bribe to do a 
 deed she knew her hard and decorous mistress would utterly ab- 
 hor, executed her task with a tact worthy of Madame La Luce's 
 own maid ; Philip was in possession of the letter, without any 
 one but the servant knov/ing it. 
 
 He languidly opened it, and after reading the contents, he 
 called Bear, and gave it to him to play with. 
 
 It was a pity Madame La Luce Avas not a fly on the wall, to 
 see the note upon which she had spent such pathos and senti- 
 ment now crunching into little nasty bits, under the destructive 
 powers of the " hete effroyable." 
 
 On the following day, receiving no answer, she sent another 
 note by the post. "When Philip saw the handwriting, he called 
 Bear again, and as if it Avere Madame La Luce herself. Bear 
 could not, apparently, have derived more satisfaction in tearing 
 the unopened letter into a thousand bits. 
 
 Mrs. Laird would have fainted had she known whose hand 
 penned the fragments she so tidily picked up and put into the 
 fire. 
 
 Altogether Bear was favored with a good many of those 
 notes, of Avhose contents no one knew anything but himself. 
 
 But Madame La Luce, knowing nothing of all this, still flat- 
 tered herself, and wrote, but was taken greatly by surprise one 
 day, at seeing the sick man, whom she supposed too weak to 
 answer letters, driving out with the young child-Avife beside him. 
 
 She Avrote to express her delight at his recovery ; but, as 
 Bear did not tell what was in the letter, of course no one was 
 aware of it. 
 
 Still finding that no responses came, Madame grew indignant, 
 then angry, then revengeful, and then cunning. She v>'ould 
 make the proud Englishman return to her. 
 
 On this day therefore, when they were driving out, the coach- 
 man suddenly stopped, and before either Lofty or Philip could 
 have prevented her, Madame had tripped up the little steps of 
 the carriage, and seated herself opposite to them. 
 
 " Drive on," she said, with cool effrontery ; which the coach- 
 man, already bribed, and in the plot, did.
 
 238 JLUtGAEET 
 
 "All! M. Loiirli, how clmrmee, how enchantee! je suis de 
 vous voir, and so well, aussi, so strong, so lively, so yourself; 
 and your littel sister, so pretty, so fresh. Ah ! mon Dieu ! quel 
 honlieur inattenda." 
 
 Philip's eyes flashed, and Lotty saw with alarm that the blue 
 tint of suppressed passion and rage was gathering round his lips. 
 
 " Be calna, Philip," she said, " dear Philip," looking into his 
 face with such genuine anxiety, love, and pity, that he felt she 
 loved hiui then, and tried to answer her, by pressing her hands 
 with tender force. " "We are in the public streets now, dear 
 Philip, and this coachman is bribed. Be calm, dear, until we 
 get into the lane ; she cannot hurt me, she shall not hurt you." 
 
 " Mafoi ! I oblige, truly ; I much oblige. Miss, your English 
 politcsse, O, so great ! O, I forget, you Mrs. Leigh, dat lady 
 so ver polite to me one time, she set her great cliien to me ! Ah ! 
 mon Dieu! I never forget, so I vill take my littel revenge; ve 
 vill take drive together through de town. Coachman, go all 
 through de town ; I wish to be ver civil and polite, so I put on 
 my bonnet f/-/a-?»of7c, just from Paris, and all my line things, to 
 do you honor, M. Leigh." 
 
 As she spoke, the carriage began to go up hill, and at a foot's 
 pace. One clear, sweet whistle, and Bear was on the seat by 
 Madame La Luce. Dirty and damp with his run through the 
 wet streets, his great tail went switching over INIadamc La 
 Luce's face and bonnet, blinding her eyes, and destroying her 
 personal appearance. For a moment he thought he had been 
 called into the carriage only for a frolic with his dear mistress, 
 but a scream from INIadame La Luce changed his Avhole nature. 
 
 Every bristle raised, his eyes becoming blood-red, his fangs 
 glisteuiug. Bear gave a savage growl, and sprang towards her. 
 Lotty threw her arms round Iiim, to restrain him, while Madame 
 uttered shriek after shriek. 
 
 " (iet out," said Lofty, " I cannot hold him long," 
 
 With one spring, Madame jumped ; but the coachman having 
 been told to care for no row in the carriage, had not yet checked 
 his horses, though ^Fadame's shrieks and the dog's growls were 
 beginning to make him tlunk that he had better not obey orders. 
 Therefore she fell with considerable violence on the road. 
 
 " Bear, watch Philip," said Lotty, and sprang out to help her. 
 But the coaehman, confused and amazed at the extraordinary 
 and unexpected result of the intended diive, and (he horses 
 being half unmanageable witli the cries and screams, and their 
 being so suddenly checked on the hill, all made him, in some
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 239 
 
 inexplicable manner, back the carriage, so that it went over the 
 prostrate form of Madame La Luce. Some people came up at 
 that moment, attracted by the cries, and, leaving them to assist 
 the unhappy woman, Lotty Avas at Philip's side again in a 
 moment. 
 
 " May I wait, Philip, to see if she is much hurt, and to place 
 her in safety ? " 
 
 He nodded an assent, for he could not speak, yet Philip was 
 trying to exercise his new feelings, and strove to hide from 
 Lotty the agony he was suffering. 
 
 "Are you sure you would not rather go home?" 
 
 " Go," said Philip. 
 
 They had not to Avait long, for one of Madame's own servants 
 came to her rescue and help. 
 
 She was not stunned or senseless, for, as they lifted her up, 
 she cast a malignant, hateful glance at Philip, and screamed 
 out, — 
 
 "• You shall have de law, Mr. Leigh, you shall have de prison ! 
 you shall be fined for de assault, for de wicked treatment, and 
 dat hete effroyable shall be shot." 
 
 " Drive home," said Lotty, " and fast." 
 
 Deep sighs came from Philip ; the cold dew burst from eveiy 
 pore. Lotty could hear the bovmding heart beating as if mad 
 from imprisonment ; the lips, the eyes, the clear, thin nostrils all 
 blue, dark, death-like blue. Lotty wrung her hands, as if irre- 
 pressibly. 
 
 " For me," gasped Philip, " for me, she grieves ; Lotty, the 
 punishment is just, that this woman should be my death. But 
 thanks to my Father in heaven, my wife on earth, I die happy." 
 
 When the carriage stopped at Mr. Laird's door, whither Bear 
 had gone before, and brought the whole household there with 
 his wild baying, Mr. Laird lifted from Lotty's shoulder the 
 drooping head of a dead man, and bore the lifeless corpse of 
 Philip Leigh into the house, while Mrs. Laird folded the shud- 
 dering, pale, panic-stricken Lotty in her sheltering arms, and 
 carried her up to her own bed. 
 
 " Dinna greet, my lamb, my bonnie bairn ! the doctor ay 
 kenned he wad gang off suddenly ; no but what he thought him 
 better, or he wad not hae let ye gang yer lane. Weep a bit, my 
 birdie, and dinna luik so starins: like." 
 
 " It was so horrible ! " murmured Lotty. 
 
 " Like enough, my wee bit angel I but he aye had time to say 
 one word till ye, to bid ye farewell."
 
 240 ^. MARGARET 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Lotty, eagerly, '•' he said he died happy. 
 But is he dead? arc you sure he is dead? O ! let me go to him ; 
 he may be calling for me." 
 
 " Ye shall come, if it will ease you, my bairn, and may be it 
 will joost open the tear-drops. Dry eyes iu muckle sorrow is 
 aye a sign o' brain mischief." 
 
 Slie again lifted up the little, light form, and carrying her 
 down in her strong arms, she held her tight, Avliile Lotty looked 
 at the line but lifeless form of lier husband, stretched on the bed 
 he had left that morning -with renewed signs of life and vigor. 
 
 "Philip! Philip!" she said. 
 
 Tso answer : the dead cannot hear. 
 
 " O, let me down, Mrs. Laird ; let me speak close into his 
 ear." 
 
 She suffered her to approach. 
 
 As Lotty looked at the calm, dead face, with the smile of hap- 
 piness yet lingering on the lips, speaking again in voiceless 
 words, •' I die happy," the tears burst forth in showers. 
 
 " Yes, he is dead ! he is really dead ! he will hear my voice no 
 more ; he Avill never call Lotty again. He said that he died 
 happy, and I, I am happy that he so died. Farewell, Philip, 
 farewell ! You will, in God's own time and of his merciful good- 
 ness, see the Lotty you loved so strangely, again. Then shall 
 we be as the angels of heaven, and part no more." 
 
 Kissing the broad, white, death-stricken brow, Lotty placed 
 herself, liked a tired child, iu Mrs. Laird's sheltering arms, and 
 said, " Now take me away and love me, and let me be your 
 child until they come for me." 
 
 '• My aiu sweet bairn ! my little pet lamb ! " murmured Mrs. 
 Laird, as she carried the little worn-out frame to lier bed again ; 
 and covering her up, she saw, with tears of pleasure, that the 
 white lids closed, the sweet face gi-ew calm, the pretty lips red, 
 and the gentle breath went to and fro with a calm regularity. 
 Lotty seemed to sleep as the first sleep of a new-boru baby, half 
 its dreams in heaven. 
 
 "While she was yet in this deep slumber, INIr. Laird was 
 called to speak to an ollicer of justice. AVith the (piiet common 
 sense peculiar to Scottish character, Mr. Laird licard the ollicial 
 go through a long detail of crimes and assaults committed tiiat 
 day on the person of Madame La Luce, whose deposition having 
 been taken, a warrant was issued by the chief magistrate to take 
 up tiie body of the offender, and commit him to prison. And 
 ]^Ir. Laird looked at tlie warniut, and asscntinir to the officer's
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 241 
 
 remark, that all was apparently perfectly correct, asked quietly 
 Avliat further he wanted, 
 
 " I want the oftender ; I have my officers here, and he must 
 go from hence immediately to prison." 
 
 " Mr. Philip Leigh? " said Mr. Laird, inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Philip Leigh, immediately ; so I will call my 
 assistants." 
 
 " There is no occasion," said Mr. Laird ; " follow me." 
 
 " This was Mr. Leigh," continued Mr. Laird, pointing to the 
 body, stretched out in. its death-clothes. " Return to the chief 
 magistrate, and tell him, if necessary, I will call and explain the 
 whole matter to him ; but that the chief offender and sinner in 
 this case is Madame La Luce herself. That fine young man 
 owes his sudden, fearful death to her. What more revenge 
 wants she ? " 
 
 This conversation took place in the German language ; and 
 as Mr. Laird poured fortli his words in his strong, sonorous 
 voice, the deep emotions of the day adding a solemn air to their 
 effect, the officer drew back, appalled and speechless. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 Mrs. Laird did not understand Lotty's character yet. After 
 that first emotion she showed no more. There was a quiet air 
 of content about her that provoked Mrs. Laird beyond measure. 
 She talked of Philip in a manner as serene and cheerful as if he 
 were still up stairs, and Avrote all her letters and arranged all his 
 affairs without a tear. She seemed rather sorry when she heard 
 that Madame La Luce's leg was broken, and it was feared she 
 would be lame for life. 
 
 " Poor thing ! " murmured Lotty. 
 
 " Puir thing, indeed ! ay, bairn ; but I misdoubt grief has 
 turned yer brain, spaking in thon daft Avay." 
 
 "Is she not to be pitied, Mrs. Laird? I think so, for many 
 reasons." 
 
 '• Hoot awa ! set her oop i' the cutty stuil, and I wadna pity 
 her ; she letten yer bonny Philip dee in that awfu way, and no 
 in his bed, like a gude Christian." 
 
 '' But still she is to be pitied," persisted Lotty. " Philip is 
 happy, and what is she ? " 
 
 21
 
 242 Margaret 
 
 " Weel awa ! ye're past my kenning. When div ye think 
 ye'll hear fra your friends ? " 
 
 '• lu three days now, I hope," said Lotty ; "and then you 
 vill lose your phvgue and torment, Mrs. Laird," kissing her. 
 
 " Eh ! bairn, ye hae coaxing ways, and ^vi' a' your queer 
 doings, I am like to Iiave a sair heart when I lose the sight of 
 ye. De ye think they'll send ony body to fetch ye?" 
 
 " O yes ! " said Lotty, smiling. 
 
 *' And did ye tell them to bring ye out widow's mourning? 
 Here's yer husband been buried these ten days, and ye with no 
 crimped cap on your head. lu these outlandish pairts, they 
 dinna ken what decency is ; and though I hae gettin you a guid 
 silk dress of a deep black, with yards o' crape, not in the hail 
 town could I get yer widow's cap." 
 
 " But do you think my curls will go under a cap? " 
 
 " Bairn ! bairn ! dinna be flighty ; we can cut the curls off, 
 but ye maun be decent in yer weeds." 
 
 "Cut off those curls !" said Mr. Laird ; "never. I would 
 rather cut off my leg." 
 
 " Hoot, man ! dinna spoil the bairn, when I am spending xny 
 breath in learning her her duty. But, may be, ye hae sensible 
 friends as will teach ye aright. Ye have nae mither ; have ye 
 an aunt now ? " 
 
 " No," said Lotty. 
 
 "Nor a sister?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nane but men folks?" 
 
 " Yes, I have some aunts-in-law and cousins-in-law." 
 
 " And Avha dive ye think wull come for you? though I wish 
 the day may be far off yet." 
 
 " Perhaps a brother will come, or, perhaps, two ; or it may be 
 one of my imcles, or, probably, a cousin." 
 
 " Och ! set ye up, indeed ; de ye think all the world is ready 
 to gang clattering o'er foreign pairts, after a bit thing like 
 
 you?'' 
 
 " Tlify love me very much." 
 
 " I'm thinking they could nae help it," said Mr. Laird. 
 
 " Now, Alick, dinna flcech lier up any mair, or, may be, she 
 will be ;,'ctting o'er full o' hersel', spite of a' my counsels. But 
 save us ! Avhat's at tlie door? " 
 
 L'jtty ran to the window, as the noise of a carriage was hoard 
 rattling up the street; one look, and she bounded out of the 
 room, down the stairs, out of the door, and when Mrs. Laird
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 243 
 
 looked out after her, she saw her in the arms and embraces of 
 so many people, she lost sight of her " bairn" altogether. 
 
 Outstripping the post by two days, rivalling the wind in their 
 intense desire to get on, the loving Beaiivillians had come for 
 " their girl," 
 
 Mrs. Laird stood in the middle of the best parlor floor. 
 
 " My dear uncle Tom ! Mrs. Laird," said the sweet, thrilling 
 voice, putting the large Beauvillian hand of fine, tall, bluff-look- 
 ing uncle Tom into hers. Uncle Tom nearly shook it off. 
 
 "■ And kind uncle Ned," bringing forward a larger, taller, 
 more radiant uncle Ned, who nearly wrung off the other hand. 
 
 " And my two brothers, Norman and Walter, and cousin 
 Frank ; dear, dear cousin Frank ! how is my Pro. ? " 
 
 And Lotty ran from one to the other, and each one took her 
 up in his great arms, and would have gone on kissing her, if 
 another had not been impatient to have her ; and then, at inter- 
 mediate times, each and all shook hands over and over again 
 with the amazed and astounded Mr. and Mrs. Laird. And then 
 they all shook hands with each other, as if in such a state of 
 congratulation and delight, that it was not to be expressed in 
 any other form. 
 
 " We shall never forget your kindness," said uncle Tom. 
 
 "•Your kindness to our girl, our dearest ti-easure," said uncle 
 Ned, taking up the measure. 
 
 " You demand our everlasting gratitude," exclaimed Walter, 
 going on. 
 
 " I am your servant for life," continued Norman. 
 
 " Really you must excuse me, I am so overpowered ; will you 
 oblige me by shaking hands again ? " Avouud up Mr. Frank. 
 
 So they all start afresh, and then calming down again, they 
 take the chairs offered mechanically by the bewildered hostess, 
 and then they look at, scrutinize, with fond loving eyes, the 
 change in " their girl." 
 
 "bid she look Avell?" 
 
 " Yes ; they thought she did. They all agreed she did not 
 look ill." So they all thanked and shook hands again with the 
 Lairds. 
 
 " Did she look sorrowful? " 
 
 No ; shocking as it is to allow it of our perfect Lotty (though 
 perfect people are very disagreeable), she did not look sorrow- 
 ful. 
 
 On the contrary, her heart seemed to bloom and expand under 
 the cheering, happy influence of her own people. Mrs. Laird
 
 244 MARGARET 
 
 began to think there must be a dozen Lotties in the room, so 
 bright, so t'airy-like did she seem, as she •went from one to the 
 other. 
 
 And amazing was it to the good couple to see how first one 
 great, fine, tall old gentleman -would rise from his chair, and 
 "wallc across the room, apparently only to lay the large hand on 
 the curly head, perhaps lilt up the pretty face and kiss it, and 
 then go back to his chair ; while another rose up and did the 
 very same. Until at last, with abrupt, irrepressible truth, Mrs. 
 Laird's wonder burst out into Avords, — 
 
 " Lord save us ; how ye do love that bairn ! " 
 
 " We do love her," said one and all ; " she is worthy of our 
 love ; she is our girl, our pride, our treasure — we dote on 
 her." 
 
 Then was Lotty kissed again by all ; and the Lairds' hands 
 were again seized and shaken vehemently. 
 
 No word was said of past events, no question asked of how 
 and why. It was enough to the Beauvillians that they had their 
 girl once more their own ; it Avas enough to Lotty that she had 
 five pair of strong, brawny arms, not to be matched in England, 
 that only opened to present her with a home. 
 
 " Nae Avonder," as Mrs. Laird Avhispered to her faithful spouse, 
 "that the bairn Avas unco queer in her Avays." 
 
 But Avlieu tlie good Beauvillians had departed for the night to 
 their hotel, inost reluctant to leave, but most determined in their 
 purpose not to tease the good Lairds Avith their board and lodg- 
 ing, she made Lotty sit on her knee, and looking into her sunny 
 eyes, said, — 
 
 '' Bairn, Avhat are ye made on ! that they great men-folk love 
 yer littli' finger like the breath of Heaven?" 
 
 " 1 do nut know, Mrs. Laird ; but they have ahvays done so, 
 and I love them." 
 
 " I dinna Avonder at it. Else may be I Avad preach ye a ser- 
 mon this night, having such bonny, bright, griefless eyes, and 
 yer husband no in his grave ten days." 
 
 " Dear ma'am, Philip would marry me, and Avould not Avait 
 for me to love my people less, and him more ; and tluxt made us 
 unhappy, iK-cause, ma'am, ah ! because — they arc so good, so 
 true, so kind " 
 
 " Er-li I sirs, they're past CA'crything; dinna ye gang now to 
 be fleeclied up ; ayes me, but Avhat am T saying ; fieeched up, 
 indeed, blessings on the bairn ! I'm thinking yer just a bit 
 angel slipt away from Heaven, and given to them fiiue, heart-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 245 
 
 some folk, as a present for their kindly natures. But me, how 
 they shak honds ; save us ! I'll never recover it. But I see it 
 all the noo. Nae wonder wi' such folk ye could na love dark, 
 gloomy Philip Leigh, wi' a' his grand luiks. My word, when 
 you and they were allthegither in my best parlor, I thought the 
 gracious sun had aye come in at the winder and lighted us all up. 
 Ech ! lassie, the sight o' such folk does ane gude, and the doc- 
 tor's maist demented wi' gladness and pride. Little did we twa 
 think, as we said ye suld hae our blue room, what a treat was 
 in store for us. Whiles I feel out o' myself, and Avhiles I feel 
 just like a drunken body ; but, O, bairn ! we mauna forget the 
 puir lad in his cauld grave." 
 
 That the loving Beauvillians had, for some time, fancied their 
 little Lotty's marriage v.'as concluded with rather more haste 
 than prudence, could not be denied. 
 
 In the first place, unlike themselves, Philip was never glad to 
 see them, never asked them to stay with him. 
 
 In the second place, he never came to see them, or brought 
 their and his Lotty to show with pride and pleasure to all her 
 doting relatives. 
 
 In the third place, he had carried off this treasure, so beloved, 
 without warning, without leave. Certainly they had no right 
 to expect he would consult them ; but it had grated sore in their 
 loving hearts that such an important matter should be done, 
 settled, executed, and not one of them consulted, not one al- 
 lowed to bid her farewell, not even her faithful nurse suffered 
 to accompany her. 
 
 It required all the milk of human kindness, so overflowing in 
 the Beauvillian hearts, to prevent them from thinking of Philip 
 Leigh in a way that was quite uncomfortable to their jovial 
 natures. And nothing but her constant and happy letters pre- 
 vented the milk from turning sour, and overwhelming Philip 
 Leigh with the curds. Not that they had wholly left their 
 darling Lotty to the care of one, about whom they were quite 
 vmhappy not to think as highly of as they did of the rest of the 
 world. For, unknown to her or Philip, a faithful Beauvillian 
 had travelled after them, and, contenting himself with seeing that 
 she looked well and happy, had returned again with the news to 
 his anxious brethren. 
 
 It was contrary to their open, frank natures to ask any 
 questions, or to appear to pry into things that were not brought 
 under their immecMate eyes, so that they felt but little more than 
 21*
 
 246 MARGARET 
 
 a va<;uo notion, their Lotty liad belter be under the care of the 
 smallest, most insignifieaut Beaiivillian, than "vvedded to the 
 handsome, distinguished-looking Philip Leigh. 
 
 Now, they were so happy to have her once more their own, 
 it was enough for them. 
 
 Philip might have been imkind, morose, dull, but he was dead. 
 Tlie grave was sacred to them, and whatever feeling they might 
 have had, was only expi-essed by the perversity Avith which they 
 one and all seemed to think she was still Miss Beauvilliers. 
 And when convicted of their mistake by the servant saying no 
 such person liad any boxes there, no one was in the house of 
 that name, they only said in excuse, " Ah ! we mean Lotty." 
 
 While making preparations for her return home, which was 
 to be immediate, both on account of their anxiety to restore her 
 at once to her people, and because of some little domestic event 
 about to happen in Mr. Frank's family — Lotty heard all the 
 news of everybody. 
 
 " My dearest Georgiua insisted upon my coming, though I 
 felt that even you, dear Lotty, would have forgiven me, had I 
 so far restrained my impatient feelings on account of Georgina's 
 interesting situation. But Avhcn we received your letter, Avhen 
 we felt that you must be brought home, brought home properly ; 
 though at first there were far too raanv of us who had settled to 
 come, my dearest Georgina said, ' You must be one of those 
 chosen, you must go to our darling Lotty ; for if you don't, you 
 shall not have the girl you wish ibr.' Think of my dear Georgiua 
 saying that ! she did, indeed ; and I thanked her from my heart. 
 And whether she gives me a girl or not, I shall be grateful to 
 Georgina all my life for permitting me to be one of the favored, 
 happy few to escort you home, dear Lotty." 
 
 The Beauvillians created quite a sensation in Ilomberg. They 
 visited Lottv's old lodgings, and left substantial marks of tlieir 
 having boon there, to the inhabitants thereof. They went to see 
 the good old Bonne, and besides giving her such a donation that 
 she had never before beheld so much money at one time, they 
 emptied a shop of its bonbons, and distributed them among tlie 
 children under hor charge, wiio had contributed, though in so 
 small a degree, to their Lotty's happiness. But they thereby 
 cudaugerod their lives for Aveeks to come, except that children's 
 stomachs are, through some wise provision, made to contain an 
 incredible auiomit of sugar-phuus. 
 
 As for the good Lairds, it seemed to them that some genial 
 spirit had taken entire and full possession of their house, while
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 247 
 
 the beaming presence of the fine felloAvs remained there. And 
 tlie gratitude llicy expressed ! Besides perpetual shaking of 
 hands (indeed, if he had only been encouraged, Mr. Frank 
 looked as if lie could gladly salute the chaste but withered cheek 
 of Mrs. Laird), the -whole set of Beauvillians, in full conclave, 
 presented Mr. and Mrs. Laird with a very handsome present in 
 money to indemnify them for all the trouble and anxiety they 
 must have had with their Lotty. 
 
 Not that they believed she was a trouble or anxiety, or that 
 Mr. and Mrs. Laird were so foolish as to think they did do so ; 
 but it was just their way, to remove any idea of gi'atitude. 
 
 And, as if that was not enough, each Beauvillian, in secret and 
 privately, presented Mrs. Laird with a present of tlieir own, just 
 as if that one, individually, was more indebted to her kindness 
 than all the others. 
 
 And Avhen she would have expostulated as she received the 
 third secret present, and openly said hov\r she had received tAvo 
 besides, she was not even listened to. 
 
 "Of course, of course — vejy right! I knew my kinsmen 
 would not forget such a duty ; and you must be kind enough to 
 keep our presents as a remembrance of us." 
 
 As if she was ever likely to forget them ! And so all things 
 being ready, after a leave-taking tliat was enough to shake the 
 nerves of the winged Nine\'eh bull, if it had any, Mrs. Laird 
 found herself sitting in the middle of her parlor floor, drowned 
 in tears, and Mr. Laird endangering his limbs and his life, by 
 stretching so far out of the window to take a last look, wave a 
 last adieu. 
 
 But they had not departed without leaving a token of respect, 
 at least, to the memory of the mistaken, self-sacrificed Philip 
 Leisfh. 
 
 Lotty's last act was to put a packet into Mrs. Laird's hand, 
 saying, " You will see a proper monument put up, and every- 
 thing done just as if he Avere your ' bairn.' " 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 Loving and lovely Margaret, with your shadowy form, your 
 ethereal face, your gentle, calm submission, your pure faith, 
 your pious patience, let us return to you.
 
 248 MARGARET 
 
 Basil had found the sea strewn with light floating articles 
 belonging to the " Marguerite," too surely indicating her fate, 
 and selecting from these one or two Avell-known articles, had 
 placed them, as wc have seen, in that abrupt manner before 
 Lady Katheriue. 
 
 There might seem a degree of cruelty in this act, especially as 
 Margaret, all unknowing to him, had witnessed the scene. But 
 they had rightly judged her character ; pity and sorrow for the 
 poor mother made her lock up in her innermost heart the grief 
 and loneliness she was to carry to her grave. She felt that they 
 had meant to shock the mother's feelings for a peculiar purpose, 
 and divined the cause. 
 
 No murmur escaped her lips, no duty was left undone. True 
 to her tmsclfish nature, she urged Gerald with fervor to remove 
 Millicent at once to a warmer climate. Her delicate frame 
 seemed to suffer for those she loved, even more apparently than 
 the mourners themselves. Yet, notwithstanding all this, they 
 saAV Margaret growing thinner and paler every day, presenting 
 the appearance of a living, moving body, but the soul was far 
 away. To Basil it seemed as if in her eyes there always dwelt 
 the scene of the heaving, restless sea, bearing within its bosom 
 that beloved form. 
 
 " She will die, if Ave cannot do something to change her 
 thoughts and feelings. If Lotty were but here now ! " 
 
 " It is strange," said Millicent, " she has never mentioned 
 Lotty. I do not like to do so ; in fact, I dare scarcely speak ; 
 it seems to me that but a cobweb thread holds her life and 
 reason." 
 
 " Yes, her sensitive nature suffers when all is calm ; unlike 
 the violent outpourings of poor Lady Katheriue, that fortunately 
 .weaken themselves by their very vehemence." 
 
 " I am glad Mr. Grey is to live in the house with Lady 
 Katlieriue, she seems to have taken so great a fancy to him." 
 
 " Yes, Milly, so now you and Gerald may leave with comfort ; 
 and the sooner you go, remember, the more you please Marga- 
 ret. I should like when I see her to-dav to say you are aone." 
 
 " Do so, Basil ; for it was but the i)ain of leave-taking tliat 
 has made us linger. We are all ready, and ouly last night 
 agreed it wouM be best to depart in secrecy." 
 
 " Much belter. None of our nerves at present can stand much 
 more strain on them. I will spend an hour or two with Mar- 
 garet, and will then follow you to Liverpool. She will be inter- 
 ested to hear the last news of you."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 249 
 
 It was thus they cared for and thought of their poor stricken 
 jMar2faret. 
 
 "When Basil joined them at Liverpool, he told Millicent that 
 Margaret seemed relieved by knowing they Avere gone, and, 
 taking advantage of the moment, lie had spoken to her of Lotty. 
 
 A slight flush rose on the ■while cheek, the eyes lost that ever- 
 searching, mournful look, but all she said was, " My Lotty will 
 come to me Avhcn she can." 
 
 " Thus, Milly, we can liope for no particular change just yet. 
 "When the little, bright, cl.eerful spirit joins her Margaret, we may 
 expect some good, for she always seemed to divine Avhat her 
 school-wife most love-.!." 
 
 " You will write tu Lotty, Basil?" 
 
 " I hardly think so ; she has enough to bear without. Now, 
 Milly, farewell ; I need scarcely say to you that you have no 
 easy task before you, for Gerald bears within his breast a bruised 
 and contrite heart." 
 
 " You are right, brother. Until he meets Harold face to face 
 before the judgment-throne of God, he will never cease, wliile 
 breath is giveu him, to implore mercy and pardon for the share 
 he thinks he has had in Harold's fate." 
 
 So Margaret's mother came to live with her, and the bleak 
 December passed away, bringing in a stormy, violent January. 
 
 She had been to her nursery to Avatch her fine boy enjoy his 
 dinner ; she had looked into the cot that contained a rosy, sleep- 
 ing babe, Avhose red lip Avas ncA-er to be pressed by a father's 
 kiss ; she had seen her stcAvard, and transacted all her business 
 with him ; she had read to her mother the psalms and lessons of 
 the day ; and Avith the same dreamy air, and quiet, listless man- 
 ner, she called for her bonnet and shawl to take her daily Avalk. 
 
 " The sleet drives in great gusts," remonstrated the nurse ; 
 " you Avill take cold, my lady." 
 
 " I cannot take cold," ansAvered her lady, mechanically. 
 
 " The gardener says there Avill be soon a lieaA-y fall of snoAV, 
 my lady." 
 
 " Does he?" ansAvered Margaret, still as in a dream, while 
 she put on her bonnet. " Do not take the children out, then." 
 
 And she Avent. 
 
 " One Avould suppose she never heeded what I Avas saying," 
 murmured the nurse ; " and yet she must have done so to have 
 remembered the children. The Lord touch her heart Avith life 
 again, for it is sore to see her thus ! " 
 
 Margaret Avent to Eose Leigh, her daily custom. Lady
 
 250 MARGARET 
 
 Catherine, as usual, received her as if tliey had not met for 
 years, installed her in her own chair, and hovered about her as 
 a loving hen guards the one nestling left her. Pru. was in an 
 excited state to-day, and had a great deal to tell Margaret. la 
 fact, ever since the departure of Mr. and jNIrs. Herbert, and the 
 arrival of ]Mr. Grey, Pru. had been growing more and more 
 enigmatical in her conduct. And had Margaret ever heard the 
 episode of the curate, absorbed as she was, she must have no- 
 ticed Pru.'s manner. 
 
 " I have heard from dear Georgina," said Pru. " Frank has 
 left her for a short time." 
 
 " Indeed," answered ^NTargarot, 
 
 " Mr. Grey is so much liked among the people, my dear 
 daughter," said Lady Katherine. 
 
 " Ah ! " answered Margaret, unheeding Pru.'s violent blush. 
 
 " There are snow drops appearing already, dear Margaret, 
 cold as the weather is." 
 
 " Is it cold?" said Margaret. 
 
 " Mr. Grey said it Avas bitterly cold," continued Lady Kath- 
 erine, " and he is the best judge of weather I know." 
 
 Again Pru. flushed and grew pale. 
 
 " Shall I walk back with you, dear Margaret? " 
 
 " If you please," was her quiet answer. 
 
 Duriug this walk, which lasted much longer than from Rose 
 Leigh to Court Leigh, Pru.'s excitement broke out into one 
 incessant chatter, in which a certain pronoun, he, was mixed up 
 with everything on which she discoursed, and which on less un- 
 heeding ears would have divulged poor Pru.'s secret. Once only 
 did ^Margaret show interest. 
 
 " It was Lotty's doing, all dear, darling Lotty's plan," said 
 Pru. 
 
 " "What plan? " asked Margaret. 
 
 " Why," answered Pru., bhisliing vehemently, at being asked 
 a question she did not expect, "■ that he came." 
 
 " My Lotty came? " asked Margaret, in perplexity. 
 
 " No, no, though I wish in my heart she had, then all woidd 
 go right ; but it snows hard now, dear Margaret, so I will run 
 home, as you must go in." 
 
 Margaret did not go in, she liked the wild weather ; it brought 
 a pulse of life in her heart to watch the wintry elements. They 
 scenjed typical of her own withered hopes. 
 
 " Lotty," she said to herself, unconsciously, " my Lotty ! I 
 wish she would come. It seems to me, her presence would
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 251 
 
 prove to me like the first snowdrop of spring, seen in this win- 
 try weather. Ah ! Lotty, if you were here, perhaps you could 
 devise some means by which I could visit tliat spot, behold with 
 my own eyes if the sea can give me up no message from her 
 dead. If I could have something ; even in the hour of utmost 
 danger, he would have written to his j\Iargaret, he would have 
 sent me some last directions safely enclosed within some floating 
 casket. I know, I feel sure there is such, and if Lotty were 
 here — - " 
 
 " She is here, Queen Margaret, these are her arms round you, 
 her kisses pouring on you — but stay — say nothing, speak not 
 to her, for there is your treasure, your message from tlie dead. 
 Your Lotty would have been here before, but that she knew 
 what her Margaret wanted. She went, she sought, she has 
 found it. Take it, sweetest, dearest mourner ! Basil was the 
 real discoverer, your Lotty only the diviner ; now, here, in the 
 little s\immer-house, you will be alone, unwatched, unseen. 
 God bless my Margaret ! " 
 
 And Lotty, placing in Margaret's trembling hands an oil-skin 
 packet, directed to her, kissed her cheek with passionate fond- 
 Bess, and left her alone. 
 
 First Lotty went to the nursery, and kissing young Harold, 
 took her little goddaughter in her arms, and said, " This is my 
 child, nurse." 
 
 " God be praised for it, ma'am ! and, more than all, that you 
 have come back. We have looked for no change in our dear 
 lady xmtil you could arrive." 
 
 " God has been very good in giving me the power to bring 
 her a last token of remembrance from her husband." 
 
 " Heaven be praised ! 'twas all she wanted." And the tears 
 fell in showers from the good nurse's eyes. 
 
 Lotty now went across, spite of the driving snow, to Rose 
 Leigh. She peeped in at the window, and saw Lady Katheriue, 
 with her feet and nose comfortably near the fire, knotting away 
 with an indefatigable perseverance worthy a great cause. On 
 the other side of the fire, equally comfortable, sat a gentleman ! 
 The sound of his strong, sonorous voice came through the win- 
 dow ; he was reading aloud. Rather behind her mother sat 
 Pru., who ought to have been knotting; " but ! " as- Lotty 
 upbraided her afterwards, " her knotting was on the floor, and 
 she was gazing, unabashed, on the face of a young man, not 
 more than forty years of age." 
 
 Lotty went quietly into the room, but Pru. was not so ab- 
 sorbed in her occupation as to forget old friends.
 
 252 MARGARET 
 
 " Dearest, dear Lotty ! you liavc returned to us at last ; " and 
 the knotting became inextricably entangled in the legs of two 
 chairs, as Pni. sprung nimbly round them, to embrace her. 
 
 Y\'ilh toucliing, childlike feeling. Lady Katherine looked at 
 the little girlish thing, and .said, " My dear, don't kiss me, do 
 not be kind to me, for I am a very unworthy, wicked woman ! 
 I love to sec your sweet face again ; we have been longing for 
 you, but I have widowed your Margaret ; I, I have broken her 
 heart. O, my son, my son, my only son ! " 
 
 " But I will kiss my Margai-et's mother thus and thus, and I 
 love Harold's mother as if she were my own, and I bring her 
 the greatest comfort she can now have, a last fond letter from 
 her son, full of love and forgiveness, I know." 
 
 " Where? — O, where? — let me sec the blessed words ! " 
 
 " INIargaret has the letters ; we must leave her alone with her 
 treasure as yet." 
 
 " O, Lotty ! how did you get them ? " asked Pru. 
 
 " Basil has written to me constantly all the news from here, 
 and all he knew of tliat fatal night. He felt that some of these 
 days Margaret might like to know every particular ; then I 
 should be able to tell her, or to show her the letters. He has 
 collected every paper, every account, every circumstance that 
 occurred to our Harold from the time he left home, luitil that 
 fatal Thursday night. From that time he has given me a his- 
 tory of his own voyage, when Gerald accompanied him. Again of 
 a second one, when he discoveicd the fatal truth, and found those 
 few sad remains ; and among other things that he has collected, 
 is the figure-head of the ' Marguerite.' The instant I knew this, 
 I called to mind several tilings that I had heard poor Harold 
 say of this figure-head. How he had had infinite pains taken 
 "with it, so that it should resemble Margaret in attitude^nd face. 
 How he should consider it as his guardian angel, and that it 
 might indeed prove so to him, for it Avas constructed in a pecu- 
 liar manner. Further, I remember in particular, he said, — 
 ' The image of my Margaret shall never be destroyed or Avreckcd. 
 It siuill float, though all the rest of the vessid is riven in pieces ; ' 
 eo on my roud home, we appointed Basil to meet us at Cowes, 
 and there, in the ' Ripple,' Avas laid all that remained of the ill- 
 fated • ^Marguerite' " 
 
 '' Proceed, dear, dear Lotty ; O. finish your tale ! " 
 
 The heroic little Lolty was stifling her tears. 
 
 '' Tiie figure-head of the ship was so like my Margaret; her 
 small, graceful head just turned and bent, as if in the act of lis^
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 253 
 
 tening ; the slight hands touching, half laced together by the 
 fingers, her own peculiar attitude, as you know. But Basil won- 
 dered why I examined it so minutely. 
 
 " ' See, Basil,' I said, 'it has not been separated from the ship 
 by violence or blows. It has been carefully unscrewed and sent 
 adrift.' 
 
 " ' You are right, Lotty,' he answered, ' and these hollow 
 tubes must have gone through the beams. The screws must 
 have penetrated to the cabin, or been fastened from there.' 
 
 " ' And unfastened again. Let us sound it, it is almost hollow 
 within.' " 
 
 " Suffice it to say, we found a spring, which opened to us the 
 hollow cavity, that, filled with air, caused the figure-head to float 
 so buoyantly when all heavier things w^ere swallowed up in 
 those shifting sands. And within was also Harold's last mes- 
 saore to Margaret. I have brought it and given it to her." 
 
 " Ah, Lotty ! best Lotty, you are well-named, but my son can 
 send nothing but upbraidings to his mother. Nevertheless I 
 will meekly receive them ; if my poor, dear, widowed Margaret 
 forgives me, and has fond messages to her from his watery 
 grave, I shall be very grateful to a merciful God. It will be 
 quite as much as I deserve." 
 
 " God afflicts none more than they are able to bear, dear Lady 
 Katherine," said Mr. Grey. 
 
 " I feel that ; nay, I know it. "What ought I not to suffer? 
 yet how am I blessed ! " 
 
 " I am very glad to find Mr.Grey is living with you," said Lotty. 
 
