CLARA FANE.
 
 CLARA FANE; 
 
 OB, 
 
 THE CONTRASTS OF A LIFE. 
 
 &tau. Sdjau. 
 
 BY LOUISA STUART COSTELLO, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE ROSE GARDEN OF PERSIA," " MEMOIRS OF JACQUES 
 CCEUR," "THE QUEEN MOTHER," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 1848.
 
 t 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 AT. OSTELL, PRINTEE, ITAHT STREET, I'.I.OfiMSBr HV SUUAEE 
 AND BURLINGTON MEWo, REGENT STREET.
 
 TO MY DEAR FRIEXD, 
 
 MISS JANET WILKINSON, 
 
 L\ MKMORY OF A VISIT TO 
 
 LLANGOLLEN, 
 
 HER AFFECTIONATE 
 
 L. S. C. 
 
 2208059
 
 
 , 
 
 

 
 
 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Oh ciel ! expliquez moi ce discours, je vous prie. 
 Ce sont des incidents grands et mysterieux. 
 
 Moliere. 
 
 IT was at a period between the two last revolutions 
 of Paris, for it now becomes necessary to measure 
 time by those very frequent events in France, that 
 on the occasion of a fete in the Champs Elysees, 
 two very pretty young ladies were walking arm- 
 in-arm down one of the avenues near Passy, con- 
 versing in a confidential manner and loitering as 
 if waiting to be joined by others of their party, in 
 order that they might proceed in a body to the 
 centre of the busy scene, which is always so 
 attractive to Parisians. 
 
 The friends, though both very attractive, were 
 extremely different in appearance. Eugenie Petit, 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the shortest and least slender of the two, for their 
 ages were about the same, was a perfect type of a 
 young French girl of the middle classes. She had 
 bright black eyes and finely marked eyebrows, 
 lustrous hair and a high colour, round rosy cheeks 
 dimpled with smiles, a light step and small feet, 
 was admirably chaussee and gantee, and faultless 
 in the smartness and neatness of her attire. 
 
 Clara Fane, her companion, less showily 
 dressed, was much taller and slighter, and walked 
 with an air of more timidity although with equal 
 grace, and her movements possessed a dignity so 
 superior that she could not for a moment be mis- 
 taken for a person belonging to the same class as 
 that which the charmante Eugenie illustrated. 
 
 They appeared, however, to be on a footing of 
 entire equality, and were talking with great fami- 
 liarity. 
 
 " My dear friend," said Eugenie, " I am 
 trying to forget that we are to lose you so soon 
 how triste and miserable I shall be when you are 
 gone, and how wretched for you to go back to 
 your own foggy country how you will regret 
 our sunshine and our charming Paris there can 
 be nothing like it in the world !" 
 
 " I shall, dearest Eugenie," replied Clara, 
 " indeed regret all I leave here, even though I 
 shall again be welcomed by that kind friend who
 
 CLARA FANE. 3 
 
 lias been a mother to me and whom I would even 
 quit you to see again." 
 
 " And you are, after all, then to be a gover- 
 ness!" said Eugenie; "you, who are fit to be a 
 duchess. Why did not some great, rich man fall 
 in love with you here and lay his fortune at your 
 feet ! but an English milor will do as well, and 
 you will yet have the rank you deserve." 
 
 " Ah ! Eugenie," returned Clara, smiling, 
 " you are for ever thinking of marrying ! I assure 
 you I do not, and mean henceforth to be even 
 more grave and steady than you have accused me 
 of being since I have been staying with you here. 
 As I have neither fortune nor connections I have 
 my own way to make in the world, but I feel 
 cheerful and confident, and am ready to enter on 
 my new career with plenty of hope and good 
 expectation." 
 
 " You are always content and always trustful, 
 dear Clara," said Eugenie ; " we are alike in that 
 particular, and it is the best way, for fearing the 
 worst cannot help to better at any rate. Here is 
 mamma and Gustave," she added, with a slight 
 blush which added to the beauty of her lively 
 good-humoured face, " and now we shall walk all 
 about the fair and see everything." 
 
 It was evident by the manner of the gay, 
 smart young man who now came smiling up with 
 
 B 2
 
 4 CLARA FANE. 
 
 an elderly lady on his arm, that he was a particu- 
 lar and very welcome friend of the pretty Eugenie, 
 who was immediately transferred to his care, while 
 Clara became the companion of her mother. 
 
 They soon met a variety of acquaintances, and, 
 with the usual gaiety of French people, gave 
 themselves up to the delights of a dusty, crowded, 
 noisy fete, at all times the elysium of the popula- 
 tion of Paris. The music and dancing, the swings 
 and roundabouts, the booths and theatres, were 
 all visited and enjoyed, and even a quadrille party 
 had been made amongst themselves beneath the 
 trees, where partners were in abundance, and the 
 utmost gaiety prevailed, after which the society, of 
 which Clara and Eugenie formed a part, agreed 
 to accompany them in a body to their domicile in 
 the Avenue Lord Byron by a fine moonlight, 
 before they separated for the night. 
 
 As they were emerging from the most crowded 
 part of the fair, beneath a shaded grove of trees 
 they observed a small temple illuminated, on 
 which, in transparent letters, an announcement 
 was placed, inviting the curious to learn their 
 future destiny from a celebrated German Wizard, 
 who professed, of course, to know all things, past, 
 present, and to come. It was impossible to pass 
 this spot without interest, and the tittering and 
 laughing of the young ladies, in spite of their
 
 CLARA FANE. 5 
 
 refusals, showed that they were not seriously 
 offended at the proposals of their partners to con- 
 sult the oracle. 
 
 Gustave Lecoq, in particular, was very persua- 
 sive that his friend Eugenie should enter the 
 charmed circle and learn the fate reserved for her, 
 and Eugenie at length agreed to do so on condition 
 that Clara dared the adventure of the Wizard's 
 den at the same time, and after several of her 
 other friends had reported their success. 
 
 One pretty, tripping, lively French girl after 
 another entered and returned from the illuminated 
 pavilion, each with a smile on her countenance, 
 for the sage appeared to predict in a happy hour, 
 when no evil influences were at work and the 
 destinies of the young world only exhibited the 
 bright side. 
 
 When a gentleman was admitted he was 
 received by the Wizard, who sat at a table dimly 
 lighted, in order the more to contrast with the 
 brilliant lamps without, he was commanded to 
 look in an enchanted mirror where the image of 
 the dame de ses pensees appeared to him, adorned 
 in the last Parisian mode and holding in her hand 
 a very large bouquet of flowers. The glance, 
 although momentary, was sufficient to show to 
 every one, like the shadow seen by Faust at the 
 Witches' Revel, the image of her he loved, and as
 
 6 CLARA FANE. 
 
 no second look was permitted, minute examination 
 was precluded. 
 
 The ladies were welcomed by the Wizard with 
 more ceremony their palms were first surveyed, 
 their countenances read, and they were then shown 
 in another mirror the image of the youth they 
 desired to see. 
 
 They then drew from a vase on the table 
 beside the Wizard a folded paper on which the 
 secrets of their fate were inscribed in mysterious 
 and ambiguous language, capable of much and 
 varied explanation. 
 
 Neither Clara nor Eugenie read the papers 
 they had chosen at the moment they drew them ; 
 the latter reserving that bonne bouche for the 
 privacy of her chamber, and the former having 
 forgotten it. Eugenie had, she asserted, seen in 
 the mirror the exact resemblance of Gustave 
 Lecoq, and he assured her, during all the rest of 
 their walk, that it was impossible any painting 
 could have exhibited so perfect a likeness as his 
 glance revealed to him of her laughing, rosy 
 cheeks, black, sparkling eyes, bright, braided, 
 dark hair, and charming, little, round figure. 
 
 Clara had been so much amused at the trembling 
 belief with which her friend approached the magic 
 mirror that she was very careless of the lineaments 
 which appeared to her gaze, and was obliged to
 
 CLARA FANE. 7 
 
 confess, afterwards, that she had actually omitted 
 to notice the colour of the gentleman's eyes and 
 hair, whose image for a brief instant had stood 
 before her. 
 
 One thing, however, she had remarked the 
 remarkably courteous manner of the Sage, the 
 length of time he was examining her hand, and 
 the long survey he took of her physiognomy, 
 without which, he said, it was impossible to decide 
 on her fortune. She had become, at last, ungrate- 
 fully impatient of his devoted wish to tell her 
 true, and, while he was importuned by several 
 young girls, whom he had kept writing, had con- 
 trived to slip away, leaving Eugenie to be re-con- 
 ducted by Gustave, and had rejoined her party 
 outside, rather ashamed of the foolish proceeding 
 altogether. 
 
 When they were alone in their room, Eugenie 
 with a very grave countenance, directly she had 
 thrown aside her bonnet and shawl, began to 
 unfold the scroll of fate which chance had awarded 
 to her, and her blushes and exclamations told that 
 marvels were contained in the little bit of crumpled 
 paper. She read an exact description of her 
 lover ; his disposition, his intentions, and his 
 prosperous future. She read of a speedy wedding, 
 a humble but happy establishment, and a variety 
 of the most agreeable combinations.
 
 8 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " Don't think me silly, Clara/' said she; "but 
 even a trifle like this seems to confirm my good 
 opinion of Gustave, and I feel convinced we are 
 destined for each other." 
 
 " I see no reason why not/' replied Clara; "you 
 are both young, both in love, no one opposes your 
 union, and though you are neither of you rich 
 you have plenty of industry, hope and cheerful- 
 ness. I have no doubt you will be married before 
 the end of the year." 
 
 " How very singular," said Eugenie, " that 
 is exactly what the old Wizard's paper tells. 
 But where is yours ? how indifferent you are ! I 
 was dying to read mine all the way home." 
 
 There was much search on the part of Eugenie 
 for Clara's paper which at length was found in 
 one of her gloves and carried to the light to be 
 read. 
 
 " Oh ! I am not in love," said Clara ; " there 
 is sure to be nothing interesting in my fortune." 
 
 "We shall see/' exclaimed her friend with 
 animation ; " the Wizard said your destiny was 
 an uncommon one," and she read with great 
 gravity, exclaiming, " you have a German motto 
 mine was in French you see he suits all com- 
 ers Gustave's was in English and I was obliged 
 to translate it for him but I would not show 
 him my paper. Hear what is in store for you."
 
 CLARA FANE. 9 
 
 The oracle she read was headed with these 
 
 words : 
 
 "Trail, Schau, Wem." 
 
 " Aquarius governs your destiny. You are lost 
 and found. You will have more friends than 
 enemies. The world is better than it is reputed. 
 Be not too confident. The danger escaped in 
 infancy threatens later in life. Total wreck, but if 
 surmounted, success and happiness. The Hea- 
 vens invite or dispose to good or evil, but do not 
 compel to either." 
 
 " Nothing in this strikes me as worth notice," 
 said Clara, " except an odd coincidence. Gustave 
 Lecoq's father you know, made me this bracelet, 
 .which Mrs. Fowler desired me to buy as a souve- 
 nir before I left Paris, and that very motto I 
 chose to be engraved on it for a particular reason 
 a recollection of infancy." 
 
 " And what," inquired Eugenie, " does TRAU, 
 SCHAU, WEM, mean? you know I always had so 
 much trouble in learning German, it is so ugly. If 
 it had not been for you I am sure I should have 
 been disgusted with English which is not half as 
 bad. After all French is the only language in the 
 world worth knowing but explain to me these 
 strange words for they excite my curiosity." 
 
 " Like many words in that most remarkable 
 and interesting language which is not so happy 
 
 B 3
 
 10 CLARA FANE. 
 
 as to please your Parisian ear, dear Eugenie/' 
 replied Clara ; " these three contain much mean- 
 ing they express the necessity of exercising the 
 , faculty of observation in order that you may be 
 enabled to bestow your trust judiciously." 
 
 " Eh, mon Dieu ! my dear friend/' said 
 Eugenie, laughing ; " gu'est ce que tu me chanies ? 
 why the words are only 'trust, show, who/ }: 
 
 "Nevertheless, petite incredule" said Clara, 
 " what I tell you is fact they will however bear 
 the translation ' Examine those you trust/ ' 
 
 " That will do/' said Eugenie ; " I am satis- 
 fied now. But is it not a most amazing proof of 
 the conjuror's power that he should hit on your 
 very motto ? " 
 
 Eugenie was so much amazed at this accident 
 that it the more convinced her of the skill of the 
 Wizard, and the certainty of her own fate being 
 accomplished in the manner she wished, she 
 therefore slept happily that night, although she 
 was to part from her friend Clara the next day, 
 who was returning to England, after having lived 
 domesticated in her family for several years, pur- 
 suing the studies which had rendered her as 
 accomplished as she was interesting and beautiful. 
 
 This arose from no want of feeling or sensi- 
 bility on the part of Eugenie Petit, but she was 
 only eighteen, and had just acknowledged to her
 
 CLARA FANE. 11 
 
 own heart that Gustave Lecoq, the son of a pros- 
 perous jeweller in the Rue de la Paix, was exactly 
 the person she had been dreaming of for some time 
 and whom the stars might, she hoped, destine for 
 her husband.
 
 12 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Simple. " "Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand. 
 Mrs. Quickly. You shall find it a great charge ; and to be up 
 early, and down late !" 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 PERHAPS one of the least attractive streets to be 
 found in that part of London where Oxford Street 
 extends its long line of shops from Hyde Park to 
 St. Giles' s, is one, the name of which nevertheless 
 suggests ideas of struggling patriotism, pictures- 
 que costumes, fancy charity balls and large sub- 
 scriptions, noble enthusiasm, devotion to a fallen 
 race and Utopian theories to overthrow tyrannical 
 oppression. 
 
 Yet, in Poland Street, for that is the locality 
 alluded to, the most imaginative of travellers, who 
 can find in the Judenstrasse of Frankfort, or the 
 Fuggerei of Augsburg, or in numerous streets of 
 Rouen or old Pans, food for romance, might look 
 in vain for a building, dirty and grim though 
 they all be as any to be paralleled in Germany
 
 CLARA FANE. 13 
 
 or France, capable of furnishing him with a sub- 
 ject for his journal or his sketch book. 
 
 To be sure, there is the passport office, if 
 not romantic or picturesque in itself, yet the cause 
 of both in others, opening a wide field of adven- 
 ture to the adventurous, and as full of visions of 
 enjoyment as any fairy palace of Arabian story. 
 
 There is the parish workhouse too, able proba- 
 bly to furnish a thousand romances, if properly 
 studied, and the same might no doubt be said of 
 many of the "little brown cages" so disliked by 
 our neighbours over the water, from whence the 
 prisoners at large of London hop about the 
 muddy streets like sparrows in the fogs, of which 
 no chemical discovery has yet cleared the densest 
 of all possible atmospheres. 
 
 It was in Poland Street, that, in one of these 
 identical brown cages, so opposite in appearance 
 to the many-windowed, balconied, towering domi- 
 ciles in Paris, there dwelt a widow, short, fat, and 
 inquisitive, whose occupation, carried on for many 
 .years, was letting out in parcels different stages 
 of her abode, and making the most of the dingy 
 tenement that called her mistress. 
 
 The Widow Spicer and her pretty daughter 
 Maria were, at past eleven o'clock one night late 
 in autumn, sitting up waiting the arrival of some 
 new lodgers who were to occupy the second floor
 
 14 CLARA FANE. . 
 
 and who had been expected for some hours. Mrs. 
 Spicer had looked many times impatiently at a 
 large watch which hung above the chimney piece, 
 and Maria had yawned unceasingly for some 
 minutes ; it was advancing close upon midnight 
 yet the strangers did not arrive ; at length the 
 widow's patience was exhausted. 
 
 *' They're only second floor lodgers after all," 
 said she, " and I dare say they won't come to- 
 night." 
 
 "Perhaps something has happened to the 
 Southampton train," suggested Maria ; " I hope 
 not." 
 
 " "Whenever I expect anyone something always 
 does happen," said Mrs. Spicer. " Dr. Cowley said 
 they would be sure to be here by nine and I don't 
 see why they shouldn't. I've let the lodgings too 
 cheap as it is, to please him because he recommends 
 us so much, but I won't be made a slave of and 
 be kept up all night. Perhaps there's been some 
 revolution in France and the young lady's killed, 
 they generally kick up a breeze there once or twice 
 a year. I can't think what people go flourishing 
 abroad for, for my part, when they can be so com- 
 fortable at home. They don't find such nice 
 houses as this I warrant in their dirty towns." 
 
 " Dear me," said Maria, looking alarmed, " I 
 should be sorry if those two ladies had met
 
 CLARA FANE. 15 
 
 with an accident ; it gives me quite a turn to 
 think of it. Dr. Cowley says that the young one 
 is so clever, and has learnt everything in France : 
 I do so want to see her." 
 
 " I should be glad to see them both," returned 
 her mother ; " I hope they're not going to disap- 
 point me. That floor's been unlucky all the year; 
 and how I get on at all is a wonder to me in these 
 times. I'm sure it's a hard life for a poor widow 
 to slave as I do, when my mind is so above it 
 too. Now you, Maria, have no literary turn, 
 and, I do believe, couldn't make a verse to save 
 your life." 
 
 " La, ma ! " exclaimed Maria, laughing, " that 
 I couldn't ! I can only sing them." 
 
 " Well, that's something, too," said Mrs. 
 Spicer ; " everyone hasn't a genius. I'm certain, 
 if it wasn't for" this house, I could make a fortune 
 by writing books, and I needn't turn my back on 
 any for poems ; it's as easy to me, pretty near, as 
 speaking. I might have been quite a lady by 
 this time if your poor, dear father hadn't always 
 laughed me out of it, and then he goes and dies 
 in a decline and leaves me without a penny and 
 two children to support; to be sure your poor, 
 dear brother was taken off young, and now I've 
 only you." 
 