 " Under God's blessing, he has saved my soul, dear Lotty ! 
 from very sinful murmurings and despair. I was almost lost in 
 every way, for my Margaret was too good to me." 
 
 " He is very good and kind to us both," murmured Pru., 
 blushing violently. 
 
 " I am very glad to hear he is kind to you," whispered Lotty 
 back again. "^ 
 
 With all her tender heart and melting sorrow, some things 
 bewitched little Lotty into being mischievous. 
 
 "When shall I see my Margai'et ?" began Lady Katherine, 
 with nervous tremor. 
 
 " We must not disturb her," answered Lotty ; " when she is 
 calm, she will join us. If she has comfort to bestow, so much 
 the sooner will she come." 
 
 " How well you know her character," said Mr.Grey; "it 
 seems strange that one so faultless should be thus tried." 
 22
 
 254 MARGARET 
 
 " Pure gold is tried in the fire," nnswercd Lotty. 
 
 " Lotty," i?aid Lady Ivatlicriue, abruptly, " where is Philip?" 
 
 The little childish thing looked up with amazement for a 
 moment — then she glanced at her black dress. 
 
 " I thought I heard he was ill, dead," contimied Lady Kath- 
 erine ; *• but I ana grown so selfish, so absorbed, you must for- 
 give me, dear child. You have no wliite cap on your head like 
 my 3Iargaret : your pretty curls are as usual ; I trust he may 
 be spared to you, poor, little, young thing I " 
 
 The color deepened in Lotty's cheeks until they bloomed like 
 winter roses. Then she said, — 
 
 " I have come home to be once more Margaret's little school- 
 husbaml, for we are both alone now ; God has taken Philip 
 Leigh to his rest." 
 
 In the little summer-house did the widowed Margaret read 
 this letter, a message sent by the sea from her dead. 
 
 " Margaret ! what is this I have to do ? I have written to 
 you before. Thank God! I Avrote from Jersey; a letter — 
 such a letter as I ought to "write to my Margaret. And now 
 but a few days are passed since that Avas penned and sent ; and 
 in this scrawled, blotted, stained sheet of paper, you are to take 
 my last message, the only letter you will ever receive from the 
 Harold you loved so well, the last token of his love for you. 
 
 " O Fate ! Fate ! could you pour no other vial of Avrath on my 
 devoted head? "NVas the measure of my sins so great, that I 
 Avas to bear for three days (each a lifetime) alternate hope and 
 despair ; gleams of strength and resignation ; hours of horror 
 and remorse ; every feeling that can lacerate the lunnan heart, 
 yet bid it hope against hope ; was I to bear all this Avith a man's 
 ■weak 8]:irit, only to learn that death is about to part me and 
 thee, Margaret? One man on board — but one — announces 
 that nothing can save us. But he is the only experienced sailor 
 Ave have, and my reason bids nj^ feel and know that his Avords 
 are true. I see the drift of the under-current, ignorant sailor as 
 I am. T Avatcli the light articles tossed over ; they all float one 
 Avay, to a doom that is inevitable. Let me collect my thoughts, 
 let me strive to take leave of my Margaret as befits her husband. 
 An in-esistiljlc im])nlse bids nic write ; all these three days it 
 lias urg(Ml me likf the shai-p prii-k of consciencte. T obey ; inco- 
 herent, hasty, desponding and despairing us my Avords may be, I 
 Avrite to Margand, my Avife, my fond, loving Avife ! O God ! 
 Avilt thou not hear my prayer? Let me see her again, for her
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 255 
 
 own sweet sake, not mine. One word, one look, 'tis all I ask. 
 A slight i)i-eparatiou ! she can have none ; it is impossible : naked, 
 plain, in all its stern truth, the fact ^^ ill be told her, as in a 
 breath, ' Your Harold is dead, drowned — drowned in the very 
 yessel he made your rival ! ' How she will feel for nie ! how 
 she will gasp and say, ' lu any other way, O God ! I could have 
 borne it better ; but not from his own wilfulness, not his own 
 headstrong will.' 
 
 " But, Margaret, I can comfort you there. 'Tis true, my 
 mother's letter di'ove me away. I expected an answer from 
 you to that I wrote from Jersey — (I love to think upon that 
 letter, it was a fitting one for you) — and I received hers ; only 
 that one from my mother, and a message from you in it. A 
 newspaper, too, Avitli that lie ! those lies ! Did you believe 
 them? O, no! no! mad, fierce, wild as was my passion, in 
 the midst of all it drove me to do, one small voice would repeat, 
 ' Margaret loves you ! Margaret trusts you ! why care for 
 others ? ' 
 
 " But I must needs get away into the wide, open sea, out of 
 sight of land ; that land, which held so true and fond a Avife and 
 mother ! So I gave the order, and when we were many hours 
 away, I went on deck to breathe and think. The wind blew in 
 fitful gusts — it cooled my brain. Suddenly, a sweeping, soft 
 air came rushing by, as if stirred by angels' wings, and a voice 
 seemed to speak to my heart, — 
 
 " ' Remember Margaret's state. Think of her tender, sensi- 
 tive nature. The word that attainted her Harold's name would 
 be as a sword entering her heart.' 
 
 "And so, Margaret, as if the touch of the Saviour had driven 
 the demon from his hold, and the holy words had dismissed and 
 rebuked him, did I become calm and in my right mind. I gave 
 the order to return at once, and went down to my cabin and 
 thanked God. I then saw it all. My mother so angry ; my 
 Margaret so hurt with her ; perhaps she had, all unfit as she 
 was, travelled to Cowes, to meet and console, and love more 
 fondly than ever, her wayward, but not wicked, Hai'old — her 
 traduced, foully-slandered Harold. But a fear crept in silently, 
 fixedly, the shock might have been too much. My Margaret is 
 so very tender, so sensitive for her Harold, Perhaps she had 
 gone already to heaven, taking with her a little, blighted blos- 
 som. Perhaps those two stars were her seraph eyes, beaming 
 down on me, and bidding me prepare. Those stars I saw but 
 three nights ago. If so, Death, I welcome thee, hideous as thou
 
 256 MARGARET 
 
 hast presented thyself. I am calmer. I Avas going to comfort 
 you ; perhaps there is no need for me to do so ; but my mother 
 — poor mother ! she meant nothing, I know. If I had reached 
 home ■vvithin an hour after sending tliat letter, I should still 
 have been her dear son. So I wish it known to all, that not on 
 me rests the sin of hurrying all these unprepared souls to their 
 last account. 
 
 "I said I gave the order for the ship to return, and went 
 down to my cabin. My company were not congenial to my 
 present thoughts, and I remained for many hours ; until I 
 thouirht we miLrht see lis^hts on the island. 
 
 " All was wild, dark, stormy ; a desert of sea and waves. 
 
 " ' "When shall we reach Cowes ? ' I asked of the helmsman. 
 
 " ' Cowes ! we had a second order from you, through one of 
 the young ladies, to keep our course for Holland.' 
 
 " So, Margaret, they did it. Let them weep and Avail. Let 
 them upbraid and weary Heaven Avith their cries ; on their oavti 
 shoulders rests their doom. 
 
 " They thought I Avas actuated by Avhim, in going out to 
 sea ; they had a whim not to return. Thus are AVe lost through 
 folly. 
 
 " And Mr. Clare ; to him we owe it that Ave have so poor 
 a creAv, a captain utterly Aveak and incapable, ignorant even to 
 my OAvn extent of nautical matters. But one man on board 
 knows these fatal sands. A greater man than I am once es- 
 caped them. "Why should not Ave? I must hope. God ueA'er 
 gave me such a gift as Margaret — to tear me from her thus. 
 And yet I valued her not. O God ! if I see her once again — 
 if I hold her once more in these arms, second to thee only shall 
 she be ! She Avill teach me to Avorship and praise thee. Poor 
 Gerald ! Tell him the promise has come true — ' He has cast 
 his bread upon the Avaters, it Avill not return to him Aoid.' I 
 remember scoflhig at his text — ' Make Thou Thy servant to 
 delight in that Avhich is good.' But useless for me is that prayer 
 noAV, though it haunts me. But a few hours more, the old 
 
 seaman says The sliip drives heavily. ]\Iargaret, I Avould 
 
 not thiit you sliould think these blurred, unsteady lines are other 
 than accidental. Your Harold is calm. Hope may be depart- 
 ing, but God is at the helm. I think again of Gerald, and say, 
 * Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and 
 am no more Avorthy to be called thy son ; ' but forgive me ! O, 
 forgive me ! 
 
 " Thus do I pray, at eAory moment that I do not pray for thee.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 257 
 
 *' I have been on deck. In a vain hope to aid ns, for want 
 of coal, we have burned every available thing within the ship. 
 Doors, partitions, all are gone. We group together, for we 
 cannot separate. Xone can go hide their grief and despair ; 
 nakedly shown before us all are the different phases of woe in 
 all their human weakness. 
 
 '^ My companions gaze on me, preparing these papers — my 
 will — for you, fond wife. They derive comfort from my calm- 
 ness, thinking the wild scene above is but a hideous di-ama, in 
 which they take no part. Poor Miss Clare ! Poor Augusta ! — 
 she beseeches me to save her ; and calls upon you, my Mar- 
 garet, to hear her vows and promises. Never more will she 
 give you one moment's uneaoiness — never more will she see or 
 speak to me again. I believe her there ; but I smile in pity at 
 her words. My Margaret knew all her Harold's sins and weak- 
 nesses ; I thank God I have nothing to confess. She upbraids 
 me as the cause of their impending doom ; again I thank God, 
 and so must you, Margaret ; not only is my soul free (for even 
 her companions chide her for her words) from this charge, but 
 He who sees into all hearts knows I Avould freely give my life 
 for hers, so unlit is she to die, while I rest in the hope of the 
 thief on the cross. 
 
 " Mv buy ! Make him the Harold I ouorht to have been. 
 With his mother near him, I know his father's name will be 
 green in his memory evermore. 
 
 " If God has given you a fatherless child, Margaret, take it 
 into your innermost heart, as your Harold's last gift. 
 
 "You have much to do, fond, loving wife — loving, idolized, 
 adored JNIargaret — my estates to redeem, my people to reform, 
 my name to clear, until it is second to none in honor and truth. 
 Margaret will do this ere I see her again. God help and sup- 
 port me ! These people moan, and shriek, and cry, but Avho 
 among them has to leave a Margaret ? 
 
 " Agam I have staggered on deck. A little sloop rides on 
 every crested wave tAvo miles astern. I fear for her ; but the 
 old mate says she can float in safety where we cannot go. I 
 feel strangely interested in her ; she is the last earthly thing on 
 Avliich my eyes will rest ; she will, most probably, witness our 
 fate. Evening closes, but we will burn blue lights. Haply, 
 Avhen she sees theiu suddenly extinguished and hears the wild 
 cry of drowning agony, some pious heart on board will say, 
 ' God have mercy on their souls ! ' 
 
 " I told you, in mv letter from Jersey, of a young girl who 
 22*
 
 258 MARGARET 
 
 was of our company, a cousin of Miss Clare's, a little, delicate, 
 fair thing. On our first danger she grew pale and Avhite ; but 
 during this lifetime of alternate hope and despondency (which 
 has made your Harold's hair turn tlius, Margaret — see, I have 
 cut otf your favorite lock — by the Avhite hairs so suddenly 
 strewn in it, think, wife, how your Harold mourns for you, 
 bereft and lonely) — during this time, I say, that young girl has 
 uttered no cry, has made no moan. She followed me every- 
 where with her large, sad eyes and wistful face ; and, as if in 
 answer to my questioning look, whether I could do aught for 
 her, said, — ' Fray, let me stay near you ; it does me good, and 
 strengthens mc to see you.' 
 
 " For very sad, my Margaret, is it to see the others ; those 
 who ought to be their nearest and dearest comforters have 
 blindly drowned their sense of danger in Avine. 'Tis a pitiable 
 sight. I know you will be glad to think I had a little gentle 
 spirit near me, to whom I could do some good. I have written, 
 at her dictation, a letter to her sister, the only near relation she 
 has in the world, and whom she disobeyed, coming on this ill- 
 I'ated voyage — that is, she came against her sister's wishes, who 
 is much older than herself, and avIio docs not love the Clares. 
 The innocent child thinks her dreadful death a proper judgment 
 on her. She says her sister is poor, and was made still more 
 so by her efforts to afford every pleasure and good she was 
 able to this little sister. 
 
 " ' Now,' she says, ' she will be free from me, and need go 
 out to teach no more ; but she will sadly mourn and Aveep for 
 me, and who will comfort her?' 
 
 " ' My INIargaret Avill,' I answered. 
 
 " ' Then I have no other care,' she said. ' If I may hold 
 your hand, as Ave go doAvn, I will neither shriek nor cry, sir, or 
 struggle. God Avill be good to me, and take my soul at the first 
 rush of the Avater ! ' 
 
 " So now the hour comes. A shock sends a trembling thrill, 
 as if of life, through every timber of ' the Marguerite.' Loud 
 and shrill rise those shrieks of agony and despair ! Poor 
 Augusta! uuhapjjy creature ! she knoAvs not Avhiit she says so 
 wildly. Her sister-in-law falls fainting back : that yuung, quiet 
 child kncL'ls by my side and prays ! 
 
 " Comfort my pour mother. 
 
 "And now to put up this packet. Margaret, my fond, SAveet, 
 loving Margaret ! your Lotty will bring you these Avords — your 
 best Lotty. I remember telling her my plan that the guardian
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 259 
 
 angel of my ship sliould_ float, did all else perish. She knows 
 you will not live without your Harold's adieu. So, take it 
 — take ray last fond blessing, and, with it, ackuoAvledge that, 
 however dreadful my fate, however hard my doom, yet can I 
 bear it all ; for, through the mercy of my God and Saviour, I 
 hope to meet my wife in heaven ! " 
 
 ^ ^ ^ ^ ^|f 
 
 None may lift the veil that shrouds such mourners, for the 
 weak lauffuafje of man is unfitted to describe their o;rief. 
 
 It was the fourteenth of February. Lotty had met Basil in 
 the cedar walk, to give him the daily accovmt of Margaret. 
 
 "Will she ever recover, Lotty?" asked he mournfully. 
 
 " Yes ; Harold bid her live ; she will do it." 
 
 " It is your birth-day, Lotty," said he. 
 
 " Yes. I wish I was dead ! " 
 
 "Nay, Lotty, what could we do without you? Margaret 
 would have died but for you." 
 
 " Have you settled all about that old Miss Clare?" 
 
 " Yes ; she is now at the Rectory, and seems weU fitted to 
 take charge of it until my sister comes home." 
 
 "And how does she seem?" 
 
 " Why, Lotty, she appears to have been very fond of that 
 little sister, and " 
 
 " Refuses to be comforted, of course ; mourns like us all." 
 
 " But she is a good Avoman, Lotty, and says she will make no 
 unworthy moan, for God has comforted her, only the shock was 
 great," 
 
 " I suppose I must go and see her." 
 
 " Yes, Lotty, and read the little sister's letter ; but not 
 to-day, for you have a birth-day sad enough already." 
 
 " I wish to have no more ; this world is too sorrowful and bad 
 to live in." 
 
 " Do not quit it yet a while, Lotty ; we have much for you to 
 do ; besides. Bear would die of grief — to say nothing of others." 
 
 " I'll bequeath Bear to you, but now I must return to Mar- 
 garet." 
 
 " First tell me, Lotty, does she take an interest in any- 
 thing?" 
 
 " Yes, she reads Harold's letters all day, and looks at and 
 touches that half black, half white, curl." 
 
 " Does she speak to you, Lotty? " 
 
 " Yes, she says drowning cries pierce her ears, and she sees 
 stormy waves and drowning people when she shuts her eyes."
 
 260 MARGARET 
 
 '■Ah, don't, Lotty ; you harrow my very heartstrings." 
 
 "■Then don't ask Ibolisli qui'<{iou5." 
 
 " Nay, just a few more. Does she see her children? " 
 
 " Yes, she weeps over them, until I have to send them 
 away." 
 
 " Does she think of you, Lotty, and love you as ever?" 
 
 " Yes, when she reads Harold's letter." 
 
 " Does she talk much of him, and mention his name?" 
 
 " She speaks of nothing else, and says no other name." 
 
 " How long is this to last, Lotty ? " 
 
 " Just as long as she chooses, so good-by." 
 
 Tiie next day Lotty came springing to meet Basil, with a step 
 that showed her heart was lighter. 
 
 " Do you know, Basil, she remembered it was my birth-day, 
 and thought it so sad I should bo but eighteen, yet a widow ; — 
 as if she were much older. And she called to mind, of her own 
 accord, how my father used to send the cart into Bath, laden 
 with good things, and presents for the whole school, on my 
 birth-dav, and she smiled ; it was her first smile, but so sad, so 
 ■svan '-" 
 
 " Do not weep, Lotty ! you see you are to be her best earthly 
 comforter, yet." 
 
 "And, Basil, she asked al)out Miss Rachael Clare, and said, 
 you always fixed upon the right thing for everybody." 
 
 " And what more did she say?" 
 
 " Why, she said, that is, she feared she had been very 
 selfish " 
 
 "How, Lotty?" 
 
 "About me?" 
 
 " I do not understand ; pray explain." 
 
 " I have nothing to explain, Basil : only she seemed to 
 remember I ought to be in grief, or I was in grief, and that she 
 ought to comfort mo, and all that." 
 
 Basil tried to catch a glimpse of Lotty's face, but failed. 
 
 " You know, Lotty, you did wrong to marry." 
 
 " No one suffered but myself." 
 
 " Dearest Lotty ! who could have had the heart to give you 
 pain?" 
 
 " I only pained myself." 
 
 " r>ut poor Philii)'s greatest fault " 
 
 " Was loving mo too mucli," interrupted Lotty, quickly. 
 
 " I do not wonder at it," exclaimed Basil, abruptly. Then 
 recovering himself, he raised her liand to iiis lips, with the air
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 261 
 
 of a courtier saluting his rightful queen, saying, low and soft, 
 " True, loyal wife." 
 
 Lotty received the truth and the compliment with a very 
 sedate air, as if it were nothing to her what Basil thought or 
 said. 
 
 "Now when do you intend to go to your own home?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Are you tired of me?" he answered. 
 
 " Not at all ; only, as time alone can now help Margaret, it is 
 useless your moping about here, when, perhaps, you are much 
 wanted at home. I feel sure Hugh and Brian wish we all had 
 been drowned together ; and so do I, for the matter of that." 
 
 " If you think I can be of no further good, I Avill gladly 
 return home ; for though my boys have no such base thoughts as 
 you mention, especially as regards yourself, they really do 
 require me." 
 
 " Then, good-by." 
 
 " Nay, be not so impatient to be rid of me — you will write 
 tome?" 
 
 " Yes, once a week." 
 
 " Then I shall come down between each letter, to inquire 
 after you all." 
 
 " I will write twice a week, then." 
 
 *' I presume I must be content with that : and if you want 
 
 me " 
 
 " I'll telegraph, or send Bear." 
 
 " Very good : you will write the first letter to-morrow ? " 
 " No, the day after." 
 
 "You will think of me, Lotty, far away from you all? " 
 " Yes, as very happy with your brothers." 
 "As very unhappy, until I see you again." 
 " Time will mend that, as you must not come for six 
 months." 
 
 " Luckily I shall be wanted in less than three. I am little 
 Harold's guardian." 
 
 " Then I will amuse myself by spoiling him to give you some 
 trouble." 
 
 " Good-by, Lotty ! do what you please, I am of Brian and 
 Hugh's opinion, you cannot do wrong." 
 
 " Good-by, Basil ; Heaven send you better judgment. Shake 
 hands, Bear, like a gentleman, for Basil is going away." 
 
 The day after Basil reached home, he received a letter from 
 Lotty, as follows : —
 
 262 MARGARET 
 
 " I AM obliged to write to you, Basil, because Margaret 
 wisbes it ; sbe says sbe uould like to liave seen you before you 
 ■\veut, but I know better, so do not grieve about that. A little 
 more strain on her nerves, and they would break, and you are 
 so foolishly tender-hearted, yoix would never bear up as I do. 
 
 *" I am also to tell you, she wants her image, that guardian 
 angel of the ' Marguerite,' you know. We left it in the 
 ' Ripple ; ' ^ might have known she would wish to have it, 
 without troubling her to ask for it. Also, you are to find out if 
 ever the drowned are washed up off those sands ; and further, 
 every particular about the storm — how many vessels were lost, 
 and how many souls went down. And please to collect all that 
 the new.^papers said. You know we have carefully kept the 
 siglit of tiiem from her, and she bids me ask you to keep them 
 all, — for the time may come when she Avill take a melancholy 
 pleasure in looking at them ; and for the sake of the children, no 
 incident relative to their father ought to be lost. But pray 
 answer this letter to her : it is better for us both. She can read 
 your letter to herself, and as for me, my heart is not stone. The 
 Beauvillians are good lovers, l)ut indifferent mourners : they 
 know not how to be unhappy. If they lose a friend or brother 
 by death, they say, ' He was good and Avorthy ; he has gone 
 liome, where we shall soon follow.' If misfortunes come upon 
 one, the others flock round and say, ' Here, brother, take of ours ; 
 we have enough, and to spare.' If sickness and pain afllict any, 
 ' Ha ! ' say they, ' in the next Avorld we shall sutler nothing.' 
 
 " You must know, Basil, she has smiled again. Il was at a 
 letter from my cousin Frank. I would send it to you, but really 
 his paternal felicities are not fit to be seen by any but very 
 friendly eyes. The newspapers will tell you of his happiness. 
 I am going to sec Miss Rachel. The name of Clare gives me 
 the sliivers. Young Harold cried for something this morning; 
 mindful of your responsibilities, I gave it to him. — Bear's 
 love. Tliis letter is written by a disconsolate being, called 
 
 LoTTY." 
 
 Though Basil is not to see Mr. Frank's letter, the reader 
 phall have a peep at it for old acquaintance' sake. 
 
 ''Mr KKAHKST LoTTY : 
 
 " ^ly I)eloved Georgina, Avith the fortitude only possessed 
 by her sex, has nnule me the most delighted of men as well 
 as the iiappiest father. You remember how kindly she in- 
 eisted upon my coming for you, and threatened me with a cer-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 263 
 
 tain pvinisliment if I did not accede to her wishes ; and now my 
 darling Georgina has fulfilled her promise, made so sweetly to 
 me, even better than she said she would, for at half-past three 
 on Sunday morning (just before the propitioiis llth of Feb- 
 ruary) she made me the happy father of the sweetest little girl 
 you ever saw, and within half an hour she presented me with 
 another equally charming. 
 
 " You will allow, dear Lotty, that my feelings naturally would 
 be very much overcome, and will therefore excuse a longer letter, 
 and that I mix nothing of sorrow and sympathy in one announ- 
 cing such an auspicious event. 
 
 " I will only further say, the beloved mother and sweet babea 
 are doing charmingly, and just now my dearest Georgina whis- 
 pered to me, one little daughter should be called Lotty, and I 
 said, in answer, the other should be Georgina, for we had had 
 our little dispute about the name ; most fortunately settled by 
 the never-to-be-sufhciently-praised conduct of my dearest wife in 
 presenting me with two lovely girls. 
 
 " Your most happy, overcome kinsman, 
 
 "Frank Beaitvilliers." 
 
 " Poor, dear Pro. ! " said Margaret. 
 
 *' The Beauvillians will be rampant," answered Lotty. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 There was something remarkably pleasing about Mr. Grey : 
 without being handsome, there was a mixture of intellect, sense, 
 and good humor in his countenance, that attracted attention, 
 and warmed the heart towards him. His manner was uniformly 
 lively and cheerful, yet never obtrusive ; m fact, he had the gift 
 of always appearing at the right moment, and always saying the 
 most appropriate word. 
 
 Long ago, in younger days, when his kind heart was enthusi- 
 astic as well as kind, he had felt a warm interest in the poor 
 Miss Leighs. Like little, uncomplaining doves in a cage, they 
 cooed through their dull, monotonous lives in as unobtrusive a 
 manner as they could ; hemmed in by forms and ceremonies, 
 they hardly knew that there was any other existence by which 
 the many little tendernesses of their hearts could be occupied.
 
 264 MARGARET 
 
 Yet Mr. Grey had in the short period of their acquaintance dis- 
 covered tliat both were well furuislicd with gentle, kind natures, 
 only waiting to bud forth on fitting reason, and wanting nothing 
 but opportunity to blossom into full fragrance. 
 
 IMiss Leigh, in particular, appeared to him so peculiarly fitted 
 to render a sensible and atrectiouate man happy, that he had 
 begun to question himself as to the propriety of seeking her 
 society further, without any reasonable hope of gaining his 
 wishes, when Lady Ivathcrine put a sudden and peremptory 
 finale to whatever incipient hopes had begun to bud. The blow 
 was more heavy than Mr. Grey imagined ; and bidding adieu 
 to love, he turned his quiet energies into other channels. 
 
 As curate of a large and populous parish, he had but little 
 time to think of Miss Leigh, and do his duty. As rector of a 
 small living, he undertook to educate a number of half-brothers 
 and sisters, and tied himself and his fortune down, for the ben- 
 efit of their mother and them. 
 
 The gi'eatest excitement and indulgence that he ever allowed 
 himself was the study of geology, mineralogy, and botany ; in all 
 of which sciences he gained a proficiency. 
 
 When he received Mr. Herbert's offer, through the instrumen- 
 tality of Mrs. Leigh, and found himself again in such immediate 
 contact with the first object of his affections, he naturally con- 
 cluded that the love of stones, llowcrs, and strata, which had 
 held him in such unbounded thi'all for tea years, was much 
 superior to the half pity, half love, he had for three short months 
 felt for Miss Leigh ; so sure was he of this, that arri\ ing in the 
 very moment of their heavy calamity, he had, at Mr. Herbert's 
 request, fearlessly taken up his abode with Lady Katheriue and 
 the gentle Pru. 
 
 "We have seen that the latter, having had no rival, save Lotty, 
 and nothing to divert her thoughts, was still faithful ; and, in- 
 deed, she was not far wrong in tlunking that the ten years had 
 only passed over Mr. Grey's head to improve him. lie bore 
 within him a contented, cheerful heart, a well-disciplined, active 
 mind, moderate and easily pleased desires, Avilh a strong per- 
 vading principle of religion, that never slumbered or waxed 
 faint ; witii such a num time had no dealings, years passed over 
 him as lightly as days on the indolent and unthankful. 
 
 I'ru. was not so fortunate ; good, sweet, and amiable as she 
 was, some little secret corner of repining had tuuched her cheek 
 with a few wrinkles, had somewhat angularized her form, and 
 imparted a slight tendency to redness in her nose. But what-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 265 
 
 ever she might have lost in beauty, Mr. Grey soon began to dis- 
 cover she liad gained in amiability. 
 
 Mineralogy, botany, and geology were certainly bewitching 
 sciences. In their services he had almost forgotten the existence 
 of Miss Leigh ; but when they came to be placed in actual con- 
 tact with her feminine virtues, and he had to compare the de- 
 lights of discovering a new flower, with her gentle endurance of 
 her mother's whims, or a curious fossil, while she, with gentle 
 eyes, told him of some new patient requiring his tender. Chris- 
 tian care ; then we are bound to confess Pru. rose high in the 
 scale of his regard, while mineralogy, botany, and geology 
 kicked the beam together. He came at a most fortunate mo- 
 ment for Lady Katherine, who was only saved from insanity by 
 hardly having sutficieut sense to realize the horror of her work. 
 
 But she was in that state that made her cling to any one who 
 would relieve her from the dead weight of sorrow and remorse, 
 — feelings she could hardly comprehend, yet which would make 
 themselves felt. It was with the heart and spirit of a little, 
 humble child that she threw herself into the pious hands of the 
 kind, mercy-loving John Grey. 
 
 So soothing were his efforts, so gentle his persuasive words, 
 so pure his faith and piety, that under his care she grew calm, 
 yet not forgetful ; happy, though always repentant ; apparently 
 much like the Lady Katherine of old, yet essentially different. 
 
 Meanwhile months went on ; May was beginning to deck the 
 earth with her flowers, and render it fragrant by their sweet odors. 
 
 '' Lotty, love, I am told you are repairing and painting High 
 Leigh. Do my mother and I tie your sweet spirit down too 
 much with our dtilness ? " Thus spoke Margaret on that May 
 morning. 
 
 " I should be dull aAvay from you, and that you may believe. 
 No, Bear and I are fixing up High Leigh for some friends of 
 ours to live in ; they were very kind to us when we were lonely 
 and sad in foreign lands ; and though we do not wish you to be 
 ill, yet we hope that you will catch a little cold now and then, 
 or the children have measles, that you may employ the valuable 
 services of Mr. Laird." 
 
 •' Are those nice, kind people really coming, Lotty? " 
 " Yes, Queen Meg, I am going to let them have High Leigh, 
 because Mrs. Laird was so fond of poor Philip, and will like to 
 hve m his house, and we ought to have a medical man nearer to 
 us than Dr. Murray, and he is glad of help besides ; so alto- 
 gether we think it a fine arrangement." 
 23
 
 26(5 MARGARET 
 
 *' An arrancrcment very like you, my Lofty." 
 
 " Bear and I, if yoii please. "We settled it ?i month ago, be- 
 cause, in the first pkiee, we hke hviug Avith you and Lady 
 Montagu, and secondly, High Leigh does not agree with Bear's 
 health. He suffers from neuralgia there, and nervous affections ; 
 is it not so, old fellow ? " 
 
 Bear whisked his gi-eat tail by way of assent, whereby a hide- 
 ous, but most valuable piece of old Dragon china went smash on 
 the floor, swept oil* by that ever-active member ; Lotty scolded, 
 and Bear looked meek and penitent, so was kissed and forgiven. 
 
 " Bear and I liave also another scheme in our heads, only we 
 cannot do it without your help." 
 
 "Command it, best Lotty." 
 
 " AVe wish to make a matrimonial contract between John 
 Grey and Charlotte Leigh." 
 
 "Lotty, love! what strange thing will not you aud Bear do 
 next?" 
 
 " Not at all strange, SAveet Meg. They knew each other long 
 ago ; they loved each other then. Watch the gentle Pru., and 
 you will see she is more than ' full fathom five in love ' now. 
 But Mr. Orey is too conscientious ; you must lend us your help, 
 otherwise he vnW leave on a sudden, knowing Lady Katherine's 
 former wishes. He Avill fear that she is biased now, by her 
 liking for him ; and tliough I think in his heart he loves sweet 
 Pru. dearly, yet will he hold the secret closely shut within it, 
 unless you interfere." 
 
 " I will gladly do so ; I should like my dear mother to have 
 so kind a son ; we must not lose him Irom such motives — but 
 I am so selfish, Lotty, I see none of these things " 
 
 " When you are selfish, then believe that Bear and I hate each 
 other wi;h a biting, acrimonious haired, not to be matched." 
 
 " AVTicn I am rich enough I wish to build a little church, 
 Lotty." 
 
 " Yes, a memorial church in the Upper Park, half way to 
 High Leigh, aud Mr. Grey shall be curate of it, when Gei'ald 
 comes home." 
 
 " Ah ! Lotty, you see into people's hearts, you know every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Yes, truly ; among others, that your mother wishes you to 
 go from home." 
 
 " She wislies, Lotty, for us all to go to the sea-side." 
 
 " Then we go." 
 
 " I suppose so," answered Margaret, sighing ; " for my«elf, 
 I want but one change."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 267 
 
 This was said so low, Lotty might well be excused pretending 
 not to hear it. 
 
 " Here is Pru., crossing the lawn. Now, Margaret, watch 
 and see if my little love tale is not true. Dear Pru.," con- 
 tinued Lotty, " in Avhat manner have you been uncivil to Mr. 
 Grey, that he is going to leave you ? " 
 
 " Leave us ! going ! " cried the poor unsuspecting Pru., with 
 most innocent dismay. O dear ! O dear ! how unhappy I am ! " 
 and sinkinar into a chair, she burst into tears. 
 
 " Only this evening, dear, to dine with us," said the naughty 
 Lotty ; " but as you seem to take even that short separation to 
 heart, perhaps Margaret will ask you also." 
 
 " O ! dear Lotty, I did not think you could be so unkind," 
 sobbed Pru. 
 
 " Dear Charlotte," said sweet Margaret, " I like your Mr. 
 Grey very much, and you need not be ashamed to love so good 
 a man. Some of these days I shall hope to see you his good 
 and gentle wife." 
 
 " I think Lotty is really very, very unkind," answered Pru., 
 for once in her life feeling hot and angry. She had reason to 
 be nettled at the unkind means Lotty had taken to surprise her 
 secret. 
 
 " Margaret would not believe me, dear ; she said you did not 
 care one bit for him," pleaded the mischievous penitent. 
 
 " O ! but, dear Manraret, he is so good, so kind, that is, 
 mamma thinks, and I always knew, I mean of course, dear 
 Margaret, it is not as that unkind Lotty says, because, you 
 know, he never says anything ; and I dare say never will, 
 because it is not to be expected that " 
 
 " Margaret can make any sense out of all that you are saying. 
 Kiss me, and forgive me, like a good Pru., and I will never be 
 naughtv ajiain." 
 
 " You know I must kiss and forgive you, but still you were 
 very unkind ; and if somebody had done it to you, I know what 
 you would say." 
 
 " What now, dear Pru. ? " 
 
 " You would say, I hate the man ; and, perhaps, even if you 
 loved him ever so much, would never speak to him again." 
 
 " And pray will you do the same ? " asked Lotty, smiling. 
 
 " No, I am not Lotty. I do not pretend to be anything but 
 poor Pru." 
 
 " And therefore much more to be loved than naughty Lotty. 
 So now that we are friends, take care of one thing. I may fancy 
 Mr. Grey myself."
 
 268 MARGARET 
 
 " Then, dear Lotty, von will be a happy woman." 
 
 " jSow, that is very magnauimous of you, Pru. ; but there are 
 two reasons against my ever marrying Mr. Grey, even if I did 
 fancy him." 
 
 " And what can they be, dear Lotty ? " 
 
 " He loves some other person better than me, and Bear is 
 decidedly against the connection. See, he looks quite fierce at 
 the notion." 
 
 "Our Lotty is very silly sometimes, is she not, Charlotte? 
 but her little eccentricities serve her purpose ; which is, to make 
 us smile." 
 
 '• But I don't quite think this business was fair," begim Pru. 
 
 "It was most unpardonable ; but you had better say no more, 
 for Mr. Grey is at tlie door," answered Lotty. 
 
 "And why should he not hear what you are saying ?" said 
 he, being nearer than even Lotty deemed him. 
 
 " Because ' Love lies bleeding ' is not the other name for 
 ' London Pride,' and you think it is," answered Lotty, promptly. 
 
 " Humph ! " said he, gravely ; but his eyes twinkled. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 Sadly and sorrowfully Margaret Avalked hour after hour by 
 the heedless waves. It Avas at Lady Montagu's wish they had 
 gone to the sea-side ; she felt that the longer Margaret refrained 
 from seeing the cause of her sad fate, the more nervously would 
 the fear of doing so distress her. Once recover from this shock, 
 then Avould her patient, pious heart turn to the Avorld, to fulfil 
 the Avork she hiul to do therein. They had no fear lor the con- 
 sequeuces ; they let her indulge herself to the full ; pouring out 
 her griefs ; upljruiding that cruel, remorseless sea — yet loved, 
 touclied, looked on, as the vast tomb of her Harold. 
 
 It was Lotty's custom to sit at a distance and Avatch Marga- 
 ret ; she seemed to knoAA' by intuition the auspicious moment to 
 join her. And Lady Montagu Avould feel that evening Avas a 
 bright one to her, if Margaret's fair clieek had the faintest 
 bloom on it. 
 
 Oik' day, as Lotty sat at her post of observation, she saw 
 coming down on to the sands a stout lady, dressed in such
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 269 
 
 a profusion of colors, it cost her some trouble to reelvon them 
 all up. A piuk parasol was proniineat ; a sort of yellow-ochre 
 shawl enveloped her large person, showing portions of a bright 
 green silk dress beneath ; her bonnet was tastefully done up at 
 all points with little blue feathers, that, irritated in every tender 
 fibre by the sharp sea-breeze, raised themselves into odd shapes 
 and positions, giving the bonnet a strong resemblance to a friz- 
 zled fowl. Tlie sand was soft and heavy, so that she left large, 
 deep prints of a substantial foot, as she labored through it. 
 81ie was followed by three nurses, each can-ying a pale look- 
 ing baby. Every baby being conspicuous in gorgeous clothing 
 and waving plumes. 
 
 Lotty Avatched Bear make a tour of observation all round this 
 party, who huddled together at the sight of him like a flock of 
 alarmed sheep. The lady especially tossed down her pink para- 
 sol, and spread out her ample green skirts after the fashion of a 
 fearful hen. 
 
 " Bear, who is it?" said Lotty, to that discerning individual ; 
 " it can be no one we know. O ! you think it is. Let us go 
 and warn Margaret then." 
 
 " Margaret, see, there is Carry ! " said Lotty to her. 
 
 " Ah, no, Lotty ; the sylph-like Carry can never have ex- 
 panded into that person." answered Margaret. 
 
 " It is Carry," persisted Lotty ; " look at the babies." 
 
 " The small one looks rather like the one she brought down 
 to Court Leigh, Lotty." 
 
 "About the eyes especially," answered Lotty, "and also in 
 regard to a certain uncertainty as to the safety of its head. I 
 always felt averse to taking it, lest that important article should 
 roll oft'. I Avill send Bear to inquire. jS'ow, old fellow, go and 
 do your duty. If that is an old friend, salute her like a gentle- 
 man," 
 
 "■ They will be alarmed at Bear," interrupted Margaret. 
 
 " Tlien you are not to go too near, Bear, or you will send 
 those babies into convulsions. There, Margaret ! it is Carry. 
 Look at Bear, how sulky he is ; he knows he must behave like a 
 gentleman, and salute lier, but he is tlioroughly ashamed of the 
 acquaintance. Slie is much too smart for his homely ideas." 
 
 " Then, Lotty, we must also go and pay our respects." 
 
 It was, indeed, their old schoolfellow, who greeted them in a 
 most cordial manner ; considering, as Lotty said afterwards, 
 they were not babies, and had none with them. 
 
 " O ! " said Carrv, " I really am delighted to see you. I shall 
 23*
 
 270 MARGARET 
 
 have snch pleasure in sho^v^ng you my darling children. Nurse, 
 put Cecil down, that Lady Leigh may see how nicely he walks." 
 
 Cecil whimpered. 
 
 " O ! never mind, then, nurse ; you shall not walk, my 
 darling, if you don't like. Some day, Margaret, when you are 
 on the sands, and he happens to be down on his legs, I -will just 
 give you a signal to come up quietly without his knowing, 
 because he is so very shy. And see, I must introduce you to 
 my little Arabella. Belle, Bella ! look up, mamma's pet, look 
 up, my darling ! Nurse, do you think she seems inclined to kiss 
 lier hand ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am, I don't think she looks inclined to-day ; she is 
 a little put out, ma'am, by the dog." 
 
 "O! tlien we will not force her; I make a point, my dear 
 Margaret, of never asking my children to do what they don't 
 like. And doesn't she like the ugly dog? Ah ! naughty beast, 
 go away ; Bella sluill have a stick and beat him ! " 
 
 Arabella got up a ray of intelligence into her countenance 
 upon this announcement. Luckily, Bear boimded off. 
 