 Mrs. Spicer's reminiscences in this vein were
 
 16 CLARA FANE. 
 
 suddenly checked by another recollection, and 
 she exclaimed 
 
 " Has Mr. Frewen's milk been paid this 
 week ?" 
 
 Maria did not know. Mrs. Spicer therefore 
 had to search in a certain table-drawer, where she 
 kept her accounts, for the bill, and this occupa- 
 tion prevented her from noticing that another 
 half-hour had elapsed. Having found the receipt 
 she was anxious for, Mrs. Spicer took up several 
 other scraps of paper, on many of which unequal 
 lines were scribbled. 
 
 "Ah!" sighed she, "here's my last; I've 
 never had time to finish it. Young Simpson said 
 he was sure, if it was set, it would be the fashion- 
 able song of the season ; it begins well 
 
 I rebuffed his carresses 
 
 Maria," she whispered, " shut Grimford's door 
 I declare it's ajar he'll be fine and crusty 
 if he hears us talking and he sleeping so close. 
 Cross as he is we mustn't offend him, for he's 
 your godpapa and may remember us in his will. 
 I'm sure I've plenty to do with tempers in this 
 house; what with him, and Frewen in the first 
 floor, I've a nice time of it. I've a good mind to 
 raise Frewen's rent, for he gives such a deal of 
 trouble and is never satisfied."
 
 CLARA FANE. 17 
 
 " But then he wouldn't stay/' said Maria ; 
 " he's such a tyrant he won't be contradicted ; I 
 hate to go near him for my part." 
 
 " All those India folks are the same/' replied 
 her mother, " they're used to such slave-driving ; 
 but he's rich, I have no doubt, or else he wouldn't 
 be so mean. I wish he'd fall in love with you, 
 Maria, and marry you out of hand ; I could then 
 look out for myself." . 
 
 "La, ma!" cried Maria, "I wouldn't have 
 such a man for all the world ! " 
 
 " Oh, you'll never get married, it's my Belief/' 
 said Mrs. Spicer; "you like nobody!" 
 
 Maria, on this, turned away and blushed very 
 deeply. 
 
 " Now," continued her mother, " there's young 
 Simpson, quite a gentleman, you never encourage 
 him, and that wouldn't be a bad match with his 
 expectations from the Pennymans. He's so 
 droll ! he vows I'm the height of the Medecy 
 Venus, and he says she's about my size. I wish 
 he wouldn't say so, though, before Grimford he 
 knows nothing about literary things, and he only 
 sneers." 
 
 " So does Simpson, ma/' said Maria, with a 
 slight frown, " he doesn't mean it." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said the matron, " but he 
 isn't the first that has told me the same thing."
 
 18 CLARA FANE. 
 
 | 
 
 It will be naturally supposed that Mrs. Spicer, 
 who thus revived classical associations in the mind 
 of an admirer of the statue that enchants the 
 world, was a model of female beauty ; but the 
 fact was, that when her upstairs attic lodger 
 first made the comparison, which so much flat- 
 tered her, he thought, in the gaiety of his heart, 
 that she would receive the compliment, as he in- 
 tended it, as a joke; but, finding that she con- 
 sidered him serious, he was so much tickled that 
 he, from that period, made it a standing jest, and 
 was never weary of repeating the terms "little 
 Venus," "pocket Medici," and other diminutive 
 expressions, which Mrs. Spicer was content to 
 believe characterised her short, dumpy, Welch 
 figure, where anything like grace or beauty had 
 never dwelt, even in youth, before she exchanged 
 her state of attendant on a Welch lady of fashion, 
 at Cardigan, for that of partner for life to the re- 
 spectable Mr. Spicer, whose calling she described 
 to her lodgers, who had not known him, as having 
 been " under government," a mystery sometimes 
 too rudely explained, by Mr. Grimford, the old 
 friend of the family and Maria's godfather, as a 
 general postman. 
 
 Mr. Spicer was, in truth, a man of letters, 
 and it was in carrying on his high calling for the 
 benefit of others that he had caught those repeated
 
 CLARA FAXE. 19 
 
 colds which ended in a decline, and caused him 
 to leave his wife and two infant children unpro- 
 vided for, some years previous to the time when 
 she stood in her house in Poland Street, waiting 
 for two ladies who ought to arrive from France. 
 No sooner was Mrs. Spicer a widow than she 
 began to speculate upon the possibility of her 
 husband's friend, Grimford, being an eligible per- 
 son to supply his place, and assist her by his 
 supposed means in the arduous duties of bringing 
 up her family and carrying on the establishment, 
 which, already begun in her husband's life-time, 
 she desired to continue. She was accustomed to 
 let all her house but two rooms, which she re- 
 served for herself arid her daughter Maria, now 
 about eighteen, a pretty, fair girl, whose frequent 
 attacks of cold threatened that her life would not 
 be long, in spite of the bloom on her cheek and 
 the robust appearance of her short figure, but 
 little slighter than that of her mother. 
 
 Mr. Grimford, the object of fifteen years' un- 
 wearied attack on the part of the Widow Spicer, 
 was a Northumbrian, of tall stature, heavy limbs, 
 large bone, and a sullen aspect, about as much 
 like the Apollo, as Mrs. Spicer was like the 
 Venus of beautiful celebrity. It was not often 
 that Mr. Grimford was seen to smile, and when 
 he did it was generally in contempt at the
 
 20 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Widow's unblushing hints, which revealed her 
 purpose too well ; he was a bachelor of the most 
 resolute description; he had never intended to 
 marry ; he had, besides, resolved that he never 
 would marry, but he was content to leave Mrs. 
 Spicer in happy uncertainty as to his ultimate in- 
 tentions, as by so doing he secured to himself a 
 more carefully-tended home and more attention 
 than the small sum he paid for occupying her 
 back-parlour and a closet beyond might have war- 
 ranted. If he was not so rich as the Widow 
 imagined, he had wherewithal to afford himself 
 occasional indulgences, and sometimes to give her 
 the means of appearing in the eyes of certain 
 honoured guests as the mistress of a hospitable 
 establishment. Oysters in barrels, unexpected 
 lobsters, Yorkshire pie, a smoked goose, a few 
 bottles of Scotch ale, at periods enlivened the 
 board in the front parlour, particularly when Dr. 
 Cowley, who gave his professional services for 
 nothing to the Widow, her friend, and family, was 
 a rare but welcome visitor. 
 
 Mr. Grimford was an artist ; that is he used 
 the pencil to delineate certain singularly-shaped 
 buildings, with towers, belfries, or spires, as the 
 case might be, intended to be erected in some 
 favoured part of London or its neighbourhood, 
 and for this he, from time to time, was known to
 
 CLARA FANE. 21 
 
 obtain prizes at some institution, so frequent in 
 the metropolis, for the encouragement of merit, 
 where the committee possessed judgment capable 
 of appreciating excellence of the order in which 
 he was pre-eminent. 
 
 His own room was covered from floor to ceil- 
 ing with specimens of his art, framed and glazed, 
 and, as he had room for no more, he had per- 
 mitted Mrs. Spicer to adorn her front parlour 
 with the rest of his treasures, and marvellously 
 grand were the elevations of churches, arches, 
 bridges, and hospitals, which invited inspection on 
 the walls of this crowded chamber, where, of 
 an evenicg, several lodgers who inhabited the 
 highest stories of the house as dormitories, were 
 accustomed to congregate for an hour before 
 betaking themselves to repose for the night. 
 
 Maria was the sole object of her mother's 
 aspirations, yielding in interest only to the Grim- 
 ford scheme, of which, however, she formed a part, 
 inasmuch as she would inevitably benefit by its 
 success ; but Mrs. Spicer was an essentially selfish 
 and worldly-minded woman, intent on gain and 
 alive to all means of securing it, both in trifles 
 and in great matters, and she did not see so clearly 
 as some standers-by that the health of her daugh- 
 ter was so uncertain that a sudden blow might at 
 once put an end to all the schemes which she was
 
 22 CLARA FANE. 
 
 continually forming for the advantage of the most 
 single- minded, simple-hearted creature in the 
 world, who never looked beyond the present mo- 
 ment of enjoyment, and never imagined anything 
 beyond the happy state of content in which she 
 lived. 
 
 Maria Spicer was, by some of the young men 
 who were in the habit of " dropping in " at her 
 mother's, looked upon as the prettiest girl in 
 Poland Street ; but others declared in favour of 
 the beauty of a neighbour, whose pretensions were 
 much higher, both on the score of dignity and 
 fashion, for Miss Celia Sawyer had been educated 
 at a first-rate boarding-school, went to Willis's 
 Rooms, and dejeunes at Norwood, and was alto- 
 gether in very high society. 
 
 She had been so well instructed that she could 
 not but hold in just contempt the very small 
 talents of Maria, whom, having been her neigh- 
 bour from infancy, she could not do otherwise 
 than patronise, in spite of her inferiority. She 
 was well aware that Maria knew nothing whatever 
 of the science of music, and was extremely sur- 
 prised, as well as annoyed, to find that her clear, 
 imperfect voice attracted more admiration than 
 her own husky, though correct, one, and her mor- 
 tification was at times extreme, to find that the 
 young men in Mrs. Spicer's parlour, which she
 
 CLARA FANE. 23 
 
 sometimes condescended to enlighten with her 
 presence, seemed more ready to admire her good- 
 natured, laughing little neighbour, than to flirt 
 with her whose accomplishments and person were 
 of a superior order. 
 
 Celia was tall and slight, a little bony perhaps, 
 but still handsome : her skin was somewhat dingy 
 when compared to the lilies and roses of Maria, 
 but she had fine black eyes and hair, and good 
 teeth, and a certain air of London fashion or as- 
 surance that imposed. She was a consummate 
 flirt, and her attention to her dress and appear- 
 ance gave her great advantages over Maria, whose 
 simplicity of character was as evident in her cos- 
 tume as her demeanour. 
 
 However, with all these differences, Maria and 
 Celia were the dearest of all possible friends, and 
 had numerous secrets between them, and were 
 never weary of meeting. Maria, from really liking 
 and being proud of her friend, whose great supe- 
 riority she cheerfully acknowledged, and Celia, in 
 the latent hope of meeting at Mrs. Spicer's some 
 eligible match which should raise her above the 
 sordid position in which her father, whose calling 
 was that of a tailor, confined and cabined her 
 mind and body. 
 
 The tailor, however, was not supposed to be 
 making money, though Celia, who was an only
 
 24 CLARA FANE. 
 
 child, professed to have a right to look forward to 
 becoming one day, as she said, "the heiress of 
 Poland Street." She was, nevertheless, aware that 
 her papa had been more than once a bankrupt, 
 and that his credit did not stand very high, any 
 more than his reputation, for morality. He in- 
 dulged his daughter, however, in all her whims, 
 and, it was suspected, was not very scrupulous as 
 to her conduct, never checking her in any of her 
 .sallies or withholding from her the means of 
 expense. 
 
 Mrs. Spicer might have had time to relate all 
 these particulars of her neighbours herself, while 
 she waited for her new lodgers, whom, as the 
 clock struck twelve, she gave up, and shutting her 
 drawer, without finishing her song, and giving 
 Maria the brass candlestick which supported the 
 now " brief candle " which should light them to 
 bed, the pair prepared to abandon their watch. 
 
 They had just shut the door behind them, and 
 were proceeding along the passage when the sud- 
 den sound of wheels along the stony street caused 
 them to pause, and in another minute the stoppage 
 of a vehicle announced that an interruption to her 
 proposed retirement for the night was about to 
 take place. 
 
 " Drat it !" exclaimed Mrs. Spicer, impatiently 
 and most unpoetically, as a loud knock made her
 
 CLARA FANE. 25 
 
 start and almost drop the large watcli she held in 
 her hand ; " here they are then and the gal gone 
 to bed, and Mr. Grimford asleep, and Frewen too, 
 who'll be as cross as two sticks in the morning, 
 and perhaps go away in a huff and all for only 
 second floor people either ! Well, we must let 
 'em in. Maria, run, can't you, you're so slow 
 don't take down the chain it may be thieves 
 ask who it is." 
 
 Maria, meantime, whose movements were quick- 
 ened by curiosity, had unlocked the street-door, 
 and was peeping through the opening left by the 
 intervening chain; to her question of who was 
 there, a rather sharp voice answered : 
 
 " The ladies who are expected, to be sure : 
 open the door, my good woman, to Miss Fane and 
 Mrs. Fowler, recommended to this respectable 
 establishment by Dr. Cowley." 
 
 The reverend mantion of her domicile at the 
 close of this speech, softened the ire that was ris- 
 ing in the breast of the Medicean Venus at hearing 
 the word " good woman," an epithet seldom favour- 
 ably received by any one to whom it is applied, 
 although it is difficult to assign a reason for the 
 offence it gives. Mrs. Spiccr reflected also, as she 
 stood in the passage hesitating, only for an in- 
 stant, whether she would have the door opened or 
 not, that she must not offend Dr. Cowley, and 
 VOL. i. c
 
 26 CLARA FANE. 
 
 had set the candle down on the stairs, and re- 
 turned to the front parlour, which she unlocked, 
 when a gruff voice was heard from the back par- 
 lour, as a head, covered with a red nightcap, thrust 
 itself from a half-opened door at the foot of the 
 staircase which led to the kitchen flight. 
 
 "Don't you hear the knocks? What d'ye 
 mean by letting people stand knocking and ring- 
 ing like that, and disturbing the neighb'hood? 
 I've heard the door go this half-hour." 
 
 "That's not true, Mr. Grimford," retorted 
 Mrs. Spicer ; " Maria and me was only on the 
 point of going up when they knocked. You'd 
 better go to bed and not catch the influenza. I 
 shall have to nurse you, you know very well, for 
 who have you to take care of you but me ?" 
 
 "Hold y're nonsence, and open the door," 
 growled her tender friend; "I want nobody to 
 nurse me ; I only want to sleep, and if you keep 
 such hours how am I to do it ?" 
 
 So saying, Grimford, whose curiosity had evi- 
 dently kept him waking, though he had not ap- 
 peared to be cognisant of the probable arrival of 
 Dr. Cowley's recommended friends, shut his door 
 with a bang, and Avas seen no more. 
 
 Some altercation with the cabman, who asked 
 double his fare, which Mrs. Spicer, when appealed 
 to, pretended not to know, occupied a few minutes,
 
 CLARA FANE. 27 
 
 after which the two ladies got out, and their bag- 
 gage was carried into the passage, to remain till 
 " the gal " could take it up to their rooms in the 
 morning. 
 
 They seemed fatigued, and the younger lady 
 in a gentle voice, having addressed herself to 
 Maria and apologised for their late arrival, Mrs. 
 Spicer, softened by the humility of her manner, 
 and somewhat influenced by her interesting ap- 
 pearance, abandoned the air of dignity she had 
 assumed, and fairly welcomed both strangers to 
 her house. 
 
 " I'm very glad, I'm sure," said she, looking 
 inquisitively at Mrs. Fowler, and glancing benignly 
 at Miss Fane, "to see any particular friends of 
 Dr. Cowley's here. I am but a poor \vidow and 
 can't aiford much, but Welch hospitality and a 
 hearty welcome I'm always ready to give. You'll 
 take cream or milk in the morning, mum ? And 
 shall I tell the baker to bring rolls or half-quartem 
 bread's very dear now, and a poor widow like 
 me feels it hard enough. 1 hope you're not cold 
 the rooms is well aired, and the gal slept in the 
 bed last night. Will you like a night-light ? Its 
 too late for hot water now, for I thought to have 
 seen you at eight. Dr. Cowley said you would be 
 sure to come. I might have let over and over, 
 but I said, says I, the Doctor has always been a 
 
 c 2
 
 28 CLARA FANE. 
 
 friend to me and mine, and his friends shall have 
 the preference, though the apartment is cheaper 
 than any in the street, and, though I say it, as 
 good as any in it ; and so convenient close to 
 the passport office and the workhouse."
 
 CLARA FANE. 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 This is a gift that I have, simple, simple 
 The gift is good in. those in whom it is acute, and I am 
 thankful for it. 
 
 Love's Labour Lost. 
 
 THE next day was not far advanced when the well- 
 known knock of the Doctor was attended to by 
 Mrs. Spicer in person, who hastened to let in her 
 patron, and to inform him of the arrival of his 
 friends. 
 
 "They have had their breakfast/' said she, 
 " and look quite comfortable and at home up 
 stairs ; to be sure my second is quite as good as 
 any other first, and I fancy beds like mine are not 
 so easy to be found in France, where they are so 
 dirty and delapidated that I wonder English people 
 can stand it ; but it depends a good deal on what 
 folks are used to and perhaps Mrs. Fowler isn't 
 particular. She's a widow I suppose, Doctor, and
 
 30 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Miss Fane's her niece ?" added Mrs. Spicer, in an 
 insinuating tone. 
 
 " I don't know whether she's a widow or has 
 only brevet rank, dame/' replied Dr. Cowley, 
 laughing, as he observed the curiosity he was 
 accustomed to peeping out in the inquiries 
 addressed to him : " and I have no idea whether 
 or not she is any relation to Miss Fane, whom I 
 have never seen." 
 
 " Never seen !" exclaimed the hostess; "why 
 Maria says you raved about her beauty." 
 
 "Yes; but it is only by hearsay that I know 
 she is very pretty/' replied Dr. Cowley ; "Mrs. 
 Fowler tells me so. But can I pay my respects to 
 the ladies ? Let Maria run up and see if they can 
 receive me yet." 
 
 While Maria was sent on this errand, the 
 Widow occupied herself in endeavouring to find 
 out from the Doctor some satisfactory particulars 
 respecting her lodgers; but he was, apparently, 
 either ignorant or indifferent about them, and 
 turned off her questions with a careless air. 
 
 "Come, dame/' said he, "don't trouble your 
 head about who or what these ladies are one of 
 them is an old patient of mine ; if I sought out 
 the histories of all the people I attend, I should 
 never have done. How's Grimford ? and the cross 
 old Indian ? when am I to congratulate you ?
 