 "And now, nurse, show Lady Leigh the baby. Robert won't 
 look at her, because she is a girl, and he wanted another boy ; 
 but she is much the flower of all my pets." 
 
 Certainly tlie baby was larger, fatter, and more flabby-look- 
 ing than Avhat Cecil had been at her age. 
 
 " Little pet ! " said the fond mother, kissing her. " By-the- 
 by, Margaret, how is your poor boy — did you ever rear him? 
 1 am so nnicli out of tlie worhl now, and am so occupied with 
 my darlings, that 1 hear no news of any sort or kind, except 
 that some one of the name of Leigh, it struck me, I had seen 
 was dead, in the newspaper." Here she looked up, and the 
 pure, Madonna-like face of Margaret, appearing from beneath 
 the close white cap, and deep black bonnet and veil, struc-k ou 
 }ier baby-locked mind. " O, I beg your pardon ! — I really 
 forgot ! " 
 
 " I'ray don't apologize," said Lotty, " for cither uf us, as we 
 can i'idly believe thsrt the care of such babies must make you 
 forgut everythiniif." 
 
 '' Well, Lottv, if I did not know that you were very good- 
 natured, 1 should say that you spoke irouically," said Mrs. iioy- 
 Bton, getting red. 
 
 "■ If you take it as ironical, prav do. But I do not see why 
 you lia\e not as much rigiil tu think of nothing but your babies, 
 us a lishernum has of fishin;r."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 271 
 
 " But I did not mean to be unkind, Lotty." 
 
 " I am persuaded of that," said Margaret, gently ; " so, pray 
 make no more excuses. My little boy is quite well, thank you ; 
 I left him with his sister and the nurse just by those rocks that 
 you see half a mile off. He was intent upon making a fortifica- 
 tion on the sand." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! Did you leave them all alone, with only 
 their nurse, and such a number of ill-looking fishermen about?" 
 
 " I have done the same for the last month, Carry, without 
 any harm arising therefrom.i' 
 
 " Nurse, turn the baby's head this way now, I begin to feel a 
 little breeze from the sea ; and, Betsy, you do the same by Ara- 
 bella. That's my pets ! " continued Mrs. Royston ; and they 
 were both kissed by their mother, for submitting to the change 
 without much whimpering. 
 
 "And so you have a little girl, Margaret? What a comfort 
 that is ! And is she a nice, healthy child — or has she the same 
 fearful tendency to fits that jour poor boy had ? " 
 
 " She is healthy and strong, thank you," began Margaret, 
 
 "And Little Harold never had a tit in his life," interrupted 
 Lotty. 
 
 " Dear me, how strange ! I have always felt so much for 
 you, dear Margaret, wondering what you would do if you lost 
 him suddenlv " 
 
 " Good-by, Carry," said Lotty, abruptly ; "I must go and 
 see Avhat my pet is making such a fuss about." 
 
 " I did not know Lotty had a child," said Mrs. Royston, 
 looking round, as the little indignant thing went olF. 
 
 " Her pet is her dog," answered Margaret. 
 
 " How sad," said Carry, " that she should waste her time and 
 affections upon such a great brute ! Did it frighten my darling ? 
 Never mind, Ave will soon beat him away." 
 
 " I hope Mr. Royston is quite well," said the gentle Marga- 
 ret. 
 
 " Indeed I know nothing about him," answered Carry, with 
 asperity ; " he insisted upon going to see some races, though the 
 doctor especially enjoined the darlings going to the sea-side ; so, 
 of course, if he neglected his duty to his children, I was not so 
 unfeeling. Nurse, throw their veils up, the breeze is gone 
 again." 
 
 " Good-by, Carry, for the present," said Margaret. 
 
 " Good-by, dear. I would offer to accompany you on your 
 walk, for it is quite a pleasure to see you once again, and I
 
 272 MARGARET. 
 
 should like to have a long talk with you about our children ; but, 
 you see, I never leave them. P>ery moment requires a change 
 
 — which none but a fond niotlior can see. But I should like to 
 call ujjon you, and have a chat about happy old times." 
 
 Lotty, as if intuitively knowing that Carry was only adding 
 stab to stab, now called ^Mar^arct, and they left the sands in the 
 peaceable possession of Mrs. Iloyston and her nursery. The 
 next day, Lotty besought jNIargaret to go out at an unusual hour. 
 She had made it her business, in the early morning, to discover 
 Mrs. Koyston's sea-side habits, and. for several days, Avas suc- 
 cessful in avoiding a collision ; l)ut IMrs. Ixoyston discovered that 
 all the world in that small sea-bathing place Avere thinking and 
 talking of nothing but the fair, pale mourners, clad both in such 
 deep crape ; and the interest and excitement about them was none 
 the less from the seclusion in Avhich they lived. Their history 
 was too well known, through public report, for them to hope 
 they were uni*ecognized. But tlie fact gained them this advan- 
 tage — they were never intruded upon. 
 
 Curious eyes, from a distance, might scan their every move- 
 ment with interest, while gathered groups Avould meet only to 
 discuss some new fact concerning them ; but the hard hand of 
 fate had so oppressed them, a sacred air seemed to hallow the 
 spot they breathed in, rendering it too holy for busy, bustling, 
 worldlv thouirlits to enter. Thus, Avith a rare fecliui? of delicacA', 
 
 — a feeling they Avarmly appreciated, — it Avas suthcient for 
 Lady Leigh to select her portion of the sands, and none in- 
 truded on her. Nevertheless, the little Avorld of health-seekers, 
 pleasure-hunters, pebble-finders, batliers, sketchers, and all that 
 incongruous crowd avIio frequent a Avatering-place, each, for dif- 
 ferent reasons of their OAvn, indemnified themselves for their 
 forlioaraiicc ItA' talking. 
 
 Thus Carry found herself, on a sudden, elevated to a pinnacle 
 of Avonder and interest that she had never gained, even as the 
 mother of the most charming babes in the world, merely be- 
 cause she Avas seen speaking, on apparently intimate terms, Avilh 
 the objects of their devoted attention. And Avhen it Avas dis- 
 covered she had actually been at school Avith both of them, and 
 bridi'siiiaid to one of them, she Avas nearh' torn to ])ieci's (mcta- 
 jihorically) with visits and questions. Tlie three lovely babies 
 stood in great danger of being neglected, while Carry Avas 
 uudcrgf)ing tiie trying ordeal of b»'iug a popular cliaracter. 
 
 On the third day, slie announced her intention of calling. 
 ISeverul parties invited themselves to a sea-side tea ou her
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 273 
 
 return, that they might gain the earliest particulars of the visit, 
 and be ready to retail them all at bathing-time next morning. 
 So Carry departed, aware that from every window of the Cres- 
 cent her progress would be watched, until she arrived at the 
 little, insulated, ivy-bound villa, in which her schoolfellows had 
 secluded themselves and their sorrows. She was gorgeously 
 apparelled for the occasion, and the three white, watery-eyed 
 babies shone conspicuous in crimson feathers, and broad red 
 sashes to match ; whereby the youngest of all seemed rather to 
 be composed entirely of sash, without reference to anything of 
 the baby kind. It was a strange, incongruous company that 
 was thus shown into the cool, dark drawing-room, where the 
 holy spirit of pious, patient grief sat enthroned. 
 
 " Well, dear Margaret, I have brought the dear children with 
 me ; I thought they would serve to amuse you and divert your 
 thoughts. But, Lotty, would you oblige me by turning out that 
 horrid dog? My darling Arabella is beginning to whimper 
 already." 
 
 " Bear, go away," said the Little Bear, in her most morose 
 mood. 
 
 Bear arose majestically, and casting a glance of mingled con- 
 tempt and disgust upon Mrs. Royston as he passed her, he 
 reared himself up to his full proportions, and, with wonderful 
 skill, got out of the window and disappeared. 
 
 " Law ! " said Carry, rather alarmed, " what an odd dog ! 
 did you teach hini that, Lotty?" 
 
 " I never teach Bear anything but to love me," answered the 
 Little Bear, with the nearest attempt to a growling tone she 
 coidd accomplish. 
 
 " It is very wonderful, Mrs. Royston," said Lady Montagu, 
 "to see how that dog understands Mrs. Leigh. You need 
 not be under any alarm about your children, for I can assure 
 you he is more like an old nurse with little Harold and his 
 sister." 
 
 " Dear me ! are they not afraid of him?" 
 
 " On the contrary, they think no treat so great as a romp 
 with Bear. His services are often required to amuse baby, 
 when Margaret lays her on the floor, during the nurse's meals." 
 
 " I should like to see your children very much, Margaret," 
 said Carry, secretly wishing to compare such an apparently ill- 
 used baby with her own, so much more carefully nursed. 
 
 They were brought down ; and even in the half-withered heart 
 of Margaret there rose a deep feeling of pride and delight as she
 
 274 MARGARET 
 
 showed her dead Harold's princely boy to her schoolfellow ; 
 while Lotty recovered Iut g(Jud-huiuor, as she took iu her arms 
 the little, laughing, crowing babe, fair, fresh, and sweet as new- 
 plucked violets — a striking contrast with her dark, intelligent 
 eyes and rosy, baby beauty, to the poor little sash-laden Royston 
 baby. 
 
 " Make your bow, Sir Harold," said the nurse, " and shake 
 hands witli the young gentleman." 
 
 Little Harold obeyed with the gi'avity and propriety of a high- 
 ly-bred young courtier, and then looking round, said, " Where 
 is Bear?" 
 
 At (he ."^ound of his name, a pair of deep-set eyes, and fine 
 drooping ears, became visible over the window-sill. 
 
 " O ! don't let him come in ! " cried Mrs. Koyston, who was 
 beginning to tiiiuk Bear something of the demoniacal order. 
 
 Bear showed all his fangs, as he smiled a grim, sardonic 
 smile of scorn, and disappeared. 
 
 " Bear is a good dog, ma'am," said young Harold, eying her 
 with irrepressible curiosity. 
 
 '' Ah ! my dear, you don't know what he might do if you 
 were alone with him ; he might eat you up, for he is as big 
 as a wolf." 
 
 " He would eat the wolf up, or kill him as Gelert did Prince 
 Llewellyn's dog." 
 
 " I do not know Prince Llewellyn, dear ; but if I was your 
 mamma, I would not trust, you, an only son, and likely to be so, 
 and a title to keep uj), Avith such a great beast as that." 
 
 The greater part of tliis speech being Greek to young ILirold, 
 he contented himself with asking if he should read to her tlie 
 history of Prince Llewellyn. 
 
 " Head ! good heavens ! Margaret, do you mean to tell me 
 your boy reads at his age ? He'll die of water on the brain, 
 mark my word." 
 
 ^ '' It is rather too soon to teach him much ; but having, for 
 his own amusement, shown him the letters, he has almost taught 
 himself the words." 
 
 " It's wonderfid ho continues to look so healthy," answered 
 Mrs. Koyston, scanning the tine straigiit linil)s ol' the boy, and 
 unable U) detect a flaw in the beautiful, blooming face. " And 
 how olil is baity? J do not r(*menibcr to have seen her birth 
 in the paper." 
 
 " My little granddaughter," answered Lady Montagu, with 
 bolemu gravity, "is eight months old; she came to bless her
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. ' 275 
 
 mother's life with a new interest, at a time when God seemed to 
 have forsaken her." 
 
 " She is a gift from the sea," murmured Lotty, kissing her 
 little namesake and godchild. 
 
 " Ai'e your children strong and healthy?" asked Margaret, 
 whose cheeks flushed and paled with every word, for all she 
 spoke so calmly. 
 
 This proved a fortunate question in some respects, for though 
 it led Mrs. Royston into a long and uninteresting history of her 
 three children, and the showing forth of their various perfections 
 and talents, it was only tiresome, and not wounding. Once upon 
 the topic, like a good hound in full cry, Mrs. Royston nor stopped 
 nor stayed for any other matter, and the rest of her visit passed 
 off pretty well. 
 
 Upon her return to her own house, she w^as enabled to report 
 a vast quantity of new materials to the general fund of conver- 
 sation. And though these were somewhat mixed up with " I 
 gave her my mind ; and I told her what I did in Cecil's case ; 
 and I advised her to treat her exactly as I did Arabella," with 
 further enlightenments regarding those interesting points, yet 
 they learned many new facts. Such as, — "The boy was called 
 Sir Harold already by his nurse. Tiie girl was eight months' 
 old, and born very mysteriously. The yoimg Sir Harold could 
 read, and had a very broad forehead, indicative of water on the 
 brain. Mrs. Leigh wore no widow's cap in the house, but Lady 
 Leigh looked all cap, her face was so small and thin. The 
 nurse kissed the baby, just as if it was her own, and ordered 
 young Sir Harold about as if he was only a common boy. But 
 Lady Leigh was given that Avay ; she had always allowed her 
 servants to take libei'ties. Young Sir Harold wore a common 
 brown Holland pinafore, and the great dog was a demon, just 
 that, and more." 
 
 By the next morning, all these interesting particulars had 
 increased tenfold ; consequently, whenever Bear inadvertently, 
 allured by an innocent hilarity, ventured to extend his gallops 
 beyond a certain verge, a general flight of brown straw hats, 
 frantic nurses, and alarmed children, took place, cleai'ing the 
 sands like magic. 
 
 Having gained her purpose, namely, that Margaret shoidd 
 get over the first shock of seeing that remorseless, but beautiful 
 destroyer of her happiness. Lady Montagu proposed a return 
 home. 
 
 A third visit from Carry hastened them. They could not hope
 
 276 MARGARET 
 
 she "would al'R'ajs talk of lior children, and even that hope, as 
 Lotty said, ''she wished was safely deposited in Pandora's box." 
 
 The hope was becoming worse than the disease. 
 
 * » # * 
 
 Thcj found Lady Ivathcrine overflowing with health and de- 
 light at seeing them. Pi'u., thin, nervous, and iidgety ; Mr. 
 Grey, solemn and silent, very unusual for him. 
 
 " Pru., what have you been doing to Mr. Grey? " said Lotty, 
 severely. 
 
 " O ! my dear, dear Lotty ! I do not know. I am so unhappy, 
 I have been longing for you every day." 
 
 " Have you refused the poor man ? " again asked the stern 
 little questioner. " For if you have, I shall be obliged to ask 
 Bear's consent to marry him myself." 
 
 Here Pru. wept ; and between sobs and tears, much misgiv- 
 ings, and great takings on, Lotty made out that Mr. Cii'ey talked 
 of going away, leaving Rose Leigh, High Leigh, all the Leighs, 
 as soon as he could lind a substitute. 
 
 "Alack and alas ! This happens because I went away." 
 
 " Of course it does, dear Lotty." 
 
 " He thinks he ought to leave because he loves you, and must 
 not take advantage of Lady Katherine's present bias in his favor." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, dear Lotty, that is just it, if you will not think 
 me very conceited." 
 
 "No ! not vciy ; but I think he carries his ideas of honor too 
 far." 
 
 " Yes, yes, a great deal ; indeed, indeed, Lotty, he is far too 
 honorable." 
 
 " AVell, that is not a fashionable crime ; so you think he loves 
 
 you ! '' 
 
 " Yes, dear Lotty," answered Pru., blushing and faltering. 
 " Though he rarely speaks to me, he always does everytliing for 
 me." 
 
 " As how ! " 
 
 "He always opens the door for me, and always sets my chair, 
 and he watches me silently, and he picks up my knotting." 
 
 " Poor man ! he must be worked to death. And does your 
 mother say nothing?" 
 
 " No ! she oidy seems to like him more every day, and she 
 calls him John ; tliiuk of that now, Lotty ! " 
 
 " Iliiiuph I and du you call him John?" 
 
 '• U, uo ! Lotty. How can you think so, or that 1 would so 
 far forget myself? "
 
 AND HEB BRIDESMAIDS. 277 
 
 " I'll bet you a lock of Bear's hair against one of Mr. Grey's, 
 that you call him John soon." 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty ! you are no wiser since you went to the sea- 
 side — you will joke." 
 
 " We met Mrs. Royston there, which was no joke. Now, dry 
 your eyes, look happy, and try to sit still for an hour ; then if I 
 find you have done so, and are a good girl, I may have some 
 news for you. Kiss me, just to show we are friends." 
 
 " As if I ever thought otherwise, Lotty." 
 
 An hour afterwards, Margaret was seated with Lady Katherine. 
 
 " Mother," said the low, soft voice, like a gentle breath blow- 
 ing through myrtle leaves, "Mr. Grey talks of leaving us." 
 
 " Ah, my daughter, my child, say not so — what should I be 
 without him ? " 
 
 " He loves our Charlotte now, as he did ten years ago." 
 
 "Is it true? can so great a blessing be vouchsafed to me, 
 unworthy siuuer as I am ? Ah ! Margaret, but for him I never 
 should have borne the sight of your sweet face again. But for 
 him I never would have knelt to the God I so sinned against." 
 
 " I know it, mother : it is my wish, it has long been so, that 
 you should give him the sacred title of son." 
 
 " Bless you ! Heaven bless my Margaret ! I know not Avhich 
 way my weak, foolish feet would lead me, but for his sustaining 
 arm. I am but a child, Margaret, in such ways, still blindly 
 stumbling among all my former wicked sins." 
 
 " Nay, mother, think not thus ; a loss such as ours, leads us 
 straight to God's footstool. But Mr. Grey — he thinks if he 
 asked you now for our Charlotte, you would not refuse, but he 
 fears you would repent hereafter." 
 
 " Never, never ; ah ! Margaret, how can I convince him? " 
 
 " You must speak to him, mother, and learn his real feelings. 
 Then you must say (after he has really told you he loves her) , 
 that I would take it kindly of him, if he will occupy in your 
 bereaved heart the place of my Harold." 
 
 " Ah ! my daughter." 
 
 " Yes, mother, it is so. Then if his feelings are still scrupu- 
 lous-, we must send for Basil. Perhaps our Lotty may devise 
 something." 
 
 " That she has done already," said Lotty, entering as she 
 spoke. " I have told him that even if Gerald Herbert does 
 come home, you are going to build a new church. I am going 
 to endow it, and he will be required to serve it. I also gave him 
 a sermon, under three heads, with an excellent text, on the folly 
 24
 
 278 MARGARET 
 
 of being too scrnpulons, and the inconvenience of having an 
 undue proportion of conscieutiousne.s.s. And that the heart of 
 an hone,-?t, good man, showed its sense hy acting with calm dis- 
 cretion and judgment, and not flighting violently off into most 
 uncomfortable but grandly heroic acts, that generally killed two 
 or three people at the onset, and made all the rest so miserable, 
 they wished themselves dead also. ' For my part,' I said, 
 ' ■when I see a man acting in an outrageous manner, I mean out- 
 raging nature, and all the good feelings we get from Heaven, 
 because he fears the world may deem him acting an interested 
 part, I then think he is a hypocrite. Most part of his feelings 
 regard himseli, and the rest are worth nothing.' Whereat he 
 ■winced capitally, (^ueen Margaret. All men are weak on some 
 point, and Mr. Cirey's is a desire to be thouglit highly sincere." 
 
 " He is a good, excellent man, and I would he were my son, 
 Lotty, if I am worthy to have such," said Lady Katherine. 
 
 " I think he is going to speak to you the first opportunity, 
 madam ; for, as I said to him, ' Do you mean us to go down on 
 our knees and ask you to become connected with us ? ' he red- 
 dened in a violent blush, and said, ' God forbid that I should 
 expect as a right what 1 would beseech as Heaven's best boon.' 
 Rather pretty ; I have treasured up the words for Pru.'s benefit 
 some day." 
 
 " Where is he now?" asked Margaret. 
 
 " He is perambulating the cedar walk. I know, by the 
 expression of his face, and the manner of his walk, he is going 
 to search his heart, and lay it before God. He is a good man, 
 trulv, but I fear he would have borne his own burden of the 
 flesh bravely and silently, save for Pru.'s sake. So you like my 
 Lairds. Margaret?" 
 
 •* Yes, Lotty, how they love you ! Ah ! my little Lotty, what 
 did I not hear of you ? " 
 
 " I am afraid, dear child, you must have suifered much with 
 poor Philip," said Lady Katherine. 
 
 " Nay, madam, ask ^Irs. Laird ; she will tell you I was aye 
 a feckless bairn, and no fit for a wife. Margaret, don't you 
 love Miss Rachel?" 
 
 " Yes, Lutty, with a strange love too ; it is so unlike any- 
 thing I ever felt before for any one." 
 
 " Come, come, I shall be jealous ; hut in her quiet, simple, 
 earnest luaiuier. I see alwavs before me tlie wise virgin, with 
 her lamp trimmed, waiting with wistful, loving eyes, the coming 
 of her Lord. She has had much sorrow."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 279 
 
 " And the last brimmed her cup." 
 
 " For a time, Margaret. For she says, now she can see the 
 vista of a peacefvd close to her life, the only time of rest she has 
 ever enjoyed. I like to see you together. You are the stricken 
 angel whose dove's Avings are shattered and broken ; she is the 
 grave pilgrim, quietly marching, with upturned face, over the 
 cutting stones and rude paths of this earth, imheeding aught but 
 the light beyond." 
 
 *' She does me good, Lotty." 
 
 " I know it, Margaret. Hand in hand your treasure and 
 hers passed into the rough sea of death together. Hand in hand 
 you two will walk through life, supporting each other in the 
 same hope and wish. But here comes Mr. Grey. See, Mar- 
 garet, his step is firm, his head thrown back, his eyes bright. 
 He and his conscience have settled the matter comfortably. He 
 is coming straight to ask Lady Katherine to be his mother, like 
 an honest English gentleman." 
 
 " Dear Lady Katherine ! " said Mr. Grey, approaching her at 
 once, on entering, without heeding Margaret and Lotty, " may 
 I be your son ? May I express the love that has been so long 
 burning in my heart for your Charlotte, and ask her to be my 
 wife?" 
 
 Old Lady Katherine elevated herself to her utmost height, as 
 she would have done in former days, on some grand court day. 
 But this time her only motive was to put her arms round Mr. 
 Grey's neck, and say : ' God bless you, my son, my dear son ! 
 for making me thus happy." 
 
 " But you? " said Mr. Grey, turning half to Margaret, while 
 he supported Lady Katherine still. 
 
 " I Avish you to be Harold to her," said Margaret. 
 
 " Are they not too kind, Mrs. Leigh? Tell me, am I not too 
 presumptuous ? " 
 
 " Yes, a great deal. How do you know if Pru. Avill have 
 you? " answered she. 
 
 " O ! go for her ; send for my Charlotte. Let me know, ere I 
 sleep to-night, that this happiness is really to be mine," cried 
 Lady Katherine. 
 
 "■ I will seek her," said Lotty ; " for I agree with you, the 
 sooner Ave get the matter settled the better." 
 
 "Pru., Pru.," said she, on discoA^ering the object of her 
 search, still sitting Avhere she had left her, " your mother Avants 
 you immediately to knot." 
 
 " I will come," said Pru., with sighing meekness.
 
 280 MARGARET 
 
 " She docs not require you for the usual sort of knotflnjr, but 
 for quite a new kind of work, -wliich may be styled knitting 
 knot.s," continued the fliglity Lotty, as they went down stairs. 
 
 " Knotting is rather wearisome," sighed Pru. 
 
 " AVell, if this new work proves so, whistle for Bear, and he 
 will undo it all." 
 
 This time Lady Katherine did not insist upon the oifer taking 
 place imder the walnut trees, in full sight of her decorous eyes. 
 But Pru. found herself, all of a sudden, alone, in the small, 
 green drawing-room with Mr. Grey ; and before she had time 
 to recover that fact, he had gently drawn her close to his heart, 
 and was beseeching her with eyes and speech, to bless him with 
 the gift of her heart, and suifer him to call by the holy name of 
 " "wife," the woman he had loved so long and Avell. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXII. 
 
 Miss Rachel Cl^vke was a woman with whom the world had 
 dealt hardly from her earliest childhood. Her father was no 
 whit behind any of the Clares in vice and Avickedness, but had 
 distinguished himself among them by breaking the heart of a 
 gentle, amiable wife, causing the early deatlis of all his children, 
 save two, from harshness and privations, and grinding down liis 
 poor daughter's soul to the cxtremost point of suflering and 
 degradation ; until, fortunately for her, and the little baby sister, 
 whom all liad cared for, in the midst of their troubles, the 
 measure of his iniquities was completed. He Avas called to his 
 account. 
 
 Upon his death. Miss Clare found herself and her little sister 
 totally destitute. But now that her fate was in lur own hands, 
 it was no part of her creed to endure the worst suffering of all, 
 namely, a precarious dependence upou the scant humiliating 
 charity of her relations. 
 
 She opened ii day school, and toiled early and late the first 
 year, to nuike both ends meet. She was successful beyond her 
 hopes, though her exert if)ns and anxieties paled her cheek for- 
 ever, and caused the gray hairs of age to take early possession 
 of ihi'ir place. She liiid hut one pleasure, the love of her little 
 aister ; and us she bloomed into the beauty peculiar to the
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 281 
 
 Clares, she gave greater proofs of goodness than were usual in 
 that family. Rachel still worked harder than she ought, to give 
 her little Fanny all the advantages she was born to, and perhaps 
 was somewhat injudicious in suftering the pretty, little, gay girl, 
 to taste of pleasures, however sparingl}-, in which she did not 
 share. A little wilfulness was beginning to spring up on the 
 part of Fanny, which was just shadowing out an ominous cloud 
 of further sorrow for Rachel, when a terrible, fearful death put 
 an end to both feelings forever. 
 
 The first breath of this awful intelligence came upon Rachel 
 like a withering simoom. They had parted in auger. The 
 elder sister remembered the sharp words of reproof with which 
 she had dismissed her wilful Fanny — yet" her darling, her 
 pride, her sole happiness. Never more should she hear the lit- 
 tle, soft lips beseech the pardon she was sure to demand ; never 
 more should she press them again in full forgiveness. The time 
 was past, gone : unforgiven — unkissed — unblest, the little, girl- 
 ish thing of sixteen had met a terrible fate, with no tender ear 
 to hear her last cries of despair ; no fond, sisterly arm to 
 become her sheltering tomb. Unable to save, yet happy to die, 
 so that they had died together, was Rachel's thought. There 
 were none to sympathize with her — none to console. The 
 Clares were but little loved, and in the eyes of the world, tlie 
 terrible death of one rich and well-born, like Sir Plarold Lei^h, 
 absorbed all interest, leaving none to bestow upon the youu<^ 
 and thoughtless jjirl. 
 
 Nothing was now left to her but to die. She prayed of God 
 to take her, that she might the sooner meet the little spirit 
 scared from its earthly tenement so fearfully ; and yet reason 
 and life remained to her. 
 
 How long the struggle might have lasted, it is hard to say ; 
 but, like a messenger from her little sister, came Lord Erls- 
 court, bearing in his hand, not only her last words from the sea, 
 but the consoling sympathy of hearts mourning still more 
 deeply than her own. She was ready to perform the bidding 
 of those who were henceforward to be connected with her by 
 sorrow, that strong binder of heart to heart. 
 
 She barely took time to read her Fanny's dying words, so 
 urged was she in spirit to adjourn at once to a country and 
 people where sympathy would hallow her grief and render it 
 bearable. Away from Cowes, the scene of all her hard life, 
 she might hope to find consolation in thinking of her little one ; 
 she could better school herself to endure her loss, take com- 
 24*
 
 282 MARGARET 
 
 fort from her words, and look on grief more bitter than her 
 own. 
 
 AVith Fanny's letter close to her heart, the poor, lonely Rachel 
 left Cowes in Lord I^rl.>court's company the same cvenuig ; and 
 ere she arrived at her futnre abode, the Rectory, gratitude and 
 hope brought a pulse of life into it. She looked with interest at 
 her new home, around which no painful recollections gathered 
 themselves, and thouglit that case and comfort would now be 
 hers, for Lord Erlscourt's arrangement was riches to her. 
 Under these circumstancos she could read and weep over her 
 Fanny's letter, without feeling that God had entirely deserted 
 her. But when she saw that pale, stricken wife, Avithin whose 
 shadowy eyes tliere dwelt a look so sad, so desolate, yet withal 
 so resigned and unearthlike, she folded her hands in prayer to 
 God, beseeching him to look down in pitying love upon such woe. 
 
 And then she joined her efforts to those of all around her, 
 to watch over and guard that "wearied and heavy-laden" 
 mourner. 
 
 She placed in poor Margaret's hands, Avithout a word, her 
 treasured letter, over which she nightly prayed, rightly judging 
 that the artless Avords Avould have tlieir due effect. It was as 
 follows, partly Avrittcn by Sir Harold and partly by the little 
 girl herself, just sixteen. 
 
 " ]\Iy mother-sister, your Fanny will never see you more. Is 
 not that sorrow enough to break her heart ? — and yet there is 
 sometliing worse before her. Great waves ar^ rising high on 
 every side, and they rush in anger on our ship. ! sister, your 
 little Fanny sees them coming, and knows they will soon ingulf 
 her, and she will be but a little reed, broken and crushed in 
 those wild waters. Your little, petted, indulged Fanny, who 
 would have shrunk at the touch of death, even circled in your 
 dear arms. But tliere is one very kind and good to me. Sir 
 Harold Leigh ; he writes these words for me, because I tremble, 
 sister. I think how I left you in anger, but if God hears the 
 prayers of such a little thing as I am, he will hear me asking 
 pardon of you, my only nujther. Bui I must drown in those 
 dreadful waves, and never hear you say, ' I love my Fanny more 
 than all tlie world.' Sir Harold says God hears my slightest 
 word, even in this wild tumult. I pray that he may not hear 
 pool- Au;^iista — slie raves. And yet she leaves none behind 
 her to mourn as that Margaret will, whom Sir Harold names 
 with every ])rayer, or even as my Rachel, when she hears of 
 her little Funny's doom. He has read to me that Holy Book,
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 283 
 
 and he has prayed for me, because I am so weak and trembling, 
 sister. I tliink, if we had parted in love, I might have been 
 braver, I might have been sure that God would listen to my 
 pi'ayer. But, sister-mother, he says I must comfort you. What 
 shall I say? You Avill look at his Margaret, and then feel that 
 your loss is as a drop of water to hei* ocean of grief. And if I 
 am wayward now, I might have become worse. Sister, perhaps 
 God has taken me from the evil to come. I think to myself, it 
 will be but one shock, and then I shall be safe in heaven, and 
 can never more be wilful and disobedient. I might have be- 
 come very naughty. I felt pleased to be thought like Augusta, 
 and O ! Rachel, if you could see her now, — God have pity on 
 her ! No prayer comes from her lips — she cannot hear the 
 Holy Book — she will not listen to the calm Avords of resigna- 
 tion that Sir Hai'old has for all — yes, all of us. He has gone 
 on deck, and said, if I wrote but one line, it Avould comfort you. 
 And I make the trial, if it is but to tell you, Rachel, that this 
 good and noble man has saved his soul, I feel ; for during these 
 three days of anguish and fear, he has been the comforter, the 
 supporter of all. The meanest man among the crew, receives 
 from him the same care and thought that I do, a little, weak, 
 timid girl. By his piety, fortitude, and solemn preparation for 
 death, he has nerved many a Aveak soul on board ; and when 
 our awful summons comes, he will take with him, in the same 
 hour that his own soul is required, all those whom he has tlius 
 fortified. They look at him with wonder and admiration. And 
 I like to think, sister, that perhaps already the Holy Son of God 
 is hovering halfway between heaven and earth, ready to take 
 the fine and noble spirit so fitted for Paradise, at once there. 
 And I may hope to go with him, and many others think as I do, 
 I know. And, Rachel, you will be able to tell her this, that 
 Margaret whom he says will comfort you, she will like to know 
 that this Harold, whom she loves so well, made a little weak 
 girl fearless and resigned, by his noble example. The ship 
 drives so, Rachel, you must not think I tremble now by my 
 writing. In a short time all will be over. When you mourn 
 for Fanny, remember who has lost a Harold, and thank God, 
 that you may endeavor to comfort her. For, dear sister- 
 mother, a lifetime thus spent, would be all too little to repay 
 what he has done, througli the mercy of Jesus Christ, for the 
 soul of your little, fond, loving Fanny."
 
 284 MARGARET 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 So Lotly's Viirtlulay came afraiii. And the snoAv was deep on 
 the ground, and the branches of the trees Avere all marked out 
 in pure white lines against the deep blue sky. 
 
 Lotty and Bear were out walking, and the crisp snow sounded 
 under their feet as they went, with a cheerful, pleasant noise ; 
 and Lotty's breath rose up in the clear, frosty air, like a little 
 tiny cloud, while Bear's enveloped him all in a mist, that settled 
 itself in small icicles over his bristles, cars, and coat, making 
 him look, for the nonce, an aged, gray-haired dog. 
 
 They had had a very busy year, and had done a great many 
 things, and now they were looking forward to this year as one 
 which should raise the heavy pressure of grief from the hearts 
 they loved l>est, and permit the dim eyes of sorrow to look once 
 more with pleasure on the world in which they lived. 
 
 Fresh, briglit, beautiful frost ! No Avonder Lotty and Bear 
 bounded along as if still very childish, both of them. 
 
 They were going to High Leigh in the early morning, to see 
 Mr. and jMrs. Laird, get a cup of milk Avarm from Mrs. Laird's 
 beautiful Ayrshire cow, and be back by Margaret's breakfast 
 hour. 
 
 " Ech, bairn ! but ye luik like a rosebud the morn. And sae 
 ye air nineteen years awld the day. One wouldn't think it, to 
 luik at her, Aleck ! but she has had a world o' sorrow to mak 
 up. Ye ought to hae been graylieaded the noo, bairn, wi' a' 
 yer troubles." 
 
 " You see I have such a hard heart, Mrs. Laird." 
 
 "■Hard heart! at no hand, bairn, say that ; if yer heart is 
 hard, Avhatten a sort o' heart hae ither folks getten? Hae ye 
 ony news for us?" 
 
 " Yes, you are to please to come and dine to-day, you and the 
 doctor, at Court Lcigii." 
 
 " And wha will we meet, think you? " 
 
 " First, there will be Lady Katheriuc." 
 
 " Ech ! j)uir l)il silly body, she has nae such sense as even the 
 big doggie." 
 
 '• J'ut it is better to see her so humble and childlike as she is, 
 Mrs. Laird, than what she was before." 
 
 " I diuna luve to see auld, ancient folks like her leaning on
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 285 
 
 little bairns like yoti for counsel and advice. It's no natural ; 
 
 and when ye are to the fore, or the pretty Lady Leigh, she'll 
 
 no step the floor, unless ye advise her." 
 
 " That is her humility ; she Avishes to make up to Lady 
 
 Leigh for the great sorrow of her life, and so trusts her like a 
 
 little child." 
 
 " It's no canny, my bairn, and she must aye hae been but a 
 
 silly body, at the best ; sae gang on wi' the rest, though she be 
 
 the grandest leddy there." 
 
 " Then there is Lord Erlscourt, and his two brothers." 
 
 " I'll aye hae to pit on a' my best claithes. Them is folk now, 
 
 and I maun tell the doctor to hae his finest wits about him." 
 " Are you afraid of Laii'd Erlscourt, Mrs. Laird?" 
 *' Na, na, bairn, but we maun aye pay respect to our betters." 
 " But you would not put on your best gown for Lady Kathe- 
 
 rine." 
 
 " Hoot, bairn ! you're no wise the morn. Div ye no see the 
 
 differ atween a man like my Laird Erlscourt and thon? I'm 
 
 thinking there ne'er was a body like him for sense and goodness, 
 
 whether he is a laird, or no but a common mon, like my doctor. 
 
 Ay, me ! but I'll pit on my cap o' Limerick lace. And wha 
 
 else, ye bit thing? " 
 
 " There will be Mr. Frank, and Mrs. Frank." 
 
 " Ay ! them's nice people, heartsome folk ; and though she's 
 
 a bit, joost ye ken, stiff like, I'm thinking it's muir shyness than 
 
 pride. And they bit bonnie twins. Nae Avonder to see their 
 
 father doighted about them." 
 
 " But the twins won't dine with us." 
 
 " Come, come, naue o' yer clavers ; ye mak nae jokes o' me, 
 
 ye bit mischief ! I'll be axing ye next if Bear is to be at the 
 
 banquet. And wha else div ye expect?" 
 
 " There will be two of my brothers, and some more of my 
 
 people " 
 
 '' The mair the better, say I," interrupted Mrs. Laird. 
 
 " And Miss Leigh, and Mr. Grey, and Rachel " 
 
 " Ay, my word, to think of ye being such a match-maker. 
 
 They tell n:ie, as you telled that puir, silly body. Lady Katheriue, 
 
 it Avad be a guid thing did her and him marry. And she said 
 
 ' Ay,' at the first Avord." 
 
 " Don't you think it Avill be a nice thing for all parties? " 
 
 " I see nothing agin it, more belike, if they dinna mak up 
 
 their minds soon, they maun just let it be. They're no sae 
 
 young. And hae ye any ither body coming ? "
 
 286 MARGARET 
 
 " Yes, there are a Mr. and Mrs. Bankes, -who came unexpect- 
 edly last night Avithout an invitation. But we think they will 
 not stay very long." 
 
 " I aye like to see ncAv folks, hut I dinna think I'll get fond of 
 them. I never heard ye say their names afore, so I'm speering 
 that they'll be no just what me and Alick will cotton to." 
 
 " O ! Mrs. Laird, don't be prejudiced ; you will find Mrs. 
 Bankes a very chatty, lively Avoman ; and Mr. Bankes very gen- 
 tlemanly and quiet. But I must go now, or I shall be late for 
 breakfast." 
 
 " Weel, gang awa wi' ye. I ken by yer een them new folks 
 is naething to ye, and yer having yer fun o' me. But here, tak 
 a present fra' the doctor and me. Could we gie ye what we 
 wish, it wad be a' Ave had, and oursels besides, ye bit, bonny, 
 lovesome thing ! " 
 
 And Mrs. Laird kissed the rosy face again and again, imtil 
 Bear got frightfully jealous, and Avalked olF sulking, Avith his 
 tail betAveen his legs. 
 
 Who Avas shortly after met by Basil ; and though both kncAV 
 Lotty Avas but two steps behind, yet they took no notice of her, 
 but talked to each other, as if Basil Avas as much accustomed to 
 confide his thoughts to Bear as ever Lotty was. 
 
 " So ! Bear, little Lotty has oflfended you, has she? " 
 
 " I Avish you avouUI not call me little Lotty, Basil ; it really is 
 not proper," said Lotty from behind. 
 
 "But she is A-ery little, is she not, Bear?" said Basil, going 
 on as if not hearing her. " So avc must put up Avith a great 
 deal of nonsense in her, because she is so." 
 
 '' Nonsense, indeed ! " said the Aoice behind. 
 
 " And Ave both knoAv that, tliougli so little, she is very aa'cU- 
 meaning in all she says and does. Eli, Bear? " 
 
 " 3Iuch obliged for such an opinion," from behind. 
 • " And considering that she is only nineteen years old to-day, 
 Bear, Ave must not expect her to be so Avise as Ave are. "When 
 she is about forty, perhaps Ave may see her grave and serious 
 like us." 
 
 " Ila ! indeed ! " from behind. 
 
 " lu tlie mean time, liear, supposing she should be Avhat Mrs. 
 Laird says, a myth, a fairy angel strayed aAvay, and that she 
 should suddenly fly ofif and leave us. What Avould Lady Kathc- 
 rinc do? do after her. Bear, I tliiid<, as fast as she could liob- 
 bli!. And gciitlf Pru.? and Avarni-licarled Pro.? Avhy, I think 
 they Avould run after her also, Avith a little tAvin girl in each arm.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 287 
 
 Then Mr. and Mrs. Laird, Mr. Grey, and all the Beauvillians, 
 flying the same "way." 
 
 " How absurd you are this morning, Basil ! " said the voice 
 beliiud. 
 
 " But as for Queen Margaret, Bear, little Lotty could not slip 
 away Avithout telling her where to follow. And if Queen Mar- 
 garet remained behind, we should have the little myth back 
 again. So you and I, Bear, will ever keep by Queen Margaret's 
 side, then shall we be sure of seeing that little wild Lotty." 
 
 " Not so sure as you think," was heard in a very sulky voice. 
 " And I always thought you so sensible, Basil." 
 
 " We never can be sensible when Lotty is near, can we. Bear? 
 she is so " 
 
 " Come, Bear, come to me ; you are hearing very foolish 
 things, and must listen no longer." 
 
 "■ Ah, Lotty, how strange of you to be a listener ! Now it is 
 one of the last things I should have supposed you " 
 
 " Fray don't suppose any more things about me, Lord Erls- 
 court." 
 
 " O ! we are proud, are we ? " 
 
 " That is better than being silly." 
 
 " How can one help it on such a day? I rose up intoxicated 
 with joy, and seeing a fairy footfall on the fresh snow, I came 
 in pursuit. And I was merely following your example, con- 
 fiding my feelings to Bear." 
 
 " That reminds me, I really Avish to know, Basil, how you, of 
 whom I always held so high an opinion, could be so m.ean as to 
 listen to a private conversation?" 
 
 " I did not mean to be so mean, I assure you ; but I thought 
 the first time I fell into the snare, that you were talking to me. 
 Upon hearing the name of Bear, I immediately departed, not to 
 intrude on a tke-a-tete." 
 
 " And may I ask Avhat you did hear?" 
 
 " I agreed in one opinion very strongly, and whether to admire 
 you or Bear most I did not know. You said you would not be 
 Flo., and Bear said he would not be Carry, Ah, Lotty, my 
 sweet, dear Lotty ! I did not mean to vex you ; don't you know 
 that I think " 
 
 " I do not care what you think ! " as passionate tears burst 
 from her eyes. 
 
 " Then, upon my honor, I heard no more than that, Lotty, 
 and it was quite accidental ; and, much as I was pleased with 
 the conceit of the thing, I honorably went away."
 
 288 MARGARET 
 
 " "Why did yoii not say so at once, Ba?!! ? " 
 
 " Because I am t^ucli a -weak, ibolisli fellow. I enjoyed seeing 
 you put out." 
 
 " Then you shall have no such enjoyment again." 
 
 " Sweet Lotty ! tell me with your trutiiful eyes that yon are 
 not really offeuded. I followed you out, that I might be the 
 first to give you the best wishes of the day, that I might make 
 you my little present, and apart from the crowd of birthday 
 gifts that I know are to be showered upon you. Will you 
 forgive me ? — Avill you accept it ? " 
 
 "• If a man chooses to be silly, why am I to forgive him? I 
 have nothing to forgive. But Mrs. Laird gave me my first con- 
 grutuUitious and present." 
 
 '• Do let me see it," said Basil, with boyish curiosity ; " if it 
 is prettier than mine, I'll send to London for another." 
 
 They opened the parcel between them, and discovered a 
 small scarf of exquisite old poiut-lace, Avhieh looked as if an in- 
 dustrious spider had spent her whole life in spinning it. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Lotty, " it is the prettiest ; it will be. Basil, you 
 can have nothing so lovely as this ! " 
 
 " Lovely, indeed ! It looks to me like very irregular old 
 cobwebs ; and it is not even washed yet." 
 
 " Ah, Basil ! you are just like all gentlemen ; you know 
 nothing about women's dress. Mrs. Laird must have known I 
 was so fond of old lace, and tliis will do to throw over my curls 
 when Lady Kathcrine comes, us she is shocked to see me Avith- 
 out a cap." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, no ! " exclaimed Basil. " Why should 
 you go mourning about the world, as if you had lost your first 
 love — your hu.-band? It is all very well for Margaret." 
 
 " Basil, I think you don't quite know what you are saying." 
 
 " I believe you are right ; but don't Avrap up your curls ; ^ 
 besides, the year is out for Avhat people call weeds." 
 
 "Wrap up my curls! — as if they Avere parcels, or news- 
 papers to be sent off! But Avhere is your present? I am sure 
 you are ashamed of it, aud cannot show it after Mrs. Laird's." 
 
 " Mine is (piite in a dilli-rcnt style ; and, besides, I have taken 
 a great deal ^A' trouble about it. I wanted to match something, 
 and all over Loudon I could find nothing in art or nature to 
 equal them." 
 
 " Wliose were they, and what are they?" 
 
 " Tliey are two eyes, and in your possession," said Basil. 
 
 " Ah I I dure say, now, you have brought me a set of but-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 289 
 
 tons made of cat's-eye pebbles. Hideous ! — I -won't accept 
 them ! " 
 
 " They are not cat's-eye pebbles, and they are not buttons." 
 
 " Then they are great staring carbuncles." 
 
 " Which, you know, I suppose, would just match your eyes, 
 little Lotty." 
 
 " Don't Basil ; I am nineteen to-day." 
 
 " Then, Lotty, take my present, and, with it, more good wishes 
 than I care to own. For Mrs. Bankes is just drawing the cur- 
 tains of her bed-room windoAV — and she will, perhaps, tell tales 
 of us at breakfast." 
 
 " Pray, why should I not walk with whom I please," said 
 Lotty, " without asking Mrs. Bankes?" 
 
 " Bear would not be Flo., and you " 
 
 " Bear, Bear, bite him ! " But he and Bear went off together 
 in a frolicsome mood. 
 
 Lotty opened Basil's present, with some curiosity certainly, 
 and much pleasure that he had remembered her. 
 
 She drew forth from the pink cotton in which they were envel- 
 oped, a fairy little pair of gold manacles. As she turned them 
 round, her eyes Avere quite dazzled with the splendor of a single 
 diamond on each, beneath which was the fastening. So large, 
 so brilliant, so perfect in shape and water, almost alone in their 
 slight, simple setting, Lotty held them before her in wonder and 
 admiration, and as they reflected back her own eyes, she blushed 
 at the remembrance of his words. 
 
 " My eyes, indeed ! who could have thought that Basil would 
 have been so foolish as to spend such a fortune as he must have 
 done on these diamonds, just because of my eyes ? Shall I make 
 him take them back ? No ; I will tell him he is very silly, and 
 I will wear them until there is a Lady Erlscourt, and then she 
 
 shall have them. They will look lovely on Ah, well ! I 
 
 will say nothing ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 It was very tnie that Mrs. Bankes had, unasked, unwished 
 
 for, thrust herself once more into Court Leigh. She was a prey 
 
 to most ungovernable curiosity, as to how matters were going 
 
 on there, since the extraordinary change in all their fates ; and 
 
 25
 
 290 MARGARET 
 
 fiudinj^ that she was likely to receive no positive invitation, with 
 an unabashed coolness, she gave herself and her dear Frederick 
 an invitation of her own accord. 
 
 Margaret was too amiable, and too well-bred, to turn her 
 from her door, as it might he said. And though, in her gentle, 
 grit- f-s.tricken heart she might fancy that Mrs. Baukes showed 
 a great want of delicate feeling in thus thrusting her society 
 upon one who must be painfully reminded of all that occurred 
 on her former visit, that heart was too well schooled in adversity 
 and sorrow to bend before a Mrs. Baukcs's annoyances. So 
 there she was settled, as she assured her dear Frederick, in con- 
 jugal talk at night, just as if she was at home. " I knew it 
 would be tlie case, the moment they saw me, ' out of sight out of 
 mind ; ' moping and pining over their griefs and sorrows, natu- 
 rally they would think that no one would like to come and be 
 witli them. However, they little knew me — I am always ready 
 to give my advice anil company, where I can see they will be of 
 real use, and I shall begin, the first thing in the morning, to look 
 about me, and see what I can do ; I shall tliink it is only my 
 duty. Margaret was but a poor thing when we were hero 
 before, but positively she is a spectre now ; and what caps ! her 
 face looks like notliing in them, and only that line of hair. 
 Now, my dear Fred., if I am to be so unfortunate as to lose 
 you, I should make a point of having a cap of the very first mil- 
 liner, in style and everything ; though you may suppose, Fred., 
 that a widow's cap is nothing but a bit of muslin, you are mis- 
 taken. Some arc made of lawn, with broad sorts of streamers 
 down each side, very ugly to look at, and always in the way. 
 Some are made of — Why, Fred.! Fred.! — I declare he is 
 asleep ; I never saw such a fellow to sleep ; I don't think he can 
 be w. U, so I must dose h'un to-morrow ; that snore sounds very 
 bilioii-;. However, I will go to sleep myself now, for I have a 
 great deal to do to-morrow, looking about me. "NVe have got 
 Lady ^Montagu's room I find. AVell ! it is very handsome and 
 comfortable, and I am glad to see Margaret does not neglect her 
 mother — some p('0[)lc are so selfish in their sorrow, and it is 
 lucky the old lady had gone home for a while, as, perhaps, they 
 •would have had no room for us, and that would have been a 
 pretty kettle of fish, after all my trouble in dragging Fred, 
 down. That certainly is a bilious snore." However, here — 
 like Mrs. Caudh-, of ruuch memory — I\Irs. Bankes fell asleep, 
 and was undrawing her curtains, just as Basil said, on the morn- 
 ing of Lotty's birthday.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 291 
 
 No one appeared at breakfast that morning without a present 
 for Lotly, excepting Mr. and Mrs. Bankes, and apparently Lord 
 Erlscourt. Young Harold brought a silver chain, with a plate 
 and name on it, for Bear, who seemed more surprised thau 
 pleased with his necklace. The little Lottina toddled in with 
 a small riding-whip of exquisite workmanship and fairy pro- 
 portions. 
 
 The two Ei'le boys, not thinking that money could buy aught 
 handsome enough for Mrs. Leigh, had endeavored to make their 
 presents valuable from the labor bestowed thereon. 
 
 Therefore one brought her the model of a steam-engine, made 
 by himself, at infinite wear and tear of his nerves and temper 
 during the process, that it might indeed prove worthy of the 
 person on whom it was bestowed. And as he had no idea of 
 all this trouble being taken for nothing, he had ingeniously made 
 his steam-engine the vehicle for holding different scents, all of 
 which, by some extraordinary contrivance, came out of the same 
 spout, yet remained pure and uncontaminated by each othei*. 
 The other presented her with a collection of eggs of British 
 birds, each set of eggs in its own nest, beautifully arranged and 
 classified, and encased by himself; the collection was really 
 both valuable and curious. Besides which, they each gave her 
 a young Pinus deodarus, raised from seed by themselves, and 
 which were planted that day with due honor at High Leigh, 
 thereby costing Mrs. Laird a whole bottle of ginger wine, and 
 an entire baking of short bread, neither of which she begrudged. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Frank's present was jointly given — a rare and 
 costly set of chess-men, seemingly carved solely for the long 
 taper nails of the Empress of China. 
 
 " Ah ! " sighed Lotty, as she gazed on them, " I shall always 
 lose now, when I play Avith these beautiful chess-men. I shall 
 do nothing but admire them, and wonder how they could have 
 been so deftly carved." 
 
 The twins carried in each hand — being themselves each car- 
 ried in their turn by a maid — a bunch of violets. And Mar- 
 garet covered her Lotty with roses as her present, having given 
 secret orders, months before, to have some forced on purpose ; 
 and Lotty looked like a little Queen-rose among them. 
 
 " It is all very well. Lord Erlscourt, giving presents now and 
 then," said Mrs. Bankes, " but I see you have made no offering ; 
 neither have I nor dear Frederick — we do not quite approve of 
 such things, because it leads to a sort of jealousy, you know ; one 
 does not give as handsome a present as the other. Look now
 
 292 MARGARET 
 
 at the difference between Margaret's roses and the chess-men. 
 Lotty had only to Avait until summer, and she might smother 
 herself in roses. But I suppose tlie Leigh estates are still much 
 embarrassed : I conclude JMargaret could alford no more." 
 
 " A rose, Mrs. Bankes, especially out of season, has been 
 valued at a much higher price than you seem to think its due." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, some of those new roses ; for instance, what sums 
 were paid for Gcant de Bataille." 
 
 " And don't you remember that story of ' Beauty and the 
 Beast '? there, if I mistake not, a rose is valued at a life." 
 
 " You joke, my lord ; but what is Lotty showing now ? Brace- 
 lets ! upon my word, those really now seem a pretty little pres- 
 ent ; very tasty and fashionable. Do let me look at them. 
 Jupiter Ammon ! my dear, what diamonds ! Fred., Fred., 
 come here ; did you ever ! Heavens ! child, they are worth 
 millions of money ! Where did you get them ? Who gave 
 them to you ? " 
 
 " I found them this morning." 
 
 "Found them, my dear! Are you sure they are for you? 
 Had you no note ? " 
 
 " Yes ; they Avere in a parcel directed to me, and this note 
 inside." 
 
 " Let me see ! let me see ! " exclaimed Flo. 
 
 TO lottt's eyes. 
 
 I've sought in vain to find a gem 
 
 To match those radiant ones of thine. 
 Ah ! Lotty, Avho that looks on them, 
 
 Will deign to cast one glance on mine ? 
 
 'Tis as the glowworm's feeble light 
 
 To yon bright stars that gem the skies. 
 
 Lotty, my life is as the night ; 
 
 Lighten it, starlike, with thine eyes. 
 
 "Upon my word, pretty thoughts indeed. 'Tis almost as good 
 as an offer of marriage ; and I am sure only a prince of the 
 blood could aflbrd such a present. You are lucky ! my dear." 
 
 " If tlic donor appears and declares that he means what ho 
 says, ought Mrs. Leigh to accept his offer?" asked Loi'd Fris- 
 co art. 
 
 " Of course she ought. She may bo sure he must be mon- 
 strous rich 1111(1 generous," answered INIrs. Bankes. 
 
 '* The donor shall know my mind when he wishes it, and I
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 293 
 
 shall not have much trouble in telling him he is a very great 
 goose for his pains." Thus savagely growled the little Bear, 
 w^ith angry, sparkling eyes, and red-rose cheeks. 
 
 Mrs. Bankes's retort was smothered by the entrance of Mr. 
 Grey, the bearer of more presents. An antique brooch from 
 Lady Katherine, with a rare pearl in the centre, that lay con- 
 scious and blushing at its own beauty ; an embroidered sachet de 
 mouchoirs from Pru., the work of her own diligent fingers ; and 
 
 from Mr. Grey himself some books on botany. 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 "Wlien all the excitement regarding Lotty's presents had some- 
 what subsided, the ever-busy Florence, looking round to see in 
 what manner she could employ herself with satisfaction, was 
 delighted to catch sight of Mr. Grey, drawing Lady Leigh con- 
 fidentially aside. Huramiug an indifferent sort of nothing-may- 
 care tune, she placed herself, as by chance, sufficiently close 
 to hear the interesting communication ; and, we presume, could 
 not but be edified thereby. 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, Lady Leigh, and trust my 
 wishes may not have proved in this instance as running counter 
 to my better judgment." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said the listener to herself. 
 
 "I am sure of the contrary, John," said Lady Leigh, " and 
 am glad to do as you wish, if it were only to please myself." 
 
 "My good gi-acious ! Avho would have thought it?" said the 
 listener, almost aloud, in her amazement. 
 
 " They have suffered very severely, through all the winter 
 months, for want of regular employment, and, really, with na- 
 tures like the Jones's, so prone to evil, starvation might lead 
 them to crime." 
 
 " Law ! parish stuff! " said the disappointed hearer. 
 
 " I did not think it right to bind them down to any promise, 
 but only said they should have constant Avoi'k for a time ; I think 
 by this means we shall make their condition so very much better 
 that they will experience the virtue of gratitude at least ; and if 
 they work, they cannot be in mischief. But I have one thing to 
 propose, Lady Leigh, as binding them yet more strongly to you." 
 
 "What is that, John?"" 
 
 " If you would go sometimes and visit the new cottage they 
 are to build, as if interested in its erection, and by this means 
 get into conversation with them, I think, after a time, you 
 might propose giving half the money they will earn weekly, to 
 their wives." 
 
 25*
 
 294 MARGARET 
 
 " Bless the man ! " said the listener ; " docs he think to make 
 Ladv Lei;i;h entice common masons to do their duty, and to talk 
 to them ? " 
 
 " Willinirly, dear John ! I understand exactly what you 
 mean," said Lady Leigh. 
 
 " Dear John ! I suppose then they must be engaged. I shall 
 go and question Lotty when they finish." 
 
 " It seems to me likely, that if you take an interest in these 
 unhappy men and their families, they will experience a new and 
 deliglitful feeling. They have been so long the objects of con- 
 tempt and opprobrium, kindness, or, at all events, interest in 
 them, will awaken better feelings." 
 
 " And even supposing your good thought does not succeed, 
 John, we shall at least know that we drove them by no unkind- 
 ness to greater evil." 
 
 " True. To-morrow, I believe, I am to expect you at the 
 school. I suppose, in rewarding the children after the exam- 
 ination, xinifbrm propriety of conduct is to have greater praise 
 tlian any individual quantity of learning or assiduity. I find 
 the little things are much more particular and amiable in their 
 manners to each other, since you gave Amy Wilcox, that pale, 
 meek child, the first prize for attention to her little sister, and 
 that great dunce, Joseph Ewins, for his care of his p-andmother. 
 And tliey seem to know that I keep a pretty keen lookout after 
 all their delinquencies." 
 
 "They have not to learn those long Scripture lessons by heart 
 now, which is a very good thing," said Lady Leigh. " I could 
 not bear to hear those holy words gabbled and stumbled over, 
 like a common lesson." 
 
 " I think it has had a good effect not doing so ; they seem 
 much more interested in the Bible now, and really try lo under- 
 stand it, instead of only repeating the Avords like empty-headed 
 parrots." 
 
 " Do you think that poor girl Avill recover, down at Burn- 
 leigh ? " 
 
 "A great and horrible weight seems taken off her mind. Her 
 parents naturally were very much shocked and disgusted, that 
 a (laughter of tlieirs shoultl have thus disgraced herself; and I, 
 by no means, wish them to tliiiik or act otherwise. Her sin is 
 far too conuuon and uncared-for, in this country, for us to deal 
 otherwise than strongly by it. Nevertheless, under the heavy 
 displeasure of her parents, the unfeeling conduct of her sister, 
 whatever promptings of remorse and contrition she had, were
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 295 
 
 being smothered. Miss Rachel kickily found the way into that 
 sin-laden heart, and once removed from home and country, with 
 the power to retrieve her good name, Ave may hope to ' save this 
 soul alive.' " 
 
 " Such a hope is worth any trial. God bestows on us daily 
 opportunities of repentance and amendment. It is fit we do the 
 same by our erring fellow-mortals," answered the gentle Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 And now there flushed over John Grey's face a glow so pecu- 
 liar and satisfactory, that Flo. became more intent than ever. 
 
 " My happy day is fixed," said he. 
 
 " Yes," answered Margaret, half smiling, half murmuring, 
 " Easter-Tuesday, dear John ; you will now be identified with 
 us, both in Aveal and Avoe." 
 
 " I must have been so Avithout this happiness. Believe me, 
 owing this blessing as I do, solely to you, — for your sacred 
 command, 'Be my mother's son,' pointed out that my inclination 
 was scarcely more strong than my duty, — the home, the Avorld, 
 the love, the Avelfare of the Leighs, must ever have been mine." 
 
 "My goodness me! Avhere is Lotty?" and Mrs. Bankes, in 
 lier hurry to find her, left the rest of this interesting conversa- 
 tion to be heard only by the ears intended for it. 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty ! Avhat is this I hear?" 
 
 " I do not know, Flo., as you may have heard what I have 
 not." 
 
 " O ! you may look as demure as you like," continued Mrs. 
 Bankes, Avinking violently. " None so deaf as those who Avon't 
 hear." 
 
 " Not having heard yet, I presume you have no reference to 
 me," answered Lotty. 
 
 " Tlien, my dear, since you are so discreet, alloAv me to ask 
 how long Mr. Grey has been such a prodigious favorite here ? " 
 
 " Ever since he came, Flo." 
 
 " Dear me ! Well, I must say, I should not have thought it. 
 Margaret seemed to me as if she Avould have been constant for 
 two years at least. Noav Avith you, my dear Lotty, if you had 
 married the next month, I should have thought it no more than 
 your duty." 
 
 " What a pity it is I can get no one to have me ! " 
 
 " O, but you may, my dear — don't despair ; and you with 
 such a good jointure, too. There is a cousin of mine " 
 
 "What! the red-haired one — no, I thank you; I'll endure 
 my lonely state as well as I can, rather than that."
 
 296 MARGARET 
 
 Well, my dear, that is according to taste. Everybody says 
 he is very like Fred. ; and Avhon one comes to tliink what you 
 endured from thai dark, <rloomy man — ah ! my dear, they say 
 such things of him " 
 
 " Then they who say, seem indifferent to truth." 
 
 " Come, Lottv, don't he angry Avith your ohl schoolfellow and 
 friend. I know he behaved a cry ill to you ; come, now, tell me 
 all about it." 
 
 " You seem better informed than I am." 
 
 '" Then, my dear, I'll just tell you all I heard, and you Avill be 
 able to assure me if it's true." 
 
 " You had better make no remarks upon Philip Leigh before 
 Bear, unless they are strictly true. Come here. Bear. What do 
 you do when people tell fibs ? " 
 
 Bear made such an exhibition of frantic rage that Mrs. Bankes 
 fled in a panic. 
 
 The banquet, as Mrs. Laird persisted in calling it, was superb, 
 ^largaret did not appear in such large parties at the head of her 
 table, but was seated at the side, by her dear Lotty. Lady Kathe- 
 riue presided, with John Grey as vice-pi'esident. The gentle 
 Pru. was undergoing a course of teasing from the Erie boys, on 
 the subject of love and lovers, and she must not eat that, nor 
 partake of the other, or touch anything inflammable, which 
 amused Mrs. Bankes greatly ; and she said to herself, " Poor 
 old thing ! I should not wonder but she thinks them in ear- 
 nest." 
 
 John, however, guarded his Pru. so well, she became quite 
 merry and lively, with all their fun. 
 
 So Mrs. Bankes again said to herself, — 
 
 " Bless the old thing ! She will be thinking that man in love 
 with her." 
 
 The children appeared Avith the fruit before the ladies had 
 retircfl. The beautiful young Harold drew towards his mother, 
 with all his loving heart in his eyes ; while the little rosy, 
 blooming Lottina made such a noise on her godmother's knee, 
 they were very nearly both being sent to b('<l. The little quiet 
 twins looked on with awe and wonder at this noise ; their fair 
 little faces, and upright, stiff little figures, making them appear 
 as miniatures of Pru. and Pro. But Mr. Frank lost himself in 
 a sea of a<lmirati()n at their loveliness; and all the IV-auvillians 
 declared, tiiough tliey were uidikc " th^ gii'l/' the original girl, 
 they were quite gems of girls.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 297 
 
 After dinner, Mrs. Bankes having been conjecturing how an 
 ordinary sort of man, Avhose wig got pushed all on one side 
 from excitement, had been admitted, together with his wife, 
 who spoke the broadest Scotch, and Avas always speaking too, 
 seated herself beside the offending person, to find out what she 
 could about her. 
 
 " That is a very handsome dress, ma'am," began Mrs. Bankes. 
 
 " Yer welcome to admire it," said Mrs. Laird, getting all her 
 armor ready. She had seen quite enough of Mrs. Bankes at 
 dinner to determine how to act. 
 
 " So you know me. I am not so fortunate as to surmise Avho 
 you are." 
 
 " I am Mistress Laird, the doctor's wife, and we live at High 
 Leigh ; and I was born a Macullam ; and I bought my dress in 
 Glasgaw ; and the price of it, and the length on it, is down i' 
 the bill." 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Laird, you must not suppose that I am of a 
 prying, meddling disposition. No one was ever so free from 
 such vices." 
 
 " Mistress Bankes, I am glad to hear it." 
 
 "I hope you will allow me to' admire your cap, without 
 thinking I Avish to know all the particulars thereof." 
 
 Not that Mrs. Bankes really admired either cap or dress, for 
 the latter was of a striking tartan, and, being satin in texture, 
 shone out with unblushing glory ; while the lace cap might have 
 been pretty, had it not been favored with bows of a peculiar 
 make, size, and color, that gave Mrs. Laird's marked Scotch 
 features the appearance of being newly done up to sit for a sign- 
 board of blessed Queen Anne. But she thought admiration a 
 notable way of learning a person's weak points. 
 
 " I hae no objection, ma'am, to tell ye that the cap was a 
 present from one o' Mrs. Leigh's uncles, so I am no like to ken 
 the price." 
 
 " But how did you know him? " 
 
 " Ay, that's it ; that maks a' the differ, as the doctor says, 
 when a patient's mending or worsiug." 
 
 " O ! there is a mystery about it, is there?" 
 
 " May be there is, and may be there isn't." 
 
 " Are you the lady who was kind to Mrs. Leigh, when her 
 brute of a husband behaved so ill to her ? " 
 
 " The Lord save us ! — and is that the way to speak o' a puir 
 dead mon, who ne'er hurted ye ? Eh, Mistress Bankes ! div ye 
 no fear a curse on ye ? "
 
 298 MARGARET 
 
 " I am not at all pupcrstitious, I can assure you. I ahvajs 
 speak of people as I iiiid them." 
 
 "• Tlicn it' you was to the tore, there's nae need for me to tell 
 ma news." 
 
 '' But if you have any news, I shall be very glad to hear it, 
 for I am so much interested about dear little Lotty, that, though 
 I never make or meddle in other people's matters, it is a point 
 with me to enter into all her concerns." 
 
 " Very ceevil, I am sure. Ye hae nae family o' yer OAvn, may 
 be?" 
 
 " No ; but why ask that ? " 
 
 " When a body has naething to entertain them at hamc, they 
 are aye rinning after ither folks' matters. I find it mysel' ; but 
 then, ye see, I hae a fine, sensible mon to ma husband, and 
 your little mon, he seems aye very sweet o' the platter and jug; 
 but I am misdoubting ye are his master." 
 
 Pocketing the insult to her dear Fred., on account of the 
 implied compliment to her OAvn sense, Mrs. Bankes got interested 
 in a further debate. 
 
 " And about Philip Leigh?" 
 
 " AVhat aboun a dead man?" 
 
 " I have heard it said that he behaved very ill indeed to his 
 wife." 
 
 "• Ech me, what ouo hears nooadays ! " 
 
 "Then it's not true?" 
 
 " Ilae ye axed Mrs. Leigli?" 
 
 " Yes, I have ; but she won't say anything." 
 
 " Aud she wuuua tell ye nuething?" 
 
 " No, not a word, though I am dying of curiosity, and shall 
 be most thankful to you if you will give me every information in 
 your power." 
 
 " What for, Mistress Bankes?" 
 
 " ! for no particular reason. I shall, of course, tcll*no one ; 
 but, having my own suspicions, I shall be delighted to find I was 
 correct." 
 
 " And what do ye ca' unkind? " 
 
 " Why, scolding her. I liave heard he beat her, and gambled 
 away his money, aud all sorts of tilings." 
 
 " Wee), Mistress Bankes, they lived at our house ganging on 
 for sax weeks, and during a' that time lie never said a cross 
 word till her; Ijiit he loved (lie air she stood in, the chair she 
 ent in, the cup she touched, and he died in her arms at last, say- 
 ing he was happy to gang that way."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 299 
 
 *' Dear, how odd ! I concluded it was so different. But here 
 are the gentlemen. Are you not shocked, Mrs. Laird, to see 
 how dreadfully Lady Leigh flirts with Mr. Grey ? " 
 
 " What div ye think 'ill come on it? " 
 
 " I suppose she'll many him ; and her husband, that she 
 idolized so, hardly dead a year." 
 
 " I hae reason to think she wunna." 
 
 ""WTiy, why? have you seen or heard anything?" 
 
 *' Ay ; I hae seen him walking with Miss Leigh, and I hae 
 heard Lady Katherine give them the blessing as man and wife." 
 
 " O, nonsense ! I'll never believe it ! You are mistaken ! 
 You dou't know what I overheard this morning. Lady Leigh 
 called him ' dear John ' — she spoke about a cottage — and what 
 was that but love in a cottag-e ? " 
 
 " Weel, weel ; hae it yer ain way. May be ye'll lend me yer 
 little mou to run awa' wi' next. Never fear, but ye shall hae 
 him back, Avrapped in a cambric handkercher." 
 
 Mrs. Bankes left Mrs. Laird's side, with an uncomfortable 
 feeling that she had not had the last Avord. 
 
 " Very strange woman that, my dear Lotty. I am surprised 
 Margaret asked her to meet such company." 
 
 " Margaret did not ask her — I did." 
 
 " I don't think, then, my dear, you acted with the judgment 
 I really thought you possessed, under all your childish ways. 
 Besides being very much out of place in her outre dress and cap, 
 she talks such broad Scotch, and has no idea of right and wrong. 
 I convicted her in such a fib " 
 
 " A fib I " said Lotty. 
 
 " Yes, my dear. She told me just as coolly as if I was a bit 
 of cucumber and she the vinegar, that Mr. Grey was going to 
 be married to Miss Leigh. God bless the man that gets her ! 
 Bay I, for she is the most regular old maid I ever saw. Little 
 did Mrs. Laird know what I overheard this morning between 
 Mr. Grey and Margaret. Quite by accident, I heard them set- 
 tling their plans, and she called him ' my John.' I must say I 
 never Avould have believed it of Margaret — never ! " 
 
 " I don't see why you need believe it now, Flo." 
 
 " Ah, my dear, you are an innocent, well-meaning girl, and 
 without saying much, I dare say you feel a great deal. And I 
 am certain you would never pay your husband so bad a compli- 
 ment as to be ready to jump down the throat of the first man 
 that offered." 
 
 " I should say it was a compliment to my first husband, and 
 showed I was anxious to be as happy again as he made me."
 
 300 MARGARET 
 
 " Pooh, child ! you must not joke on such serious subjects. 
 You are under my care and ailvice, and well it is for you that 
 you are ; for with this frightful example of Margaret's before 
 you, -with all her ridiculous show — liere are the gentlemen, so 
 no more. My gracious ! how red Fred, is in the face — I hope 
 he has not been takinij too much wine. How handsome Lord 
 Erlscourt is ! — really — I suppose that's what makes Fred, look 
 rather, that is, not quite so handsome as usual. "What a beauti- 
 ful smile he has ! Ah, my dear ! if Margaret had now only fallen 
 in love with him, instead of that humdrum clergyman, we must 
 have made allowances for her. He bends over her chair so 
 gracefully." 
 
 " The humdrum " 
 
 " No, you stupid thing ! and she has quite brightened up with 
 some lively remark he has made. Ah ! Margaret, too late 
 you'll discover what a goose you have been. I see such a dis- 
 tressing: state of things for the future." 
 
 " ' Let not ills that never hap, chiefly make thee wretched,' 
 saith Tupper." 
 
 " My dear, nonsense with your Tupper ! I never make nor — 
 Ah ! here is Lord Erlscourt looking my Avay ; yes, he is coming 
 towards us ; so, Lotty, dear, if you have anything to say to any 
 one, pray don't think it necessary to remain and entertain me." 
 
 " I can assure you, Flo., the eutcrtaiumeut is all on the other 
 side." 
 
 " "Well, people do say I am the most agreeable woman they 
 ever met, and 1 am sure I don't know why it is so, for I never 
 entertain company at other people's expense — but go, my dear, 
 here he is." 
 
 Mi-s. Bankcs was thinking so much of how she should bring 
 to bear the lull battery of all her agreeable powers upon Lord 
 Erlscourt, that she did not perceive his look of disappointment 
 at Lotty's retreat. How he shook his head deprecatingly at her, 
 and how Lotty laughed back a laugh of spitel'ul amusement, at 
 his being caught in the clutches of Mrs. Bankes ! Determining 
 to cut it as short as possible, he set himself to submit Avith as 
 good a grace as he could. 
 
 " Well, my Lord, 1 am so delighted you have come, because 
 I feel a little out of place here, and you being in the same situa- 
 tion, we can comfort each other." 
 
 " I feel remarkably hapjjy, thank you, Mrs. Bankes, and do 
 not feel at all as if I was in the way." 
 
 " Of course, my lord, I do not mean in the way, but they are
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 301 
 
 all so nearly related and connected with each other, that we seem 
 the only two strangers." 
 
 " I could not have supposed a person so amiable as Mrs. 
 Bankes, had forgotten the existence of Mr. Bankes." 
 
 " O ! of course I included Fred. ; but you see there is that 
 Mr. Grey going to become one of the family." 
 
 " True." 
 
 " O ! then you have been told ; otherwise I was going to men- 
 tion to you a little circumstance I heard this morning quite by 
 accident. They were talking in the window, and she called him 
 her beloved John, and they talked about settlements." 
 
 " They seem to have had an eye to business as well as love, 
 Mrs. Bankes." 
 
 " Ah ! yes, that is generally the case with widows." 
 
 " Widows ! " exclaimed Lord Erlscourt. 
 
 " Yes, of course, are we not talking of Lady Leigh and Mr. 
 Grey?" 
 
 " ! we are, are we? have you congratulated her yet? I 
 think she would only consider it kind of an old schoolfellow ; 
 and if you will excuse me while you perform this friendly matter, 
 I wish to tell Mrs. Leigh that I think Dr. Laird must have given 
 her those bracelets." 
 
 " I dare say he did, and they are nothing but Scotch diamonds 
 after all." 
 
 " Paste, I should say, Mrs. Banks." 
 
 " No doubt, just like a doctor's taste." 
 
 "Basil, where have you sent Mrs. Bankes?" said Lotty, as 
 he passed on to her. 
 
 " I know where I should like to send her," said Basil ; " but 
 at present I have despatched her to cougi-atulate Margaret upon 
 her intended nuptials with Mr. Grey." 
 
 " O Basil ! how could you be so mischievous? " 
 
 " Not at all ; Margaret's answer will rebuke her more than 
 anything we can say. Ha ! Lotty, look, she has begun ; see 
 Margaret's face, first astonishment, then calm, dignified con- 
 tempt. With what queenlike grace she rises and touches John 
 Grey's arm ! I will stake the next kiss you give me, that " 
 
 " Don't stake what you have not, BasU." 
 
 " That Margaret has not answered her a word, but has taken 
 John Grey up to introduce him, and said, ' Mrs. Bankes wishes 
 to offer you her congratulations on your intended marriage with 
 Miss Leigh.' Don't you perceive how mortified she looks, 
 Lotty?" 
 
 26
 
 302 MARGARET 
 
 " Don't you think Lord Erlscourt is very rude to me, Mrs. 
 Laird ? " said Lotty, falling back to the shelter of the brilliant 
 plaid satin dress. 
 
 '" To luik at his con, my bairn, I see pratty much what a' on 
 us feel, and that's nae rudeness." 
 
 " Quite true, Mrs. Laird ; I never can persuade Lotty that it 
 is all love on my part," said Lord Erlscourt. 
 
 Mrs. Laird turned upon him the full battery of her shrewd 
 Scotch eyes ; tlien, as if the scrutiny was satisfactory, she 
 placed her hand fondly on Lotty, saying '' May ye niver hae 
 mair rudeness than my laird's, my bairu." 
 
 " If you take his side, I leave you," answered Lotty, crossing 
 over to Rachel Clare. 
 
 " AVeel, my laird, I am thinking, like us a', yer aye fond of 
 that bonny bairn." 
 
 "'Fond' is not quite the proper expression for me, Mrs. 
 Laird. Some of these days I'll prove my real opinion of her. 
 But, alas ! Mrs. Bankes seems returning." 
 
 " Ech ! my word, what a daft body thou is." 
 
 *' You and my brothers agree." 
 
 "Aye, but I am glad I'm in sich company. Them's twa 
 grand boys, and I'll gang and hae a clack wi' cm, about yon 
 fulish body, just to ease my mind." 
 
 '• IMay I come some morning, and sit Avith you? Believe me 
 actuated by no unworthy mulive, if I question you about poor 
 Philip Leigh." 
 
 " Deed wunnot I. The doctor and me will be aye glad to let 
 on till a friend abuue him, and a' that little angel thing suffered. 
 For she wuU never tell, and naebody kens a' I kens about the 
 bonny thing. She's joost made of the Almiglity's best handy- 
 work. But here's tlioii daft body." 
 
 " My lord, huw could you " began Mrs. Bankes. 
 
 " I beg your pardon — pray excuse me — Lady Leigh calls 
 me," answered Basil, hastily departing. 
 
 " Mrs. Laird, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, to deceive 
 me thus," said Flo. to her. 
 
 "TMy guid woman, shame and Janet Laird never sat together 
 yet. Tuk yer ain blame on yer ain head, or may he's I'll get 
 my doctor to gie ye his mind." 
 
 " Good woman, indeed ! " 
 
 " I ley I \iu\y be I mistook there ; " and Mrs. Laird moved off, 
 grimly smiling at her own wit.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 303 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 " I "sviSH, Basil," said Lotty, as she met him, -when returning 
 on the morrow from her morning's walk, " you would take back 
 those diamonds ; they ought to be heirlooms, or something of 
 that sort," 
 
 "So I mean them to be," said Basil ; " but don't plume your- 
 self upon thinking they are diamonds — Mrs. Bankes says they 
 are paste." 
 
 " She is very angry with me about John Grey, and said I wil- 
 fidly deceived her, Basil ; and that you also are a victim to my 
 mischievous temper." 
 
 " I am a victim to you, Lotty, but not in that way." 
 
 " I am not in any humor for nonsense, Basil, so pray talk 
 common sense. One would suppose you were one of the boys. 
 And how happens it that you have taken such a restless turn? 
 1 never knew you take these early Avalks before." 
 
 " That shows how little you are interested in my movements 
 — for I always take early walks ; but lately you seem continu- 
 ally to have stumbled on my path." 
 
 " Why do you not ask the servants which road I take? " 
 
 " So I do, Lotty." 
 
 " Then, Basil, you follow me on purpose." 
 
 " Without any doubt. Do you dislike my company?" 
 
 " No, not at all ; but you should be Basil, not a " 
 
 " Not a fool, Lotty." 
 
 " I did not say so ; but, come now, will you take those 
 bracelets back ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 " Then I will wear them on one condition, that when there is 
 a young Lady Erlscourt, I may present them to her." 
 
 " That depends upon what sort of arm she has. She may 
 weigh twenty stone, Lotty." 
 
 _ " That you may be certain she will not do, Basil ; but Avhy 
 did you have them made so small ? " 
 
 " To fit this tiny wrist," answered Basil, taking her hand in his. 
 