 CLARA FANE. 31 
 
 have you written any more verses lately ? answer 
 all my questions at once, for I've not much 
 time to spare. That last poem of your's has had 
 great success at the club Byron was nothing 
 to it." 
 
 " Oh ! you mean," said Mrs. Spicer, simper- 
 ing and putting one of her brown hands in the 
 table drawer, where she usually deposited the ef- 
 fusions which were the delight of her circle, " you 
 mean my poem on Spring : 
 
 ' The Muses stares me in the face, 
 
 I can't resist their smiles ' " 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the Doctor; "that's 
 the one ! capital ! never was a better poem writ- 
 ten ! why don't you print ? By heavens ! you'd 
 make your fortune, and get a pension from govern- 
 ment, to a dead certainty." 
 
 " I begun another, better than that/' returned 
 Mrs. Spicer, with sparkling eyes ; " but I must 
 read it low, for Grimford's such a brute about 
 poetry he's no soul for the Muses. It's on a 
 thrush." 
 
 " A thrush !" cried the Doctor, rising from his 
 seat, and looking towards the door in the hope of 
 Maria's summons. 
 
 " Yes," replied the hostess, " I heard one on a 
 bush the other day, when we went to Hornsey, to
 
 32 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Mrs. Pennyman's country-house, and I felt directly 
 that Apollo inspired me. 
 
 " ' The balmy, gay notes of the sweet little thrush, 
 
 Invites me awhile to be gay, 
 So sweetly he pipes upon yon hawthorn bush ' " 
 
 " The ladies are quite ready to receive you/' 
 exclaimed Maria, at this juncture, opening the 
 door, through which, without ceremony, the Doc- 
 tor bolted, and thus lost the concluding line of 
 the poem Mrs. Spicer was fain to shut up again in 
 her table drawer for future use. 
 
 " I wonder what keeps Grimford at home all 
 the morning?" said she to her daughter; "he's 
 as cross-grained as ever he can be, and does no- 
 thing but pish and snap at my taking in people 
 at twelve o'clock at night. It's no business of 
 his, as I tell him but he's such a bear that he 
 will be growling ! I wish you'd take up these 
 bills to Frewen, perhaps he'll pay to-day I want 
 money bad enough." 
 
 "Don't send me, ma," said Maria, setting 
 down to her brown, dusty piano, off the top of 
 which she had previously lifted some plates and a 
 waiter; "you know I never like to go." 
 
 " I'll see about it," mused her mother ; 
 " men are such tyrants ! but he's rich enough to 
 p;iy, and he shall. I'll just clap on a shilling to
 
 CLARA FANE. 33 
 
 his bread bill, and another to his milk score, to 
 teach him manners." 
 
 The poetess accordingly, dipping a stump of a 
 pen into a dingy inkstand, proceeded to execute 
 her threat, while Maria began to warble in a 
 sweet voice. 
 
 " I wish you'd practice the song young Simp- 
 son brought you/' said her mother; "you're 
 always at that one/' 
 
 " Wybrow gave me this," said Maria : " I hate 
 the other." 
 
 "Wybrow!" exclaimed Mrs. Spicer; "he's 
 poor enough." 
 
 " That does not signify," said Maria, smiling ; 
 " he's very amiable." 
 
 Mrs. Spicer, with rather a vexed expression, 
 here left the room to repair to the first floor : but 
 when she had reached that stage she was inspired 
 by a sudden idea, and continuing her ascent noise- 
 lessly till the second floor was gained, halted at 
 the door of the sitting-room, where she appeared 
 suddenly seized with a fit of poetical abstraction, 
 for she remained as if rooted to the spot, with her 
 ear inclined towards the somewhat wide opening 
 which occurred between the door and the door- 
 post, which accident of construction enabled any 
 one without to hear sounds almost as clearly as 
 within the apartment. 
 
 c 3
 
 34 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Mrs. Spicer justly considered that it saved a 
 world of trouble to herself and her lodgers if she 
 at once on their arrival made herself mistress of 
 their affairs, and since she had failed in eliciting 
 information from Dr. Cowley, she thought this a 
 good opportunity to avail herself of any revela- 
 tions which the conversation she was likely to 
 overhear might furnish her with. 
 
 It was, originally, by this method that she had 
 arrived at the knowledge of the fact that Mr. 
 Frew en, of the first floor, was worth money, that 
 he had no near relations, but that he had some he 
 particularly detested, as he thought it possible that 
 they might look upon his purse as a resource 
 which he had secretly resolved they should not 
 find to be the case. From this knowledge she 
 was led to consider the probability of his seeking 
 for an heir in some attached stranger and what 
 more likely than that a poor and worthy widow 
 like herself, full of attentions and regard for him, 
 might be the chosen one. 
 
 The result of Mrs. Spicer's speculation on the 
 present occasion was less satisfactory than she 
 could have wished, for the conversation between 
 the Doctor and her lodgers was of too general a 
 character for her to gather more than that the 
 young lady was just returned from abroad, and 
 that Mrs. Fowler, who had met her at the coast,
 
 CLARA FANE. 35 
 
 had written to her old friend the Doctor to pro- 
 cure her apartments in London. She learnt that 
 Dr. Covvley had formerly attended a brother of 
 Mrs. Fowler's in his last illness; that the lady 
 was, consequently, grateful to him, and alluded 
 to many other losses of friends, which caused her 
 voice to falter, and the good-natured Doctor to 
 interrupt her quickly, and turn the conversation 
 into another channel. 
 
 Miss Fane spoke very little, and Mrs. Fowler 
 a great deal ; but nothing that she said added a 
 jot to the information of Mrs. Spicer, who, con- 
 sequently, descended to the first floor, somewhat 
 disappointed. 
 
 " Oh, so you've thought it worth while, ma'am, 
 to come at last to ask how I do this morning," 
 was the salutation,, of Mr. Frewen, a small, spare, 
 yellow, cross-looking old man, who did not move 
 from his arm-chair. " I might die in the night, 
 and be found stiff the next, for all the attention I 
 get, or the inquiries that are made after me. I 
 wanted to see you, Madam Spicer, to tell you I 
 mean to give you warning, for to live in a house 
 where there's never any peace with the knocker 
 where there's neither sleep nor rest at any hour 
 of the night, is more than I can stand. Don't 
 keep answering me don't be insolent ! I'm tired 
 of you and your lodgers, your squalling daughter
 
 36 CLARA FANE. 
 
 and your noisy young men. I shall go away next 
 week. 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Frewen," answered Mrs. 
 Spicer, in a meek, humble tone of voice ; " I'm 
 sure it goes to my heart to see you so agitated, and 
 I wouldn't for all the world have had that trans- 
 action happened last night ; but it was only a 
 quarfer past eleven when the ladies came, and 
 they went up as soft as lambs, for I said to them, 
 there's a first floor of quality sleeping here, and 
 I'd rather burn the house down than disturb such 
 a generous, kind, mild, good, benevolent gent, as 
 he is." 
 
 tm Don't call me a gent, madam," returned Mr. 
 Frewen ; " I don't want to be thought a person of 
 quality; I only want to be quiet I took these 
 lodgings on purpose, and I'm tortured to death. 
 I shall go to Cheltenham next week, and see if I 
 can get a little more attention at the boarding- 
 house than I get here." 
 
 " I'm sure, Mr. Frewen," said the landlady, 
 preserving her humble tone, " as I said to Maria 
 yesterday, if you was to leave to-morrow, I would 
 n't let again for a mouth, in the hope that you'd 
 relent and come back. I never had such a dear, 
 good, considerate lodger that gives no trouble at 
 all, and is always satisfied, and I hope you'll think 
 better of it."
 
 CLARA FANE. 37 
 
 " I'm not obliged to be turned out of a place 
 I choose to live in, am I" said Mr. Frewen, " be- 
 cause you choose to try and ferret me out with 
 noisy women and boys. No : I won't go its 
 just what you want, to get rid of me and let to 
 some fine fellow that'll run off and never pay a 
 farthing. Here, give me my bill I can pay my 
 way let me hear no more about it ; and another 
 time I warn you if you come up threatening me, 
 I'll leave your house without another word." 
 
 As Mr. Frewen, without counting up, threw 
 the amount of her bills on the table before her, 
 by which inadvertence on his part Mrs. Spicer 
 was aware that she had made considerable profit 
 on a month's expenses, she performed her hum- 
 blest curtsey and withdrew, leaving her cross in- 
 mate to the perusal of the Bengal Hurkaru, and 
 once more descended to the lower regions.
 
 38 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Come, let's see the event. Twelfth Night. 
 
 CLARA FAXE, one of the two ladies who had just 
 taken possession of Mrs. Spicer's second floor, 
 has already been introduced to the reader; her 
 companion, Mrs. Fowler, belonged to that class of 
 personages of which the world is, in a great mea- 
 sure, made up, who fill a corner in the great 
 building so well that they call for no particular 
 observation, because the eye is not struck by any 
 salient point in their character which claims com- 
 ment, but who yet contribute to the harmony of 
 the whole, and whose absence at their post would 
 occasion a vacuum, which could not fail to be 
 felt, 
 
 As in a fine piece of music there are only 
 occasional bursts of startling force which tell the 
 better from the level tone of the pleasing re-
 
 CLARA FANE. 39 
 
 mainder, so remarkable personages fix the atten- 
 tion, while quiet characters utter their soft melody 
 unobtrusively, producing a general pleasurable 
 sensation which any attempt to define would be to 
 destroy. 
 
 Mrs. Fowler's whole life had been one scene 
 of amiability ; she possessed no talents, no genius, 
 had no wit, nor poetry, nor romance in her ima- 
 gination, and yet circumstances had placed her in 
 situations as singular as if she had been an en- 
 thusiast and one who was continually seeking ex- 
 citement in action. 
 
 She had travelled and seen many lands, but 
 not with a view of enjoying their beauties or dis- 
 covering their history, for she merely accompanied 
 a sick husband to whom she acted as nurse and 
 attendant. After his death she devoted herself 
 to an invalid brother, and subsequently her time 
 had been given to a deformed and ailing sister, 
 with whom she lived retired in the romantic little 
 valley of Llangollen. She had adopted an orphan 
 child, whose education and future fortunes she 
 had undertaken as a benevolent duty, and to 
 whom she gave herself up as she had done 
 throughout her life to everything and everybody 
 who claimed her care. 
 
 She appeared never to live for herself, but to 
 have been born to act as a guardian to some
 
 40 CLARA FANE. 
 
 object -which required protecting; nor did she 
 ever question the propriety of this abnegation 
 of self, or consider that the time was come when 
 she ought to busy herself Math her own com- 
 forts. 
 
 Her fortune was extremely small, but she had, 
 in the course of her existence, contrived to do 
 more good and relieve more suffering than many 
 of her richer contemporaries who flattered them- 
 selves that they possessed power far beyond hers 
 of dispensing relief and patronage. 
 
 It had become a saying in the neighbourhood 
 where she resided, that Mrs. Fowler's house was 
 always large enough to accommodate any amount 
 of unexpected guests, that her small stables had 
 room for any number of horses, and her garden 
 could supply any quantity of vegetables or flowers 
 required by her neighbours. Certain it is that 
 her wish and will to oblige and render service was 
 so great that she contrived to overcome difficulties 
 which to many would have been insurmountable, 
 and certain it is, also, that her rectitude of mind 
 supplied her with good judgment and correct 
 appreciation of persons and things denied to many 
 who are gifted with a mind of superior power. 
 
 She was rather formal in her manner and pre- 
 cise in her style, but though she was neither poet, 
 musician, nor philosopher, she had a thorough
 
 CLARA FANE. 41 
 
 appreciation of the value of those gifts in others ; 
 her attachments were frequent, and always sin- 
 cere ; she looked on the bright side of human 
 nature, and no failures had been able to induce 
 her to turn the tapestry. She went on believing 
 and expecting good, and had no place in her mind 
 for the admission of suspicion or distrust. 
 
 If Mrs. Spicer had been listening in the bed- 
 room of the back-drawing-room, second-floor, she 
 might have heard the following dialogue between 
 her new lodgers ; and it is not impossible that she 
 was so occupied, as she always bestowed, as has 
 already been observed, much care on the concerns 
 of those under her roof for reasons of her own. 
 
 " My dear Clara/' said Mrs. Fowler, " you 
 had better sit down at once and answer these 
 advertisements ; I really think out of several one 
 may answer. The lady who wants an accom- 
 plished governess for her only child seems just 
 suitable ; answer that first. The lady who wants 
 a good teacher with a Parisian accent, in Derby- 
 shire, might do, we'll consider of that; we can 
 write to both these at all events ; neither of them 
 speak of salary, but they do not seem to require 
 such impossibilities as some of our correspondents, 
 who consider, evidently, that an instructress for 
 youth must be a Colossus of learning and able to 
 exist on the pleasure of teaching alone.
 
 42 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " Since you are determined to start for your- 
 self in the world, dear girl, I must do what you 
 desire, but you know our home at Llangollen is 
 always yours when you require it, and a joy it will 
 always be to my sister and me when you return 
 to us." 
 
 "Yes I know that perfectly, dearest Mrs. 
 Fowler/' returned Clara, kissing her companion 
 affectionately, " and if I did not I should not 
 start with such a light heart, for not to come back 
 to you and Llangollen would be the grief of my 
 life. But, consider, ever since I came a poor 
 little outcast stranger from dear nurse, Susey 
 Love, to your hospitable roof, I have been your 
 child and have had two mothers to atone for the 
 early loss of my own. I have found friends 
 wherever your kind care has sent me ; in Paris 
 those darling Petits have made all my studies 
 delight, and now I am certain I shall be quite 
 happy in my new situation. You know how fond 
 I am of adventures and incidents, and you know 
 too that I feel if I do not like it I can always 
 run away to Langollen, and be as happy as a 
 queen." 
 
 " You have so much energy and genius, Clara," 
 replied Mrs. Fowler, coughing to hide a rising 
 emotion; "that you have more than the usual 
 chances of success in life. Your beginning has
 
 CLARA FANE. 43 
 
 been rude but fortune will, I fondly trust, do much 
 for you in future." 
 
 " Fortune is a fickle fair, dear Mrs. Fowler/' 
 said Clara, gaily, " and must be wooed to be won. 
 I have, as you know too well, a train of romantic 
 aspirations always following me and exciting my 
 mind and I never intend to chase them away, for 
 they amuse and console me at all times when the 
 reality looks too dull. In spite of your reproofs 
 for my castle building I am always making 
 new towers and wings to my fancy structure and 
 at all events if it falls down, I have materials for 
 a new one which it is a pity not to use. Now I 
 never will give up my notions of the future, which 
 are these. See if I am not a good prophet : I 
 shall meet with moje very amiable people, very 
 like the Petits; I shall hear by some strange 
 mode of my father and discover my mother. I 
 shall be acknowledged, be rich, be prosperous, 
 provide for nurse Susey, and 
 
 " Stop Clara stop," exclaimed Mrs. Fowler, 
 " if you do not write the letters there will be no 
 foundation for your castle you must acknowledge 
 so much, so pray begin without loss of time." 
 
 Clara instantly ceased talking and set herself 
 to business in earnest, and the two letters she 
 then wrote brought two answers in the course of 
 time which made her acquainted with two persons
 
 44 CLARA FANE. 
 
 of very different character, both of \vhom exer- 
 cised an influence on her future destiny, thus 
 proving that Clara's philosophy had something in it. 
 
 Mrs. Frillet, whose letter was the first an- 
 swered, stopped her brougham in Poland Street 
 a few days after she had received and replied to 
 Clara's communication. It was a very elegant 
 brougham and was attended by a very delicate 
 page. Mrs. Frillet was a very delicate person, 
 covered up with soft shawls and ermine cloaks, and 
 was assisted by the delicate page to alight, and 
 then mounted the dingy stairs to Mrs. Spicer's 
 second floor very condescendingly and took her 
 seat on the little hard sofa very cosily, beginning 
 at once on business without pause. 
 
 " My dear young lady," said she, in a voice so 
 soft as scarcely to be heard, looking benignly at 
 Clara, "you see I have come myself to ansAver 
 your advertisement for I adore adventures, and I 
 thought a drive would do me good. I hope we 
 shall come to a happy decision and that I shall 
 receive you under my roof very shortly. I like 
 your letter of all things and I am quite satisfied 
 that you are full of accomplishments. I see in 
 your face that you are sensible and pleine c/e bonte. 
 I want a Mend as much as my beloved Dorine 
 requires a governess come to Rose Cottage and 
 see us your friend/' she added, bowing to Mrs.
 
 CLARA FANE. 45 
 
 Fowler, t; will come with you, we will talk things 
 over there as I must not stay, the air of a close 
 London street would overpower me soon. With 
 your grace and delicacy I am sure you will be 
 charmed with Rose Cottage and delighted to quit 
 so uncongenial an atmosphere as this. I who 
 have passed many of my sunniest years in an 
 eastern clime and have experienced the delight of 
 refinement in all its bearings, can really hardly 
 breathe out of a perfumed atmosphere. When 
 one has not been in India, one has seen nothing 
 every other part of the world is flat and insipid 
 in comparison ; but I have a pretty retreat. Your 
 aunt, or mamma, or friend will like my house too 
 I am charmed to make her acquaintance and 
 your's. Can you come the day after to-morrow ? 
 say yes I will send my carriage for you I live 
 on the beautiful banks of the flowery Thames 
 in the sweetest seclusion. I can hear you play 
 then and you will see Dorine a perfect angel 
 they call her the image of her mother perhaps 
 she is like me you will judge. We will spend a 
 day of enjoyment at first, and talk of business at 
 the end of it adieu my dear unknown friend, a 
 sympathy tells me we shall be united in soul. 
 Your protectress is more grave it should be so 
 the contrast is better we shall form a charming 
 societe. I depend on you adieu."
 