 " It is very easy to have more links added, if she should 
 weigh twenty stone," said Lotty, withdrawing it. 
 
 "I agree with you, that she will not weigh so much — more 
 likely twenty pounds ; so I close with your proposal."
 
 804 MARGARET 
 
 " Thank you, Ba?il ; now I shall -wear them in peace and 
 comfort, just as if they were my own." 
 
 " Long may you continue to think they are your own, Lotty." 
 
 " Nay, Basil, not so. I do not know of any one who ought 
 to have a perfect wife so much as you." 
 
 " I quite agree, Lotty. But will a perfect wife, such as 
 I want, have me? " 
 
 "Ah, Basil, you are, indeed, very strange: knowing as you 
 must know what I know, how can you be so ambiguous and 
 foolish ? " 
 
 " Ah, Bear, come here, and resolve me of this sentence : 
 ' knowing as you must know what I know,' and I asked a 
 straight Ibrward question, Bear ; who is most ambiguous, old 
 fellow ? " 
 
 " Then, Basil, Margaret. Does she not look almost like her 
 old self? Now that poor Harold's name is cleared, thanks to 
 your exertions, she seems to have given him calmly up to God, 
 and is only bent on fultilling his earthly duties." 
 
 " Lotty, Margaret has realized every hope I had entertained 
 of her character. And, perhaps, had she not had these trials, 
 we should not have seen the full beauty and strength of it. She 
 has risen superior to even the idol that I had formed of her in 
 my heart, when I loved her so madly." 
 
 " Loved h(?r, Basil ! Do you not love her now ? " 
 
 " Yes, as the angels love." 
 
 " AVherefore thus, Basil? Are not her trials over? Will you 
 not guard her future life ? "Will you not make amends to her 
 for all she has endured ? " 
 
 " Yes, Lotty, as a brother." 
 
 "No more, Basil?" 
 
 " No, Lotty, I cannot." 
 
 " Tlien farewell to my last scheme of match-making. Yet, 
 why is it so, Basil? she is more worthy of your love than 
 before." 
 
 " Granted, Lotty, doultly granted. But we men, calling our- 
 selves your superiors in all things, must bow the knee before the 
 true and constant affection of a woman's heart. . I am faithless ; 
 I almost tliiiik I love another." 
 
 " Then I shall hate that other, Basil." 
 
 " Hate her as much as you please, Lotty, provided she makes 
 me happy." 
 
 " Yon are scKisli, Basil. Like Flo., 1 will neither make nor 
 meddle iu your matters."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 305 
 
 " Nay, Lotty, grant me your best wislies, at all events ; for 
 the heart I wish to win is so pure, so true, so noble, that did it 
 not love me with all its powers, I know I should be rejected on 
 the spot." 
 
 " Then take my best wishes, since she seems so worthy of 
 you ; but, for goodness' sake ! let me hear no more of the matter." 
 
 " Lotty, do not be angry. Come, we will talk of something 
 else. I like your Mrs. Laird very much. She told me long 
 stories about you." 
 
 " She might have employed her time better." 
 
 " Lotty, you must have suffered much." 
 
 *' I suffer nothing now." 
 
 *' Wlien I loved you so, Lotty, as the fearless, warm-hearted 
 child, I did not think you were something much beyond ; a les- 
 son to us all, an example in every way." 
 
 " Good-by ! " said Lotty ; " you take me for a baby still, 
 I see." 
 
 She ran away ; and Basil went to join his brothers, who 
 were at a little distance, practising jumping over a leaping-bar. 
 
 " We would not come and disturb you, Basil, because you 
 were Avalking with Mrs. Leigh," said Brian. 
 
 " And why did that prevent you? I thought she was such a 
 favorite of yours." 
 
 " So she is," said both the boys ; " but as we said to each 
 other, when we saw you, if we walked alone with Mrs. Leigh, 
 we should certainly tell her how much we loved her, so we 
 thought you could not help doing so also." 
 
 " You are quite right ; I did." 
 
 "And what did she say? O ! Basil, did she say she would 
 marry you — be our sister ? I'll kiss her every day then." 
 
 " Stop, stop, boys ; not so fast. I may not allow that." 
 
 " Once a week then, dear Basil." 
 
 " Well, perhaps once a week I may ; but there is one great 
 impediment. She would not hear me — she ran away, as you 
 saw just now." 
 
 The two boys groaned. And all breakfast-time they sat 
 sorrowful and silent, and ate very little, which was not at all 
 their i;sual custom. 
 
 In vain Mrs. Bankes cheered them up, in her usual rather 
 vulgar style, by affectionate slaps on the back, and incessant 
 friendly winks ; they remained plunged in deep sorrow, and 
 never looked at Lotty without further sighs. So Mrs. Bankes 
 began to foresee various strange things, and opened her eyes 
 26*
 
 306 MARGARET 
 
 accordinjrly. Before breakfast -vvas finished, she had come to 
 the concUision that both the Erie boys, not bcinj? so much 
 younger than Lotty, were deeply in love Avith her, and that they 
 •would jirobahly have a deadly quarrel ; and that Lord Erlscourt 
 •was making up to Lady Leigh himself. He had put two pats 
 of butter on her plate unknowingly, and twice slipped out the 
 •word '• Margaret." She would take the earliest opportunity of 
 informing Lotty of this state of affairs. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 " So, Lotty, I see "which •way the Aviud lies ; you and Mar- 
 garet will be sisters after all," said Mrs. Bankes. 
 
 " You are very kind to manage it so, Flo." 
 
 " Not at all ; I live for nothing so much as to oblige my friends. 
 Unlike Carry By-the-bye, have you seen her lately? " 
 
 " Yes, last summer." 
 
 " Then, my dear, you know she has two more babies, each 
 paler and more frightful than the first ; and if I thought her baby- 
 mad before, she now ought to be made principal nurse to an 
 infant school. Upon my word, I never see her without thinking 
 of a basin of pap." 
 
 " She used to be very pretty." 
 
 " Pretty ! yes ; but such a slattern. She thinks of nothing 
 but those children ; and "woidd you believe it, Mr. lloyston made 
 her a present of a gray Moire (she really went about not fit to 
 be seen), and she exchanged it, my dear, for three little drab- 
 colored pelisses, embroidered in sky-blue silk. And you may 
 think, with her weak babies, what they were like, in a week. 
 Su(;h a love of a gray ! silver gray. I helped to choose it : ten 
 shillings and sixpence a yard, my dear." 
 
 " I suppose she has a right to do as she pleases." 
 
 " Not at all, Lotty ; that is a very mistaken notion of yours. 
 People should always remcmljor their friends, imder any circum- 
 stances. It is rpiitc a point with me to do so ; and that is why 
 J interest myself so iimcli about you. Now mark my words, and 
 be cari'l'ul of those Erie boys. One is a boy no longer, and he 
 will he getting your name compromised. "Widows sliould l)e so 
 pariicular, twice as muck so as single women, and that is why X
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 307 
 
 wish you to •warn Margaret. It really is not right having Lord 
 Erlscourt always in her house, and consulting him on eveiy 
 occasion." 
 
 " O ! now you think she is going to marry him ; last night it 
 was Mr. Grey." 
 
 " I can never forgive you, Lotty, about that. I shall never 
 forget Lord Erlscourt's look when I first told him ; really, the 
 muscles about his mouth quivered and shook, until I thought he 
 would go and knock Mr. Grey down. No wonder, poor man ! 
 Now I see which Avay the wind blows. By-the-by, what im- 
 lucky person was it who hooked that poor Mr. Grey in (really 
 he is a very nice, agreeable man ; Fred, says sensible enough, 
 though a little too religious for him) to marry that poor old 
 thing?" 
 
 " Did no one tell you, Flo., it was an old affair, begun ten 
 years ago ? " 
 
 " Law ! so that's it. "Well, to return to Margaret ; of course 
 she will not be such a fool as to refuse Lord Erlscourt." 
 
 " I never asked her, and I don't suppose he has," said Lotty. 
 
 " Well, my dear, he is going to ; of that I am positive. He 
 gave her three pats of butter, one after another, and called her 
 his dearest Margaret ! " 
 
 " Great symptoms, Flo." 
 
 " Pooh, child ! you will never get older or Aviser, as long as 
 you live, such pains as I take with you too. But remember my 
 advice in this instance ; don't associate too much with that old 
 Scotchwoman — she will be doing you a mischief some day, 
 with her gossiping tongue." 
 
 " Much obliged, mem ; I'll aye trust that ye will be to the 
 fore, to help the young leddy out on it." 
 
 " Dear me ! I had no idea you were so near. However, I 
 never say anything of which I am ashamed, so I cannot apolo- 
 gize." 
 
 " Deed, mem, for a' Janet Laird cares, ye may keep your 
 apologees to yoursel'. I wad think ill o' mysel' if ye could say 
 aught to fret me. Gang yer Ava.ys, guid body, the world is wide 
 enough for us twa, wi'out me fashing mysel' to rub agin you." 
 
 " Vulgar old woman ! " muttered Mrs. Bankes, walking off. 
 
 " My bairn, I am wanting your company on a bit business o' 
 Mr. Grey's. There is a misguided set o' young things doon i' 
 them cottages by the burn, and he thinks if we wad just luik 
 after them a bit, they might get righted. We are no to flite 
 'em with owre much guid talk, which, aye me, for weak human
 
 308 MARGARET 
 
 nature, gaes a pnir niisguiilcd body sit up their prood backs ; 
 but -when we hae gettin* round 'em, we maun thou tell him. 
 Tliev are yure liooses, my bairn, and they aye tliink a deal o* 
 the little fairy mistress. The Lord Ibrgie us I thinking so mickle 
 on ye, bairn." 
 
 " The Lord forgive me, if I do not prove both grateful and 
 deserviug," answered Lotty, gravely. " But I am ready." 
 
 '' Ay, my bairn," continued Mrs. Laird, as they pursued 
 their way. " When I think o' the first time I catched a glint 
 o' your little cliild face, I could a'most beat myself for thinking 
 of what I thought ; and says the doctor to me, ' I always 
 kenned she was something abuve the common.' Ay, but thon's 
 a man, that my lord." 
 
 " He docs not tliink himself a Avoman, I dare say, Mrs. 
 Laird." 
 
 " Hoot, bairn ! de ye ken he has asked the doctor and me 
 to visit him, when ye are a' Avi' my Lady Montagu? " 
 
 "I am very glad of it," said Lotty. 
 
 " And he is no married, bairn ! " 
 
 " No, not yet, Mrs. Laird ; but I hope he will soon." 
 
 "And who to, child?" 
 
 " Why, you are Mrs. Bankes over again. I shall gratify no 
 such curiosity, except to tell you, once he was very much in 
 love, and upon the lady's marrying, he almost died of grief. 
 But she is not married now ; her husband is dead." 
 
 " And you think he will marry her, my bairn ? " 
 
 " I hope so," said Lotty, as she switched off the head of a 
 great thistle with a little stick. 
 
 ^ Bairn, ye dinua look pleased." 
 
 " I think I am in a bad humor some how, Mrs. Laird. I think 
 Mrs. Bankes teases me." 
 
 " Ay, a body like tliat is aye a lighted candle stuck in a barrel 
 of poodre ; I'll hae to gie her my mind atbre she leaves ; I 
 canna, as JNIr. Grey says, laugh an ill word all'. .So, my laird's 
 ganging this stunnier aff to Holland, is he?" 
 
 " Yes, we have liiard some more particulars about the ship, 
 and he does not tliink Lady Leigh will be quite hapi)y, xuitil he 
 has seen the wreck himself — at least, what is left of her." 
 
 " A feckless errand, my bairn, but I wad na be the person to 
 deny my Leddy Leigh auglit slie asked. I wad think I was hin- 
 dering ane of the Lord's chosen. And wi' a' her saintly luiks, 
 tlic doctor tt'lls me slic is aye the best hand at business he ever 
 lighted on ; and a' tell the same thing. She has getten the 
 estates most righted, they tell me."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 309 
 
 " Yes, and of late a large sum has been paid into the bank 
 from Australia, and it is supposed Mr. Price, the agent that 
 went off with so much, money, has repented, and returned some 
 to her, or else he has made his fortune at the gold diggings, and 
 has become an honest man." 
 
 " Weel, I wish him weel on wi' repentance and amendment. 
 So noo, bairn, here is the house, and ye maun just pit on yer bit 
 sweetest ways, to beguile they puir bodies to their guid." 
 
 ^ ¥^ ^ ^ ^ yf^ 
 
 "My dear Lotty ! " said Mr. Bankes, meeting her on her 
 return home, " what do you think? " 
 
 Mrs. Bankes's eager, excited, worldly face, did not look to 
 advantage by that of Lotty ; for an elevated feeling made her 
 eyes shine with the holy light of a pure star. She had not 
 labored in vain on the errand she had been with Mrs. Laird. 
 And the touching homage that the rough, wild people of the 
 hamlet had paid her innocent youth, and beauty, and gentle 
 Avords, had gi'eatly affected her. She was deep in thought, as to 
 the cause that made some natures so repel the good that waited 
 but to find a way into their hearts ; while others seemed to cull 
 pure and holy lessons from even the depth of misery and degra- 
 dation into Avhich they had fallen. 
 
 She Avas thinking over one speech that had been said to her : 
 " I would like to please Mr. Grey, if I could, he is so heart- 
 some." And she had returned for answer : " Mr. Grey seems 
 to wish that everybody should be as happy as himself." 
 
 " Ay, deed, does he," answered the man. "And I'd like to 
 know his way, weel ; he is a kindly body, and shakes hands as 
 if one was just of his own sort. But I don't know how I'll ever 
 look i' the face of mankind with such like clear eyes." 
 
 " He loves the good God for giving him so many blessings, 
 for so fair a Avorld to live in, so many opportunites of doing 
 good," answered Lotty. 
 
 " I am bound to say, he does nae try it owre strong upon us. 
 I am weary o' hearing I'm sich a lost sinner. I'd like to hear 
 how I can get oot of this pit o' wickedness, into which I never 
 pit myself." 
 
 " Mr. Grey told us that last Sunday in church, and promised 
 to go on with it next Sunday." 
 
 " Then I think I'll be going there ; I wish to oblige him, he 
 is heartsome and civil like." 
 
 " Very well," said Lotty. " Come ; and as I go into church, 
 I shall just look to see if you are thei-e, and give you a nod."
 
 310 MARGARET 
 
 " I'll take it very kind of ye, madam, for I'll feel myself a 
 stranger, no doubt." 
 
 So Lotty Aviis pondering over tlio rights and the WTongs of 
 becruiliu": this man to church, tiirough the instrumentality of" lik- 
 ing for a fellow-mortal rather than a purer motive, love for 
 God ; and having happily settled in her own mind that it Avas a 
 good thing to have got him to promise to come to church at all, 
 here face was full of pure, happy feelings, when she met Mrs. 
 Bankes Avilh hers full of life's bustle. 
 
 "' I think it is ralhc-r chilly this evening, Flo.," said Lotty, in 
 answer to her question. 
 
 " Nonsense ! child ; he has proposed, actually and absolutely 
 proposed this afternoon, and been accepted." 
 
 For a moment a quick, glowing blush crimsoned Lotty's face, 
 and as it died away, left her apparently, from the contrast, per- 
 fectly pale ; but she answered without a shade of difference in 
 her voice, without even a tone of astonishment, — 
 
 " You are speaking of Lord Erlscourt and Lady Leigh." 
 
 " Yes, my dear, they little knew that I Avas hidden behind the 
 curtain, and saAV the Avliole scene : and he kissed her hand ! 
 
 ! my dear, Avith such fervency, it A\^as quite touching, and I 
 could not help longing to see Fred, in just the same graceful 
 attitude." 
 
 " Are yoii sure you have made no mistake, Flo.?" 
 " 3Ie ! my dear ; ine make a mistake ! no I thank you. I am 
 very grateful to the Almighty for my full share of Avits, and per- 
 haps a little over. I don't mean to say I overheard every AA'ord, 
 because that Avould have been Aery dishonorable on my part — 
 in fact, such an act Avoidd have been quite beneath nie ; but 
 Avheii ^Margaret clas[)cd her hands Avith doliglit, and leaned upon 
 my lord's shoulder Avilh her handkerchief to her eyes, Avhat could 
 
 1 think of that, my dear? " 
 
 " Tliat Avas a A'ery natural action, if Basil had been doing 
 Avhat he often has done, acting a l)rother's part by her, and 
 promising her his helj) in something she may have set her heart 
 on." 
 
 '' Pooh, pooh ! my dear ! don't chatter on in that foolish Avay. 
 I heard — 1 could not help it — I heard her say, quite loud, in 
 consequence of her energetic feelings, — 'Ah ! Basil, I Avanted 
 but this to make my future life happy ; I shall then see the 
 AV(;rld and all around me in a very different light to what I have 
 done for the last eighteen monllis.' And then, my dear, her 
 voice dro])ped, he kissed her hand, and it Avas, Avithout exccp-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 811 
 
 tion, the most moving scene I ever witnessed. I slipped away 
 through the open study door, and have been running iu every 
 direction in search of you. Now, really, Margaret has proved 
 herself worthy of the fond interest I have ever shown her, and I 
 hope, poor thing ! my Lord will make amends to her for the sad 
 life she led with Sir Harold. But now, my dear Lotty, that is 
 not the half of what I have to say to you ; of course you will be 
 turned out of your snug quarters here, and as you cannot return 
 to your own home with those vulgar Scotch people in it, I have 
 thought of a capital scheme. You shall come and live with 
 Fred, and me ; Fred, is very fond of you, and you would with 
 us, my dear, have cheerful and congenial society, and I will 
 make a point of introducing you everywhere, and with your 
 pretty, youthful style of beauty, and your peculiar dress, and 
 doubling the real amount of your jointure, I make no doubt you 
 will make a capital match, some how." 
 
 " To which I shall certainly forbid the banns, Mrs. Bankes," 
 said Lord Erlscourt. 
 
 " O, law ! my Lord, how you do startle one. "What on earth 
 sent you here ? " 
 
 " I came in search of the same person as you did, therefore 
 no wonder we met." 
 
 " I hope, my Lord, you overheard nothing." 
 
 " I heard quite sufficient for me to tell you, Mrs. Bankes, 
 that take the whole population, including Mr. Bankes, double 
 them all, extract from each every good they possess, and bestow 
 it upon one man, still, in my eyes, he Avould not be worthy of 
 Mrs. Leigh." 
 
 "I quite agree with you, my Lord ; Lotty has always been a 
 great favorite of mine." 
 
 " Good-by to you both," exclaimed Lotty ; " if you have no 
 better subject for your conversation than my unworthy self, ex- 
 cuse my remaining." 
 
 Lotty and Bear departed together. 
 
 " May I ask, Mrs. Bankes, what you have been telling Mrs. 
 Leigh, in addition to the charming scheme for her future fate? " 
 
 " Nothing, I assure you ; nothing at all." 
 
 " What ! " continued Basil, smiling ; " nothing to tell, after 
 being behind a curtain? No, no, Mrs. Bankes, I have not so 
 poor an opinion of you." 
 
 " Indeed, my Lord ; on my honor, I made my escape as soon 
 as ever I discovered what a very private conversation I was 
 overhearing,"
 
 812 MARGARET 
 
 " But voii heard enough to inform Mrs. Leigh of an important 
 
 fact '-" 
 
 '• AVhy, yes, you know, how could I mistake, my Lord?" 
 
 " That I offered my hand to Lady Leigh, and she accepted?" 
 
 " Allow me to be the first to congratulate you, my Lord. I 
 
 always thought Margaret much more suited to you than Sir 
 
 ILarold. Lucky woman as she is, to have got rid of him so 
 
 easily." 
 
 "judging of her by yourself, I presume. Poor Mr. Bankes ! 
 But pray excuse me, you have omitted such a very important 
 part of the news to Mrs. Leigh, I must overtake her, for the 
 purpose of imparting it." 
 
 " O ! pray tell me first, my Lord ; I will be sure to tell Lotty. 
 — Ah, well ! he is gone. Certainly, he is the handsomest man ; 
 if I had seen him before Fred., now there's no saying. How- 
 ever, that is neither here nor there. I wonder Avhat made him 
 laugh so, as he Avent away ! I doubt he is satirical ; if so, poor 
 Margaret is in for it again. A satirical husband always ends 
 in sneering at his Avifc. I should like to see Fred, indulging in 
 so much as a smile at my expense ! AVell, so really this allair 
 is settled, and I have no one with whom to talk the matter over. 
 I am disgusted Avith Margaret, I must allow, making such a 
 fuss about her first husband, and only A\'aiting a mouth or tAvo 
 over the year to accept another Avith gratitude, if you please. 
 But this is a brilliant plan of mine about Lotty. She is sure to 
 pay handsomely for her board, and is really a very striking-look- 
 ing person though she is so little ; and I don't tell her of it, because 
 she may groAV conceited. Her money Avill help Fred, and me 
 Avell over the midsummer bills ; and I shall become quite the 
 fashion, Avith such a pretty, rich Avidow in my house." 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 Flo. pursued the tenor of these thoughts ; and in discoursing 
 them over Avith Fred., she Avas very nearly late for dinner. But 
 others Averc later still. Though the last bell had rung, no 
 Lotty Avas to be seen, and Lord Frlscourt Avas pacing up and 
 doAvn the room in a manner by no means common to him. 
 
 "Have you seen Mrs. Leigh?" he asked eagerly of Mrs.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 313 
 
 Bankcs, as she entered the room, hanging elegantly, as she 
 termed it, on dear Fred.'s arm. 
 
 Tiiough she simply answered "No," her thoughts had time to 
 wonder what Margaret must think, to see her intended putting 
 himself into such a fuss all for another woman 
 
 " Dinner is served, my Lady," pompously announced the 
 butler, startling all Flo.'s thoughts off, by the sonorousness of 
 his mode of imparting such interesting news. 
 
 " We must wait," said Lady Leigh. " Mrs. Leigh has not 
 returned home." 
 
 " She has dined, my Lady, and desired me to inform you she 
 ■would be with you at tea." 
 
 With marked vexation. Lord Erlscourt gave his arm to Mrs. 
 Bankes, who forgave him his decided want of good taste, because 
 of the peculiar circumstances of his case. On no account could 
 they have arranged it, for her to go in to dinner on the arm of 
 Fred. — that Avould have been so glaring before the servants. 
 Otherwise, she enjoyed very much having Lord Erlscourt all to 
 herself, and took every opportunity of breaking into any conver- 
 sation between him and Margaret, because she felt it no more 
 than her duty, if it were even for but one day, to prevent the 
 servants guessing the real state of things. If Margaret had 
 shown a want of feeling and delicacy, it was the more imperative 
 she should be particular. Therefore she became at last quite 
 confidential ; whispering all sorts of things into his ear, about 
 Lotty, and Avhere she could be gone — perhaps to High Leigh, 
 to tell the news — until Fred.'s hair began to stand on end with 
 amazement. And if Lord Erlscourt had not answered all the 
 whispers in a loud, anti-contidential tone, with a countenance 
 and manner to match, it might have so occurred that Fred, 
 would have succumbed to a fit of jealousy. 
 
 Lotty Avas in the tea-room when they left the dining-room, and 
 had nothing to say in excuse for her absence, but that she fan- 
 cied she would like a long walk, and Bear fancied the same 
 thing. 
 
 She was very silent all the evening ; no ready answers for 
 Mrs. Bankes. Even Margaret said, " Are you tired, my Lotty ? " 
 
 " You know I am never tired," muttered Lotty. 
 
 "Let us have some music, Florence?" asked Margaret; 
 which request was often a gentle ruse on Lady Leigli's part, to 
 employ the ever-active Mrs. Bankes in something harmless. 
 
 Basil took the opportunity of her being so engaged to Avrite a 
 little note, and fastening it in Bear's collar, he whispered to him 
 27
 
 814 MARGARET 
 
 to whom to convey it. After much coquetry on Bear's part, 
 Lotty obtained the note. It only said, — 
 
 " May I walk with you iu the moruiug? 
 
 " Basil." 
 
 " Go and say yes, Bear," answered Lotty, tossing the note 
 into the lire. 
 
 Basil recovered his good humor, and found liimsolf, under the 
 influence thereof, praising Mrs. Bankes's dashing, cra.'<hing, 
 railliug mode of scrambling over the keys of the piano, intend- 
 ing people to believe she was performing in the most approved 
 style. 
 
 At night, when Lotty went up stairs, she sat, for some time 
 after undressing, thinking iu her chair instead of retiring to her 
 couch. Bear sat opposite to her, winking and blinking liis eyes 
 all to no purpose at this strange proceeding. At last he elevated 
 a paw, and tapped her inquiringly on the arm. 
 
 " So, Bear, you wonder what is the matter with Lotty ? She 
 is not tired, no, no ; but some how her heart is Aveary. "Well, 
 what do you wish to say? Do you think it was all true that 
 Flo. said ? No, you don't. You turn away your head. Neither 
 do I, B(!ar ; Ave know our Margaret better ; and Basil is too 
 thouglitlul, too considerate, to ask now. Besides — besides, 
 Avliat did he mean, liy Avhat he said this morning ! O ! you 
 know, do you? you are pleased, and yet you know it must not 
 be so. Do you not see that Lotty is not Lotty this evening? — 
 she is weak and foolish. Tell Lolty to recollect her duty, to 
 call up all her resolution ; for to-morrow, Boar, to-morrow morn- 
 ing yon and she will require all the fortitude, all the decision, 
 all the determination, that ever you used before iu your Avhole 
 lives, concentrated in one short half-hour. Via have boi'ne many 
 things together. Bear, and this last trial, this one other duty, is 
 for ]Margaret, our queen. Anything Ave can bear for her, even 
 though we have discovered, even though we feel, Ave half guess, 
 Avhy Ave could not love poor I'hilip, and why — yes, 'tis true, 
 you need not turn away, why Ave shall have this heartache for- 
 ever. But it can be done — it shall. A fond, fooli.sh fancy 
 makes him think he loves L(jtty and Bear. So he does, so he 
 ever will, but not as he is to love ^Margaret. No Aveakncss on 
 our parts shall mar that Avork. Our Margaret has had suflering 
 enough ; with Basil to guard her life, under God's blessing, she 
 Avill know what happiness is. So now. Bear, to bed ; Avhatever 
 occurs to us, still Ave Avould not be Carry and Flo. ; and Avhile that 
 is the case, and our Margaret is happy, what more need we ? "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 315 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 Bear was very unfeeling, being in conduct more like a thought- 
 less, mischievous puppy, than the recipient of a grave and heavy 
 secret ; so that, when Lotty was dressing in the morning, he had 
 to be scolded for childish behavior on sevei'al occasions. It was 
 so early, too, for his little mistress had hardly slept all night, 
 and, as she noiselessly opened the hall door to let themselves out, 
 Bear was quite rude in his efforts to rush past. It was a dark 
 February morning, the stars were yet shining in the deep, 
 gloomy sky, showing, by their little glancing lights, Basil lean- 
 ing against a pillar of the portico. 
 
 " How early you are, Basil ! " said Lotty, at once a stern hero- 
 ine outwardly. " No one is stiri'ing yet." 
 
 " Save you and I, Lotty, which is just what I wished. Mrs. 
 Bankes, in particular, is, I trust, still sleeping." 
 " You seem to be quite afraid of her." 
 
 " How your heart beats, Lotty ! " interrupted Basil, as he drew 
 her arm under his. 
 
 " No, it does not," said Lotty, angrily ; " it is your own. I 
 feel it against my arm." 
 
 " That I am willing to allow," answered he ; " for if I only 
 see Bear's nose, my heart is very much agitated." 
 
 " Bear is off over the fields, so do not put such nonsense upon 
 him." 
 
 "I do not mean to do so ; you know as well as I do, that 
 when I see Bear, 1 expect his mistress." 
 
 They had been walking on during this conversation, and now 
 came to a turn in the path ; to the right was the cedar avenue, 
 dark, close, mystical, — a true lovers' bower. To the left was 
 a stile of three steps, wliich led to a breezy knoll in the park. 
 Basil paused. 
 
 " Lotty, if what I have to say seems to you precipitate, selfish, 
 inconsiderate, impute these sins to Mrs. Bankes rather than to 
 
 me " 
 
 "• You don't seem to like her," interrupted Lotty, in a short, 
 dry tone. 
 
 " I may, ere long, love her, for being the means of ending a 
 suspense that has been hateful and harassing to me. Twice 
 before have I seen the happiness of my life slip from my grasp
 
 816 MARGARET 
 
 through over-many pcniples. I might have -^vaitcd — I wonld 
 have waited yet a' lew mouths more, iu pure delicacy to your 
 mouruiug, but Mrs. Baukes's commuuication to you yesterday 
 relieves me from silence. Lotty, I love you, sweetest, dearest 
 Lotty — I "Nvoo you for my wile." 
 
 " You mistake, Basil," said Lotty, iu a voice that might have 
 come out of a marble quarry, it sounded so hard and cold. Basil 
 made no answer, but suddenly put his arm round the slight 
 waist, and, with one effort, he lifted her up and placed her on 
 the upper step of the stile ; then, with his arm still round her, 
 he knelt on the lower one, and looked straight into her eyes. 
 
 In his she read an answer to her remonstrance, that needed 
 no words. Glowing with the love of a noble, truthful heart, 
 Avith so much of entreaty, that hers beat with pain, knowing 
 what she must do ; with such a world of tenderness, it throbbed 
 with wild happiness that she had gained such a look ; with such 
 a tide of past sorrows, with such a fear of present grief, no won- 
 der that Lotty's slight figure began to tremble with the greatness 
 of her task, and that so many mingled emotions brought the 
 blood in rushing fever to her face. Unable to bear the ardent 
 and entreating glance of those eyes, feeling that blush after 
 blush rose in uncontrollable emotion, Lotty covered her face 
 Avith her hands. But even iu them did the crimson tide run to 
 the finger-ends. 
 
 Nevertheless, unchanged was the firm voice, as she again 
 said : '' Basil, this is a mistake." 
 
 " IIow can I mistake, Lotty?" he answered, in the low voice 
 of a heart's question. 
 
 " You forget the trees of the old forest, and what you told 
 them. You remember not the old house, deep iu the Avoods, 
 Avhose Avails heard your first secret." 
 
 " I remember them full Avell. I had a sorrow, and I gave it 
 to them. I had a grief that required branding from the heart. 
 I laid the burning finger of duty on the place, and it Avas done." 
 
 '• Only to break forth the more luxuriantly, Basil, for the for- 
 titude Avith Avhich it was suppressed." 
 
 " It broke fjrth in a ncAV liirlif, ha]ipy and free — a pure foun- 
 tain, Avelliug up to the lips Avilh brotherly love, as Avas meet, and 
 
 no more " 
 
 But noAv, Basil, now it may floAV as you list. She knows 
 you once lovi'd her ; Harold told her." 
 
 " Billiiuk you, sweet, loving Lotty, so quick to read all char- 
 acters, what man could look at Margaret and ask her to love
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 317 
 
 twice ? Would she act by me thus, in sweet, sisterly fondness, 
 knowing that I once loved her otherwise, if she did not feel I 
 would not insult her with a thought of marriage ? Ah, Lotty ! 
 your usually true judgment is at fault here." 
 
 " Margaret is of a nature so clinging, so fond," whispered Lot- 
 ty, hurriedly, "■ so young, time might accustom her to the thought. 
 Think what a long life to lead, all lonely and mourning ! " 
 
 "• She is not lonely, she never will be ; she thinks of her 
 Harold by day as walking by her side, though unseen ; she sees 
 him in her dreams at night, and communes with him. Look in 
 her eyes, and mark if the remembrance of Harold and his fate 
 leaves them for a moment." 
 
 "It is true her eyes retain the shadow of her grief; other 
 thoughts, another happiness, may restore their light." ^ 
 
 " Not by me shall that pure heai-t, consecrated to its first and 
 only love, be outraged. The love I gave Margaret on her mar- 
 riage, was sacredly a brother's ; and so resolutely was any other 
 torn up by its roots, that even in that lone forest house, most 
 surely beneath those friendly trees, did another bud of love begin 
 to sprout, for a little thing with a child's face and a woman's 
 heart." 
 
 " How very inconstant ! " came from Lotty's lips, in a sort of 
 flighty imitation of Mrs. Bankes's manner. 
 
 " And when we took that drive Avith Margaret to the ruined 
 farm-houses, the bud grew to full and perfect blossom, until, at 
 last, my whole heart is filled with the perfume of it." 
 
 " And yet you suffered me to marry Philip Leigh ! " burst 
 irrcpressibly from Lotty's lips. 
 
 " Ah, Lotty ! my Lotty ! then, if I had asked then, I should 
 not have been refused ; nay, turn not away. Rather pity me, 
 and think of my strange, sad fate, to be twice robbed of my 
 hopes. This must excuse me, Lotty, if you think I have been 
 too precipitate." 
 
 " I have nothing to excuse. If I were going to marry you, 
 I might ask you to wait until the two years are over ; but as I 
 am not, no one need know that you have outraged my delicate 
 feelings of decorum." 
 
 " In the dark, I must have mistaken Mrs. Bankes for my 
 Lotty ; surely — " 
 
 u 
 
 You must not ca,ll me so. And pray let me go, Basil ; it is 
 very cold, sitting like a turkey on the top of a rail, in February." 
 " Then my manhood's hopes are to be dashed lo t1ie ground, 
 like my youth's dreams. You are merciless, Lotty." 
 27*
 
 818 MARGARET 
 
 " If one is to be disagreeable, it is best to do it well." 
 
 " You are free." 
 
 " Good-bj, Basil." 
 
 As he released her their eyes met. 
 
 " Lotty, if 1 consent to wait, that you may have ample time 
 to see hoAV true my opinion is, how mistaken yours, — if I serve 
 for you the time of a Kachcl's price, ay, and double that, — may 
 I hope that you will also " 
 
 '• Wait ! suppose I have the chance of marrying Mr. Bankes's 
 red-haired cousin? Don't ask such a sacrifice." 
 
 " Not for worlds." A sunny light came into his eyes. " He 
 is to be my only rival, then. Say so, Lotty. Ah ! Lotty, make 
 this one little concession to me, on which to hang a ray of hope." 
 
 " What concession ? " 
 
 " You maj-ry red-haired ]\Ir. Bankes or me." 
 
 " I shall be in my grave before the one fact happens, so I can 
 easily promise the other." 
 
 " Thank you a thousand times, and yet a thousand times to 
 that. I begin my servitude to-iuorrow ; it shall be my own fault 
 if I do not prove to you the truth of my opinions ; and if 1 take 
 strange methods to do so, it is but to bring it unmistakably 
 before your judgment." 
 
 "Do whatever you like, only remember my words — you 
 are mistaken, you were mistaken, and if you are not careful, 
 you Avill be mistaken." 
 
 " oNIy choice is made ; cold-hearted, but matchless Lotty, fare- 
 well!" 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 Mrs. Bankes was considerably surprised to find no Lord 
 Erlscourt at breakfast, and still more so on hearing that he had 
 departed for home. 
 
 " Dear me ! is not his departure rather sudden?" 
 
 " Yes, it is," replied 3I;irg;iret, iu calm tones, " I liad no idea 
 he was going this morning, until I heard he was gone." 
 
 " I sui)pu.se to make prcpunitions ? " asked Fk). 
 
 "• 1 have no iloubl of it," answered Margaret, as cuhuly as 
 ever. 
 
 "And when is it to be?" continued Flo., almost gasping 
 with amazement.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 319 
 
 " The moment tlie weather permits," was the quiet answer. 
 
 " In the name of goodness ! Margaret," exclaimed Flo., '"leave 
 off your caps first." 
 
 It Avas now Lady Leigh's turn to look astonished, and, with a 
 faint blush on her fair cheek, she said, "Lord Erlscourt has gone 
 to prepare for a voyage to Holland — but, in fact, I need not 
 explain the matter to you, for you were in the room, half hidden 
 by the window-curtain, Avhen he proposed, and I accepted, this 
 act of true brotherly kindness." 
 
 " And was that all you settled? " 
 
 " You heard the whole," answered Margaret, her dove's eyes 
 beginning to brighten with indignation. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, I Avent away as soon as I could, and I 
 met Lotty, and we two settled it could only be one sort of pro- 
 posal " 
 
 " My Lotty knows her Margaret better ;" and fondly kissing 
 her, Margaret left the room. 
 
 " Well, to be sure ! off like an enraged queen. I wonder you 
 put up with her airs, Lotty." 
 
 " She never gives me any." 
 
 " No, I recollect you never could do wrong ; but, Lotty, I hope 
 you did not go gossiping over with this news to your old Scotch 
 friend ; for if you did you'll catch it, that's all." 
 
 " I will endure Avhat I catch." 
 
 " I know you will, you good little thing ! You are everybody's 
 friend, and nobody's enemy but your own." 
 
 " That is the form of consolation bestowed upon him who 
 loveth good Avine, Flo." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, child ! but I Avish you would listen to reason, 
 from your best friend, I can tell you. Sooner or later, this mar- 
 riage Avill take place, mark my Avords. The higher and more 
 lofty my Lady Leigh holds her head, the sooner Avill she give in. 
 I knoAV precisely Avhat her character is " 
 
 " Ever since you thought it so odd, she did not (to use your 
 OAvn phrase, Flo.) prig my sugar-plums, Avhen Ave Avere school- 
 girls." 
 
 " You are A^ery nonsensical this morning, Lotty ; and where 
 are you going noAV ? " 
 
 " To a hamlet on the road to High Leigh, to take this prayer- 
 book to a great sinner." 
 
 " My dear, I will go with you. I Avant a private chat Avith 
 you, and I may put you in the Avay of doing a gi'eat deal of good, 
 in a sensible way."
 
 S20 MARGARET 
 
 Bear gave a sort of howl, which was either caused by his own 
 peculiar sense of the hoaor, or because Lotty pinched his ear. 
 
 "' Bless that dog ! " exclaimed Flo., on the spur of the start he 
 gave her ; " one would suppose he was a Christian, and waa 
 jealous at my proposing to walk with you." 
 
 " You are very jealous, are you not. Bear?" answered Lotty, 
 pinching again. 
 
 Bear howled to a roar. 
 
 " Lotty, you must leave that dog at home ; I will not go out 
 with sucii a brute." 
 
 " Very well, Flo. — Bear, you are to stay at home." 
 
 Bear trotted off, apparently quite content ; and when Flo. 
 joined Lotty, in her walking dress, she expressed herself highly 
 satisfied that he was not to be seen. 
 
 Lotty laughed, and said, " Don't exult until you are out of 
 the wood." 
 
 On the road to the hamlet, Mrs. Bankes gave Lotty a long 
 history of all her troubles and sorrows : how she and dear 
 Fred, were fearfully in debt ; how old Bankes, the father, would 
 lielp them no more ; how stingy he was, and cross ; and how all 
 might be delightfully arranged and settled, if she would come 
 and live with them, and giving them three hundred pounds per 
 annum, which she would never miss, they might even keep a 
 little brougham. " For, my dear, words cannot tell you how 
 cabmen cheat — they take a perfect fortune. Is this the hamlet, 
 dear? how pretty ! JJless me ! why that dog is very like yours, 
 only he looks more gentle." 
 
 '' Come here, sir," said Lotty ; " did I not tell you, you were 
 not to Avalk with us. Bear?" for it was he, who Avagged his tail, 
 as much as to say he came 1)y himself, and not with tliem. 
 
 *' So you did," said Lotty, in answer to tlie mute appeal ; 
 " tlierefore, if you Avill behave like a gentleman, you may return 
 with us." 
 
 " Lotty, that dog is just a demon, an evil spirit ; if he Avere 
 mine, 1 should cvrlainly have him destroyed. Does he under- 
 Btaud all you say ? " 
 
 "Yes, like a prope-r demon; — but here is my friend Avlioni I 
 came to see. — 1 have brought you a prayer-book, to be ready 
 for next Sunday." 
 
 " Thank yc, ma'am. My missus is main glad I be going to 
 church ; she says I unist get faith to be good, and 1 diunui joost 
 know wiuil failli btj." 
 
 "Your missus had faith, tliat Avhen she rnarried you, you 
 would prove a good husband to her."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 321 
 
 "Lord save ye, ma'am ! I doubt I hanna been that." 
 
 " Does she now think you make her a bad one ? " 
 
 " Bless her heart, no ! my Betsy always thinks I'll mend." 
 
 " Then she has faith." 
 
 "Be that it, surely?" 
 
 " Yes ; and if Betsy has faith in you, a weak, erring mortal, 
 why art thou of so little faith, O man, that thou believest not in 
 the goodness and mercy of God ? " 
 
 " The Lord forgive me ! sure, that's true. Please his good- 
 ness, I'll strive to mend." 
 
 " Lotty, my dear," said Flo., on i-eturning home, "that man 
 is a hypocrite, mark me." 
 
 "Why, Flo.?" 
 
 " He Avishes to get something out of you, my dear, he is so 
 ready to be converted." 
 
 " I think not, Flo. ; he has had a miserable life for the last 
 five or six years. Within these few months Margaret has given 
 him constant work, and the change from want and wickedness 
 to competence, with self-respect, will have its due effect upon 
 him." 
 
 " That is all very fine. You will find him spending all his 
 money at the alehouse, instead of coming to church." 
 
 " Still, Flo., we shall have the satisfaction of thinking we did 
 our best to reclaim him." 
 
 " Poor satisfaction." 
 
 Flo. would not have thought it such, with all her flightiness, 
 if she had seen the meeting of Lotty and her friend at church 
 the next Sunday, and, indeed, for many a Sunday after. 
 
 The look of happiness in Lotty's eyes, as she made her gentle 
 bow of recognition in the church porch, called a blush of pride 
 and pleasure into the rough, coarse face of that sinning man. 
 The rising blood came from a heart on which had fallen one 
 good seed of kindly sympathy, and the spring, once found, never 
 failed. 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 Easter-Tuesday arrived, an important day for Pru. The 
 long, lingering attachment she had evinced for a certain curate, 
 was brought to an abrupt close, and sprouted up with redoubled
 
 322 MARGARET 
 
 vigor and growth into an ardent affection for her rector hus- 
 band. This being the seventh marriage recorded in this book, 
 it fortunately happened to be unlike any of its predecessors in 
 more than one respect. 
 
 First, John Grey insisted upon everybody walking to church. 
 " For," said he, " that will alford Charlotte time to weigh well 
 what she is about at the last moment." 
 
 Charlotte proved her appreciation of his kind thought, by 
 walking more nimbly than usual, which occasioned Lotty to 
 remark, '* that Pru. seemed to fear he might change his mind." 
 
 Tru.'s answer to this unkind speech was alaugh, which she 
 intended to be scornful ; but, alas ! she was little gifted with the 
 necessary comuKjdily to express such a feeling, consequently it 
 was such a merry laugh, John kissed her hand before all the 
 company on the spot. 
 
 Secondly, the wedding was so quiet, Pru. was nearly reduced 
 to having the parish clerk for a bridesmaid, if Miss Rachel 
 Clare had not kindly stepped in to the vacant responsibility. 
 Lotty did propose the twins, but it seemed probable tliat half 
 way to church, the bride and bridegroom would have to take 
 each a little bridesmaid up iu their arms and carry them the rest 
 of the way. 
 
 The third and last peculiarity was, that no smart chaise and 
 four came to the door, with radiant and rubicund-faced post- 
 boys streaming with favors and primed Avith beer. It was the 
 bride and bridegroom who staid at home while all the com- 
 pany went away. " For," said good John Grey, " Mr. Herbert 
 left his parish to my care, and I do not mean to leave it until 
 he comes to resume his duties. Let those who wish it, remain 
 and see mine and my Pru.'s happiness. Those who think such 
 a sigjit would overpower them can leave." 
 
 .So it fell out that tliey all Ici't, " thus," as Lotty remarked, 
 " depriving themselves of all the luck and advantages of having 
 old slioes thrown after the carriage." 
 
 Lady Katherine returned home with Mr. and Mrs. Frank ; 
 Margaret to her mother, at Montagu House, accompanied by 
 Miss Rachel ; Lotty to her own people, who were impatient to 
 liave Iht. So ]\Ir. and Mrs. Laird were the only ])eoplc Avho 
 remained in tlie neighljorhood, and witnessed now and then the 
 happiness of the newly married ; and as they were Scotch peo- 
 ple, with good strong nerves, they bore the sight with the utmost 
 composure and fortitude. 
 
 In April, Basil, with his brothers, departed on his voyage.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAID9. 323 
 
 His letters to Margaret were constant djiring the weeks he spent 
 hovering about that wild and weary spot, whose treacherous 
 sands have ingulfed so many high and noble hearts, and been 
 the dread of all mariners ever since the history of the world. 
 
 Though she had never told them so, Lotty and Basil knew 
 that Margaret clung to the idea of recovering the body of her 
 Harold. It seemed but the one thing wanting, ere she resolutely 
 and forever submitted to her lot. If she could visit some tomb, 
 have something which contained his ashes, and where hers might 
 mingle with them, it would suffice for her tender heart. The 
 restless longing, the ever-recin-ring question, " "Was he i-cally 
 gone ? " appeared but natural ; for her dead had never been 
 removed from her sight. There had been no sick bed, with its 
 hopes and fears, and sad preparation. No last words to be 
 treasured up. No lifeless form, no touch of marble features ; 
 no closing of beloved and loving eyes, the extinction of whose 
 liilht darkened a livina: heart forever. Death takes all these 
 and much more to force itself in all the stern reality upon those 
 who share but one spirit between them. Thus the heaviness of 
 the blow had, for the first year of her mourning, fallen with 
 numbing effect upon her soul, in addition to the gentle endeavor 
 to spare the poor, conscience-stricken mother ; but as the frame 
 recovered its elasticity, so did the feelings become more acute, 
 rendering Margaret more restless and unhappy than she had 
 been at all. Amono; other desires was a wish to visit Cowes. 
 A pining wish to tread in the place his footsteps had last pressed, 
 to see the house he had lived in, and visit the last spots he had 
 touched on earth, took possession of her. As if divining all 
 Margaret felt, Lotty persuaded Lady Katherine to propose a 
 visit to the sea-side for them all, and as the time settled for 
 Basil's return home was approaching, it seemed natural enough 
 for them all to adjourn to the Isle of Wight. 
 
 Here, though eighteen months and more had elapsed since the 
 tragedy occurred, they were too much the object of interest to 
 escape notoriety. So they retired to Bonchurch, making excur- 
 sions from time to time to visit the places Margaret wished. 
 Lotty had expected her to have this reaction ; but she knew 
 that when once the dark fit had passed, Margaret would be for 
 the rest of her lifetime resigned, nay, cheerful. 
 
 Unluckily for their desire to be quiet and alone, the ever-rest- 
 less Mrs. Bankes had seen in the newspapers the account of 
 their arrival at Bonchurch ; and she and Carry being at that 
 time in lodgings together at Ryde, agreed it would, be no more
 
 824 MARGARET 
 
 than neifrhborly, and a proper duty to their former school- 
 fello\V!<, if they left their gay quarters at Kyde, and took up 
 their abode near them. 
 
 To Carry, the change was pleasant ; she cared only for her 
 babies. To Flo., the plan was advisable ; she wished to pursue 
 her designs on Lotty's liberty. 
 
 For in truth, Flo. and her husband Avere much embarrassed, 
 as regarded pecuniary matters. And having been assisted 
 several times by old Mr. Bankes, that gentleman had at last 
 become angry and indignant, flatly refusing to assist them. And 
 in addition to this very uncomfortable announcement, he had 
 favored Mrs. Frederick Bankes with his private idea of the 
 matter, openly declaring it was her extravagance, thoughtless- 
 ness, and love of dress, that was ruining his amiable, but not 
 over-wise son. Flo. was never backward in retorting ; and, 
 therefore, a scene ensued, Avhich rendei'cd it desirable that all 
 parties should separate for a time. Flo. thought it a relief to 
 join even Carry at the sea-side, and was civil to the babies, 
 rather than lose this haven. It Avas, therefore, good ncAvs to 
 know that Lotty Avas so near ; and if she only could persuade 
 her to live Avith them for a few mouths, she felt certain of being 
 restored to favor in her husband's family. They Avere good, 
 kind-hearted people, generous and forbearing, and by no means 
 deserving the character Flo. gave them. 
 
 But their old schoolfelloAvs Avere by no means so pleased to 
 see them, and thought of quitting the field of action, Avhen neAvs 
 came of the return of the " Ripple." 
 
 I'oor ^largaret gave Avay more than she had ever done before, 
 at this failure of her last hope of recoA'ering the body of her 
 Harold. And they let her surfeit herself Avith her grief. Tiiey 
 felt certairt that the remembrance of Harold's last words Avould 
 soon return to her, and the Avish to do all he had so fondly 
 desired, Avould become her daily task. 
 
 Nothing noAV A\-as left to her but the hope of being again 
 united t(j him in another Avorld, that hope he had so ardently 
 expressed himself. But she had a great deal to do, duties to 
 perform, certain things must be done, ere she prepared for that 
 change Avhicli Avould restore her once more, and forever, to her 
 Harold. She must be up and doing — no blot must tarnish the 
 brightness of that hour, no remembrance of tilings undone, no re- 
 morse for time wasted ; she must be able to say- " I have done all 
 that weak human nature could do ; take now lliy servant to rest." 
 
 Basil and Lotty kept strict ward and Avatch over their Marga-
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 825 
 
 ret, that no Invasion of Bankeses and Koystons should vex her 
 perturbed spirit during the few remaining days of their stay. 
 
 Lotty never left Mrs. Baukes's side for a moment when calling 
 at their house, which made that Avorthy person say to herself, 
 " How fond that little thing is of me ! she is a nice little soul, 
 too, and so pretty ; she will make quite a sensation while she is 
 with me." 
 
 Yvniile Basil admired all Mrs. Royston's babies, and witnessed 
 all their various performances with such interest, that she con- 
 fided to Flo. : " It was a sad pity he was not married, and had 
 children of his own." 
 
 "My dear, he is going to be," answered Flo., with vast 
 importance. " When I was down at Court Leigh, the whole 
 matter was intrusted to me, but, of course, confidentially, it 
 being early yet." 
 
 "But, dear Flo., you might tell me," coaxed Carry. 
 
 " Not for worlds," sternly answered Flo., charmed at per- 
 ceiving Carry interested about something besides babies, and 
 conceiving it her duty to be inexorable on that account. 
 
 " It cannot be Lotty," said Carry, sulkily ; " for though his 
 brothers brought her a number of presents, he never gave her 
 one, and hardly speaks to her, that I can see." 
 
 " My dear, be patient, then, indeed, you will see what you 
 will see ; but I cannot have Lotty flirting with those boys — I 
 must speak to her. Presents, indeed ! what business has she to 
 be accepting presents from young men ? — she will get herself into 
 a fine mess." 
 
 "And I heard them asking her for a lock of hair, in return." 
 
 " True, so they did ; but I was glad to perceiv^e that she had 
 sufficient discretion to refuse her own, though she gave them 
 some of the dog's. Ah, me ! I must warn her — it is but a step 
 from Bear's tail to her head." 
 
 It need hardly be mentioned, that before long. Carry was in 
 full possession of all Flo. had to tell, whether true or not ; the 
 love of gossiping being superior to the wish of teasing Carry. 
 
 On the morrow after this conversation, they both agreed to 
 pay a long visit to their old schoolfellows, and spying out all 
 they could, mutually to reveal all to each other, compare notes, 
 and draw their own conclusions. But the visit was not paid, 
 inasmuch as on their road to the house they met the heavy 
 travelling coach and four of Lady Eatherine, well packed and 
 crammed, and caught a glimpse of the old lady, sitting bolt 
 upright, as if still in presence of the gracious Queen Charlotte, 
 28
 
 €>-' 
 
 26 MARGARET 
 
 of the fair, sad face of Margaret, of Lotty, and Lottina, bo- 
 peepiug at each other for amusemeut, evidently one and all 
 prepared for a long journoy. 
 
 " LaAv ! " exclaimed Flo., in a tone of indignant disappointment. 
 
 " Gracious heavens ! " murmured Carry ; ." young Sir liar- 
 old is outside ! on the box ! with the butler ! ! ! " 
 
 CHAPTEK LXXI. 
 
 Trfly they were all on their road home, where they duly 
 arrived, and were welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Grey. 
 
 John Grey said, " Talk of Darby and Joan ! all I can tell 
 you is, it would take six Darbies and six Joans to equal mine 
 and my Pru.'s happiness." Mrs. Laird came over the next 
 morning, and kissed and blessed them all, as if she had not had 
 a moment's peace or happiness since they left. 
 
 " And sae my Lord's aff i' the morrow ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mammy Laird." said Lotty, in her glee and happiness ; 
 *' he has devoted himself Ion": enough now to Margaret ; he 
 must go and see afler his own affairs." 
 
 "I am thiuking he wad hue gcttiu a bit business here to 
 sattle, my bairn, ere he went back." 
 
 " He has no business here, except to do as you do, and that 
 is, spoil us." 
 
 "Iloot! bairn, it's my belief you are come hame more full 
 of mischief nor ever, llae ye quarrelled, hinney?" 
 
 " Such a question ! just as if any one coidd quarrel Avith me." 
 
 " Diiuia ye think owre weel o' yersel' : ay, but ye are the 
 bonuiest thing. — But I'll say nae mair : ouy just tell me, hae ye 
 and my lord no hit it joost ? " 
 
 " AN liat have you been doing, during our absence? taking to 
 bad Avays, I fear." 1 
 
 "He no spaks a word till ye, and he no luiks at ye, and lie 
 gangs nne way, when ye come the lllliir — I diuua understaud 
 it, bairn." 
 
 '"■ Ask him, then, if >^oh are so unhappy ; perhaps out of kind- 
 ness to you, he will say for once, ' My dear Lotty, 1 ho|>e you 
 are wfdl,' or 'have you walked to-day?' or ' have ' " 
 
 "Bo dune wi' a' yer clashing and nonsense. I'll no expect
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 827 
 
 ony sense out of ye, if ye dinua mind, my bonny, bonny, dar- 
 linof thino;." 
 
 It was of no use to ask any more questions, or to find fault ; 
 the very sight of her made Mrs. Laird's heart go pitapat, as 
 if the doctor was sueing again for her maiden hand ; she said, 
 " I'll aye scold her Aveel, byes and byes, but I am just daft 
 v.'i' sight o' her ; surely she is getting more bonny and winsome 
 every day." 
 
 " Now, Lotty," said Margaret, " j'ou and I will spend a good 
 and happy winter. AYe shall be alone ; Basil does not think to 
 come near us again vmtil spring, and my mother must not move 
 in the winter : Lady Katherine will be with her John Grey. I 
 have sent for a number of books, and you must read aloud to 
 me ; we must break Master Harold into learning some lessons, 
 and then you must help me all about the property." 
 
 " Good me ! " replied Lotty, "I am very glad that you have 
 ceased talking. Except for the voice, I thought it was Flo. 
 chattering on." 
 
 Margaret kissed her, smiling, and said, " Saucy thing, Avhy 
 may not I chatter like others ? But I wish to tell you a good 
 thing, Lotty : Messrs. Moneypenny have sent their clerk over 
 here, to tell me another remittance has come from Australia of 
 ^two thousand five hundred pounds, and with the bill is a short 
 note, saying it is to be placed to my account ; and here is the 
 note, Lotty. It is undoubtedly in Mr. Price's handwriting." 
 
 "It is very like it, certainly." 
 
 "See! I have collected some old letters of his, and it is 
 exactly the same. Now, is this not a good thing, Lotty ? " 
 
 " For you, very. Queen Margaret " 
 
 " For me ! Can you not think how good it is that this man 
 repents ? No more will my Harold's name be stained with the 
 stigma, that through negligence, ignorance, or indolence he in- 
 cited a sold to sin. All ! Lotty, what is the money, doubled, 
 trebled, in comparison to that ? " 
 
 " Dear Meg. ! I love you, and think as you do." 
 
 " And now, Lotty, I may, with a clear conscience, raise a 
 monument to his name. I mean no outward show, no vain 
 glorying, no pompous epitaph. In my heart of hearts is my 
 Harold's name written, never more to be effaced from that 
 inn'ermost spot. But I should like, Lotty, in his name, and 
 for his sake, to build that little church. I have money, for the 
 credit side at Messrs. Moneypenny's bank is now in favor of the 
 Coiirt Leigh estates ; and in gratitude to God, I may begin to
 
 328 MARGARET 
 
 spend it in his pervice. The schools, also ! Indeed I have many 
 thinpri' to do before — before " 
 
 " When, 3Iiir;xaret ? " 
 
 " I join my Harold." 
 
 " Ah ! Mariraret, is that the goal of your desires? Is it this 
 idea that makes you -welcome each new day Avith joy, and yet 
 bless the evening of each day as a still greater boon?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, it is this, only this ! " and locking her fair fingers 
 together, IMargaret's foce became changed. Lotty saw, Avith 
 surprise, that her eyes looked upwards, as if she beheld a sight 
 that Lotty could not see. She appeared to think she was alone 
 ■with this viewless vision, for whisperingly from her lips came 
 the words, — 
 
 " Yes, Harold, another year has almost passed ; I am so much 
 nearer to you. I will leave our children well fitted, and of age 
 to cope Avith the world. The name of Leigh shall be honored 
 and blessed. Then, Harold, my Harold, we meet to part no 
 
 more." 
 
 As Lotty marked the Avords, and vieAA-ed the absorption of 
 IMargarct's heart, a flood of liglit flashed up into her eyes, the 
 rosy blood spread hither and thither, high up on tlie snoAvy 
 broAv, and doAvn the little AAhite throat ; brighter, more viA'id, 
 until at last, Avith her face all scarlet, Lotty glanced in a sort 
 of shame-faced Avay at Mai-garet — she Avas still absorbed; so 
 stealing shyly aAvay, Lotty Avent off to hide these emotions, so 
 strange and ncAv to her, in a coA-ert, Avhere not even Bear could 
 find her. It Avas some hours ere they anet again ; both AA'cre 
 restored to their usual state of mind, Avliich in Lotty had con- 
 sisted for some time of a morose character. Very naughty and 
 unloAable she Avas at times. 
 
 " Lotty, dear ! " said Margaret, " I do not think you bade 
 Basil farcAvell Avhen he Avcnt aAvay." 
 
 " No ! " said Lotty, shortly. 
 
 " Have you tAAO quarrelled?" 
 
 " No ! tliauk you ; tliat Avould be taking trouble for nothing." 
 
 " There is something not quite kind about you at present, and 
 I do not know Avhose fault it is." 
 
 " It is a matter of so little consequence, I Avonder you trouble 
 your head about it." 
 
 " Do you deem mc so selfish and unkind that I sec nothing, 
 CA'cn Avliijn it concerns my two dearest and best friends? " 
 
 '* I inipli»-d iiolliiiig of the sort, Margaret ; I hut iusiiuiated it 
 was of no iiiomeut Avhelhcr Basil and 1 were friends or not."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 329 
 
 " Ah ! I have suspected something was the matter for some 
 time. He never writes to you now, or sends you little loving 
 messages, and even calls you Mrs. Leigh." 
 
 " And very proper too. It is high time he should remember 
 that I am not little Lotty." 
 
 " If his conduct pleases you, little, wilfiiL Lotty, then must I 
 be satisfied? But I had a wish, a fond wish " 
 
 " Which you had better scatter to the four winds at once," 
 interrupted the little Bear, Lotty. 
 
 ^ 7^ r^ T^ ^ ^ 
 
 So they passed a busy and quiet winter, during which a faint 
 bloom rose in Margaret's cheeks, that the sharp winter blasts 
 sometimes deepened into a glow. 
 
 Gerald had b^eeu written to about the new church, and had 
 sent his cordial consent and approbation, Avelcoming, as much as 
 his parishioners did, the idea of keeping Mr. Grey among them. 
 
 Lotty insisted upon endowing the new church when com- 
 pleted, for it would benefit the estate of High Leigh more than 
 any other place. " Besides," said she, " it is Philip's legacy — 
 his memorial tablet." 
 
 " Ech, bairn ! it's wonderfu' the rock o' sense in that wee 
 head. I Avad like to see ye do something joost no canny, or by 
 ordinar foolish," said Mrs. Laird. 
 
 " Bear shall pull Cowslip's tail. Will that do ? " 
 
 " Hoot, awa ! at aye time. Miss Rachel, she's no canny, this 
 bairn." 
 
 " Canny or not, Mi*s. Laird, we cannot help loving her," said 
 Miss Rachel. 
 
 " And sae Mistress Herbert's to the fore agin, and they'll be 
 hame the next summer." 
 
 " Yes. She is growing strong, well, and fat ; so it will be an 
 encouragement to us to go when we are miserable and thin," 
 said Lotty. 
 
 "My certie ! when will we see thon? though I'm speering 
 you're no that weel, my bairn." 
 
 " I have thought so for some time, Mrs. Laird," said Mar- 
 garet, just coming up. " I think she pores over those learned 
 books too much, and that makes her " 
 
 " Cross ! " interrupted Lotty. 
 
 " Nay, nay," continued Margaret ; "but I have come to make 
 a proposal — shall we not have the first stone of the new church 
 laid next Tuesday, the fourteenth of February ? " 
 
 " No. I wiU not have it so," said Lotty. 
 28*
 
 330 MARGARET 
 
 " Why, my Lotty, it seems to me, after being dead for two cr 
 three year?, the little Bear has come to life again," answered 
 Margaret, in surprise. * 
 
 " Then that is an additional reason the beginning of so good 
 a deed should not commence on such an evil day." 
 
 " The little Boar has returned without any doubt. Ah, Pru. ! 
 you are ju^t in time," continued Margaret. " AVould you believe 
 it? Lotty is cross." 
 
 " O ! pray excuse me, dear IVIargaret, but I cannot believe it; 
 neither, I am sure, will John," said Mrs. Grey. 
 
 " Nay, judge lor yourself. She will not suffer the first stone 
 of the new church to be laid upon her birthday." 
 
 '■ O I " exclaimed Pru., Avilh great animation, " it must, it 
 shall ! — and it is a most cvirious circumstance, John and mamma 
 settled it on that very day too." 
 
 " Then that decides it, best Lotty ; so, kiss me, and say you 
 are a good girl, and Avill never be so naughty again," 
 
 " Take the kiss if you wish it, Margaret ; but as for the 
 promise, I cannot give it." 
 
 " Now, is she not a little Bear ? " said IMargarct, turning to Pru. 
 
 Pru. was all anxiety to know if she was quite well. The 
 cholera had brokeu out in Newcastle-on-Tyne, and she much 
 feared there was a bad, infectious air about. To which kind 
 concern for her health, Lotty only replied by throwing up the 
 window on* that cold Avinter day, and walking straight into the 
 supposed bad air. But the clear, bracing atmosphere blew 
 away her crossness, and when, iu the afternoon, she and Mar- 
 garet met Dr. Laird, after their brisk walk of three miles, their 
 bloominjj looks called forth his hij^hcst encomiums. 
 
 " That's the way, ladies, that's the way to cheat your doctor. 
 "Walk like that every day of your lives, never mind a driving 
 sleet shower or a snuirt brush of hail, as I see you have not to- 
 day, and you will live, with God's blessing, the allotted portion 
 of mail's life, hale and vigorous to the close." 
 
 " Ech, doctor ! I dinna ken which is bonniest o' them twa. 
 I thought there was nae rosebud like our little leddy of High 
 Leigh, but, with the color in her cheek, and the hap])y light in 
 her eyes, the Leddy Leigh is a picture o' beauty," said Mrs. 
 Laird in conlidciH-e to her husband that evening. 
 
 " I never saw tuo like them, .lanet ; and to think that they 
 should be widows, ])f)or vouug things, both on tliem ! " 
 
 '' Tiu-y wiuna be that laiig, doctor, 1 am thiidiing. I\Iy l^ord 
 Erlscourt kens us weel as we do, they are no to be matched."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 331 
 
 " Hoot, woman ! do you mean to make a Turk of my Lord? 
 
 — he canna marry both." 
 
 " Ye needn't fleech at me, Alick ; I kens what I kens. I'm 
 a Scotchwoman, and we are no given to luve twice. My Leddy 
 Leigh is my Leddy Leigh, and I'll sae nae mair nor nae less." 
 
 "'^You think she will bide so. "Weel, may be ; but, oneyways, 
 Mrs. Leigh has had nae sich heart-grief. If my Lord fancies her, 
 may be she'll no objec." 
 
 " Fancies her ! ech, fancies her ! — and ye ca' yersei' a man 
 o' pairts, Alick ! " 
 
 " Come, Janet, don't flyte out at me like that. I'll agree that 
 I am no so sharp as you in luve matters, if that wuU content ye." 
 
 " I kenned that owre weel afore, man. Fancies her, indeed ! 
 
 — Gang yer ways and get a pipe, doctor, to compose ye, for yer 
 very aggravating this afternoon." 
 
 The doctor laughed, and contentedly departed to obey her in- 
 junctions. So the thirteenth of February came, and all was 
 prepared for the next day's ceremony. 
 
 " There is a letter from Basil, and he says nothing about 
 coming to-morrow," said Margaret, in a disappointed tone. 
 
 " Then I suppose he will not come," answered Lotty. 
 
 " He sends no message to you, Lotty." 
 
 " I did not expect one, Meg." 
 
 *' But he asks after Bear." 
 
 *' You can tell him he has two gray hairs in his tail." 
 
 " Lotty ! Lotty ! — but perhaps he has written to you ? " 
 
 " To me ! — wherefore ? " 
 
 " To tell you Brian is going to Oxford, and Hugh insists upon 
 becoming a civil engineer." 
 
 " That boy was always examining the interior of steam- 
 engines, and pulled everything to pieces, only to find out how it 
 was made." 
 
 " They both send their love to you, Lotty, but Basil must have 
 forgotten his." 
 
 " As I expected none from him, I am not disappointed." 
 
 Margaret tried to read the little Bear's imperturbable counte- 
 nance in vain. 
 
 That night Lotty was again absorbed in thought ere she 
 went to bed, and the great Bear had to touch her more than 
 once. 
 
 " Yes, Bear, I know. But we are in a difficult position. 
 Another year, if not two, must pass. We cannot tell what time 
 may do. Bear and Lotty are not to do anything that they may
 
 332 MARGARET 
 
 hereafter repent. Our Margaret is so mnch better, so much 
 more cbeerl'ul, and slie has so many cares, requiring a man's 
 help. It may turn out to be a necessary good, an absohite want. 
 Tbough we are young, and supposed to be not over wise, we 
 have had our experiences. Bear ; and thus we have reason to 
 think that cluiuges ahnost as startling as the Ethiop cliangir.g 
 bis skin, and the leopard his spots, might occur, and do occur, in 
 this gray, hoary -headed, venerable old world. And Avbat a silly, 
 foolish, childish, not to say wicked, world it is sometimes ! 
 However, we cannot mend it ; we can only do our duty ; and 
 if Lotty loves Bear, and Bear loves Lotty, 1 dare say, wliatever 
 occurs, they will make themselves happy," Bear kissed Lotty 
 after canine fashion, in token of perfect agreement in all she 
 said ; and then Lotty passed with noiseless footfall into the 
 sleeping apartment she shared Avith INIargaret, 
 
 The sound of a low voice made her pause on the threshold. 
 Again were the fair fingers laced together, the upturned face 
 and inspired eyes beholding a vision Lotty could not see, and 
 from the parted lips came Margaret's words, speaking to her 
 Harold, If possible, more fervent, more urgent, more exalted 
 than before were her looks and words, making Lotty blush 
 again with a vivid brightness. But she whispered to herself, — 
 
 " It matters not, 8be mourns her Harold as deeply as if she 
 lost him yesterday. But wait we will, Bear." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 Tins Valentine's-day rose dark, stormy, and snow-ridden. 
 As Lottv peeped out of the Avindow, the light of the candle by 
 whicli slie was dressing made everything appear as if still 
 wrapped in the gloom of a gusty night. 
 
 " Heed it not Bear, we have been out in darker, more stormy 
 mornings than this; we will go into the cedar walk, until tbe 
 day speaks out a little stronger. But after all. Bear, 1 do not 
 think it is so bad — the candle deceived us." 
 
 As she s])()ko, she opened the door and passed out. A band 
 stayed her, and a voice, low but thrilliug, said, as if it asked a 
 momentous question, — 
 
 " Ih iliis my Lotty?"
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 333 
 
 " No, it is Mrs. Leigh," answered she, with somewhat of the 
 freezing morning in her tone. 
 
 " I hope Mrs. Leigh is quite well," answered Basil, taking 
 off his hat, and bowing with such extreme politeness, that a 
 flock of little mad snow flakes, driven by the freaks of the wind, 
 clutched hold of his fair curls to save themselves a further flight, 
 and in their refuge found their death. 
 
 " Quite well, thank you, Basil ; and so is Margaret." 
 
 " Lotty, I must walk with you," exclaimed Basil ; his assumed 
 manner vanishing. 
 
 " Pray do," answered she. 
 
 He drew her arm Avithin his, and they passed on to the cedar 
 walk. 
 
 " And so, Lotty, I am to have no better comfort than this, for 
 acting the part of a dissembler, a hypocrite, the past year? " 
 
 " Hypocrite ! how so ? " 
 
 " Oijliged to smother my real feelings, hide my heart's 
 wish, affect a coolness, that only created a still more burning 
 love " 
 
 " Don't be absurd, Basil ! I will alloAv you have been very 
 good — in fact, nothing could have succeeded better. Margaret 
 imagines we do not care one straw for each other." 
 
 " We ! thank you, Lotty ; if I can persuade you to grant me 
 no more, I can live upon that ' we ' for some time.'-' 
 
 " It was a slip, Basil." 
 
 " 'Twas said ; nothing can drive it from the place where 
 memory has placed it. Now, Lotty, answer me truly. Can 
 you yet so wilfully deceive yourself as to think Margaret would 
 marry again ? " 
 
 " Not at present, certainly," answered Lotty, blushing again, 
 at the remembrance of Margaret's constancy to the dead. 
 
 " And pray, how long will it take to convince you?" 
 
 *' I won't be bullied. Lord Erlscourt." 
 
 " I feel very much inclined to take you in my arms and carry 
 you off, you are so very Avilful," said he. " You were forced to 
 marry once " 
 
 " For shame, Basil ! Take example by that marriage ; if you 
 want me to love you, abide my OAvn time." 
 
 " Concession the second. Thanks, Lotty ; remember, if I 
 seem impatient, the prize I am trying for, and the utter unrea- 
 sonableness of your ideas." 
 
 " AYait until I have proved them such." 
 
 " I suppose," continued he, "that you know, when Millicent 
 returns, Miss Rachel is going to live with Margaret."
 
 334 MARGARET 
 
 " No, I did not. "Who arranged this?" 
 
 " I did ; and that is the reason I prevented her applying for 
 the governess's place at the school in Warrington. 8he shall be 
 governess to young Harold and his sister, and Margaret's com- 
 panion." 
 
 " I am Margaret's companion." 
 
 " Yes, at present, and ^o is her mother. But, by-and-by, when 
 God calls Lady Montagu to the home not made l)y hands, for 
 ■wliich she is so fitted, and a certain "wiltul Lotty may plead 
 Margaret's lonely state as a reason for driving a faithful, loving 
 heart to despair, Miss Rachel will step in as the panacea to so 
 much Avoo." 
 
 " Men are so selfish," ansAvered she. 
 
 " In matters of the heart, Lotty, they ought to be, from justice 
 to tlie merits of her they love. For my part, such is my opinion 
 of the love that an honest and true heart should offer to another 
 heart worthy of it, all the world must be as a grain of sand in 
 comparison. When I am permitted to show my love, but tlie 
 God Avho made her, and gave to me the priceless boon of her 
 affections, shall have my adoration before her." 
 
 " All that sounds remarkably fine ; keep it for a fitting occa- 
 sion. Meantime, without much conceit, let me tell you, Lotty 
 is Lotty to Margaret. No Kachel will take her place." 
 
 " That is true ; in fact, though there is a wilful Lotty, a spoiled 
 one, a childish one, a cruel, merciless, aggravating one, yet is 
 there but one Lotty in the world, and she is matchless. Now 
 do not turn away. I want to tell you, that it is as nuich for 
 Margaret's sake, as for any selfish motive of my own, that I 
 have coimselled her to offer Miss Rachel u permanent home." 
 
 " AVherefore ? " 
 
 " For this reason. There is between these two women a bond 
 so peculiar, that it may be said to have been riveted together 
 with the scalding tears of bitter agony, and therefore no human 
 forge can sever tlie links. As Harold and the Ifttle sister sank 
 together, hand in hand, leaving their earthly frames a prey to 
 the remorseless sea, while their purified spirits rose at the same 
 moment to the footstool of God ; so will these two mourning, 
 but resigned hearts, go hand in hand through the world, each 
 feeling that they are to be to the other a substitute for those they 
 have lost ; each hoping to assist each other during the weary 
 time they must wait God's pleasure. Tims, Lotly, this bond 
 between Margaret and Raclul in no one way affects her love for 
 you. You will still be the bright spirit that will enliven her, tho
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 335 
 
 link that will keep her feelings young, the happy medium through 
 Avhicli light and flowers may yet bloom in her path. But Rachel 
 — the sight of Rachel stirs her up, to be about and do the work 
 allotted her — Rachel, whose little sister died a cruel death, her 
 hand clasped in that of Margaret's Harold, without a murmur." 
 
 " I will never leave Margaret as long as she requires me." 
 
 "And I will never ask you to do so while that is the case. 
 But, Lotty, say something kind to me, give me a little hope ; a 
 Avord, nay, a look ; anything on which to think, on which, when 
 I grow very impatient, I may ponder, and be content." 
 
 "Well, then, I think — yes, I am sure — I like you better 
 than Flo.'s red-haired cousin." 
 
 " Out on you, for the smallest yet most pungent morsel of 
 cruelty ever man met ! " 
 
 " Flo. is very generous in her proffers of friendship and hos- 
 pitality. I get a letter once a month, asking me to go and live 
 ■with her and dear Fred." 
 
 " Pray go, if you wish it," uttered Basil, resigning her arm. 
 
 " By-the-by, Basil, do take care, if we go to the sea-side this 
 summer, that it is in some remote corner of the coast, where we 
 cannot possibly be disco\"ered by Carry and Flo. — But, O ! ye 
 stars, if Margaret is not tapping at the window. How could 
 yoa suffer me to be late for breakfast, Basil ? " 
 
 Basil was in no mood to respond, so he went in to greet Mar- 
 garet, while Lotty ran up stairs to change her things. When 
 she reappeared, so fresh and blooming, with a sad wicked spirit 
 of mischief dancing in her eyes, Margaret met her with very 
 inquisitive looks, saying, eagerly, " So you have been Avalking 
 with Basil?" 
 
 " No," said Lotty, " he walked with me." 
 
 Margaret gazed from one to the other, in a little sort of flush 
 of expectation ; but Basil was calmly cutting a loaf of bread, 
 and Lotty said, " Lady Montagu, here are two violets." 
 
 " I said, you would be sure to come to-day, Basil," began 
 Margaret ; " not only because we are to lay the first stone of 
 the new church, but because of Lotty's birthday." 
 
 "Is it your birthday, Mrs. Leigh?" said Basil, with an 
 assumption of indifference, that would have done honor to a 
 Spartan, while he helped himself to an egg with the utmost 
 solicitude. 
 
 " I believe so," answered Lotty, in a tone to match. 
 
 " I have to beg your pardon for bringing you no offering 
 suitable to the day," continued he, most wickedly ; for all the
 
 336 MARGARET 
 
 time he had n cortain parcel in his pocket, that was to have been 
 
 given, if , A frown passed over his fair brow as this if 
 
 intruded itself. 
 
 " I will endeavor to survive without," retorted Lotty. 
 
 " Do you know you tease me very much, you two," said Mar- 
 garet. '* Did you not always think, mamma, that they were 
 such friends? " 
 
 " The quarrels of friends are the renewal of love, my dear," 
 paid L.idy Montajru, quoting the proverb, for no particular idea 
 that it was at all applicable. 
 
 Lotty grew crimson. Basil glanced at her, and said, with the 
 utmost composure, " I think, Mrs. Leigh, you and I have not 
 arrived at that point of interest, in which a quarrel might be 
 said to attoct us, either in love or malice." 
 
 " I don't wish to quarrel with you, Basil," answered Lotty, 
 recovering herself, " and beg to announce the lault will be 
 yours, not mine, if we do." 
 
 But in the course of the day she took occasion to whisper, 
 " That was very well done on your part, Basil." And so he 
 departed the next day, with only that crumb of comfort, after 
 assisting at the laying of the first stone of the church. 
 
 The day had proved fair, in spite of its stormy commence- 
 ment ; and no heart assisted at the good deed, Avhich did not feel 
 a solemn compact avus made by Lady Leigh, that this church 
 was but the beginning of many good works, which she meant to 
 rear in memory to her Harold. AVithin this house of prayer, 
 she would pray for strength to '' do justly, love mercy, and walk 
 humbly with her God." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIIl. 
 
 Happt was the life at Rose Leigh. John Grey had been so 
 charmed with the name of Pru., he was in the habit of doubling 
 it. It was delightful to see the enjoyment of Lady Katherine ; 
 exjierii'iicing, for the first time, the happiness of a real home, 
 mishucklcd by forms and ceremonies. 
 
 And as if to make amends to the world in general, and to her 
 dcpfudants in particular, for the stately reserve she had formerly 
 kept up, hhe now opened her heart to everybody who would 
 take the trouble of libteuiug to her. We have seen that she was
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 837 
 
 fond of talking at all times, thougli she would in eai'lier days 
 talk only to those she deemed her equals. 
 
 Now it was very different ; she had learned to consider herself 
 but another morsel of dust, distinguished from countless others 
 by little that was good, and more that was bad and unchristian- 
 like. At least, such was her humble judgment of herself, 
 without ever losing the impression that she had lost her sou 
 through her own pride and folly ; she yet only used this remem- 
 brance as a spur to make her more kind, more humble, more 
 charitable to every one. 
 