 46 CLARA FANE. 
 
 All this little talk had been carried on in a 
 soft whisper, occasionally interrupted by the re- 
 plies of Clara or Mrs. Fowler in monosyllables, for 
 the little lady who spoke was as rapid in her 
 utterance as gentle in her tone ; she seemed to 
 have a continual struggle to suppress her loquacity 
 and confine it within the bounds of approved 
 refinement which she considered herself to have 
 attained in the low tone of her voice. 
 
 Unable to resist the invitation thus amiably 
 given, and not unwilling to accept it, Clara and 
 Mrs. Fowler remained, after she had taken leave, 
 and been conveyed into her downy brougham and 
 driven off, struck with surprise at the singularity 
 of the adventure. 
 
 " It will be really delightful/' said Clara, "to 
 go and spend the day on the 'banks of the flowery 
 Thames' and gaze ' all up the silver Thames and 
 all adown;' but how odd of her to ask us, perfect 
 strangers as we are." 
 
 "It does seem strange," replied Mrs. Fowler; 
 but I dare say London manners are very different 
 from country habits, and you and I are only 
 acquainted with the latter. We may as well go 
 and judge for ourselves of Mrs. Frillet's establish- 
 ment Dr. Cowley perhaps will know who she is 
 we can ask him when he comes to-day." 
 
 "At all events, this you must acknowledge,
 
 CLARA FANE. 47 
 
 j 
 
 dear Mrs. Fowler/' said Clara; "is a singular 
 beginning for a governess. I wonder what Dorine 
 is like ; if she resembles her mother she speaks 
 like a cooing dove." 
 
 At this moment Maria opened, the door intro- 
 ducing another visitor in the person of Mrs. 
 Trumble, who announced herself as the lady who 
 required a teacher in her school in Derbyshire. 
 Mrs. Trumble offered a striking contrast to the 
 delicate little Mrs. Frillet, for she was a broad, 
 stout, old lady with a red face and large nose which 
 seemed to possess a flexibility so remarkable that 
 it expressed her feelings as vividly as another 
 person's eyes might do, being agitated by every 
 emotion and variable both as to colour and form 
 according to the sentiments she experienced. Mrs. 
 Trumble, though the mistress of an establishment 
 for young ladies, attended chiefly to the domestic 
 department and seldom found any inconvenience 
 from the remarkably original pronunciation in 
 which she indulged, as she was not called upon to 
 exert her powers in other ways than in carving at 
 the school table, and attending to the numerous 
 details of a large house filled with young inmates 
 from all the villages and small towns round about 
 Bakewell, for it was at that place that Vernon 
 House, the most popular school in the county was 
 situated.
 
 48 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Able assistants imparted knowledge to the 
 pupils, at the head of whom, as she related to the 
 two ladies whom she now visited, was one of 
 extraordinary capacity and power, her partner, 
 quite a wonder of erudition and quite a treasure 
 designed by nature for a school. 
 
 "Now you see, Miss," said Mrs. Trumble, 
 addressing Clara, "we have plenty of good 
 teachers but we want one as knows the French 
 quite off-hand and can play and sing well, for our 
 farmer's daughters is all brought up as elegant 
 as possible and can afford to pay pretty well, and 
 their Pas likes them to have the best of edications 
 as can be given : and as for music, Miss Giles, 
 herself, my partner, is a first rate hand at that 
 and knows the other things too, but can't be 
 expected to teach all, as she's one of the heads 
 and has money in the concern. So, if you are 
 willing to take my situation I would like you bet- 
 ter than any of the many ladies I have seen and 
 you can come down with me next .week when I go 
 back. It can be for six month's trial if you 
 like and I am sure you'll stay and like to ; 
 we're very comfortable up in Derbyshire and quite 
 friendly." 
 
 The terms proposed by Mrs. Trumble were 
 scarcely in accordance with the picture she had
 
 CLARA FANE. 49 
 
 presented of the rich farmers of the country, but 
 the prospect she drew of all the advantages to be 
 found beneath her roof, made the offer rather a 
 tempting one. Mrs. Fowler, after telling her that 
 she had a visit to pay to a lady with whom they 
 were in treaty, begged to be allowed to defer her 
 decision until the event had occurred, and they 
 parted with that understanding. 
 
 On the appointed day, and at the appointed 
 hour, the brougham of Mrs. Frillet stopped at 
 the dingy door in Poland Street, and the spectacles 
 of Mrs. Spicer, peering over her low blind, im- 
 mediately conveyed to the wearer of them the 
 perception that it was arrived. 
 
 " Well," said she to Maria, " here it is, and 
 my up-stairses will go out, sure enough, in that 
 very carriage that brought that odd, little woman 
 the other day : if it hadn't been for Frewen ring- 
 ing I should have heard all about the visit, but 
 just as she got in he must bother for his fire, and 
 I was obliged to go out of the back room. Didn't 
 you get anything out of the young lady about it, 
 Maria ?" 
 
 " Oh," said Maria, who was drumming away 
 at her stony piano, trying to accompany herself 
 in a new song, " I quite forgot to pump, as you 
 told me, when I went up last night, for Miss Fane 
 gave me this pretty German air and she sang 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 CLARA FANE. 
 
 me the tune she has such a sweet voiee ten 
 times sweeter than Celia's. Do, ma, listen to it 
 Wybrow will so like it !" 
 
 "Do leave off your squalling, Maria," cried 
 her mother, " and run up and tell them the car- 
 riage is here. Fll just step out and talk to the 
 young man till they come." 
 
 As she spoke Mrs. Spicer opened the parlour 
 door, and as Maria mounted the stairs humming 
 " Weine, weine V she threw open the street door 
 and in a bland voice addressed the small page who 
 stood in attendance 
 
 " Well, my young man/' said she, insinuat- 
 ingly, " so you have come to fetch the ladies 
 they'll soon be down would you like to take a 
 drop of something ? I dare say you've had a 
 
 long ride this morning its a good way to 
 
 I forget where your missis lives ?" 
 
 But the small page only bowed and smiled, 
 and his answer being a hopeless " Plait il ? ma- 
 dame." Mrs. Spicer was fain to give up the attack, 
 for glancing at the coachman she observed that he 
 sat immoveable on his box, as if he were part of 
 the machine, only to be moved when his horses 
 were put in motion. 
 
 " They're foreigners too !" said she, in a dis- 
 appointed tone, as she returned to her blind and 
 watched the party as they got into the carriage;
 
 CLARA FANE. 51 
 
 " 'tis very odd the Doctor knows so little of 'em. 
 I'll ferret it out, somehow, however. What has 
 this fine carriage to do with advertising for a 
 governess's place ? and that I heard with my own 
 ears." 
 
 ft 2
 
 52 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Se sentir heureux : voila le but de la vie : pen iinporte 
 les routes par lesquelles on y parvient." 
 
 Sophie Gay. 
 
 THE summer aspect of Rose Cottage was extremely 
 attractive, for it stood in the midst of a velvet 
 lawn, sloping down to the banks of the Thames, 
 which it reached, uninterrupted by railing or 
 boundary of any kind, but dipped its gentle banks 
 into the crystal water, and laved its long-leaved 
 willows in the glassy mirror, without fear of in- 
 truding cockneys, for on each side of the small 
 domain a wheel-shaped palissade guarded the 
 grounds from stranger's feet, and, except in a 
 boat, the lawn could not be reached. 
 
 Clumps of trees of graceful shape, twined with 
 flowering creepers, which clung to the stems and 
 boughs, were scattered here and there amidst the 
 verdure and trellices of aromatic shrubs and 
 flowers, formed bowers and temples in different
 
 CLARA FANE. 53 
 
 retreats, while ancient, lofty trees of the freest 
 growth, crowded behind the house and shut it 
 completely from view of the road behind, as if it 
 stood in an isolated wood, far from the haunts of 
 men. 
 
 A fountain, surrounded by pots of hothouse 
 flowers, at this early time of the year, threw up its 
 jets into the clear blue sky, and fell into a basin 
 filled with gold fishes that glittered in the sun of 
 May. 
 
 Behind the house, at some distance in the 
 midst of a flower garden, dividing it from a spa- 
 cious kitchen garden, screened by a high wall 
 covered with creeping plants, extended a green 
 house filled with orange trees and all their tropical 
 brethren waiting in that retreat till the heat of 
 the sun allowed them to breathe the open air. In 
 the centre of this green house was a sort of pavi- 
 lion, fitted up with sofas and tables and covered 
 with that variegated India matting wjiich yields- 
 a perfume to the foot that presses it; lamps of 
 alabaster hung suspended from the dome ceiling 
 which, when lighted on a summer evening, cast 
 upon the groups of flowers piled up to their height 
 a gentle gleam suited to their delicate natures, 
 and a fountain in a distant recess murmured 
 through shells and fell over steps of marble into a 
 vase supported by Cupids.
 
 54 CLARA FANE. 
 
 The house itself was like most of those 
 fancy residences which ornament the banks of 
 the Thames, the architecture of which is some- 
 thing vague, between a Norman cottage and a 
 Grecian temple, presenting to the eye thatched 
 roofs and projecting gables, trellised windows and 
 pillared arcades, all extremely incongruous and 
 extremely enjoyable, and though, it may be, calling 
 for reprobation from a precise artist, yet capable 
 of affording much delight to a summer idler ; all 
 its deformities and absurdities being beautifully 
 concealed by heaps of flowers and screens of 
 leafy fragrance. 
 
 Within, as without, all was gay and attractive 
 to the eye : nothing magnificent, but every object 
 selected with art, and formed to amuse a butterfly 
 taste which demanded graceful contours and 
 sparkling forms. 
 
 There were pictures on the walls but none of 
 a severe character; most of them water colour 
 sketches of lively scenes, and miniatures and 
 flower paintings ; there was plenty of looking- 
 glass reflecting vistas of white silk draperies held 
 back by rose-coloured bands and no want of 
 china and gilded vases in the small but numerous 
 rooms, opening one out of another and covered 
 with velvet-soft carpets and lighted by ranges of 
 loug windows opening to the gay garden without.
 
 CLARA FANE. 55 
 
 The carriage which conveyed Clara and Mrs. 
 Fowler to Rose Cottage drove up to an entrance 
 in a little wood behind, and they were introduced 
 through a long conservatory into a room fitted up 
 with green drapery and roses as if arrayed for 
 a fete. 
 
 Mrs. Frillet, fantastically dressed in green 
 with a chaplet of rosebuds on her head, came 
 forward to meet them ; they scarcely recognised 
 in her their visitor in Poland Street, so much 
 younger and more debonaire did she appear. She 
 was still pretty and art had carefully repaired the 
 charms which time had somewhat deteriorated, so 
 that, at the first glance and in a dim light, she 
 might be taken for much younger than she was. 
 
 She did not speak, but after embracing them, 
 she tripped to an open pianoforte where she seated 
 herself, and throwing back her ringlets raised her 
 eyes affectedly, as if inspired, and sang in recita- 
 tive to her own accompaniment, which was not 
 without skill, the following words : 
 
 " Fair spirits, welcome to our fairy bower we 
 greet you well forget the dull cold world and for 
 a time consent to dwell amongst us." 
 
 Although Mrs. Fowler stood in a state of 
 bewildered amazement at this scene, it was dif- 
 ferent with Clara, who was so great an enthusiast 
 in music that she at once forgot the circumstances
 
 56 CLARA FANE. 
 
 in which she stood and her mind excited and her 
 imagination warmed by the originality of her new 
 acquaintance, she felt that all common modes of 
 salutation were out of the question and stepping 
 a little forward replied in a recitative, accompany- 
 ing with great correctness the chords which the 
 little lady continued to play. 
 
 " We come as pilgrims to an unknown region, 
 and stand amazed amidst the fairy people." 
 
 "Admirable! charming!" exclaimed the 
 player, jumping up ; ' ' you are exactly the person 
 we wanted." 
 
 So saying she rang a small bell, when two 
 female attendants, also dressed in green, though 
 not so fantastically as their mistress, entered and 
 disembarrassed the visitors of their cloaks. 
 
 " Now follow the Queen of Fairies/' cried 
 their hostess ; " follow, follow, follow me ! that I 
 may introduce you to our king who will be 
 charmed at the new acquaintances I bring him." 
 
 She led the way, warbling as she went, into 
 another room where, at a window, with his back 
 towards them, stood a tall, elegant-looking man, 
 of middle age, who scarcely seemed to notice 
 tbeir entrance. 
 
 "He is, as usual, abstracted," said their 
 conductress; "we must draw him from himself. 
 Sit down, fair Syren," she continued, addressing
 
 CLARA FANE. 57 
 
 Clara, " and charm him with some melody he 
 hates formality it will be the best introduction." 
 
 "Excuse me," said Clara, shrinking back; 
 " I am quite unable to sing before a perfect 
 stranger." 
 
 " He is unhappy and there is a gloom on his 
 mind which music helps to dissipate. You are 
 too kind to refuse/' whispered the little lady. 
 
 Clara looked towards the gentleman and 
 observed the extreme sadness of his countenance 
 which plainly told that he suffered. There was 
 something noble and dignified in his bearing, and 
 she felt an instant wish to afford him a pleasure 
 which she could not but be aware she possessed 
 the means of imparting, for her musical powers 
 were of the first order. She accordingly, although 
 with some embarrassment, took her place at a 
 piano-forte and struck a few chords. The gentle- 
 man started and appeared to become instantly 
 aware of their presence, but he did not move 
 from his place. 
 
 Clara, who watched his movements, continued 
 to play. She chose a favourite German air to 
 which she gave peculiar expression, and the deli- 
 cacy of her touch and the taste she displayed at 
 once attracted all the attention of the stranger, 
 who was evidently an enthusiast. He approached 
 the instrument and seated himself near it while 
 
 D 3
 
 58 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Mrs. Frillet threw herself on a sofa near and 
 coiled her pretty little form round, as if in a nest 
 amongst the cushions. 
 
 Presently the gentleman drew near her and 
 in a low tone seemed to be making inquiries. 
 
 " They are the new acquaintances I told you 
 of," said the queen of the fairies ; " that charm- 
 ing girl is called Clara." 
 
 The gentleman resumed his position and when 
 Clara had finished playing he took her hand with 
 a benevolent expression, and thanked her very 
 cordially for her courtesy and kindness. 
 
 "Do not think me encroaching/' said he, 
 " if I entreat you to sing ; it is long since I was 
 so delighted, and I see that you are a lover, as 
 well as myself, of music." 
 
 Without hesitation and pleased at his man- 
 ner, Clara began another symphony, and again 
 she chose a German air, accompanying the music 
 this time with her voice, at the request of the 
 listener. 
 
 Again and again, as her song finished, the 
 gentlemen entreated her to continue, till at length 
 he started, and leading her away, exclaimed : 
 
 " Is it possible that selfishness can be carried 
 so far ! not another note." 
 
 " You have studied the language of the Father 
 Land," said he, " while they were seated at a
 
 CLARA FANE. 59 
 
 table covered with refreshments, and attended 
 only by the same two damsels in green whom 
 they had first seen. 
 
 "You have read the poets of the land of 
 Minnesingers, fair Clara, I need not ask ; but 
 have you been in Germany ?" 
 
 " No/' replied Clara ; " nor do I feel a great 
 anxiety to go there ; I fear my dreams would be 
 dispelled. My imagination pictured the Germans 
 as a dreamy people full of poetry and philosophy, 
 but I have heard them described as coarse, heavy 
 and uninteresting." 
 
 " You have heard that from their enemies, the 
 volatile French ; it is true that they are a solid, 
 stolid people," returned he, " and appear at first 
 sight to have little taste except in music ; they do 
 not understand, they cannot feel painting ; they 
 cling to the alphabet of art, taught them by their 
 first masters, certainly marvels of their time and 
 country, but still only the youngest of Nature's 
 pupils ; they like colour and feel not form ; they 
 cherish truth, but it is apt to be, with them, com- 
 mon, coarse fact, for as yet they know not ideality 
 in art, they keep themselves too much down to 
 earth. They daub their houses with hideous 
 frescos ; they plaster their palaces with gold on 
 biickdust grounds; with paint and decorations 
 they spoil their fine architecture; with needless
 
 60 CLARA FANE. 
 
 ornament they spoil their pictures ; but look at 
 their poetry and music ! they are a great but savage 
 people making a struggle after a longer bondage 
 to ignorance than other nations, and they have a 
 soul within which will blaze forth through all their 
 mistakes. They have no good modern painters, 
 but their one sculptor, their Swan thaler, is a host 
 in himself, enough to regenerate a world of 
 bad artists. He can do anything, he is a severer, 
 perhaps a purer, Canova, a Danneker, a Thor- 
 waldson, or at least worthy to follow them." 
 
 " I feel the merits of pictures rather than of 
 statues/' said Clara. " I think the mind must 
 be educated for admiration of that great art." 
 
 " Perhaps so," was the reply ; " a statue is a 
 picture without colour, an engraving embodied; 
 the purer because it is without ornament, it is the 
 Psyche of Art, not superior in beauty but equal 
 to the Cupid, and more etherial. You must go to 
 Italy." 
 
 " That is my great ambition, but not likely to 
 be gratified," said Clara, smiling. " I am just 
 returned from abroad and shall stay long in Eng- 
 land now." 
 
 " You are come from Paris ! " said her ques- 
 tioner; "you have seen the gayest, the pleasantest, 
 the most amusing city in the world to live in. 
 But Paris is the extinguisher of sentiment, ro-
 
 
 CLARA FANE. 61 
 
 mance, taste and hope, and of principle, too/' he 
 added, sadly. " In Germany all is future, in Italy 
 all is past, in France all is present, and the present 
 is not enough for the mind of man. What is the 
 present ? where is it ? it is gone while we name 
 it, the future lives, the past is immortal, let us 
 pursue both, let us fly from the present and its 
 deceits." 
 