 Under a stern and severe disciplinarian she would have become 
 a rigid and penance-seeking devotee. Under the gentle, Avholesome 
 doctrine of John Grey, she was being born again, receiving the 
 sweet spirit of a little child. Even her countenance, her speech, 
 the very rustle of her stiff silk dresses, showed the change. 
 Who could have recognized the Lady Katherine of six years 
 before? Never with any pretensions to beauty, yet with no 
 particular bad feature, her appearance had been always rather 
 forbidding from her expression of pride. Cold and stately, she 
 never unbent ; severe and harsh upon little minor faults, more 
 the result of habit than opinion, the eye that met hers trembled 
 to think how she would visit sins and omissions, without being 
 aware she had been taught to consider these minor faults as 
 heinous crimes. 
 
 Always painfully erect, and .always giving voice to equally 
 painful maxims, at the time Avhen this story commences. Lady 
 Katherine could not have pointed out a single person who loved 
 her, out of her own circle ; and within that, to the very centre, 
 not one who did not fear her. In addition to her harsh and 
 unloving countenance, she had a very austere way of dressing : 
 with marked features and strong lines, she did not permit her 
 own gray hair to mellow down the ravages of time by its soft- 
 ening influence on each side of her face, but had a wig of very 
 shining black hair, that divided itself into straight black lines 
 on her brown and wi'inkled forehead, and then rolled itself, or 
 was rolled, into three great curls, that for smoothness and com- 
 pactness of shape, could be compared to nothing either elegant 
 or graceful. Then her dresses were all so remarkably stiff and 
 uncompromising, both in color and texture, that it was sufficient 
 to hear them rustle to make her servants and children fly. But 
 now the black wig was gone, and the smooth bands of soft, sil- 
 ver hair came low on her faded cheek, with the edo'ino- of rich 
 lace all round, making the withered face look fresh and comely 
 29
 
 338 MARGARET 
 
 ■with so fair a frame. And the gentle, pleased expression that 
 had taken tlie phu-e of the cold, luirsh air, did it not tell more 
 than words can describe, that the sweet incense of a Christian 
 heart was implanted within that erect frame ; a warm-hearted, 
 childlike spirit now dwelt where only stately propriety had 
 ruled? 
 
 It was remarkable that, whereas she had always found fault 
 before, now she was always in a general buzz of praise. Every- 
 body was so kind, everybody was so thoughtful, everybody 
 seemed always to be doing just Avhat Avas most proper towards 
 everybody. Not the lowest servant about the place, not the 
 meanest beggar she ever saw, not the smallest child she met, 
 but she addressed. Then Avould she dilate in the twilight 
 evenings upon all he said, and she said, and they said, and John 
 Grey would make comments thereon, Avhilc l*ru. listened and 
 hemmed small frills. Thus they spent pleasant evenings, and 
 the old lady's heart bloomed and expanded under this new and 
 exciting species of life — at least, it was such to her Avho had 
 been dead and cold before. This evening they had a great deal 
 to talk about. 
 
 It was in this manner these three people lived together ; and 
 no wonder, with two such loving, innocent, simple companions, 
 John Grey had all his own way, and twisted and turned them 
 round in the most heai'tlcss manner. 
 
 Suddenly a rival entered the peaceful home ; but John Grey, 
 all unconsfious of the hold he would gain over his Pru.-Pru.'s 
 heart, welcomed his sou with the greatest delight, while every- 
 body who came to see the little stranger, exclaimed, " John 
 Grey," so quaintly and curiously like his father was he. As he 
 sat by his pale wife's bedside reading the Holy Scripture words 
 to her, lie could not but notice how her eyes dwelt fondly on this 
 little image of himself. So kneeling down by the bedside, in 
 a soft wjiispev, that she only could hear, he said, — 
 
 '• I thank Thee, O Father, for this new mercy ; for sparing 
 the life more dear to me than my own ; for giving us another to 
 bring up to thy service. And let the image she has so faith-l 
 fully given him, be a new impulse to me to cherish and be 
 gi-ateful f(»r such love as hers." 
 
 The next event was Lotty's return home from visiting her 
 pcnple, bringing Mr. and Mrs. Frank and the twins with her, 
 and tliey were, like every one else, truly surprised and amazed 
 at young John Grey. 
 
 So the summer came on ; and as it passed away, IMargaret
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 339 
 
 caught herself wishing that the long days were longer still, she 
 had so much to do : the education of her children, the care of 
 her mother, the ordering of her household ; each and all were 
 done, as if each were but the sole business she had. And joined 
 to all these was the well-doing of her large estate, in which not 
 even the cutting down of a tree occurred without her knowledge. 
 
 As autumn approached, they had the prospect before them 
 of welcoming home the long absent Millicent and Gerald. It 
 was on a calm soft evening in October, that Margaret was 
 under the walnut avenue, waiting the glad sight of their car- 
 riage. Two other figures were strolling up the avenue as well, 
 from whom came many a mirthful sound, and laughter such as 
 rings from little silver bells in a sunshiny heart. 
 
 " How merry my little Lotty is ! " thought Margaret, as the 
 sounds rose up clear in the silent air, pealing up into the arches 
 of the fine old trees. " And I — I am happy also ; yes, truly ! 
 I bless God for my life of calm repose, yet never-ceasing em- 
 ployment. Perhaps no rapturous delight is mine ; but then in 
 tumultuous overflowing joy there must ever be reaction. We 
 pay in some measure for an overplus. Life must be consistent ; 
 an even quantity of joy and sorrow, feasting and mourning, is 
 allotted to each of us, if we would but see it. I must be — I 
 am grateful to thee, O God ! " 
 
 " Margaret, Margaret, they are coming ! we see the car- 
 riage ! " exclaimed Lotty. 
 
 In a few minutes they arrived. They were in each other's 
 arms. "Warm, Avelcome kisses were given and exchanged. The 
 length of their absence seemed atoned for by the delight of their 
 return. 
 
 ****** 
 
 How much they had to tell, to see, to rejoice at — how much 
 to listen to, of the life and Avelfare of those they loved so well. 
 Millicent was stronger and better than ever she had felt before, 
 and showed her two little ones with pride and delight. A grave 
 sorrow was in Gerald's eyes ; it seemed habitual there ; but a 
 gentle smile illumiaed his face, with an expression they remem- 
 bered not in him. It was full of love and humility. 
 
 " Lotty ! Margaret is almost like her old self," said Milly, in 
 one of the numerous confidences that were taking place among 
 thena all. 
 
 "Yes; is she not? I look forward to the time when my 
 earliest thought or day-dream will be realized." answered Lotty. 
 
 " What is that, Lotty ? "
 
 840 MARGARET 
 
 " You know it : at least, if you remembpr the green-liOTise at 
 Montagu lliiU, the rooks going home to their dinner, the old 
 Forest home." 
 
 '* 1 remember all this, and say, Basil. But still I cannot 
 guess what you mean." 
 
 " You and ^Margaret must be sisters, indeed." 
 
 " Ah ! Lotty, 1 see it is true Avhat Margaret says : you are 
 changed." 
 
 " In what way?" 
 
 " You nuist be changed, if you tliiuk INIargaret would 
 
 nay, I Avill not say it ; much as I honor and love my brother, 
 higldy as I venerate and esteem such a character, I trust he will 
 never cast a blot upon it, by seeking to marry Margaret. Tell me, 
 Lotty, surely no such thought has stained his upright mind? " 
 
 '•Pray, why should it not? Avhat could be more natural, lov- 
 ing her as he did from her childhood ? " 
 
 "But, ]Margaret, our Queen Margaret! faidtless in all things, 
 she will never — no, I will not believe it, and I wish I had de- 
 layed my return home, if Basil intends " 
 
 " Don't worry yourself. Basil is very far from intending any- 
 thing of tlie sort, to my sorrow. I do not like Margaret passing 
 a long and lonely life." 
 
 " It is not so to her. She has her mother, her children, her 
 cares and estates, that charming Miss Rachel — lastly, and al- 
 most least, you, Lotty." 
 
 " IIow did Margaret tell you I was changed, Milly? " 
 
 " She said you no longer laughed merrily, excepting the 
 evening we came home ; that you buried yourself in your books, 
 and had become pale and thin ; and besides, it Avas privately 
 whispered to me, that there Avere strong symptoms the little 
 Bear was come to life a^^aiu." 
 
 " Sliall I give you a specimen of his ferocity now, Milly? " 
 
 " No, thank you, dear. But, seriously, Margai'ct is \udia])py 
 about y<)>i. Slie thinks you are not pleased that she has taken 
 Miss liachel to live with her " 
 
 " Nay, Heaven forljid ! INIargaret must think her Lotty 
 changed, if she deems her so base as that." 
 
 " Tlii-n, what is it, Lotty? " 
 
 '• I w ill mend my manners, ]Milly, so tliat even Gerald shall 
 Bay I am a true penitent. Think no more of my sins, and let 
 u.i talk of ollic-r tilings." 
 
 " As y<n« like, Lotly, Basil met us at Liverpool, but he 
 ■would not come ou here with us."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 341 
 
 " That was unbrotherly." 
 
 " We are to spend Christmas with him, then perhaps he may 
 return with us." 
 
 " Perhaps, as he will have you to visit." 
 
 " Does he come often to see Margaret?" 
 
 " I believe so. Whenever she wants advice, he flies doAvn 
 on telegraphic wings, which, I presume, are quicker than winged 
 ones now." 
 
 " I thought he had grown handsomer than ever, Lotty." 
 
 " I have not seen him these eight or nine months, I believe ; 
 unluckily, I was always absent when he came." 
 
 " You believe ! how coldly you talk, and so fond of Basil as 
 you used to be." 
 
 " Yes," said Lotty, yawning, " that was when I was a school- 
 girl ; I have become very fond of botany now, and I want Mai-- 
 garet to go to Wales : in Brecknockshire I hear you can find 
 almost every rare Avild flower or fern known in great Britain. 
 Think of that, now, Milly." 
 
 " Lotty, Lotty ! you are a changeling." 
 
 " Both Lotties love you, so do not be angry." 
 
 ****** 
 
 And so at last they all settled into their usual places, and no 
 event of any importance occurred, but that Lotty's mood changed 
 asrain : from bein^ a cross little irritable Bear, she Avas now so 
 subdued, so gentle, so loving, in all her Avays, no one knew how 
 to make enough of her. 
 
 " Bairn, bairn ! what for dinna ye clack on wi' yer bit pratty 
 ways?" said Mrs, Laird, who half disliked her change. " Ye're 
 sae saft and sa douce like, and yer een aye fill wi' tears at the 
 first word ; bairn, ye hae getten a luik like as of anither warld, 
 and I wad I might be in my cauld grave, ere I lost sight o' ye, 
 for ye air just the darlmg of old Janet Laird's heart." 
 
 "After a naughty fit, it is time to be good, Mammy Laird," 
 answered Lotty. 
 
 " Naughty ! Weel, bairn, when ye do harm to ere a body in 
 this wicked warld, Janet Laird will turn highway-woman. Ye 
 hae a trouble in yer heart, bairn ? " 
 
 " Yes, Bear is getting lazy, and loves the fire more than 
 Lotty." 
 
 Bear arose, and laying his beautiful head on Lotty's lap, en- 
 deavored to blink and wink an indignant denial. 
 
 " Aye me ! but thon doggie gets mair sensible day by day — 
 he'll be speaking sune. And sae ye wunna tell me yer trouble?" 
 29*
 
 342 ' MARGARET 
 
 " I have none, but 
 
 " AVhat noo, my licart'.s bairn?" 
 
 " Suppose I should leave you, and go away, would you love 
 me still?" 
 
 Mrs. Laird at first sat down stunned, and then she cried bit- 
 terly : suddenly, looking at Lotty's face, and seeing it half blushes 
 and" half smiles, a light broke into her mind, illuminating the 
 strong Scotch features, bedewed with great tears. 
 
 " The Lord bless us ! No possible, bairn. Bairn, dinna rin 
 like that. Joost what the doctor and me's been a-praying for. 
 Hoot ! the lassie's gane aff like the sna drift, and I'll no catch 
 her. She's joost a bit fairy, wi' her tricks. But I'll aye abide 
 ' her tiuie. My certie, I'll blithely bide a wee, and whatten a 
 gay laugh I'll hae at the doctor." 
 
 " Lotty, love," said Margaret, " why do you make me love 
 you so much? Suppose I had to part from you." 
 
 '' You wouhl miss me, then? " 
 
 " Miss you ! my best and dearest Lotty? Ask the flowers if 
 they bloom without their sunbeams ; ask the birds if they would 
 sing without their mates." 
 
 " Say the word then, and Lotty is yours for life." 
 
 " Only in one way could I bear to lose you, Lotty, and that 
 woidd be no loss, but a blessed gain to me. Two friends doubled 
 fourl'uld by being one." 
 
 " A match-maker ! Margaret a match-maker ! Since you 
 have broached such an extraordinary suljject for you, let me ask 
 you why may not I have the same delight? " 
 
 " I do not understand you, Lotty." 
 
 " Long ago, nay, when we were yet both at school, I built a 
 fairy castle, in which my Margaret reigned Queen, and " 
 
 "Go on, Lotty." 
 
 " Basil, King, dear Meg," said Lotty, in a low voice. 
 
 " Like all school-girls' castles, that was fitly knocked down, 
 Lotty." 
 
 " Yes, for a time ; but now I should like to rebuild it." 
 
 " Is this Lotty speaking to Margaret?" 
 
 "•Yi!s, and she wishes an answer." 
 
 '■ How do i)0(ii)le answer insults? How am I? Can it indeed 
 be Lotty, my Lotty, who gives me this wound?" and Margaret's 
 face crimsone(l willi aii Miiger and indignation ])eauti(ul to see. 
 
 Lotty's eyes were fixed on her ; her own fact- pale as marble. 
 
 "Do you know what love is, child?" continued Margaret, 
 with a sort of pitying scorn.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 343 
 
 " Yes, foi' you," breathed Lotty, low and soft. 
 
 " Love ! where Death's grim, cold clutch is as the touch of 
 your first child's lips, so he spares the beloved one. Love ! that 
 pervades the heart, until earth, sea, sky, and universe seem too 
 small to hold it. A love that the grave so hallows, the lonely 
 one lives on faithfulness, and requires no other food. But stay, 
 you never loved, Lotty." 
 
 " I have a love within me," answered Lotty, " more strcn-j than 
 that ; for life is a trifle to offer at its shrine, in comparison to 
 what I am ready to give. Now, answer me but this one question, 
 Margaret, then spurn your Lotty if you will. You are now 
 twenty-four years of age ; you have a long life before you. You 
 are full of woman's best and sweetest virtues, more fitted than 
 any oae I ever saw for Avife and mother. Say, can you doom 
 to a desolate hearth and lonely home a man whom you have 
 known and liked from childhood ; whose nature is so true to 
 your own ; who gave his young heart, as you know, into your 
 keeping, until forced to tear its very life-pulse out ; whose every 
 thought is noble and good ; Avho is bound to you by ties of cordial 
 sympathy, and by the joint interest of your children ; say, Mar- 
 garet, would you refuse to marry this man ? " 
 
 " Did Lord Erlscourt desire you to speak to me?" answered 
 Margaret, in a voice so strange, so cold, Lotty looked up in 
 wonder. 
 
 " No ! O no ! " exclaimed Lotty. " Basil knows nothing ; I 
 ask for myself alone." 
 
 " I thank God, yes, I thank thee, O God ! that he still remains 
 the fi'iend and brother I require. How could I doubt him ? " 
 continued Margaret joyfully ; " how could I belie for one moment 
 his noble nature ? But for you, you, Lotty, who ought to have 
 known better than even Basil himself, that if Margaret loved 
 once, it was forever ; but in that love she cast all she had ; how 
 am I to answer you ? The natural love of a mother binds me 
 to life ; the bounty and mercy of God have given me tasks to do, 
 which leave but little time for murmuriugs. I am blest in the 
 hope of executing all my Harold's Avishes, leaAang his name 
 untarnished and his children beloA'ed. 1 am twice gifted in 
 having the afl^ections of those around me, and bestowing on 
 them in return all the love I have left. I say in the morning, 
   ' Praise God ; ' and at night I Avhisper my prayer of thanks- 
 giving for a contented heart, a cheerful spirit. I go about the 
 world, I enter with pleasure into all that interests others. Yet, 
 Lotty,
 
 344 MARGARET 
 
 '• ' Neither the angels that live in heaven above, 
 Or the demons clown unckr the sea, 
 Can ever dissever my soul from the soul ' 
 
 of my Harold. You are answered. Farewell ! " 
 
 Marfraret turned away, her fair face flushed and excited, her 
 step and air like a mourning, injured queen ; but already the 
 inspired eyes looked up into the viewless air, and ere Lotty lost 
 slglit of her, the fair fingers laced themselves together. Mar- 
 garet Avas in spirit communing with her Harold. 
 
 " She will forgive me soon," murmured Lotty ; " she will 
 guess her Lotty had a motive." And she went and sat doAvn in 
 one of the quaint old summer-houses which commanded a view 
 of the path Margaret had taken. Bear shoAvcd no sort of sym- 
 pathy witli Lotty's silent mood, but gambolled about in high 
 gusto, as if all the world were charmed with each other, and 
 no breeze had hoard the first words of estrangement between 
 Margaret and Lotty. 
 
 A soft, hurried light was in Lotty's eyes, and a smile came to 
 her lips as she heard the words, " Lotty ! Lotty ! " rising on the 
 air. JMargaret had not been gone half an hom*, after taking that 
 leave of Lotty, almost, as it Avere forever, and here she was fly- 
 ing back with swift footfall, calling on her urgently. 
 
 Lotty came forward, slowly and shyly. But the instant IMar- 
 garet saw her, she ran to her, and lilting up the little blushing 
 face, kissed it again and again, saying, " I Avondered, and Avas 
 so hurt, so A'excd, and I cried bitterly, and I said, ' that Lotty 
 should think thus of me, Lotty Avho loves me so.' Then came 
 her Avords ringing into my memory, as if pealed from the boughs 
 above me : ' I have a love Avithin me, more strong than yours, 
 for life is a trifle to offer at i ■! shrine, in com])arison to Avhat I 
 am ready to give.' I believe' it. Thank God ! Lotty, I need 
 not the sacrifice. Now, you knoAV this, you feel it — nay, turn 
 not away, but bless your Margaret by saying you are happy." 
 
 " I am happy." 
 
 " I know all now," said Margaret, going on ; " everything 
 is plain, that Avas so enigm'atical before. But, Lotty, dearest, 
 most uMsoltish, most matchless Lotty, noAV my castle Avill be 
 built, my dream Avill come true ; your Margaret's only Avish Avill 
 be gratified. But Avhen may I speak openly? I feel sure you 
 have been a cruel, remorseless, imfeeling Lotty, and you must 
 be brougla to reason inuncdiatoly." 
 
 " Now don't, Meg ; liow could I think a^ou Avould be so 
 Billy ? "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 345 
 
 " I like to be silly — I will be so. Ah, Bear ! your day is 
 over. Do not fancy you are the best beloved " 
 
 " No I " interrupted Lotty, hastily. " Bear knows that Lotty 
 is silly enough to like an unkind Margaret the best." 
 
 " I will not be unkind. No, Bear ; for the first and last time, 
 Maro-aret and Lotty have misunderstood each other ; and time is 
 too precious for me to suflPer a moment of estrangement now. 
 Who knows how soon I may lose her ? Who can tell Avhat 
 changes a day may bring forth ? As the miser hoards his gold, 
 as the prisoner cherishes the fresh air, so must I hold and love 
 my treasure while she is mine." 
 
 " I will never leave you, if you Avish it, Queen Meg." 
 
 " Perhaps I may demand the sacrifice ; but wait until I do." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 So the fourteenth of February came again. 
 
 " My Lotty, are you not early? the clock has only just struck 
 six," said tlie sleepy Margaret, as Lotty rose to take her morn- 
 ing's walk. 
 
 " Good night, then, and go to sleep again," answered Lotty ; 
 "because. Bear," continued she, when in her dressing-room, 
 " we must get out of the way, and hide ourselves. It won't do 
 for us to go and meet anybody this morning — we must be there 
 first." 
 
 But somebody seemed to know with whom he had to deal. 
 For, again, as Lotty passed out in the dark morning, did she 
 hear the words, low and tender, — 
 
 "Is this my Lotty?" 
 
 Bear gave a short, deep tone of recognition and delight, — a 
 mode of expression he never indulged in but on extraordinary 
 occasions. But there was no other sound. 
 
 " Is this my Lotty?" again was heard, in accents this time 
 troubled and sad. 
 
 A little hand was put into Basil's ; he clasped it with a force 
 that almost crushed it into nothing, and, with a cry of irresisti- 
 ble happiness, drew the slight form, for one brief moment, close 
 to his heart. Then, with one arm round her, he bore her 
 swiftly to the cedar walk. There, on that Valentine's Day, be-
 
 346 MARGARET 
 
 fore even the birds vrcre awake to settle their own betrothmcnts, 
 ■words of love and v^ws of constancy had been given and ex- 
 changed ; and tlie snn broke out in liigh refulgence, as if to rat- 
 ify the contract with his bright presence. 
 
 Margaret had not followed Lotty's advice, and turned to sleep 
 again. On the contrary, she also rose early, and as the lovers 
 crossed the lawn from the cedar walk, they saw her sweet face 
 anxiously watching from the breakfast-room window. They 
 could see her happy start, they knew she disappeared onl}' to 
 meet them at the garden door, and, ere they thought she could 
 be there, she was out, shawlless and bonuetless, but glowing 
 with so nuich delight, she heeded not the keen February air. 
 
 " My Lotty ! — dear Basil ! — tell me quickly, am I to asso- 
 ciate evermore two such loved names as one ? " 
 
 " I have caught her at last, Margaret ; but, unless I have 
 your help, she may escape me yet ; she is the most Avilful " 
 
 '• Dearest, sweetest, best Lotty iu the Avorld," interrupted 
 Margaret. 
 
 " I grant it, she is all that, and much more, and I will tell her 
 80, as soon as ever she has told you she loves me. I must have 
 a witness, IMargaret ; and until your hear her say it, I am not 
 6ui-e of her." 
 
 " You must give her time, Basil." 
 
 " Time, dear ^Margaret ! I asked her to marry me two years 
 ago, and she has never vouchsafed me a civil Avord or kind look 
 since. Judge if I have not reason to be alarmed." 
 
 All this time, it was beautiful to see Marjiaret caressing and 
 fondling the little blushing, shy thing, and most wonderful to 
 behold the glowing delight of Basil, expressed in his radiant 
 eyes and smiles. But Lotty would say nothing he required. 
 She said, ''Bear loved him, and she did not dislike him;" and 
 with that he was forced to be content. 
 
 So now Margaret took Lotty up stairs, that she might tak& 
 oflf her walking things, and prepare for breakfast; and she hov- 
 ered about her, and waited upon her, as a nurse waits upon the 
 petted child. 
 
 " Two years ! — how could j'ou be so cruel, Lotty? " 
 
 " I did not know — I could not tell — 1 have been very un- 
 hai)py," murmured Lotty. 
 
 " Ah, my l)est one, all for me ! How lucky it was that I was 
 BO hurt and angry. Then you must have been convinced. But 
 turn. Lotty, look at me wilii yoiu" dear, most truthful eyes. 
 Coufcsa to youi- Margaret that now you know what love is.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 347 
 
 Now you can feel that all she said was the living, naked truth. 
 Once love truly, 'tis love forever. Now comfort your Margaret 
 by saying you feel and know it ; then she will forgive herself for 
 ever being cross to her Lotty, or misunderstanding her." 
 
 " I feel, I know it," whispered Lotty, blushing and trembling, 
 and then trying to look defiant and indifferent. 
 
 " Of all the things that could happen to me in this world, 
 nothing ever joleased me more, or could benefit me so much. 
 Don't you see, Lotty, you have now given me a real brother? 
 Now I may make use of Basil's services twice as much again as 
 I have lately done, because, you know, Lotty, the world is such 
 a strange one — so rude, so far from generous." 
 
 " There is the breakfast-bell. Queen Meg." 
 
 They went do-wn together, and, as they opened the door, Basil 
 met them. Lady Montagu and Miss Rachel were also in the 
 room. AYithout the smallest preparation, but with the greatest 
 coolness, and, as Lotty afterwards said, " impudence," Basil at 
 once took her hand, and leading her up to the two ladies, said, 
 " Allow me to introduce to you my future wife. I am obliged 
 to do this," continued he, apologetically, " not only because I 
 am impatient for all the world to congratulate me on my happi- 
 ness, but I wish it to be as publicly known as possible, that she 
 may not retract." 
 
 Tliey were quite as much charmed as he meant them to be, 
 and in the state of excitement into which they all fell, breakfast 
 ran great danger of being utterly forgotten. 
 
 " But I cannot think, Basil, why you have been so cold and 
 indifferent to her all this time," said Lady Montagu, " telling 
 me, as you do, how long you have loved her." 
 
 " I was obeying her wishes, as I supposed. She had a pur- 
 pose in her heart, and I had one in mine. We each took our 
 own methods of fulfilling our secret wishes, and I certainly tliiuk 
 I have shortened my probation by the excessive care I took to 
 show I was indifferent to her. Now, my Lotty, confess, the 
 more I was a wretch and hypocrite, the more you thanked and 
 loved me ! " 
 
 " You will upset the cream-jug, if you are so fidgety," was 
 all Lotty's answer. 
 
 "Margaret, have you any message to Rose Leigh? I must 
 run across for a private business of my own." 
 
 " Now, Basil," began Lotty. 
 
 ''What, my Lotty?" answered he, turning his beaming, 
 smiling eyes upon her, and enjoying her confusion. " Nay, yoa
 
 848 MAEGARET 
 
 must let mc be the bearer of my own frood ncAvs. You have had 
 }i)ur May lor two years ; give uie tliid one day, aud you shall 
 have two years more." 
 
 " A bargain," said Lotty. 
 
 '' "We will seal it," answered he, " on a fitting occasion." 
 
 As Basil entered the di'awing-i'oom at Kosc Leigh, every one 
 of the inmates exclaimed, as they looked at him. 
 
 '• "What good news do you bring us? " said Lady Katherine. 
 
 " Dear, dear ! — what charming thing has happened ? " said I'ru. 
 
 " He is going to be married !" cried John Grey ; and to add 
 force to his words, down Aveut his hand Avith such hearty good 
 Avill on the table, that all the cups, saucers, spoons, and forks 
 skipped up in indignation. 
 
 " Nothing but matrimony could make him look thus ; I did 
 just the same, my Pru.-1'ru." 
 
 '* lie does look happy," said Lady Katherine ; " but I hope he 
 is not going to be married ; Ave cannot spare him to a stranger." 
 
 " It is not a stranger," said Basil, more radiant than ever. 
 
 " Mrs. Leigh," exclaimed John Grey ; and doAvn Avent the 
 hand on the table again, aud the forks and spoons skipped 
 higher than before. 
 
 '■'■ Lotty, sweet, dear, darling Lotty ! Say it is Lotty, and none 
 Avill rejoice as Ave do." 
 
 Of coui-se, they must instantly start off to kiss and bless her. 
 
 " "Wait for your A\Tapper, mamma," urged Pru. 
 
 " Stay, my l^m.-Pru., until I procure your clogs," commanded 
 John Grey. 
 
 " I must go at once to bless the darling child ! " exclaimed 
 Lady Katherine. 
 
 "My sAveet, darling Lotty!" said Pru., half crying, half 
 laughing. 
 
 But Margaret kncAA^ Avhat they Avould Avish, and had antici- 
 pated tliem. There she Avas iu the (lt)i)r-Avay, and behind they 
 caught a glimpse of a little figure, lluw she Avas kissed, con- 
 gratulated, and blessed ! How they Avondered, and rejoiced, aud 
 chattered ; leading one to imagine that Lotty had been born for 
 no oilier j)iir|)Ose than to marry Lord Erlscourt, and that the 
 Avlidlc wdiUl had leagued lliemselves in terrible array, for 
 months and years, to prevent the marriage. But that he, Avitli 
 the courage and fortitude of the celebrated young man in the 
 Arabian Niglits, liad surmounted time, dilficuhies, and troubles, 
 uti <:reat as his, in the journey to the unknown islands of Wak- 
 "Wak, and liku him, hud rescued aud recovered his winged aud 
 beautiful bride.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 349 
 
 CHAPTER LXXV. 
 
 " I WISH to know, Basil, how you came to think of loving 
 me ? " asked Lotty. 
 
 " I wish to know, my Lotty, how I could help it? " said Basil, 
 in return. 
 
 " But you knew very little of me before ; that is, you know, 
 you had so many things on which to bestow your attention, I 
 never imagined you had any for me." 
 
 " I am sorry to make myself out such a hypocrite then, for I 
 do not think I ever missed a word you said, or anything you did. 
 I am too happy now to tell you what I endured when I heard 
 of that hasty marriage ; for I then found out 'that I was not 
 smitten with your prettiness, or your sweet wilful ways, but 
 that I had reckoned upon trying to win the affections that would 
 be to me the true and only panacea for my early disappoint- 
 ment." 
 
 " Ah, don't be too sure. You cannot think how wicked I can 
 be, if I choose." 
 
 " Be as wicked as you like, I shall only be too glad to punish 
 you, and I shall be very glad if you will give me a specimen 
 now, as I have a punishment all ready, which I am dying to 
 inflict." 
 
 " Nay, tell me the punishment first." 
 
 " I should carry you off to church, and marry you on the 
 spot." 
 
 " That is too severe. I am sure Flo. would pity me, if again 
 I had no opportunity of being married in a grand dress, and 
 having a trousseau." 
 
 " Do you know, Lotty, I feel for once in my life pleased with 
 and grateful to Mrs. Bankes. The alternative between her offer 
 and mine, I imagine, gave me a favorable lift, at a time I most 
 required it, for you are so wilful, Lotty." 
 
 " I see no wilfulness in my wish not to burden you with a 
 wife, whom, perhaps, after a year's marriage, you would have 
 discovered you did not love as you loved before." 
 
 " Come, now, that is a very wicked speech ; you must be 
 punished." 
 
 " Bear, Bear ! " cried Lotty, struggling from his grasp. 
 
 "It is of no use your calling Bear, for he has been my 
 30
 
 350 MARGARET 
 
 confidant these two years, and gave his consent long before you 
 did." 
 
 " I won't submit to be kissed in the public road, whenever 
 you choose." 
 
 " Then I will wait until wo get into Mrs. Laird's drawing- 
 room, lor punished you must be." 
 
 Lotty, however, gained the victory ; for, instead of following 
 him into the drawiug-room, she was up the stairs and out of 
 sight before he could catch her. 
 
 Mrs. Laird, upon hearing the news, sat down and cried like 
 a child, which she said was all for joy. 
 
 Then they all adjourned to Court Leigh, and there the business 
 of the day began. Lotly was to receive her presents, and read 
 innumerable letters, while many more had to be written, so that 
 Basil grew very imi)alicnt at all this monopolizing of his Lotty, 
 
 When the dinner hour approached, Mr. and Mrs. Laird ap- 
 peared — she in brilliant satin and Limerick lace cap, and he in 
 his best apparel, with his wig put on quite straight, to do honoi* 
 to the day. 
 
 " My bairn, what hae ye gotten in that bonnie box?" said 
 Mrs. Laird, as she took her wrapper off, in Lotty's room. 
 
 " Lord Erlscourt's birtlulay present, ma'am, to mo." 
 
 " And whatna a sort of present is it, my bonnie bairn?" said 
 Mrs. Laird, eagerly. 
 
 '■' I have not looked at it yet?" 
 
 " Ech me, to hear that noo ! For my sake open it, and let 
 me see, bairn." 
 
 Lotty drew forth a long necklace of golden links, that matched 
 her bi-acelets ; but like dew-drops on a hot summer's night, lay 
 a lu.-irous diamond on each link. 
 
 ''• Lch me, but you man's a princely giver ! My word, but 
 them':; matchless, bairn, and sae just fitting for you ! " 
 
 Till' little, small, white throat gleamed with sparkling beauty, 
 for Mrs. Luird insi.-ted on her wearing it this one night. And 
 as they looked at and admired the way in which the bright 
 circlet set olf Lotty's fairy beauty, Mrs. Laird whispered to my 
 Lord, — 
 
 '' I dinna think, my Laird, ye hae matched her eyes, yet." 
 
 " I quite agree with you," said he in retui'n. 
 
 • •«**♦ 
 
 The State of commotion into which the Bcauvillian line fell, 
 ■was wonderful. This was a proper match for their girl. It 
 should be celebrated as such a marriage deserved.
 
 AND HER BEIDESMAIDS. 351 
 
 The settlements offered by Lord Erlscourt were munificent. 
 What they meant to give back in return should be proportion- 
 ate. But above all things in the world, one thing pleased them 
 — their girl looked radiantly happy, and she had whispered in 
 her brother Norman's ear that she loved at last. Nothing 
 should mar the celebration of this wedding, at all events. It 
 was to take place at the village church of Beau Court. Her 
 eldest brother charged himself with all the arrangements and 
 expenses thereof, while other brothers took other duties, and 
 uncles and cousins came in to help. And Avhile all these events 
 were occurring, and the whole country in a commotion, there 
 sat in a little back street in London, in a little dingy parlor, 
 a lady, — that is, she did not look much like a lady, for she was 
 in a dressing-gown, witli disordered hair, slippers down at heel, 
 and what appeared to be an unwashed face ; and she was warm- 
 ing herself by the fire, seated in anything but an elegant atti- 
 tude, and reading the newspaper with anything but amiable 
 feelings. 
 
 " Humph ! Here is our old gentleman appointed one of the 
 governors of the Bank of England, and yet he suffers a son like 
 Fred, to live in such odious lodgings, with half the pittance we 
 ought to have, because we got a little into debt. It is all very 
 well Fred, saying that he helped us three times, and that he 
 won't sit and listen to me abusing his father, — but he shall 
 hear my mind. I am not going to be drowned by any of them. 
 I have made him suffer pretty well for not allowing me that new 
 bonnet ; though, to be sure, I have found it very dull moping 
 here all by myself of an evening. But it is no fault of mine. 
 He said I should not have the bonnet, because his fatlier would 
 think his promises of retrenchment false if he saw me going 
 about with such a handsome thing — and so it was, a love, and 
 so becoming. And I said he should have no dinner until I 
 had it. No more he shall, here. He may go and dine on a 
 miserable mutton-chop in the city, for I have taken good care he 
 shall not have above a shilling in his pocket when he goes out, 
 that I may be able to tell his stingy old father that I am econom- 
 ical, at all events. Jupiter Ammon ! what do I see in the court 
 news 
 
 '•'• ' Lord Erlscourt about to lead to the hymeneal altar the 
 beautiful Mrs. Leigh, of High Leigh, Cheshire.' 
 
 " The little, sly, unkind thing ! Never to tell me, or to say 
 one word. Or I wonder has she cut Margaret out. Dear me ! 
 Perhaps it is a mistake. No ! it cannot be. They say, early iiu
 
 352 MARGARET 
 
 May, the marriafrc takes place. I will write her — to be sure I 
 ■will ; 1 will ottl-r my services to select her trousseau. This time 
 it will be a tittiug oue, I hope. I will write her such a letter, 
 that she cauuot help asking me to the weddiug. Then I must 
 have that bouuet to go there. I will seud a note into the city to 
 Fred., to say he may come to dinner — poor fellow ! I long to 
 talk over the news with him. I will send out now and get him 
 a nice beefsteak, and a slice of cod, to be ready by half past six, 
 with some scalloped oysters. Won't he enjoy it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Bankes did all she intended, and welcomed dear Fred, 
 very a\ armly. But she was disappointed in seeing him enjoy 
 the feast she had prepared for him. He hardly tasted a mouth- 
 ful of fish, he said it was so woolly ; and he turned up his nose 
 at the beefsteak — there was no Worcester sauce to it; and the 
 scalloped oysters had no cayenne pepper in them. 
 
 " Why, Fred., after dining on nothing in the city for the last 
 three days, I certainly thought you would have been gi-ateful for 
 this nice feast that 1 had prepared for you." 
 
 "I did not dine in the city." 
 
 " Good heavens ! I hope you have not been running up a bill 
 at some club." 
 
 "No, of course not ; I always dined with my father." 
 
 We will draw a veil over Mrs. Baukcs's discomfiture. 
 
 No wonder " dear Fred." could eat nothing at home. 
 
 Pcre Baukes was celebrated even iu Londou for his French 
 cook. 
 
 CIIAFTER LXXVI. 
 
 Gerald, at Lotty's request, was to marry them. But Basil 
 said he nuist have John Grey to " assist," because, without 
 regarding tlie fashion, as it now seemed to be, he deemed it 
 would certainly require the offices of two clergymen to bind 
 such a little myth, such a wilful, way^vard thing, in the bauds 
 of holy matrimony. 
 
 '• liut," sail! .bilin Grey, "I have heard a strange story, a 
 word missed — or rather not heard — it is thought, unuttered ia 
 the marriafrc service; I give due notice, unless I hear every 
 syllable distinct and plain, I shut uiy book and " 
 
 " Make yoursell' very disagreeable," retorted Lotty.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 353 
 
 " I shall do it," said the good John, his eyes twinkling, " as 
 sure as I love my Pru.-Pru." 
 
 " There is an idea running loose about the world, which ven- 
 tures to insinuate you love Lady Katherine more than Pru.-Pru." 
 
 "An idea I glory in," laughed he. " I must away to tell it 
 to my Pru.-Pru." 
 
 Lotty duly received Mrs. Bankes's letter, and returned for 
 answer, that she was much obliged for all her kind congratula- 
 tions and offers of assistance. But she was sure Flo. would be 
 glad to hear she was having a very proper and correct trousseau 
 prepared for her ; and believed that this time she should cer- 
 tainly be married in a wedding-dress. Nevertheless, she took 
 no notice of the broad hint, purporting Mrs. Bankes's ready 
 acceptance of an invitation to the interesting ceremony. 
 
 So Mrs. Bankes wrote again ; and this time pointedly ex- 
 pressed her ardent wish to be present, on an occasion so pecul- 
 iarly trying to her dearest and ever-beloved Lotty ; and wound 
 up with a list of the various talents she could bring to bear, so 
 as to render her presence both agreeable and highly convenient. 
 "Whereupon Lotty returned for answer, that she had no power to 
 give any in\'itations, and recommended Flo. to comfort herself 
 with the reflection, that it must necessarily be a very indifferent 
 sort of an affair, because of her having been married before. 
 No white gloves, no white dress, no favors, not even bride-cake. 
 She was sure she was doing a kind act, sparing Flo. the inflic- 
 tion of witnessing such a mutilated ceremony, &c., &c. 
 
 But the good Beauvillians were not at all disposed to be 
 inhospitable on such an occasion, and had already settled that 
 every single individual who had ever had a liking, or glimpse, 
 or interest in "their girl" should be invited, even if all her 
 schoolfellows chose to be of the number. They had room 
 enough and to spare among the numerous kindred ; and accord- 
 ingly upon Mrs. Frank fell the lot to invite not only Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bankes, but Mr. and Mrs. Royston. 
 
 When Carry first received the invitation, a little clause had 
 been somewhat advisedly inserted in the letter. " So large an 
 assemblage was expected, Mrs. Frank was much afraid she had 
 no room to spare for children ; in fact, if possible (she must 
 beg them to excuse her apparent inhospitality through the 
 urgency of the peculiar circumstance), she Avould be greatly 
 obliged if they brought but one servant." 
 
 No children ! For the first time in her life since she had been 
 a mother, was such a proposal made to her. Of course she 
 30*
 
 854 MARGARET 
 
 could not go. The grandest wedding in the world would not 
 tempt her to leave her darlings. 
 
 " I wish you would accept it, Carry, dear," said her husband, 
 wilh an cagerue:?s rather uuusual in him. 
 
 '* "What ! can you leave your horses and dogs ? " demanded she. 
 
 " Yes, Carry, I have taken a great fancy to go, and you ^vill 
 oblige me much by accepting the invitation. I can assure you, 
 it is a sad life I lead, going about from place to place, as if I 
 was a bachelor, and had neither wife nor children." 
 
 Carry's heart smote her, as she heard these unwonted tones 
 from her rough 'squire. 
 
 " I will accept ; and then if any of the children should be ill, 
 or likely to fret, you can take my excuses." 
 
 " Thauk you, Carry, for conceding so much," answered he, 
 rewarding her after his own boisterous fashion. 
 
 Perhaps '.Squire Royston would not have succeeded in his 
 wishes, but for a letter Carry received from Flo., as follows • — 
 
 " Mv DEAR Caroline : 
 
 " Of course you have heard of the splendid match my dear 
 Lotty is about to make. The ceremony is to take place, after 
 Easter, on the 23d of April, and I am extremely busy prepar- 
 ing all my little matters. For, of course, dearest Lotty insists 
 on my attending the wedding, which, however inconvenient, I 
 could not deny her. You may rely upon my sending, you every 
 particular; I shall make a point of writiug to you iuunediately 
 alter the ceremony, which you may be sure shall lose nothing in 
 iridt from my presence. 1 hear that all the world are asked, 
 and every house in the neighborhood is to be crammed ; but, 
 of course, I shall be near the bride — in fact, under the same 
 roof. I suppose you will not leave the darling children, other- 
 wise, I dare say, I could get you an invitation. However, be 
 assured I will not forget you, and remain ever, your affectionate 
 BchoolfcUow and friend, Flukkntia BAMUiS." 
 
 Flo. always signed herself thus, when on " stilts," as Lotty 
 termed her grand modes, 
 
 " Upon my word ! " exclaimed Mr. Royston, indignantly, after 
 
 reading the letter, " if that is not the most iujpudent " But 
 
 jierhaps it is as well to leave to the imagination all the 'squire 
 said. " Now, Carry, if you don't go, alter reading that letter, 
 I — I'll — yes, I will ; that is, 1 shall have to go aud horsewhip 
 Banked. "
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 355 
 
 "0, dear Robert, be calm, he might call you out — there 
 might be a duel ; if my poor children should be fatherless " 
 
 " Come, don't cry ; as regards my fatherly attentions, they 
 won't miss much, but that is your own fault, Carry. I am not 
 allowed to touch my children, lest I should crack 'em or damage 
 'em." 
 
 li 
 
 I think I will certainly accompany you now, Robert ; that 
 is, if all the darlings remain well." 
 
 " I devoutly hope they will, then ; and I'll tell you what I'll 
 do. As we are only to take one servant, that will be your maid, 
 of course, and I will leave my man, Bendeth, to ride every 
 morning to the station, and telegraph down how the young pups 
 
 are." 
 
 " Pups ! " 
 
 " Children, I mean. Carry." 
 
 " O ! thank you, dear Robert — how thoughtful and kind of 
 you. Certainly, I promise to go now. I like Flo.'s imperti- 
 nence, indeed ; Lotty was quite as partial to me as to her." 
 
 " She is not what I take her to be, if she is not a deal more 
 fond of you. That Mrs. Bankes is " But again we pause. 
 
 So the important day came ; they were invited to appear on 
 the 20th, that they might have three days' enjoyment of Lotty's 
 society beforehand. 
 
 Lucky it was for the 'squire, that they were soon puffing 
 away on the railroad ; for the first half hour Carry was very 
 tearful, and had she been in an ordinary carriage with horses, 
 might have turned back. But he ensconced her safely in a first- 
 class, and was so attentive, and endeavored to make himself so 
 agreeable, that having a really tender heart, Carry could not but 
 dry up her tears and be comforted, out of very gratitude for 
 such unwonted exertions on the 'squii'e's part. 
 
 By and by the excitement of the journey, the freedom from 
 maternal anxieties, the number of miles that were now inevita- 
 bly placed between her and her darlings, had their due effect, 
 and she began to smile and enjoy herself quite like the Carry of 
 bridal days. 
 
 " I say, Carry, I never told you Avhat I did, my last trip to 
 town. I know you seldom think of yourself, so I went to your 
 milliner's, and ordered you a few nice dresses, and head-gear, 
 and such like. Of course, I did not venture to use my own taste, 
 but I told Mrs. Atkins, if you liked them, and looked nice in 
 them, I would pay her bill within the month ; but if she palmed 
 off any of her trash to me, she might whistle for her money for 
 the next two years. That's the way I serve my tailor, Carry."
 
 356 MARGARET 
 
 " O Robert, how kind you are ! Why, I always thought you 
 cared for notliinir but horses and dojrs." 
 
 " Humph I Well, I am rather given that way ; but still, 
 does it not strike you. Carry, that a change comes over one now 
 and then? I don't think I can pass all my life in the dog and 
 horse line, eh, Carry ? " 
 
 " No, Kobert, I should hope not." 
 " And yet. Carry, wlien I do stop at home, what happens? " 
 
 Carry blushed, and was uneasy. 
 
 " Never mind, 1 don't want to upbraid. If you are pretty 
 happy this visit, perhaps you and I may come to some sort of a 
 bargain for the future, and cacli give way a little. But here is 
 iSwiudon — now what Avill you have? " 
 
 "Nothing, thank you." 
 
 " Then I'll go and see after the luggage, and get a glass of 
 •wine for myself." 
 
 lie, however, soon came back, his handkerchief almost con- 
 cealing his face, Avhile he indulged in hearty but suppressed 
 laugliing. 
 
 " They are here. Carry, in the train with us. By the Lord 
 Harry ! I would not miss her seeing you at Gloucester for a 
 mint of money ; keep close. Carry, Ave Avill have a Siddonain 
 scene then. It was so lucky she is sucli a chatterpie. I Avas 
 just going into the refreshment-room, Avhen I heard her ha- 
 ranguing poor ' Fred.' Such a dressing as she gave him, for 
 leaving her exposed to the gaze of the multitude. She had 
 brought a maid Avith her — it Avas her business to look after the 
 luggage, not his. Heaven help that poor little mauuikiu ! he is 
 properly henpecked." 
 
 The 'sfjuire Avas so pleased Avitli the idea of Avhat Avas to come, 
 that he had not ceased laugliing when thry arrived. Curry hav- 
 ing the advantage of foreknowledge, Avas fully prepared for the 
 interview at Gloucester station: but Flo.'s start and exclama- 
 tion fully ausAvered Mr. Koyston's expc<-tations. 
 
 '' My lieavens, Carry ! what arc you doing here?" 
 
 " I am on my way to Lotty's Avedding," answered Carry, 
 composedly. 
 
 " And who aski'd you?" exclaimed Flo., with un ellort, en- 
 deavoring 111 liiiii' lui- discomhture. 
 
 "The sanu'. person that asked you — Mrs. Frank Beauvil- 
 liers. I thought it useless to answer your letter, as 1 should 
 have the pleasure of seeing you soon," coutiuued Carry, with 
 sjtirit.
 
 IT 
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 35 
 
 Flo. was for once silenced and put down. But not for long. 
 
 " Flo.," said Mr. Bankes, " how many boxes have you?" 
 
 " Five," she answered. 
 
 " Then one has gone to Exeter ; it was all your fault " 
 
 " Gracious heavens, Frederick ! then you must go instantly 
 after it ! — How dare you be so careless and good-for-nothing ! " 
 continued she, turning to the vinfortunate maid. 
 
 " I will do nothing of the sort," answered Fred. ; " we will 
 telegraph, if you like ; but as it was all your own doing, I'll 
 thank you to scold no more." 
 
 Snubbed by Fred., what further indignity Avas she to suffer? 
 
 They had a very kind welcome from Mrs. Frank, and a truly 
 Beanvillian one from Mr. Frank, and in a genial glow of half- 
 bustle and half-happiness, they were hurried up stairs to dress 
 and prepare for an evening party. Mr. and Mrs. Frank were 
 " at home " that night to all the Beauvilliers. 
 
 If ever there Avas a fresh, clean, beautiful, Avell-ordered, well- 
 appointed house, it Avas Mr. and Mrs. Frank's. Bright, blazing 
 fires, neat-handed, SAvift-footed, smiling little handmaids, beauti- 
 ful toilette appointments, green-painted spacious baths, and a 
 general pervading scent of freshness and lavender, put every one 
 into a high state of comfort and delight. 
 
 Flo. had recovered her assurance, and being promised her 
 missing box by the next day, was in high good humor. 
 
 " Really," said she to ' dear Fred.,' " I must go and see what 
 Carry is about to Avear. I cannot haA'e her disgrace herself and 
 VIS, by anything doAvdy. Luckily I have brought more than I 
 shall Avant, and can lend her a headdress." 
 
 But the amount of finery spread out in all its glory on Carry's 
 bed, sent her back tamed and subdued for the evening. 
 
 " Think of Mr. Royston making her such magnificent presents, 
 and she knowing nothing about it, my dear Fred., until she opened 
 the box ; and I never gave the man credit for a morsel of taste. A 
 silk dress, Fred., couleur D'Ahricot, AA'ith siich black lace flounces, 
 and pomegranates for the hair, and a blue moire. O Fred., 
 Fred. ! just the dress I am dying for, and the most beautiful 
 brocade for the Avedding-day. Well, one comfort is, hoAvcA^er 
 handsome Carry's dress, she must look a doAvdy, she is such a 
 figure. Law ! before I'd be so fat — There ! I declare that 
 must be a carnage at the door — make haste ; of all things I 
 like to Avatch the company being ushered in ; it is such a good 
 time to look over their dresses."
 
 858 MARGARET 
 
 There was a goodly assemblage of the Beaxivillian family, and 
 a very tine set tliey were to look at, but out of compliment to 
 Lord Eriscourt, the whole of hit; family were asked to Beau 
 Court, and were now being ushered in, under the strict surveil- 
 lance of Mrs. Baukes. 
 
 ^ I suppose that is my lady," whispered she to Carry, who 
 looked veiy pretty and nice in her blue moire, rather to Flo.'s 
 astonishment, and highly to the 'squire's delight and admiration. 
 " Well, I don't think nuich of her. She may have been hand- 
 some, but is quite j^asse'e ; bless me! there's my Lord as defer- 
 ential to her as if she was his own mother." 
 
 '' Flo. ! what handsome girls those are ! I declare I think 
 they must be the Miss Erles, and so prettily dressed. Coral 
 looks so well Avith white nmslin." 
 
 " My dear, I supjiose they must be the Miss Erles, they look 
 just like g}-psies " ^. 
 
 " O ! Flo., that must be Margaret ; see the beautiful head, 
 half turned away. Now we shall see dear, dear Lotty." 
 
 " My heavens ! if there is not that old Scotchwoman, with a 
 gown and cap more staring than ever." 
 
 " Do you think, Flo., that nice-looking, ladylike person, talk- 
 ing so happily to the gentleman in black, is " 
 
 " "\Vhy, it is Miss Leigh that was. How matrimony has im- 
 proved her." 
 
 " ^Irs. Frank's sister : no Avonder she is nice then. I never 
 saw a person I liked so much, and Robert is in such admiration 
 of their house, and to-morrow I am to see the twins." Carry 
 paused and sighed. 
 
 Luckily the 'squire passed by, and took the opportunity of 
 whispering, "You look twenty per cent, prettier than she does." 
 The sin: was indicated by a look. 
 
 " Here are the Erie boys ; dear me ! what fine, handsome 
 young men they are grown. And see, there are dear Lotty and 
 Margaret, too ; they are coming towards us." 
 
 '* How lovely Margaret looks," exclaimed Carry. 
 
 " Black velvet is always becoming," responded Flo., " but I 
 declare Lotty looks like a little child, in that white muslin frock, 
 ami clinging so If) Margaret." 
 
 Their schoollcUows now greeted them, and ]\Ir. Royston 
 observed witli much pleasure, and no little pride, that both Lotty 
 and Margaret told Carry tliey thought it very kind of her to 
 come, as they knew slic must feel a great deal at leaving her 
 children. Also, in the course of the evening, he observed that
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 859 
 
 Lord Erlscourt asked her to dance, a favor he did not grant Flo. 
 And farther, he overheard Brian remarking to Hugh, — 
 
 " I did not know Mrs. Royston, did yon? " 
 
 " No, she looks as young again, without that horrid baby." 
 
 The next day they were all expected at Beau Court, and the 
 company mustered more than ever. Lotty's trousseau was to 
 be displayed, settlements to be signed, and various little matters 
 to be done, that are always requisite on the eve of a weddin"-. 
 The number of Mrs. Beauvilliers appeared to be continually on 
 the increase, until it became a hopeless matter to distinguish 
 which was which. 
 
 Lotty seemed to cling still closer to Margaret ; and though 
 again in her simple white frock, an expression, half-awe, half- 
 fear, wholly sweet and tender, took from her face the childish 
 look, and told but too truly that a woman's heart dwelt beneath. 
 In a few hours she would have to promise vows, a love to last 
 until death, a compact that only the grave would dissolve. To 
 that little, faithful, truthful, magnanimous heart, this Avas no 
 light task. Life or death could otfer no more solemn act. 
 
 Margaret had laid aside her usual black robes for this even- 
 ing and the morrow. A full, flowing robe of silver gray swept 
 its graceful folds around her ; a few delicate white roses clus- 
 tered in the dark hair, and falling in long wreaths upon her fair 
 neck, added such a queenly beauty to her appearance, that the 
 spectators gazed only to gaze again, for fear the lovely vision 
 might be seen no more. 
 
 Lady Katherine rustled about in a silk that would have stood 
 of itself, without her upright and stately old figure to support it. 
 
 Mrs. Laird's satin was certainly gorgeous, and if she had 
 procured another for the ceremony of the next day, green spec- 
 tacles would be required to endure the blaze. Mrs. Royston 
 looked even pi-ettier than the night befoi-e, in the couleur D'Ah- 
 ricot, and black lace flounces. It was Mrs. Bankes who looked 
 the dowdy, thought the 'Squire. The Miss Erles were hand- 
 somer than ever, in flowing wliite tarletan, looped up with moss 
 roses. 
 
 But as for describing all the company, and all their dresses, 
 and all they said and did, only the able pen of the chronicler of 
 the celebrated marriage of Sir Charles and Lady Grandison can 
 do that. A full and particular account of the trousseau might 
 be given ; but then so varied, so different, so wonderful are 
 people's tastes, such a description might incur a great deal of 
 censure.
 
 360 MARGARET 
 
 The sight of it was, however, properly appreciated by those 
 who did see it ; aud uonc showed their seuse of such a favor in 
 a more pointed and purticidiir manner than Mrs. Bankes. She 
 gazed at everything, touched all the silks, examined all the flow- 
 ers, inspected the laces, counted the gloves aud handkerchiefs, 
 passed her opinion upon the whole ; and, after a long and 
 eloquent dissertation upon trousscaax in general, and this one in 
 particular, and the shock she had endured when she had learned 
 that Lotty's first marriage had been concluded without this indis- 
 pensable and never-ought-to-be-omitted marriage article, and 
 liigldy necessary part of the ceremony ; she was now bound to 
 confess that the omission had been amply repaired — in fact, it 
 was a wonder how so small a thing could require so vast 
 a wardrobe. However, Lotty had nothing to do with that, aud 
 Lad only selected, out of all the things presented for her choice, a 
 habit : Mrs. Bankes, not knowing this, of course gave Lotty 
 credit for exquisite taste and judgment ; but, pi'operly speaking, 
 the praise all belonged to the Beauvillians. Tiie evening was 
 further remarkable for the presentation of innumerable quanti- 
 ties of presents, which it would be endless to mention here. 
 
 However, a glad smile was seen stealing over the little, pale, 
 somewhat anxious face of the bride as Bear appeared, and with 
 infinite delicacy both of touch and judgment, as befitted such a 
 gentleman, he laid on her lap a small parcel. Outside, it was 
 directed "for Lotty," aud a furtive glance at Brian, showed that 
 Lotty recognized his handwriting. Inside was written " Bear's 
 present," and the writing this time made Lotty glance at Hugh. 
 
 Certainly Bear had shown great taste in his present : they 
 were bracelets, consisting of two rows of single pearls, and on 
 the clasp of one was a tiny likeness of such a handsome face, 
 with fair eurls and sjicaking eyes, that seemed to say, whichever 
 way she turned them, " I love you, Lotty." 
 
 Brian and Hugh underwent a pantomimic act of self-congratu- 
 latif)n, as they saw Lotty's brilliant blush of pleasure, and the 
 quick, shy way in which she concealed her treasure ; on the 
 other was a most amiable, but canine visage, with deep, loving 
 eyes it is true, but they only said, " I am Bear, what do you 
 want with me?" Lotty kissed this portrait openly, and theu 
 kissed Bear, and said, " (io aud thank tliem for me, Bear." 
 AVhich Bear tried to do ; but Brian and Hugh would have no 
 thanks Ijy proxy. Said they U> Bear, ^ We will wait xnitil to- 
 morrow, then Basil has giveu us leave — ah! you know what, 
 dou't you, old fellow ! " Theu Queeu Margaret put her present
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 361 
 
 into Lotty's hand ; and it was a necklace to match the bracelets, 
 but the clasp was deep blue enamel, Avith five large pearls con- 
 fidingly resting on the bright surface, as if they were aware how 
 the royal color showed off their matchless form and hue ; but 
 Margaret touched a little spring — the blue sea, Avith its fair 
 freight, disappeared, and there was a fairer pearl within — the 
 lovely, loving face of Margaret. 
 
 Ah ! Lotty was pleased, and she almost rose from her seat, 
 and looked round for Basil, that he might join in her delight. 
 He was close by, and his fair curls mixed with her dark ones, 
 as she whispered her pleasure at that, and something else hidden 
 in her hand — the honest face of Bear was permitted to lie ex- 
 posed to every eye. 
 
 "Ask Margaret to show you a present she had to-day," said 
 Basil. 
 
 Margaret smilingly unclasped a brooch, something like the 
 clasp of Lotty's necklace, and, touching a spring as before, 
 a bewitching little well-known face, with the curls all rumpled, 
 as if the fingers had been running through them, with dazzling, 
 glorious eyes, looking as if they said, "My Queen Margaret." 
 Lotty beheld herself. 
 
 " How could you have it taken without my knowing?" she 
 said, blushing at its beauty, and laughing at Margaret's pleasure. 
 
 " It was copied from the picture your poor father had taken 
 of you, just before you went to school." 
 
 " Then that makes it so childish-looking," said Lotty. 
 
 " It is exactly like my Lotty at present, only her hair is per- 
 haps in better curl." 
 
 " Curl indeed ! " said Lotty, beginning to look saucy, and 
 then becoming more shy than ever. 
 
 " So Mrs. Bankes did get here, after all, Margaret," said 
 Basil, for he found it ineffectual to provoke Lotty any further. 
 
 " Yes, Pro. was so kind as to ask her, and really, Basil, upon 
 the whole, she has been very good this evening ; and as for Carry, 
 she is as nice as possible." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVII. 
 
 For twenty miles and more round Beau Court, no one sat 
 still on this eve of the twenty-third of April, and it was supposed 
 31
 
 362 MARGARET 
 
 that few went to bed that night, for fear they should be too late 
 in the morning. Everybo<ly was to be at church at eleven 
 o'clock ; but previous to that, Lord Erlscourt had sent up to 
 inquire of the numerous handmaidens, if he might be permitted 
 a few moments' conversation with his bride. If all the reports 
 of her appearance in her bridal dress Avere true, it was, indeed, 
 only judicious that he should see her, ere he met her at the 
 altar. Every fresh person who came flying down the stairs, 
 declared that never had such an exquisite little bride been seen 
 before. Basil eutered Lotty's presence fur the first time, on the 
 morning so eventful to them both, as a bridegroom should. 
 
 Serious and subdued in manner, as if he knew God was about 
 to bestow on him one of his best, fairest, noblest gifts, yet did a 
 serene joy beam from his eyes. He knew full well that no 
 liglit words were spoken between them; and while he could 
 hardly restrain his happiness, that at last he had not only gained 
 the little wild thing to be his own sweet wife forever, but that 
 her heart was wholly and entirely placed in his keeping, yet did 
 he know one little regi-et, one sad thought afflicted her — she was 
 DO longer to be all in all to her Margaret. It was true, that her 
 marriage gave Margaret the greatest happiness she could now 
 know ; but such was Lotty's love for her, one word of regret 
 spoken would have proved that their love passed all other ; and 
 this word even Basil would have forgiven, for Margaret's sake. 
 
 Certainly none of the partial judges of Lotty in her wedding- 
 dress had overrated her appearance. Basil could have knelt 
 down to admire the exquisite little figure, the lovely, blushing, 
 innocent child-face — 
 
 " A rosebud 
 
 Set with little wilful thorns, 
 
 And sweet as English uir could make her." 
 
 Her dress was of white lace, purest, finest, most valuable 
 Brussels. That, all the Beauvillians had taken care should be 
 the case. But, as she was not to be wliolly in white, beneath 
 she wore a silk slip of a pale pink, that shone through the folds 
 on the lace dress like a blush rose. Bound her slight throat 
 gleamed a diamond necklace, on her arms the two matchless 
 hraciJL-ts. Over those rich, luxuriant curls was a long, floating, 
 gossamer veil, of such beauty and fineness, that it was fortunate 
 for Lotty a curl or two slrayi'd out of its place, to assist the veil 
 in hiding her lace from Basil's delighted gaze. But the "little 
 •wilful thorns " showed themsclvca.
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 363 
 
 " Don't, Basil ; I will not have you stare so at me." And the 
 little, tiny, satined foot made a sort of faint attempt to stamp. 
 
 " You may let me look a little, my Lotty, on a sight I never 
 saw before, and may not see again ; but I am glad to perceive 
 you have your birthday presents on, because my wedding-gift is 
 to match them." And he showed some cases in his hand. 
 
 " This I shall keep a little while longer," he said, displaying 
 a diamond hoop ring ; "but this you can wear, my Lotty." And 
 he gave her a brooch of diamonds to match the others. " And 
 this, too," he continued, placing in her hands a circlet for the 
 hair, of diamonds, so large and beautiful that each seemed a 
 separate star. 
 
 " Thank you, Basil," said Lotty ; but letting them all fall to 
 the ground, she continued, in a low whisper, " but you ,are sure 
 you do not repent ; you love me ? " 
 
 " Love you ! my heart's treasure, my love, my wife-so-soon- 
 to-be ! — you do not doubt it ? " And he knelt down before her, 
 with his arms clasped round her, so that she might read his 
 truth in his eyes. 
 
 She was satisfied apparently, for she drew her veil round her ; 
 but he could see the flush of delight that crimsoned face, neck, 
 and arms, even down to the small fingers. 
 
 Luckily for the fate of Lotty's dress, Mrs. Beauvilliers and 
 Mrs. Laird came in, and shrieked at Lord Erlscourt's profane 
 touch, more full of love and delight than consideration for her 
 toilet. So he was turned out peremptorily ; and when he saw 
 his bride again, the veil was readjusted, the circlet of star-like 
 diamonds confined the rebellious curls, and, like all the rest of 
 the numerous loving eyes, he thought a little Peri had stepped 
 down from her airy home, " to love and be loved by him " for-, 
 ever. 
 
 So the ceremony began, and even John Grey was satisfied, 
 for the clear, flute-like notes, pronouncing the words, " love, 
 honor, and obey," were heard at the other end of the church. 
 
 After it was over, every Beauvillian would have deemed him- 
 self aggrieved and injured if they had not one salute from the 
 bride ; and as for Brian and Hugh, they, of course, being bride- 
 groomsmen, had the first chance, and were not disposed to give 
 up their claims to the stoutest BeauviUian there. 
 
 " Thank you, Lotty," said they, " that is much better than 
 kissing Milly's baby. Now you are our sister, and we are 
 entitled to a fair share of brotherly salutes." 
 
 " Come, boys," said Basil, " if you don't make way for us to
 
 364 MARGARET 
 
 get out of this crush, T shall stop all your privileges for a year 
 to c'ouie. I thiuk 1 had better take you up iu my arms, my wife, 
 my darling ! and carry you out." 
 
 " No, no, indeed, that you shall not," said Lotty, indignantly. 
 
 Brian and Hugh proved themselves good bridegroomsmeu, 
 and by dint of their exertions, the bride and bridegroom had 
 •way made for them to their carriage. Then Basil strewed hand- 
 fuls of silver, and, taking advantage of the rush, he placed Lotty 
 in the carriage, and sprang iu after her. 
 
 " Now," he said, clasping her close, " mine forever." 
 
 But the joy and hilarity of everybody rose to such a pitch, and 
 the little bride showed such fluctuating spirits, that Lord Erls- 
 court privately ordered his carriage round an hour before the 
 time appointed. 
 
 As Lotty appeared in her dark-green travelling dress, her 
 little straw bonnet, with white ribbons and violet flowers, the 
 handsome chariot, with its four gray steeds and smart post- 
 boys, who had all six been laying themselves up in lavender 
 for the last month, to come out prancing and gay on this par- 
 ticular occasion, drove up to the door — it certainly was 
 
 •' One touch to her hand, 
 One word in her ear ; " 
 
 for, without one word, without an adieu, Basil lifted his wife 
 into the carriage, jumped in after her, the steps were up, the 
 door shut, the magic words, " all right ! " said, and away 
 bounded the carriage, — with the servant clinging behind, and 
 Bear careering his best after it, a great favor hanging over one 
 ear — just as if they were all impelled out of sight by four 
 express engines. 
 
 The amiable Beauvillians were dumb-struck, and only Brian 
 and Hugh had wits remaining to throw an old shoe, for luck, 
 aft(.'r tlie fast receding carriage. But at least they had seen 
 Lord Erlscourt's liice as he sat down by his darling, his bride, 
 his wife. At all events, they had heard the tones of his voice, 
 as he turned to her, and said, — 
 
 " My wife, now my own Lotty ! " 
 
 And so, feeling that they had done a good deed that day ; that 
 they had seen, by their girl's face, that she was happy ; they re- 
 ported to the only thing left them, namely, to shake hands with 
 each otlicr, ami indulge in boundless self-congratulations. 
 
 This they continued to do without cessation and with renewed 
 vigor, commeucing again and again, when word was passed that
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 365 
 
 everybody must prepare for dancing. So rooms were cleared, 
 the baud — or bauds — sent for, gloves tried on, lamps lighted, 
 and everything in a high state of commencement by seven or 
 eight o'clock. 
 
 The gentle, stately Margaret was borne oiF in the powerful 
 grasp of a mighty Beauvillian, and found herself flying, with 
 resistless speed, down the long rows of a good, old-fashioned 
 country dance. 
 
 The dignified old Lady Katherine was in the strong hands of 
 another Beauvillian, and was seen bobbing up and down, out of 
 all tune and place, but intensely delighted and happy. 
 
 Mrs. Laird, spite of her strict Scotch notions, found herself 
 panting and breathless at the bottom of forty couples, without 
 ever having been able to bring in a word of remonstrance at the 
 extraordinary and Avonderful position in Avhich she was placed. 
 
 The pretty Miss Ei-les, one with a most devoted partner, and 
 the dark, but still handsome-looking mother, met at all corners, 
 all turning of hands, and setting of partners ; while, as for Brian 
 and Hugh, they only reached the bottom of the long country 
 dance, to bow to their late partner, and snatch a new one, and 
 rush up to the top to begin again. Mrs. Bankes and the 'Squire, 
 and Mr. Bankes and Mrs. Royston, were to be met everywhere ; 
 and Dr. Laird finding it impossible to keep his wig on in the 
 respectable state of rectitude that Mrs. Laird deemed proper, 
 had at last thrown it oflf altogether, and was to be seen with 
 rubicund face 'and shining bald head in every direction. Even 
 the little, fair, tiny twins, under the able superintendence of their 
 delighted father, were performing a sort of extemporaneous dance 
 of his and their concoction, in a remote corner. 
 
 After an alarming quantity of dancing, there was supper, and 
 after supper speeches, in which every Beauvillian assured every 
 other person this was the happiest day of their lives ; and every 
 other person cordially agreed. 
 
 Then ensued such mutual compliments, such reciprocity of 
 sentiments, such a chorus of praises and interchange of good 
 wishes, that every man supposed, and every lady, too, that they 
 were sitting next to the dearest friend they had in the world, 
 save and except the bride and bridegroom. 
 
 Then dancing commenced again, fast and furious. Margaret 
 and Lady Katherine were the first to retire ; but, lo ! it had 
 sounded five of the clock ere Mrs. Laird could tear herself 
 away — in fact, she Avould have deemed it rank heresy to the 
 honor of the day had she given in sooner than any of the others. 
 
 31*
 
 366 MARGARET 
 
 "Wearily slie crawled up stairs, shocked to see daylight beginning 
 to peep through the shutters ; and, as she tied on a nightcap of 
 vast frills and long winding strings, thus she discoursed to the 
 good doctor, who had discreetly gone to bed an hour ago ; but 
 Tvas possessed with a vague, uneasy notion that he had left hia 
 wig under the stairs. 
 
 " Ech, doctor ! but these are wonderful folk. They started 
 i' the morn afore the first meal a shaking hands, and wad 
 ye believe it, they are aye at it the noo, at this awfu' hour 
 of night, or if I spak God's truth, the morn o' anither day ; 
 what wi' dancing, jigging, and shaking hands, I am amaist 
 dune. I ne'er thought to gang on i' this fashion at ony time 
 of my life, least ways the noo, and me just o' the stroke o* 
 threescore. But they wadna be refused ; one was aye o' the 
 floor, jigging awa wi' ane of them stout fine auld gentlemen, 
 and no to hear a word of ' will ye, nill ye.' Aye me. The 
 doctor's no minding me, he's just fast like any baby, and 
 nae wonder. More betoken 1 kenned he was a bit unsteady, 
 and there's nae doubt but he has a hail bottle under his belt. 
 And hoo I am to ca' shame on him i' tlie morn is past ma 
 keuuing, tor deed it was nae mair nor respectful an proper 
 of him to glorify the day." 
 
 CHAPTER THE LAST. 
 
 Carry was sitting by her tire, also prepared for bed, about the 
 Bame hour that Mrs. Laird delivered the last sentiment ; she 
 was far from tired or sleepy — on the contrary, deeply buried in 
 thought, wlieu Flo. burst into the room. 
 
 " It is sliamerul the way in which Fred, behaves ! He will 
 not come to bed, though I am as tired as a dog ; and just as 
 I get into a nice sleep, he will be rattling up, nuiking such a 
 noise; — but what arc you sitting here for, instead of getting 
 into bed ? " 
 
 " I am waiting t(j rub Robert's shoulder. "We could not bring 
 his man, and ever since his accident, the doctor ordered it to be 
 rubbed with White's oils." 
 
 " Mighty conjugal, indeed! He might have let you off this 
 one night."
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 367 
 
 " Of course he would ; but he has been so kind to me, I wait 
 at my own wish." 
 
 " Well, I do hope. Carry, you will regard what I tell you, 
 and think less of your babies and more of him." 
 
 Carry smiled. 
 
 " A man that can go and give his wife, in one day, four or 
 five beautiful dresses, and scores of other things besides, is not 
 to be despised ; mark my words, Cai-ry." 
 
 "Flo., I smiled to think of your ever having given me such 
 advice — I don't remember it. But I wished to speak to you. 
 The last three days have made me think more than I ever did 
 before, Flo." 
 
 " It is high time you should begin to regard something be- 
 sides those brats." 
 
 " Do you notice Mrs. Frank, with those darling little twins, 
 Flo. ? " 
 
 " I must allow they are very pretty, nice, little, Avell-behaved 
 children." 
 
 " Do you see how she puts their papa forward in everything, 
 making them love and respect him as the first of human beings, 
 though he is so distractedly fond of them ? " 
 
 " He would spoil them past everything, but for her, Carry ; it 
 is lucky she has no more — I don't think he would have eyes for 
 any other child." 
 
 "• True, and that shows how judicious she is. Do yovi re- 
 member how we laughed at and despised the poor Misses Leigh, 
 for being odd old maids ? and now how different they are." 
 
 " Fred, said he never saw such a well-managed house as Mr. 
 Frank's ; and did you taste the curry ? — even Pierre could make 
 nothing like it." 
 
 "And to see Mr. Grey with h.'o wife ; no wonder, Flo., I sit 
 here and think." 
 
 " Well, live and learn. Carry. I am delighted to find that, at 
 last, you take counsel by me." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Flo.," answered Carry, with spirit ; " so 
 far from taking your counsel, I have been calling to mind 
 a conversation I once had with you. Do you remember the 
 avenue at Court Leigh? You and I were there, and poor Au- 
 gusta. Ah, Flo. ! whenever I think of that fine, handsome girl, 
 and her sade fate, I cannot but weep." 
 
 " Very ridiculous of you ! she fully deserved it." 
 
 " Wliy, Flo., I have been thinking you and I have not con- 
 ducted ourselves much better."
 
 368 MARGARET 
 
 " Speak for yourself, if you please," answered Flo., in high 
 indignation. 
 
 '■ Then 1 say this : on that day on which avc "walked up and 
 down the avenue, you compared Augusta, yourself, and me with 
 Millicent, Margaret, and Lotty. I agreed with you in thinking, 
 not only that they were sadly to be phied, but owed mucli of 
 their iate to their own folly. And -(I'e all three agreed, poor Au- 
 gusta, you, and 1, that we would not change places with them ; 
 and now, Flo., within these three days, Avitliin this hour, I have 
 been wishing 1 was even as good as JNIrs. Frank." 
 
 '' And a very proper thing, too," interrui)ted Flo. 
 
 " Augusta died a horrible death," continued Carry ; " and you, 
 Flo., can you still say you are better than the three schoolfellows 
 we despised? Do you think yovu- husband loves you as he 
 ought? or that he will continue to pay you even due respect — 
 (pray don't be impatient with me) — if you go on in your 
 present habits? All his family dislike you, and think you are 
 the real cause of the troubles he has fallen into ; and you know, 
 Flo., there is more truth in that " 
 
 " And, pray, what do you think of your own precious self?" 
 interru])ted Flo., in her hottest mood. 
 
 " I shall have nothing to say for myself, if I do not take 
 timely warning. Indeed, I shudder when 1 reflect that, but for 
 tills visit, but for Lotty's fortunate Avcdding, my eyes miglit never 
 have !)oen opened, I might have alienated dear Robert forever." 
 
 " Truly, a most wonderful loss " 
 
 " Do not be angry, Flo. ; I feel sure you must reflect, when 
 we compare our situations now. Millicent, as ever, retains a 
 place in the estimation of all who know her, that none can envy 
 her, she so truly deserves it. And Lotty, Flo. " 
 
 "Lotty was always unlike ; ny one else," allowed Flo., rather 
 pettishly. 
 
 " Wliat a vast amount of love have we seen poured out upon 
 our little child-schoolfi-llow I so spontaneously bestowed, does it 
 not speak and say, ' None more Avorthy ?' But, Margaret ! — 
 ah, Flo. ! who can look at her, and not wish to be better? 
 With a stricken look in her eyes, with her heart half in hcaviMi, 
 how she still treads the earth among us, our queen and head. 
 Her grief is not selfish, though so great, for how gently does she 
 interest herself in all our concerns. She said I was very good 
 fo conif. and leave my children ; and, smiling, added, th;it I 
 should be pleased to see the difference a few days made in them. 
 No advice, Flo., no hints, but this little remark, to remove (I
 
 AND HER BRIDESMAIDS. 869 
 
 know she thought) any pain I might have for doing so. And 
 you, Flo., when Mr. Bankes was complaining yesterday of the 
 long time you kept him waiting, she spoke for you as one sister 
 would speak of another, and your husband listened, and thought 
 kindly of you then, Flo., for none can gainsay the saintlike Mar- 
 garet. Though she has lost her Harold, and will carry to her 
 grave a riven heart, yet who would not wish to be her ? And as 
 that cannot be, Flo., it seems next best to me that we should 
 begin a good deed on Lotty's wedding day, with God's help — a 
 deed that Lotty will herself love and foster. It is, so to act 
 that we may prove worthy to have been 
 
 " Margaret's Bridesiviaids.'*
 
 FIQUE: 
 
 A Tale of the English Aristocracy. 
 
 1 vol. 12mo. Price $1.75. 
 
 Three thousand eight hundred and seventy-six new books were 
 published in England this last year, which is about the average 
 number of past years. 
 
 Thirteen years ago Pique was first published in London, and 
 up to the present time, notwithstanding the enormous number 
 of new books that have been issued, the effect of which is to 
 crowd the old ones out of sight, this remarkable novel has con- 
 tinued to have a large sale. 
 
 This is the strongest praise that can be bestowed on any book. 
 
 It is not in the least " sensational," but relies solely on its rare 
 beauty of style and truthfulness to nature for its popularity. 
 
 It has the merit of being amusing, pleasantly written, and 
 
 engrossing. 
 
 The characters being high-bred men and women, are charm- 
 ing companions for an hour's solitude, and one puts the book aside 
 regretfully, even as one closes the eyes on a delicious vision. 
 The Aiiierican edition has taken every one by surprise, that so 
 remarkably good a novel should have so long escaped attention. 
 
 Every body is charmed with it, and its sale is immense, and 
 wiU endure for years to come.
 
 FAITH mum GIRlHOflD. 
 
 By the Author of " Boys at Ohequasset." 
 1 vol., 12mo. Cloth. Price $1.50. 
 
 This charming story fills a void long felt for something for a 
 young girl, growing into womanhood, to read. 
 
 It depicts that bewitching period in life, lying between four- 
 teen and TWENTY, with its noble aspirations, and fresh enthusi- 
 asm. It is written by a very accomplished lady, whose previous 
 book was universally pronounced to be '•'■ the best Boys' book 
 written." 
 
 A lady of rare culture, and wide experience, says, — 
 
 " 'Faith Gartney's Girlhood,' is a noble, good work, that could only 
 have been accomplished by an elevated mind united to a chaste, tender 
 heart. From the first page to the last, the impression is received of a life 
 which has been lived; the characters are genuine, well drawn, skilfully 
 presented ; tliey are received at once with kind, friendly greeting, and 
 followed with interest, till the last page compels a reluctant farewell. 
 
 '"The book is written for girls, growing as they grow to womanhood.' 
 The story has an interest, far beyond that found in modern romances 
 of the day, conveyed in pure, refined language ; suggestive, pleasing 
 thoughts are unfolded on every page; the reflective and descriptive 
 passages are natural, simple, and exquisitely finished. 
 
 " In these days, when the tendency of society is to educate girls for 
 heartless, aimless, factitious life, a book like this is to be welcomed and 
 gratefully received. Wherever it is read, it will be retained as a thought- 
 ful, suggestive — if silent — friend." 
 
 J^:;^ Parents, give it a wide circulation.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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