 " Dear brother/' said Mrs. Frillet, " now you 
 know I live entirely for the present and enjoy it, 
 as you most assuredly do particularly at this 
 moment. Is it not so ?" 
 
 " No," replied her brother, " I am thinking 
 even now of the past of a few moments, the fair 
 Clara's songs, and of the future, when she shall 
 sing again. The present moment gives us merely 
 the food of our bodies." 
 
 " Which is necessary to sustain the mind you 
 speak of," returned Mrs. Frillet, " therefore, pray 
 help Mrs. Fowler to something more." 
 
 " Would," said the host playfully, " pleasura- 
 ble as is the sensation of tasting exquisite viands, 
 would that we were creatures who could live on 
 thought or air ; why can we not exist by inhaling 
 perfumes : there is doubtless some essence which 
 renews life and suspends pain. Depend on it, the 
 secret will at length be found of the marvellous 
 elixir which will do this. We have made great
 
 62 CLARA FANE. 
 
 strides towards the discovery recent ly, and shall 
 arrive at last at the wished for conclusion/' 
 
 " But will this elixir preserve youth as well as 
 life ?" asked Clara. " If not, it would be a sad 
 gift." 
 
 " It will renew youth and preserve it," 
 returned the gentleman, " otherwise you justly say 
 it would be a sad gift, for life mienjoyed is void, 
 and, without health and youth, to enjoy it is 
 impossible." 
 
 " Do you think man was then made for enjoy- 
 ment alone ?" said Mrs. Fowler gravely ; " have 
 you never observed that enjoyment is rather a 
 name than a fact, and that toil and sorrow, priva- 
 tion and want, are the natural lot of human 
 beings." 
 
 " Madam," answered the host with equal 
 gravity, " all the human race is condemned to 
 suffering : we suffer at our birth and till our 
 death, but we have equal capacity to enjoy, and if 
 we watched the happy moments we might attain 
 it much oftener than we do. Our notion of 
 Heaven is that it is all happiness, and that happi- 
 ness is reflected here below in a thousand shapes 
 evanescent, but capable of being arrested if sought 
 for: 
 
 ' Sometimes the wine, sometimes the cup, I call thee.'
 
 CLARA FANE. 63 
 
 The image of celestial joy shines in a lovely face 
 and in a beautiful landscape^ in a flower and in a 
 leaf, in a clear stream and on an icy mountain. I 
 have sought it everywhere and am seeking it 
 always." 
 
 "And you, at last/' said Clara smiling, "seem 
 to have found it in this charming retreat, where 
 all is beauty and grace." 
 
 " It is never stationary/' returned the host, 
 " you must pursue it. I. shall remain here on the 
 banks of this flowing river as long as it stays 
 with me. I feel at once the struggles it makes to 
 free its wings, and when once it flies I follow." 
 
 " You have wealth and power to do so/' said 
 Mrs. Fowler, " but what are those to do who 
 cannot pursue the phantom ?" 
 
 The host did not reply but by ringing a silver 
 bell near him, and, at the signal, a tapestry was 
 drawn up, and the suite of rooms formerly 
 described were exhibited to view. The strangers 
 were led through these and the host presented a 
 rose to Clara with an air of grave courtesy which 
 suited the majestic style of his figure and the 
 classical character of his head and features. 
 Clara was struck by observing that not a book 
 was to be seen in any room in the house, nor was 
 there any indication of the inhabitants, no signs 
 of children or childish occupation, and at length
 
 64 CLARA FANE. 
 
 she ventured to ask Mrs. Frillet if the little 
 Dorine, her future pupil, were to be presented to 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. Frillet put her finger on her lip. " I 
 will tell you," said she, "when the hour of business 
 arrives ; we are only now to think of amusing 
 ourselves." 
 
 " But/' hazarded Clara, " I have no right to 
 enjoy your kind hospitality without bestowing a 
 thought on my duties, for such I hope to under- 
 take in the instruction of your little daughter." 
 
 " Do you remember that Psyche," said Mrs. 
 Frillet, "who had nothing to desire yet she wished 
 for the only thing kept from her. Look, here 
 she stands in the marble of Canova, smiling a 
 warning to you." 
 
 Clara was silent, but when in the retirement 
 of their chamber at night she sat by Mrs. Fowler, 
 and they talked over the adventure of the day, 
 she indulged freely in expressions of surprise. 
 
 " I am quite as much astonished as you," said 
 Mrs. Fowler, " at the whole affair, and begin to 
 think we are really in a fairy palace or are 
 dreaming. Your romantic notions are more 
 likely to be realized here than my grave fears at 
 the probable privations you would meet in your 
 new career ; but here all is sunshine without 
 shade, and but that the little Dorine appears
 
 CLARA FANE. 65 
 
 invisible, I should congratulate you on your good 
 fortune." 
 
 " Our host," said Clara, " seems the only per- 
 son in the house besides our hostess and the 
 green attendants. How fairy-like, yet how 
 exquisite our dinner was served by them ! yet 
 Paris must surely have furnished the cooks that 
 provided it. How beautifully the invisible 
 musicians played during the repast ! There 
 must be magic in all this. Suppose we were 
 prisoners in an enchanted castle and unable to 
 escape ? I really begin to fear it. We have not 
 even heard our host's name. I wonder who and 
 what he is, besides a rich man. He is much 
 older than his sister, but not like her in any way ; 
 for she is simply affected, while he is grave and 
 philosophic in the midst of his fantasies. I am 
 quite content, however, to wait the result of this 
 adventure since we can do nothing by striving." 
 
 " I think you mistake about his age," replied 
 Mrs. Fowler, " he is so .tall and grand-looking, 
 that he looks older, I imagine, than he really is. 
 At times I fancy him quite young : it is the 
 occasional gravity of his deportment that gives 
 him years. I am puzzled about that, as in all 
 other ways but let us sleep upon it, and perhaps 
 to-morrow may enlighten us." 
 
 They accordingly retired to their several
 
 66 CLARA FANE. 
 
 couches in two niches filled with looking-glass and 
 shaded with draperies of gold-coloured satin, 
 richer than any they had seen below stairs. The 
 ceiling of the chamber was tent-shaped, the 
 centre being a mirror, from the midst of which 
 hung a small lamp of gold and alabaster, dimly 
 lighted and shaded by a transparent screen of 
 silk, so as to shed the softest light through the 
 room. 
 
 " How unlike, said Clara, " as she took leave 
 of Mrs. Fowler for the night, " our shabby bed 
 and faded curtains in our dingy rooms in Poland 
 Street!" 
 
 " Life is made up of contrasts," replied her 
 guardian, " and this is one of the most curious."
 
 CLARA FANE. 67 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " If we love because we find one another amiable, ought 
 we to be blamed for it ? Let Destiny bear the blame." 
 
 Arabian Nights. 
 
 THE next day was an agreeable though clouded 
 day, and it was passed in rambles in the beautiful 
 but somewhat confined grounds, in examining 
 pictures, and in conversation, and the evening 
 seemed to arrive almost suddenly upon, them, so 
 pleasant had been the hours. 
 
 At dinner their party was added to by the 
 arrival of a new guest, who entered unannounced, 
 and, as it would seem, unnoticed a circumstance 
 which surprised Mrs. Fowler, who, indeed, was 
 thrown into a state of complete astonishment at 
 all she saw. Clara imagined that the new comer, 
 no doubt, formed a part of this singular family, 
 but as no one's name was mentioned she was 
 altogether in the dark.
 
 68 CLARA FANE. 
 
 The stranger was a tall, handsome, and very 
 distinguished young man, and appeared to be 
 perfectly at his ease and at home, not only in the 
 society of her hosts but in her own, for he occa- 
 sionally addressed his conversation to her, as if con- 
 tinuing some theme they had formerly discussed. 
 
 The host and his young friend talked a good 
 deal of general subjects, and after the whole party 
 had adjourned to the drawing-room, the same 
 animated discussions were continued, the remarks 
 of the younger personage being sometimes tinged 
 with something that approached levity in their 
 extreme nonchalance : he occasionally appeared 
 inclined to throw off all the trammels of gravity 
 and assume the most childish manner, but 
 whether in compliment to herself or Mrs. Frillet 
 Clara could not determine. 
 
 She was seated alone for a few moments near 
 a window, when he suddenly approached and 
 pausing, gazed so fixedly upon her that she almost 
 shrunk from his expression. 
 
 "When did you arrive?" said he suddenly, 
 with a peculiar meaning in his tone. 
 
 " I arrived here yesterday/' replied Clara. 
 
 " I mean, when from France ? " said he in the 
 same manner. 
 
 "A few weeks since," answered she, surprised 
 at the brusquerie of his questioning.
 
 CLARA FANE. 69 
 
 He turned away, without further rejoinder and 
 went on with a conversation he had interrupted 
 hastily with his friend. 
 
 The host shortly afterwards came and seated 
 himself near her. 
 
 " They tell me you like France," said he ; "I 
 do not wonder at it, at your age ; it is a country 
 that pleases the young." 
 
 " I like it for the sake of friends there," said 
 Clara ; " I know very little of the country itself." 
 
 " The French," continued the host, " are the 
 most extraordinary people in the world ; they 
 have more genius, more perseverance, more learn- 
 ing, more talent, than all other nations combined. 
 Look at their literature at the present moment 
 they publish every year nearly two thousand works 
 on every sort of subject, grave and gay. Indeed the 
 world runs a chance of being overwhelmed with 
 books, for since the four hundred years ago which 
 gave us printing the equilibrium of the globe has 
 been said to be put in peril, and the French con- 
 tribute the greatest share of this encumbrance." 
 
 Clara smiled as she observed, " I cannot but 
 see that you have a distaste for books in your 
 fairy dwelling here, for I discover none in any 
 part." 
 
 " Certainly not," returned the host, " I prefer 
 studying men. I am like the Persian lover who
 
 70 CLARA FANE. 
 
 exclaims to his companions who come to him for 
 instruction, ' burn your books if you wish to study 
 with me : the science I follow is not to be taught 
 by reading/ " 
 
 Books are the bane of life; they either give too 
 much light or throw too much shadow. I read 
 sometimes nevertheless, but when I do I banish 
 man they do not blend well. There are two 
 worlds, one of observation, the other of imitation. 
 They who read too much think too little of them- 
 selves. But to return to our neighbours the clever 
 and enterprising French. They are the best 
 architects in Europe as we the English are the 
 worst." 
 
 "They know also," interposed the stranger 
 guest, "how to furnish work for artists better 
 than any other nation in the world, for no sooner 
 do they arrive at perfection than they destroy 
 their works of art in some popular emeute and all 
 their men of genius have to set to work again." 
 
 Then changing his manner altogether " My 
 sweet fairy queen," whispered the speaker to Mrs. 
 Frillet, at whose feet he sat and who was occupy- 
 ing her fingers in modelling some wax, "you 
 seem not to have caught the expression you are 
 trying for, give it me, see this I am sure is the cha- 
 racter at once." And as he spoke he twisted the 
 wax into the semblance of a grotesque head which
 
 CLARA FANE. 71 
 
 appeared to Mrs. Frillet so striking a chance 
 resemblance of the person intended to be repre- 
 sented that she threw herself back on the sofa in 
 irrepressible amusement. 
 
 " My king, my judge/' cried the stranger 
 holding up his perfomances, behold him behold 
 the conjugal portrait, it is I am convinced done to 
 the life. Alas ! that such a husband should be 
 far away over seas mourned by his dove ! here is 
 a prettier subject and as like/' 
 
 In a moment he had modelled a small bust 
 with the features of Clara caricatured but ex- 
 tremely pretty and too like to be mistaken. With- 
 out addressing or noticing her he handed it to the 
 host who received it with a pleased look, and the 
 artist then coiling himself amongst the cushions 
 began to warble in a fine clear tone, making 
 the echoes of the chamber answer to the loud 
 sweetness. 
 
 Mrs Fowler, whose curiosity was roused, could 
 not now forbear asking Mrs Frillet to name the 
 new guest. 
 
 "We are/' said she, "in a singular state of 
 ignorance yours is, in fact, the only name we are 
 acquainted with and we cannot even address our 
 kind host whom you call only the King of the 
 Fairies." 
 
 "Cease, cease, my dear friend," replied the
 
 72 CLARA FANE. 
 
 lady of the wreath, " and know that a thorough 
 knowledge of anything is the height of folly. We 
 are all in that happy state of uncertainty which 
 reaches the sublime : of what consequence to any 
 of us can it be to know each other's names; we are 
 all pleased with each other for the time and if we 
 knew more the illusion might be dispelled. You 
 and your Clara are the most favoured, perhaps, 
 in speculating upon us, and I, the least, who know 
 that you have reached us from a great city of 
 smoke : we at least appear to you etherial remain 
 in this blissful cloud and fancy us as immaterial 
 as we profess to be." 
 
 " You are right," joined in the guest who was 
 listening to their coversation " never read a title 
 page or look at a play bill, never ask the name 
 of a person or a place ; leave all to hazard and 
 you will be spared many a vexation from which 
 we are exempt ; know only that you are in the 
 presence of the grand master and mistress of the 
 passive joy and see others of our band have joined 
 us." 
 
 As he spoke, from various entrances appeared 
 groups of personages in costumes of the most 
 singular kind; no one saluted the master or 
 mistress, but all fell as it were noiselessly into 
 their places on different sofas and cushions, and a 
 soft murmur spread itself through the rooms like
 
 CLARA FANE. 73 
 
 the cooing of doves or the rustling of the trains 
 of peacocks. 
 
 Clara found herself sometimes joining one 
 group, sometimes another, no one looked at her as 
 a stranger and all conversed from time to time on 
 art or taste, as if they were quite aware that, being 
 there, she was formed to understand them. The 
 novelty of the whole scene delighted Clara so 
 much that she whispered to Mrs. Fowler when 
 she rejoined her, after wandering through all the 
 rooms 
 
 " This appears to me to be really society in its 
 purity: there is neither scandal nor inquisitiveness, 
 neither boldness nor bashfulness : every one is 
 instructed, every one is able to converse on some 
 agreeable subject all foreign to the present com- 
 pany or scene. It is like a party of shades met in 
 the fields of Elysium, capable of enjoyment without 
 noise or confusion, each assisting the other and all 
 intent only on gliding smoothly along the tran- 
 quil vale of life." 
 
 "You think then we have succeeded in our 
 attempt to realize a passive state of enjoyment," 
 said the host, who had overheard her and who 
 seemed to possess an ubiquity of person, for he 
 was to be seen whenever a pause was made. 
 
 " You think we have reached a certain degree 
 of perfection; I am glad of it; we have the 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 CLARA FANE. 
 
 merit of novelty in our reunions. London or Paris 
 parties are a medley of music, heat, and fatigue 
 mistakes quite unsuitable to rational and educated 
 persons. It is better when one wishes for this sort 
 of enjoyment to seek it in the streets amongst the 
 populace for there it has its merits : no sort of 
 enjoyment is to be despised, but it must be chosen 
 judiciously ; the lowest has its charm sometimes, 
 but we must occasionally seek for the highest. Of 
 late, society has made such fearful descents that 
 it has reached its acme and must rise to exist.' 
 
 11 What a world this were if it could .last \" 
 said Clara musing, " but this is merely shadow, 
 the substance of existence is heavy and sinks: this 
 dream-land can not have being long at the foot of 
 a volcano." 
 
 " When the eruption comes it must take its 
 way " answered the Grand Master of Passive Joy 
 " it is useless to flee from it, but it is possible 
 to forget it." 
 
 " You are of the same mind as that gay Italian 
 society who concealed themselves in flower gar- 
 dens from the plague one must cease to have 
 affections or interests if one would enjoy this sort 
 of life." said Clara. 
 
 " I have survived both," replied the host, 
 without a change of tone : but so saying he 
 withdrew.
 
 CLARA FANE. 75 
 
 ( ' There is after all," said Clara, sighing, " more 
 sorrow than joy in all this : it is only acting 
 happiness." 
 
 "There is no real happiness," said a voice 
 near, " it exists only as we resolve to make it : 
 turbulence of any kind destroys it : all passions 
 disturb it 
 
 ' Seat yourself by a pleasant stream and mark how life 
 glides along go iiot to the borders of the sea in a storm to 
 \vatch the wrecks that will presently strew the shore.' " 
 
 "But friendship? but affection?" said Clara, 
 "is life worth anything without these?" 
 
 " Or love ? you would ask," returned the 
 person who spoke, who was no other than the 
 wax-modeller "love is a charm and an enjoy- 
 ment in its commencement but beware of its 
 end. Keep love always young, let it be for ever 
 at its beginning; I, for instance, feel it now for 
 you and am happy ; you feel it for no one as yet, 
 and are happy in your tranquillity : I would 
 rather from this time never behold you again, or 
 hear your voice because, you would be less charm- 
 ing to me the second tinle than the first, and 
 the third or fourth perhaps even you would be- 
 come indifferent to me." 
 
 Clara could not help feeling startled at this 
 singular avowal, so oddly made, but, resolving to 
 lend herself to the whim of the hour, she answered, 
 
 E 2
 
 76 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " But it is said that the hopes and fears of love 
 lend it its chief charm the present can afford 
 neither : you mistake however in calling self-satis- 
 faction love/' 
 
 "You understand the subject," replied the 
 guest, rather maliciously and forgetting for an 
 instant the passive tone assumed by the society, 
 which however he instantly resumed. " I under- 
 stand it, however, better and am content to lead 
 you. We have no concealments here, for all is 
 innocence and truth amongst us. I have said I 
 love you because I believe in sympathy, and that 
 has drawn us together : why did not the Grand 
 Master talk to you on this subject, and why did 
 you not lead to it as you did to me ? because there 
 is not sympathy equal to ours between you two 
 you are not displeased although you blush ; we 
 shall never be disunited in idea from henceforth ; 
 we are supposed to be the greatest, perhaps the 
 only positive strangers in the room, and yet sym- 
 pathy has led us to meet. It is true we have 
 already met before, and depend on it we cannot 
 now be released the one from the other." 
 
 " You are mistaken/' said Clara, laughing in 
 spite of herself; "we never could have met before, 
 but you are already preparing to disturb the 
 tranquil happiness you spoke of, if you indeed 
 speak the truth in asserting that a second and
 
 CLARA FANE. 77 
 
 third interview ruins the pleasure found in the 
 first." 
 
 ' There are some exceptions," said the stran- 
 ger, unable to repress a laugh, which responded 
 to her own, but immediately resuming the soft 
 calm tone of his former conversation. " We shall 
 however," said he, " not meet again for some 
 time and then in so different a position that the 
 novelty of the scene will make our next interview 
 equal to a first." 
 
 " How can you tell this," said Clara ; " are 
 the members of the Order of Passive Enjoyment 
 prophets." 
 
 " Some of them," replied he ; " alas ! when 
 our host quits England the pageant will be dis- 
 pelled. 
 
 " What ! will he leave the Paradise he has 
 created ?" cried Clara. 
 
 " He can create another this is not the first 
 he has formed," was the answer; "nothing is 
 Paradise that lasts long; this has existed some 
 time, and what assures me that it will be dis- 
 pelled is that to-night you have disturbed the 
 reign of passive enjoyment." 
 
 "I had no intention of doing so," said Clara, 
 " nor do I believe that I have the power." 
 
 " You have done so and will continue to do 
 so. I shall be unable in future to live without
 
 73 CLARA FANE. 
 
 you and shall seek you wherever you are to be 
 found." 
 
 As the strange guest said this, Clara turned 
 away somewhat uncomfortable at the turn his con- 
 versation was taking. She sought Mrs. Fowler 
 immediately and her grave looks convinced her 
 that something had occurred not quite in accord- 
 ance with the harmony of the rest of the evening. 
 
 The guests departed as they came, apparently 
 disappearing at their own will, without comment 
 or salutation, and Clara observed that from the 
 time she had turned away from her admiring 
 companion she had seen him no more. 
 
 On the third day, the brougham took back 
 the strangers to Poland Street ; the green atten- 
 dants had announced it to them and declined 
 replying to their questions respecting their host, 
 who did not appear. They could only therefore 
 submit to the singular whims of these fairy people 
 and await the result in their very different domi- 
 cile in Poland Street. The hope, however, that 
 Clara had entertained of obtaining a situation 
 evaporated fast.
 
 CLARA FANE. 79 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Why vanish you away ? or is my sense 
 Deluded by my hope ! 
 
 Habington. 
 
 " MY dear madam/' said Dr. Cowley, " what you 
 tell me of your adventure on the banks of the 
 Thames is almost incredible: but that the 
 brougham you speak of, the page, and the lady, 
 have been actually seen by the eyes of Mrs. 
 Spicer, my worthy friend below, I must conclude 
 that Miss Clara's imaginative mind has invented 
 a romance which she has related so vividly to you 
 that you believe yourself to have been an actor in 
 the scenes she describes. I have been to Rich- 
 mond, to Twickenham, to Isleworth, and several 
 places along the river, and I see no such fairy 
 palace as you talk of; unless, indeed, it be the 
 Rose Cottage which is to let a pretty place with 
 lawns reaching to the edge of the water."
 
 80 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " That is the place," cried Clara ; " but yon 
 must be dreaming yourself, Doctor, to talk of its 
 being to let ; it is not ten days since we were 
 there, and the' happiness onr host was seeking 
 could not have flown away so quickly as that/' 
 
 " I speak advisedly/' replied Dr. Cowlcy ; " I 
 am by no means a poetical personage, I leave that 
 to other charming people who can throw dust in 
 the eyes of the most severe : not only is Rose 
 Cottage to let, but to let unfurnished, and nothing 
 but bare walls now remain of all your pageant. 
 Mr. Grimford's friend Hogg, the auctioneer, has 
 the selling of the pictures and furniture; I wonder 
 I doubted it to be the same, but I could scarcely 
 fancy your .invention went so far as to people this 
 retreat with a philosopher, a fairy, a " 
 
 " How provoking you are, Dr. Cowley," said 
 Clara, "all I have told Mrs. Fowler knows to 
 be true ; but it seems, at all events, I have lost 
 my situation ; la petite Dorine is the only phan- 
 tom of the affair, and she concerned me most/' 
 
 " It is rather a mysterious business it must be 
 confessed," said the Doctor, " and I wish I could 
 give you any advice on the subject. As far as 
 regards Mrs. Trumble you will be safe, for I 
 know her family and that she is the person she 
 represents herself to be. Your friends at Twick- 
 enham, I conclude, since they are not illusions,
 
 CLARA FANE. 81 
 
 are adventurers, who are gone to seek amusement 
 elsewhere." 
 
 " If they were adventurers," said Clara, laugh- 
 ing, " they would have run away without paying 
 their debts ; have you any evidence that they have 
 done so?" 
 
 " You are a perfect lawyer, Miss Fane," re- 
 plied Dr. Cowley, " and judge rightly. I confess 
 to have heard nothing of the sort, therefore I 
 suppose one must conclude them to be purely 
 eccentric." 
 
 " It was a strange idea to make us the victims 
 of their eccentricity," observed Mrs. Fowler; 
 "they have caused us to lose our time and now 
 there is little left to decide in." 
 
 " I have already decided," said Clara, " to 
 accept the offer of Mrs. Trumble and go to 
 Derbyshire to instruct the farmer's daughters." 
 
 Dr. Cowley smiled. ' ( I fear/' said he, " that 
 you decide hastily ; with your manners and ac- 
 complishments you ought to meet with something 
 better than that ; but if you think it well to 
 attempt it for a time, my friends to whom I have 
 spoken, may be watching for a superior position, 
 and you can remove to it when it occurs." 
 
 " I am not difficult to please," said Clara, 
 f< and I daresay the air of Derbyshire will suit 
 me very well. I will write to Mrs. Trumble and 
 
 E 3
 
 82 CLARA FANE. 
 
 tell her so at once. Do not look grave my dear 
 Mrs. Fowler and imagine that I am going to be a 
 martyr; although my first dream has been so 
 rudely dispelled perhaps my next may turn out 
 better/' 
 
 It was in consequence of this decision that 
 Clara was engaged to accompany Mrs. Trumble 
 into the country in a few days, and Mrs. Fowler 
 prepared to return to her home and her sister at 
 Llangollen. She sent for Mrs. Spicer to apprise 
 her of her intended departure, who uttered many 
 lamentations on so soon losing them. 
 
 " I'm sure/' said she, " poor Maria will be 
 so sorry, for she's taken such a fancy to your 
 niece niece isn't she, ma'am ? oh, I beg pardon, 
 I thought I heard miss call you aunt everybody 
 knows their own affairs best. It's Maria's birth- 
 day to-morrow, and we give a little feat always on 
 the occasion : I assure you, though I am but a 
 poor widow, and my poor, dear husband had a 
 place under government and caught his death in 
 his functions, I've the most gentee] visitors, quite 
 gentlefolks, and you need not be ashamed if you 
 would do us the honour to step down in the 
 course of the evening. We have just a cake and 
 a lobster for supper, and her godpapa, Mr. Grims- 
 ford I believe, between you and I, but I 
 shouldn't like it to be known, you know, that he
 
 CLARA FANE. 83 
 
 means to leave her something, he's so rich though 
 he's a little near he gives the wine some beau- 
 tiful currant that's sent him from the North. 
 Celia Sawyer's coming, and she's quite genteel 
 and elegant, and our medical students promise to 
 look in. We shall have a little singing, and Mr. 
 Brown will sing his comic songs it's as good as 
 being at the play to hear him. Dr. Cowley is 
 sure to pop in, he always does, so I hope you will 
 condescend to visit us at our little galey" 
 
 It was difficult to escape from this civility, 
 and Mrs. Fowler accordingly accepted for herself 
 and Clara. 
 
 Although neither Mrs. Fowler nor Clara had 
 any inclination to join the "party in the parlour 5 ' 
 they prepared for the descent at the appointed 
 time when they were summoned by Maria herself 
 who, with extreme delight, ushered them into the 
 chamber which was destined to receive their 
 guests. 
 
 The piano-forte, though not quite so grand as 
 that at Rose Cottage, was opened ready for execu- 
 tion : there were flowers, too, in little mugs and 
 glasses, tributes sent to Maria by the beaux of her 
 society. Plates of cakes and decanters of wine 
 were on the sideboard, and the dangling glass lus- 
 tres, which formed the adornments of the chimney- 
 piece, now supported four flaming wax candles.
 
 84 CLARA FANE. 
 
 None of the company had yet arrived; but 
 various knocks and rings announced that they 
 were coming fast, and soon one after another 
 was welcomed by Maria and her mother, con- 
 gratulations and shaking of hands following in 
 due course. 
 
 Young Mr. Simpson, a dapper, conceited 
 youth, in a white waistcoat and the wristbands of 
 his shirt much displayed, entered with a bouquet, 
 which he presented to the fair daughter of Mrs. 
 Spicer with a compliment which he had evidently 
 been studying to deliver in a Parisian style, as he 
 prided himself on understanding what he called 
 the little agreements of society. He then volun- 
 teered to sing some lines Mrs. Spicer had confided 
 to him, and which he had set to music himself. 
 They began 
 
 " Muses ! let's be blythe and gay, 
 "Tis Maria's natal day!" 
 
 and were much applauded, no doubt both on ac- 
 count of the excellence of the verses, the grace of 
 the composition, and the talent of the singer; 
 but the heroine in whose honour they were pro- 
 duced seemed singularly indifferent on the occa- 
 sion, her glances being continually turned towards 
 the door as if she expected some guest more in- 
 teresting to her than the animated, spruce Mr. 
 Simpson.
 
 CLARA FANE. 85 
 
 While he was yet singing, Maria had started 
 up two or three times to admit other guests, many 
 of them young medical students who attended a 
 class in a street near, and . somewhat vociferous 
 and noisy were they on their entrance, till, per- 
 ceiving Mrs. Fowler and Miss Fane, to whom 
 they were rather formally presented in turn by 
 Mrs. Spicer, as if by way of warning, and to 
 repress the too great exhuberance of their spirits, 
 they subsided in whisperings and gigglings and 
 undertoned jocosity amongst each other. 
 
 " Who's that, Maria ?" said one of them, who 
 was a relation of the late Mr. Spicer and conse- 
 quently at home, as he spoke he looked furtively 
 at Clara ; " she's a monstrous fine gal that ! 
 where did you pick her up ? she looks rather in 
 the empress line." 
 
 " Hush ! Charles," said Maria, softly ; " its 
 Miss Fane, quite a lady, our new lodger, just 
 come from France. Oh ! she can sing worth hear- 
 ing indeed, but I'm afraid we must'nt expect her 
 to condescend/' 
 
 " She's too grand by half," replied the student ; 
 " Where's Celia? .she'll be glad to show off to- 
 night, I lay." 
 
 "She's late/' replied Maria; "she says its 
 vulgar to go early to a party, and she is coming 
 in a coach because it looks vulgar to walk."
 
 86 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " Why," laughed Charles, " the affected puss 
 only lives ten doors off." 
 
 " No/' said Maria ; but then every one does 
 not know that, you know, and it sounds genteel 
 to drive up and give a loud knock. I dare say, 
 there she is ! or else its the Pennymans, they'll 
 come in a coach too." 
 
 "What!" cried the indiscreet Charles ; "only 
 from the Work'us over the way, that's capital " 
 
 " Don't mention that horrid place, cousin 
 Charles," exclaimed Maria, quite alarmed. "Mrs. 
 Pennyman calls it the Institution and says they 
 are the directors; the paupers call him Mr. 
 Director Pennyman, because it's more respectful ; 
 he's very rich they say and they never live there 
 its only a kind of town house for them they've 
 got a villa at Hornsey with such a conservatory ! 
 and keep a fine carriage, only they don't like to 
 drive up to the the Institution in it, for fear 
 of being thought proud. There such a beautiful 
 piano and harp at Hornsey." 
 
 "Does old Pennyman play on' em himself as 
 he does on the paupers ?" asked Charles, with a 
 giggle ; but his sarcasm was interrupted by the 
 arrival of the great personages of the evening, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Director Pennyman in person. 
 Maria had not, this time, opened the door, the 
 ' gal ' having been directed to leave her muffin-
 
 CLARA FANE. 87 
 
 toasting and perform that office when their car- 
 riage was heard, Mrs. Spicer justly remarking to 
 Mrs. Fowler, that she knew her daughter's place 
 better than to allow that. 
 
 "The Penny mans," said she, " are so very 
 genteel, and rolls in riches, that young man with 
 the white waistcoat's her nephew ; they say he'll 
 be the heir of all ; he admires Maria, and it would 
 be a fine thing for her but young girls are hard 
 to please. They've such a house at Hornsey with 
 iron gates close to the road and coach house and 
 stabling like lords ! " 
 
 "Are they retired from business, or what's 
 their profession ?" asked Mrs. Fowler, merely in 
 order to say something. 
 
 " Oh, he's a director," replied Mrs. Spicer, 
 bridling. 
 
 " An India director ? really," answered Mrs. 
 Fowler. 
 
 " Not exactly," returned the hostess ; " a great 
 friend to the poor, gives up all his time to them." 
 
 "It does him honour," answered Mrs. Spicer, 
 " and occasions one to feel interest in him, since 
 he is rich he can indulge in his virtuous feelings." 
 
 " He does indulge them," replied Mrs. Spicer, 
 " a good deal. Lor ! she's got her red velvet on I 
 declare. I suppose she's going to some grand 
 party after mine."
 
 88 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Pennyman entered as she spoke 
 in all the dignity of velvet on the lady's part and 
 shining buttons and breast pins on the gentle- 
 man's. They both looked very patronising and 
 were presented in great form to Mrs. Fowler and 
 Clara to whom they condescended to speak affably, 
 not however noticing the rest of the company 
 except by a nod or two to the knot of young 
 surgeons who kept together in a corner near the 
 piano, where Maria had been prevailed upon to 
 seat herself. By her absent air, however, it 
 seemed as if there was still a guest wanting to 
 complete the party, it was true Celia had not yet 
 appeared, but it could scarcely be her she expected 
 so anxiously. Just as she had begun a song a 
 low double knock was heard, the sound of which 
 caused her to start and her voice to tremble too 
 much to go on. She jumped up and ran to the 
 door regardless of her mother's reproving looks, 
 and returned ushering in a pale young man who 
 was hailed with " how are you Wybrow ?" by the 
 students ; another followed, who appeared to be a 
 stranger to all and was presented as a particular 
 friend who had begged to come with him for the 
 half hour he could stay. 
 
 "Only hah an hour, Wybrow," said Maria, 
 a little reproachfully, as Wybrow seated himself 
 close beside her, without noticing any one else ;
 
 CLARA FANE. 89 
 
 " why this is my birthday have you forgot it ? 
 and we have not seen you for a week." 
 
 " Dear Miss Maria," replied the young man, 
 turning kindly towards her; "I am so absent 
 I really had forgotten it and only looked in by 
 chance to-night, though you had, I recollect, kindly 
 invited me. Pray forgive me, I have had so much to 
 do, for I go very soon now." 
 
 " You really are going then ?" said Maria, her 
 gay laugh silenced suddenly ; " and they say its 
 such a horrid place. What the use of going 
 among such savages." 
 
 " Perhaps, but little," replied Wybrow ; " but 
 it's my vocation you know I am born to be a 
 traveller in strange lands and as I came back 
 safe once why should I not be lucky again. 
 You cannot tell the pleasure, Maria, we discoverers 
 have when at a turn of some unknown river, we 
 suddenly come upon a region where new stars 
 burst upon our view, where new flowers and birds 
 and trees are to be found, such as one has only 
 dreamt of before, and one fill one's knapsack 
 with treasures worth a king's ransom, to bring 
 home and study and describe." 
 
 " But then if you catch the fever and die ! " 
 faltered Maria, tears starting to her eyes. 
 
 " Ah ! there's no fear of that, dear Maria," 
 whispered Wybrow, as he stooped down towards
 
 90 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the young girl, and pretending to lift up a piece 
 of music, contrived to touch her hand, " and if I 
 do, you know, there are plenty of other men in 
 the world and I shan't be missed." 
 
 Maria's look was so tender though half- 
 reproachful, that it well explained to him that 
 she could not agree in his expressed opinion of 
 his insignificance. 
 
 " You know," said she in a very low voice, 
 " we at least do not think so." 
 
 "I care for few thoughts beside, Maria.," 
 whispered he, but at this moment a very long rap 
 at the street door, accompanied by the rattle of 
 wheels told that a great arrival might be expected 
 and the voice of Miss Celia Sawyer was presently 
 heard, giving directions that the carriage should 
 return in an hour to take her on to Willis's 
 rooms. She then tripped into the dusky parlour 
 with the air of a prima donna, very showily 
 dressed in full ball costume, and holding a large 
 bouquet in her hand. She was greeted cor- 
 dially by the hostess and her daughter. 
 
 " La ! Celia," said the latter, " what a beau- 
 tiful dress ? where are you going ; it can't be for 
 us you have put on your best things. 
 
 " Bless me, my dear, to be sure not." answered 
 Celia. " I'm going with Mrs. Pennyman to 
 Willis's, and have got such a lot of partners, I
 
 CLARA FANE. 91 
 
 shall dance all the night, I'm sure. How nice 
 you look dear, its a pity we could'nt take you, but 
 its one of the very select nights and only subscri- 
 bers can go, and as for a ticket extra, its quite 
 impossible to get one." 
 
 " Oh !" replied Maria, with a glance at Wy- 
 brow, who was seated in a state of apparent 
 abstraction with his head leaning on the piano. 
 " I don't want to go to-night, I have all rny friends 
 here." 
 
 "Who's that strange man ?" said Celia, hastily 
 as she turned from the stranger friend of Wybrow, 
 who was looking at her rather rudely ; " what a 
 bear ! and how ungentlemanly to come to a party 
 in such a dress, well I never !" 
 
 ^ a He's a friend of Wybrow' s," replied Maria, 
 rather confused. " It is odd, but he did'nt 
 remember it was a sort of party." 
 
 The object of these comments did, it must be 
 confessed, present a somewhat uncouth figure 
 amongst the young men in smart frock coats and 
 dark stocks who had joined the society in Mrs. 
 Spicer's parlour. He was tall, but his figure was 
 so enveloped in a rough white great coat that its 
 symmetry was entirely destroyed ; round his neck 
 he wore a thick shawl comforter which almost 
 concealed the lower part of his face and his dark 
 hair hung so long into his eyes that their expres-
 
 92 CLARA FANE. 
 
 sion or colour could not be ascertained ; he kept 
 his hands in his pockets and stood balancing his 
 feet on the bar of a chair at the back of the 
 company as if rather ashamed of the figure he 
 cut. 
 
 " Oh ! its a friend of Mr. Wybrow's," said 
 Celia, glancing at the latter, who appeared uncon- 
 scious of her presence ; " I don't wonder then 
 he's something strange." 
 
 Wybrow looked up. " Miss Celia," said he ; 
 I did not see you before, I confess my friend Mr. 
 Jones's costume calls for apology to the ladies, we 
 are just come up from the country and he had'nt 
 time to change his coat." 
 
 " He might have combed his hair, I think/' 
 said Celia disdainfully. 
 
 Mrs. Spicer, meantime, had been glancing 
 rather angrily the same way several times, and 
 Wybrow rose, and taking a chair near her, said 
 rather nervously 
 
 " Will you forgive me for bringing my friend 
 Jones," said he, "he's an excellent fellow but 
 very eccentric ; I thought you would be alone or 
 he should not have come in his travelling dress 
 amongst such smart ladies. How pretty Maria 
 looks to-night ; I hope she's going to sing." 
 
 Maria overhearing this expressed wish, and 
 desiring to distract her mother's attention from
 
 CLARA FANE. 93 
 
 the obnoxious coat and hair, whose apparition 
 might be inimical to Wybrow, allowed herself to 
 be persuaded, and sang so sweetly as to restore 
 harmony at once to all parties. 
 
 T,he birthday ode was then repeated by a 
 chorus, accompanied by Mr. Simpson, after which 
 a whist party was made up for the Penuymans, 
 whose bland condescension was quite charming to 
 behold, Mrs. Fowler made one of the party, and 
 Clara, not sorry to be occupied, became the 
 partner of Mrs. Pennyman, who exhibited such a 
 quantity of diamond rings in cutting and dealing 
 as positively to eclipse the candles on the green 
 tables. 
 
 There was a great deal of talking in the room, 
 and Celia, strangely enough, found herself again 
 close to the disagreeable stranger, who seemed 
 determined to talk to her ; although, at first, very 
 disdainful, she by degrees seemed to take an 
 interest in what he said to judge by the blushing 
 and giggling that ensued. 
 
 "Well; I shouldn't have thought," said she, 
 that you knew one tune from another to look at 
 you, and yet you talk as if you understood music. 
 Yes, Maria sings pretty well, poor thing she 
 wants polish, but that is only to be got in the 
 world, and she so seldom goes out." 
 
 " You do, I'm sure," said the stranger, " and
 
 94 CLARA FANE. 
 
 profit by it. Very few girls are so fashionable 
 looking as you are who's that playing at whist 
 at that table?" 
 
 "Oh that's the lodger upstairs," said Celia, 
 tossing her head ; "people I know nothing of; 
 they're not in my set, I assure you." 
 
 " So I thought," said the stranger. 
 
 At this moment the rubber was finished, and 
 Clara rose from the table, with a secret and 
 treacherous thought springing in her mind of 
 escaping, if possible, to her room, for she imagined 
 her evasion would be unnoticed as the hilarity of 
 the party increased. The ill-dressed stranger 
 still stood balancing his feet on a chair and look- 
 ing down at Celia, who had now entered into a 
 flirtation with one of the students. As Clara 
 passed him, and was just about to place her hand 
 on the handle of the door, Mrs. Spicer perceived 
 her object and called out 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Fane, could we only persuade you 
 to indulge us with one song just one it would 
 be so kind, and I have been telling Mrs. 
 Pennyman how beautifully you sing. I hope you 
 will oblige us do pray now." 
 
 Clara paused, detected in her meditated trea- 
 chery, and beheld that not only was escape impos- 
 sible, but compliance requisite, and she thought it 
 better to submit with the best grace possible.
 
 CLARA FANE. 95 
 
 " Will you give Mrs. Pennyman that chair, 
 sir/' said Mrs. Spicer, seizing that on which the 
 rough young man was leaning ; he started, and 
 the sudden exclamation of " Good God ! impossi- 
 ble!" confirmed Mrs. Spicer' s opinion that he 
 was not quite in a proper state to be amongst her 
 guests. 
 
 " It's like people's impudence," muttered she 
 to Maria, as she dragged the chair away; "coming 
 without being asked, and standing looking like 
 some bailiff in one's room. I wonder Wybrow 
 should" 
 
 But Clara had already touched the instrument, 
 which, bad as it was, under her hand sent forth 
 tones which arrested all ears and silenced all 
 tongues, except Miss Celia's, who whispered to 
 the rough young man 
 
 " Professional, of course ! " 
 
 After a prelude, executed with consummate 
 skill and taste, improvised at the moment, Clara 
 accompanied herself in a simple air, such as she 
 thought might give general pleasure to the 
 company, and her success was complete, for it 
 touched all hearts and filled all minds with 
 delight. One exclamation reached her ear 
 amongst the many which greeted her at the 
 end of her song, which struck her the more 
 as being uttered in a tone which scarcely seemed
 
 96 CLARA FANE. 
 
 to belong to the class of persons who composed 
 her auditory, 
 
 ' That voice should breathe for one alone ! ' " 
 
 She did not see the speaker, and on turning 
 round she could not attribute the words to any 
 one of the guests who had crowded round her ; 
 their faces were all turned her way, and although 
 plenty of admiration was expressed there was none 
 but that of Wybrow, who was talking to Maria, 
 in which an expression of sentiment could be 
 expected. 
 
 " That bear in the white coat's gone," said 
 Mrs. Spicer, as she arranged the table for supper 
 in Mr. Grimford's parlour, which he had graciously 
 given up for the occasion, having intimated his 
 intention only at the eleventh hour, so that she 
 hastened to take advantage of the permission at 
 once for fear he should relent ; " of course he's 
 no soul for music or poetry neither there's one 
 less for supper. I'll tell my mind to Wybrow 
 about it before he leaves." 
 
 But when she returned to the next room she 
 found that Wybrow had also disappeared, and that 
 Miss Fane and Mrs. Fowler had at length effected 
 their escape upstairs, where Maria having followed 
 them and been pacified at the desertion, they 
 were permitted to remain, while the gay supper 
 went on without them, more lively from the
 
 CLARA FANE. 97 
 
 pressure- of strangers, of evidently superior order, 
 being removed. 
 
 Wybrow did not return as Maria had hoped, 
 but she received so many compliments and was so 
 much congratulated, her health and her eighteen 
 summers were drunk with so much heartiness that 
 it seemed surprising she was not consoled for his 
 absence, the more so that she held in her bosom, 
 where she had hastily placed it, a little locket, 
 containing his hair, which she had exchanged for 
 a ring enclosing some of her own, while the song 
 of Clara had withdrawn all eyes from them both. 
 After supper, Mr. Simpson, the nephew of Mrs. 
 Pennyman, who had been extremely assiduous in 
 his attentions to Maria all the evening after the 
 disappearance of Wybrow, was called upon for a 
 comic song, in which he was thought to excel, and 
 requiring but little solicitation, he forthwith 
 perpetrated one of those vulgarities which have 
 no parallel in any country but our own, and are 
 equally unfit for ears polite, whether sung to 
 admiring aristocracy who crowd round the piano- 
 forte of a received favourite at fashionable dejeu- 
 nes and soirees, and listen to senseless words set 
 to execrable music, or whether men painted black 
 and using the lowest gestures, squeak and gibber 
 to rattled bones and "scrannel pipes" in gilded 
 drawing-rooms, where all of grace and refinement 
 
 VOL. I. f
 
 98 CLARA FANE. 
 
 that London can pour forth stands on tiptoe to 
 catch the miserable trash that falls from lips 
 whose slang ought never to degrade such ears by 
 its contact. 
 
 Mr. Simpson's effort, however, was applauded 
 as rapturously as such performances always are in 
 English society of all grades, for he was looked 
 upon as quite inimitable in his line; his spirits 
 rose with his success, and the currant wine 
 contributed by godpapa Grimford, emboldened 
 him to exhibit other proofs of his talent. He 
 performed several conjuring tricks with cards, 
 told a variety of smart charades, and his puns 
 were so piquant that the whole table was in a roar 
 of laughter. 
 
 He proposed forfeits, and was unanimously 
 supported, and the opportunity these petit s jeux 
 gave him was not neglected, for he took occasion 
 to tell Maria she was, in his eyes, the prettiest 
 girl between Oxford Street and Piccadilly, let the 
 other be who she would. 
 
 This remark was heard by Celia, who felt for 
 his opinion the contempt it merited, and who 
 revenged herself by quizzing his little, insignifi- 
 cant figure, and large round head to cousin 
 Charles, who laughed immoderately, and joined 
 thoroughly in ridiculing the conceited prig who 
 had eclipsed his jokes and songs, usually thought
 
 CLARA FANE. 99 
 
 excellent when not exposed to comparison with an 
 acknowledged genius. 
 
 After the last guest had departed and the 
 mother and daughter were alone, Mrs. Spicer 
 addressed Maria rather seriously and advised her 
 to give in future less encouragement to young 
 Wybrow, who, she was sure, hadn't a penny, and 
 was never like to have, and to turn her thoughts 
 to the nephew of Mrs. Pennyman whose expecta- 
 tions were really good, and who, it must be con- 
 fessed, she said, was a nice young man. 
 
 " La, ma ! how can you say so ?" exclaimed 
 Maria ; " with such a great head and little spin- 
 dles of legs! well I never! whatever poor 
 Wybrow may be I'd rather have him without a 
 pound or a penny than that horrid Simpson 
 rolling in riches ! " 
 
 " He'll have all his aunt leaves, at all events," 
 said Mrs. Spicer, "and it is worth looking after. 
 I'm sure girls are such fools I need'nt talk, for 
 I married your poor dear father with nothing, and 
 had to work all my life when I might have mar- 
 ried over and over again two or three rich young 
 chaps who were dying for me ; and I was much 
 handsomer than you, though not so fair; but 
 some men like dark beauties I know Grimford 
 does he said so to-night when he was a little 
 elevated. I'm sure one should make up one's 
 
 F 2
 
 100 CLARA FANE. 
 
 mind to something, for it's poor work letting 
 lodgings, and being at the beck and call of every- 
 body's whimsies. How lucky Frewen did not 
 come home ! I trembled every minute to hear his 
 knock ; we should never have heard the last of it, 
 and he'd have thrown this party in my teeth 
 every time he paid me his month an old tyrant ! 
 I'm sorry the second-floor is going. That's a nice 
 girl, that Miss Fane, and very affable; and so's 
 Mrs. Fowler, though a little stiff. I wish I could 
 ferret out their history." 
 
 "La, ma!" said Maria, "I daresay there's 
 nothing to find out at all. Miss Fane is so good- 
 natured I quite love her; she takes such pains 
 with my singing, and says she will teach me all 
 the time she's here. I am so sorry they won't 
 stay long ; but she'll always come back to us, she 
 says, if she cnly comes for two or three days to 
 Town." 
 
 " So as they pay I shall always be glad to see 
 them I'm sure," said the mother ; " but one never 
 knows people by their looks. There's that Cap- 
 tain Power, that we made so much of in the first- 
 floor while Frewen was at Cheltenham, didn't he 
 seem quite a gentleman ? yet he went away in my 
 debt, and in debt to all the tradespeople round, 
 after his nasty monkey had set the chimney a- fire 
 and cut off the ball-cock of the water-butt."
 
 CLARA FANE. 101 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Man derives more enjoyment from the exertion of his 
 active powers in the midst of toils and efforts than he could 
 receive from a still and uniform possession of the object which 
 lie hopes to gain." 
 
 Blair. 
 
 WHILE Mrs. Spicer and Maria were thus talking 
 over the events of their party, young Wybrow and 
 his friend in the rough coat were also conversing 
 together, but the latter had thrown off the habili- 
 ment which had given so much displeasure, and 
 now appeared in his dressing gown, with his throat 
 divested of its wraps, and in his present guise he 
 presented a graceful distinguished figure and a 
 handsome and intellectual face. 
 
 They were seated in chambers in the Albany 
 on easy ohairs with carved ebony backs and crim- 
 son velvet cushions ; a large fire threw its cheerful 
 blaze upon their feet, and a library lamp, carefully 
 shaded, cast its light on a table strewn with books 
 and pamphlets, maps and papers.
 
 102 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said the gentleman in the 
 dressing-gown, " I am heartily sorry that you go 
 so soon, much as I cannot help envying you the 
 adventurous life you have chosen. The field is 
 wide and fortune may dwell in the Desert as well 
 as in a walled city ; if it hadn't been for 
 
 ' Circumstance, that unspiritual God,' 
 
 I would have been your companion in this expedi- 
 tion of discovery, which I feel sure will be so full 
 of profit and knowledge. The Sources of the 
 Nile ! what a mystery to clear up. Tour's is a 
 glorious mind, Wybrow : you can treat as they 
 deserve the mere creature comforts of the world, 
 enjoy them while they last, and spurn them for a 
 life of adventure and hardship. This was your 
 character at Oxford, and you have proved that 
 
 ' The boy is father to the man/ 
 
 while I am, as I was then, a mere careless useless 
 cypher, doing no good in my vocation and dream- 
 ing away existence in the pursuit of chimeras." 
 
 " My dear Loftus," replied Wybrow, turning, 
 with animation, his bright eyes upon his friend, 
 "how unjust you are to yourself! and to me too 
 for if you pursue only worthless objects, what 
 am I to consider myself whom you have so laden 
 with benefits, so overwhelmed with friendship, that
 
 CLARA FANE. 103 
 
 I am a beggar even in thanks. Without you 
 should I have been able to join this expedition ? 
 have you not furnished my whole outfit, my 
 instruments and luxuries ? and oh ! have you not 
 besides made me happy in this generous allow- 
 ance to my dear mother, which will secure her 
 comfort and independence during my absence. 
 She will now cheerfully bear my leaving her, and 
 cheerfully look forward to my return, knowing 
 that your friendly care and incomparable gene- 
 rosity have provided me with all that could aid 
 and make my labours light. Do not, dear Loftus, 
 talk of being a cypher when you have made a 
 whole family blest." 
 
 Loftus sighed as he took his friend's hand 
 and pressed it affectionately. " What I have had 
 the happiness of doing for you/' said he, " is but 
 another link in the selfish chain of the nature 
 that binds me. If I were born a miser or a 
 wretch without a heart I should have merit in 
 such an act ; but the joy, the rapturous delight, 
 it yields me to see what pleasure so mere a trifle 
 gives you, how much uneasiness it relieves you 
 from, how much trouble and anxiety it spares 
 you ; this makes me so ineffably happy, for the 
 time, that I can only reproach you for giving me 
 any credit for it : 
 
 ' Why tliis is not a boon,
 
 104 CLARA FANE. 
 
 'Tis as I should entreat yoa wear your gloves, 
 Or feed on delicate dishes, or keep you warm, 
 Or sue to you to do a peculiar benefit 
 To your own person.' 
 
 Let us talk no more of it : only this your mother 
 is safe in my care; she will remain at my old 
 place in Derbyshire. and I shall see her whenever 
 I run down there, which I think of doing soon 
 after you leave. It is a great relief to me to 
 know that she is there to look after the old 
 tapestry and crazy furniture, for which I have a 
 foolish weakness, and, as it suits her taste to do 
 so, we are you see quite agreed. I should be 
 miserable if only servants were there to neglect 
 the strange old rooms and leave them entirely to 
 the ghosts and rats. You will take, of course, 
 every opportunity of sending me news of your- 
 self for her sake, and may depend on my for- 
 warding her letters, even if I am so lazy as to fail 
 in writing myself. Is there any other commission 
 you wish to give me I will be faithful ?" 
 
 Wybrow's pale face became suddenly suffused 
 with crimson, probably because he was stooping 
 over a map of Africa and tracing his intended 
 route too eagerly. He did not reply at first to 
 this last interrogatory, which was delivered in a 
 tone which implied that 
 
 " More was meant than meets the ear."
 
 CLARA FANE. 105 
 
 At last he faltered " Why, Loft us, it will seem 
 childish and weak I know, but " 
 
 " I know what you are going to say/' inter- 
 rupted his friend, "and you do me injustice. I 
 do not look upon this matter in your case as 
 childish or weak, because you do not partake my 
 sentiments, or prejudices, if you will, respecting 
 women. I have seen to-night that you love that 
 little good-natured-looking Maria, and you feel 
 uneasy at leaving her you will not be sorry that 
 I should serve you in that quarter?" 
 
 " You have guessed what I had not courage 
 to tell you/' said Wybrow, much relieved, " yet I 
 am aware what I have done is weak, and, by no 
 means prudent. Maria has not a sous any more 
 than myself is the child of a worldly mother, 
 who will think her wrong in yielding to the 
 dictates of mere affection she is very young and 
 inexperienced, uneducated and simple but inno- 
 cent and pure as Heaven itself. I confess she 
 is very dear to me, and our attachment has lasted 
 already two years. She is content to wait for 
 prosperous times, and if fortune smiles on me we 
 may yet be happy in each other." 
 
 ''Charming romance!" exclaimed Loftus : 
 "perhaps to be realized for you: but are you 
 sure that happiness awaits you in a union with 
 one whose mind is not sufficiently expanded to 
 
 F a
 
 106 CLARA FANE. 
 
 reply to yours, to understand your aspirations, to 
 share your glory fitly, to do honour to you, to 
 exalt, to guide, to help you? Maria seems a 
 pretty amiable child, without mind or capacity, 
 and you are superior to the greatest part of your 
 kind : you have a mind, Wybrow, to move 
 worlds, and one which must not be tied down to 
 commonplace existence." 
 
 "Ah, my dear friend/' replied the young man, 
 " you overrate me and scarcely do her justice. 
 Maria is all sensibility, her feelings are above her 
 sordid state, though it is true that she is neither 
 superior in mind or manners to those amongst 
 whom her lot is cast. But she is all love and tender- 
 ness, gentleness and rectitude of thought ; is just 
 what a wife should be, and to me is all in all." 
 
 " I wish I could be in love like you, Wybrow," 
 answered his friend ; " what a source of joy you 
 open out to me ! I have, as you know, for you 
 have reproved me for it, sought in low life, as well 
 as high, in all societies, good and bad, for a being 
 on whom I could bestow the mighty affection 
 within my soul ; but I have failed to find such a 
 creature, I have seen woman only artful, artificial, 
 cold, or may be, too warm : I recognise nowhere 
 the ideal you behold in your Maria. Alas ! 
 
 ' Man delights not me nor women either !' 
 I wish I could deceive myself into a belief that
 
 CLARA FANE. 107 
 
 such gentle purity, such tender devotion, such per- 
 fect simplicity, exists as you describe and trust in 
 but all seems to me vanity and vexation of spirit/' 
 
 "You judge unfairly, Loftus," answered Wy- 
 brow; fr you present yourself in your character of 
 a man of fortune and fashion, rich and distin- 
 guished and holding a high rank in society, and 
 you are surprised that you are sought for these 
 advantages. If you were poor and humble like me, 
 with nothing to offer, you would be sure to 
 meet the being you seek for it is more difficult 
 in your position than in mine to satisfy the heart 
 I never sought but found at once the other half 
 of myself which you go restlessly seeking for, and 
 perhaps have rejected already more than once." 
 
 "Who was that girl who sang so well to- 
 night/' asked Loftus suddenly, after a pause of 
 musing into which both friends had fallen ; " it 
 was strange that going in such a wild way with 
 you I should meet that girl." 
 
 " She is I believe a lodger in the house," 
 replied Wybrow; "Maria told me something in 
 her favour she is very good to her, but I scarcely 
 attended to her prattle for I was thinking of 
 herself. I recollect however that she said she and 
 her guardian, another lady there who played at 
 cards, were recommended by Dr. Cowley and 
 carne from abroad."
 
 108 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " She's very handsome," said Loftus, ad- 
 stractedly. 
 
 " She's short, is'nt she with blue eyes ?" 
 asked Wybrow, in an absent tone. 
 
 " Good God ! no !" cried the friend ; " where 
 are your eyes, her's are as black as diamonds and 
 her hair lustrous as moonlight. She looked 
 strangely out of place there." 
 
 " I confess 1 did not remark her much," said 
 Wybrow, laughing ; " and you will think me the 
 more insensible when I acknowledge that I was 
 whispering to Maria all the time she sang behind 
 the curtain which concealed us from the rest, and 
 I was scarcely conscious of a note she uttered. 
 So selfish are we in our own enjoyments. TV'ho 
 knows she may prove your being after all." 
 
 "Folly!" exclaimed Loftus; " the very height 
 of it ! Let us both go to bed, my dear fellow and 
 dream away all this romance and be ready for 
 your early start to-morrow. I wish I was about 
 to accompany you further than the coast at all 
 events I shall stand on the shore and mark your 
 lessening vessel and " see your barge y- sailing in 
 the sea," wishing myself with you en route for 
 
 ' Africa aud golden joys ! ' " 
 The evening before Clara's intended depar-
 
 CLARA FANE. 109 
 
 ture for the country with Mrs. Trumble, she was 
 busying herself in her room in the absence of 
 Mrs. Fowler, who was gone out to make necessary 
 purchases, when Maria entered to bring a letter 
 which had come by post ; she held another in her 
 hand and as she gave that destined for Mrs. Fow- 
 ler to Clara she observed that she trembled and 
 seemed agitated looking quickly at her, Clara 
 found that the pbor girl was pale and her eyes 
 were swimming in tears. 
 
 " Dear Miss Spicer," said she, kindly ; " is 
 anything the matter, you look ill speak, can I 
 not do something for you ?" 
 
 Maria was just in that state so well described 
 by Crabbe, the interpreter of nature 
 
 "When so full the cup of sorrow grows, 
 Add but a drop it instantly overflows." 
 
 and the word of consolation offered by Clara 
 succeeded in at once making the cup run o'er. 
 Maria sunk down on a chair with a deep sigh and 
 became so pale that Clara was flying to the top of 
 the stairs for help when she made a faint sign for 
 her to come back and shut the door. 
 
 " I shall soon be better," said she ; " but I 
 was quite overcome for the moment to think he 
 was really gone you don't know about it, 
 Miss Fane, but I'm engaged to poor \Vybrow, and
 
 110 CLARA FANE. 
 
 this is a letter he wrote the last thing to take leave 
 of me, and and " 
 
 She now gave way to her tears, and as Clara 
 leaned over her and laid her head on her bosom, 
 she contemplated with extreme interest her soft 
 features and innocent face to which her sorrow 
 gave a more than usually infantine expression. 
 
 " Be consoled," said she ; " is he gone for 
 long or will he soon return? where is he going 
 and why are you so unhappy if you are engaged 
 to him ?" 
 
 " Oh ! dear," said Maria, recovering herself 
 a little; "it is because Ma does' nt like me to 
 have him, on account of his having no money, and 
 he's gone with the exploring expedition to the 
 Nile, and perhaps will nevernever come back 
 again/' 
 
 Her tears here flowed afresh and she threw 
 herself into Clara's arms in an agony of grief. 
 
 "But it is a very grand expedition," said 
 Clara ; " and only clever and enterprising men 
 undertake such. Your friend is no doubt a man 
 of genius and will come back successful, having 
 gained honours and advantages ; and then your 
 Mamma will not object, and you will marry and 
 be happy." 
 
 "Do you think so," said Maria, smiling 
 faintly through her tears; "he said so himself
 
 CLARA FANE. Ill 
 
 and perhaps it really will turn out so, for Heaven 
 will watch over and guard him, he is s j good. I 
 am so glad I have told you Miss Fane, for now I 
 shall have some one to pity me but yet you are 
 going away too, and then I can speak to nobody 
 for Celia is jealous because he does not like 
 her, and she does all she can to tease me and 
 makes me worse so I do'nt mean to tell her 
 we're engaged." 
 
 "You can write to me, Maria, you know," 
 said Clara ; " and then you can tell me as well as 
 if I was here." 
 
 " May I though ?" answered the young girl 
 cheerfully; "that will be nice. But I am so ignorant 
 and you are so clever ; you will be ashamed of 
 my letters ; I wish I could write well for then I 
 could say better all I wish to Wybrow." 
 
 " Well, write to me and that will put you into 
 the habit of expressing yourself," replied Clara; 
 " you will improve and your friend will be delighted 
 to see how you get on." 
 
 " Oh ! that will be a pleasure," exclaimed 
 Maria. " I am to send my letters to Mr. Loftus's 
 and he will forward them, and I am to hear from 
 Wybrow as often as possible ; he does not think 
 he need be away more than two years and that 
 will soon be gone. It is such a comfort having 
 told you !"
 
 112 CLARA FANE. 
 
 "Who is Mr. Loftus," asked Clara, willing 
 to turn her thoughts from her sorrows. 
 
 " Oh ! he's the gentleman who is his great 
 friend, you know; they were together at Oxford. 
 Wybrow was a sizar and Mr. Loftus a gentleman 
 commoner; but they were always the dearest 
 friends. Wybrow's father, who is dead long ago, 
 was a clergyman, so he's quite a gentleman, and 
 Mr. Loftus did'nt mind his being poor, because 
 he himself is very rich indeed and so generous ! 
 He has paid all ray William's expenses out and 
 done a great deal for his mother and given him 
 such presents you can't think, only he does not 
 like it to be talked of, and William only tells me ; 
 but you won't mention it I'm sure for Mr. Loftus 
 might not like it you know.'' 
 
 " Oh ! I will never speak of it," said Clara, 
 smiling ; " and as I shall probably never see Mr. 
 Loftus, or anyone connected with him, there is 
 the less fear of my being imprudent. I am very 
 glad to hear he is so good a friend ; what a happy 
 man he must be to have it in his power." 
 
 At this juncture the voice of Mrs. Spicer was 
 heard calling her daughter, who hastily concealed 
 her precious letter, dried her eyes and ran down 
 stairs to answer the demands, while Clara, inter- 
 ested in her simple love story, felt happy in the 
 though that she had been able to impart some
 
 CLARA FANE. 113 
 
 comfort to her mind, although in reality, she 
 knew nothing of the subject ; what we desire 
 much however we so readily believe that it re- 
 quired little to restore hope in the breast of the 
 poor girl who was glad to catch at it anywhere.
 
 114 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Aux champs, grace aux deux ! 
 Les sottices du temps ne blessent point mes yeux." 
 
 Moliere. 
 
 MRS. TRUMBLE'S house was situated in one of 
 those charming positions so common in Derbyshire 
 the Franconian Switzerland of England; not 
 far from Bake well. A view of Haddon Hall and 
 its- numerous towers could be caught from the 
 meadows near, and a line of rich wooded hills 
 formed a background to the luxuriant expanse of 
 dale and field, through which the beautifully 
 winding Derwent, which passed through Chats- 
 worth Park, at the foot of the commencing 
 moors, travelled its silver road. 
 
 Vernon. House had formerly been a mansion 
 of consequence, and though much altered in the 
 course of time, owing to the variety of its desti- 
 nations, it still preserved many of its antique
 
 CLARA FANE. 115 
 
 features. The entrance-hall was spacious and 
 commodious, with a pleasant recess window and a 
 large fire-place with an ancient carved marble 
 chimney-piece ; several chambers opened from it, 
 and several doors concealed passages and stair- 
 cases, leading to other parts of the house, which 
 consisted of many rooms, some looking towards 
 the high road, which was not very distant, and 
 some towards a long and very fine garden and a 
 paddock beyond. 
 
 There was a large court at the back, round 
 which, on three sides, the house with its two wings 
 extended, and a low parapet wall on the fourth 
 side divided it from the garden, which was reached 
 by a broad flight of steps. This parapet was 
 ornamented at the top by carved stonework, over 
 which climbing plants had been allowed to grow 
 in profusion, and thus rendered picturesque what 
 had originally been formal. 
 
 Miss Philippa Giles, the active partner of 
 Mrs. Trumble, was a botanist and delighted in 
 her garden, which was therefore kept in very good 
 order ; her knowledge of plants greatly enhanced 
 her reputation in the neighbourhood, and the 
 attention she bestowed on the study of the 
 heavenly bodies went far to confirm the country 
 gentry round that her acquirements were of an 
 order as superior to that of any of the natives as
 
 
 116 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the stars she understood were distant from the 
 flowers they shone upon. 
 
 " My darter is under Miss Giles," was an 
 announcement that imparted great dignity to the 
 speaker, and the young lady who had had that 
 advantage was looked upon as a being of no 
 common order. 
 
 When Clara arrived at Vernon House her fame 
 had already announced her as a lady from France 
 who could teach music and "the French" in a 
 manner that would, to say the least, astonish the 
 parents of the fortunate pupils destined to be 
 placed under her care. Miss Philippa Giles 
 received her with much courtesy, and welcomed 
 Mrs. Trumble and two new boarders, little girls 
 of very juvenile appearance, who had accompanied 
 the newly arrived visitors from London. 
 
 Miss Giles was extremely tall, much above the 
 ordinary height of her sex; like " the virtuous 
 Marcia," she "towered above it;" she was also 
 strongly built, had sharp black eyes, a rosy coun- 
 tenance, broad flat features, and a great deal of 
 rather rusty black hair, which her ambition was 
 to train into graceful tendrils round her face, 
 although the manner in which it persisted in 
 hanging reminded the beholder more of the 
 shaggy head of a rough poodle. She looked very 
 good-humoured, and was frank and obliging in
 
 ."lx^ 
 
 CLARA FANE. 117 
 
 her manner, and Clara felt more cheerful and 
 content on her arrival than she could have hoped 
 to be on quitting her beloved friend, Mrs. Fowler, 
 to part with whom had cost her many irrepressible 
 tears, which were indulged in e.ven more freely by 
 that affectionate and excellent woman. 
 
 The rapidity of the railroad, which in less than 
 seven hours brought them to Chesterfield, and the 
 jolting of the hired carriage which conveyed them 
 from thence, had succeeded in distracting her 
 attention from her regrets : she was besides young 
 and full of hope, and resolute to fulfil a duty, and 
 she had determined in her mind not to give way 
 to feelings which, indulged, might interfere with 
 the line of conduct she had laid down for herself. 
 
 Alas ! it is only while youth lasts that the 
 long struggles of a life of pain, disappointment, 
 and bereavement, common to all, can be cheerfully 
 borne, in later years the forces of the strongest 
 mind give way, the spirit sinks, and all is twi- 
 light, till the grave closes the scene in night. 
 
 But Clara's life, although a sad one in the 
 circumstance of being an orphan protected by 
 strangers, had been in those of its events expe- 
 rienced by herself, only one of tranquil content ; 
 she had been brought up from infancy by Mrs. 
 Fowler and her sister, treated like their own child, 
 educated with care, and supplied with advantages
 
 118 CLARA FANE. 
 
 which her remarkable talents had enabled her to 
 turn to the best advantage; these had placed her 
 in a position to gain an independence which in the 
 event of the death of her generous friends, they 
 well knew they could not leave her. 
 
 " Well, my dear Miss Philippa," said Mrs. 
 Tramble, as she sat after supper in the cosy little 
 parlour by a good fire, while Clara was placed in 
 a comfortable chair near, and the partner looked 
 on with a contented smile, " well, how have you 
 got on while Fve been away ? Any trouble with 
 any of the gals or the parents ?" 
 
 " No," returned the partner, " all has flowed 
 smoothly; Emily Parker's ague is gone off 
 and Jane Sumpter's cough is better ; Farmer 
 Dean says his daughter is to learn the harp this 
 quarter and Farmer Stigman thinks we ought to 
 teach his daughter drawing ; Miss Dean came 
 back to-day in the butter cart and brought a harp 
 with her which they sent for from Derby, so we 
 bid fair to be very accomplished this half-year 
 with the help of this young lady, who I hope will 
 find us a pleasant party on the whole." 
 
 " No doubt of it, Miss Philippa," said Mrs. 
 Trumble, winking to her partner and giving a 
 peculiar twist to her flexible nose ; "and now, if 
 Miss Fane pleases, as I daresay she is tired, Char- 
 lotte shall show her to her room. We shall not
 
 CLARA FANE. 119 
 
 begin business to-morrow for good, so there will 
 be time to explain all in the course of the day. 
 Good night, my dear," she added with a nod, as 
 Clara prepared to obey and followed the young 
 half-boarder indicated to the chamber prepared for 
 her, which adjoined a very large one, filled with 
 little white beds, most of them tenanted by young 
 sleepers, some of whose bright little eyes might 
 be seen peeping forth as the new teacher passed 
 their dormitories. 
 
 "Can I do anything for you, mum," asked 
 Charlotte, as she set down the tallow candle she 
 bore on a box, and began to busy herself in 
 arranging Clara's things with an inquisitive air. 
 
 " No, thank you," replied Clara ; " I am used 
 to wait on myself, and am sure I shall find all 
 comfortable." 
 
 " That's lucky," said Charlotte, " for we never 
 do, particularly when old ma'rm Trumble comes 
 back. Miss Pbilippa's easy managed, but we shall 
 be on short commons again now old skinflint's 
 here." 
 
 " How many young ladies are there ?" asked 
 Clara, rather startled at the unwelcome confidence 
 reposed in her. 
 
 " Oh, we've four and twenty gals," was the 
 reply, " and ten day-boarders ; they comes from 
 the villages round about, and they brings all their
 
 120 CLARA FANE. 
 
 pockets full of cakes and apples ; so they're well 
 enough off." 
 
 "Are you not then rufficiently fed?" asked 
 Clara. 
 
 " Oh, old ma'am Trumble thinks she gives 
 us enough for our health, she says, but there's 
 two half-boarders, and they gets the worst off. 
 I'm one, and she knocks and beats me about 
 because of her own niece Kitty, that's always 
 stealing and telling lies, and laying it on me ; but 
 Til be even with her." 
 
 " Is Miss Kitty here now, then ?" said Clara. 
 
 " Yes, she's in the bed at the upper end ; mind 
 you don't say much you don't want repeated when 
 she's near/' returned the discontented young 
 damsel ; " she's always listening and curries 
 everything to her aunt. Miss Philippa hates her 
 and so do we all so, that's one comfort." 
 
 " You like Miss Philippa, then?" asked Clara. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; she's good enough if she's let 
 alone, and as long as she can curl her hair and 
 gets a bow from young Curtis, as he passes by on 
 horseback when we're out walking. She's ten 
 years older than he is, out then she's got money, 
 and so he let's her be in love with him : she could 
 put him in her poeket for his size." 
 
 Clara felt no inch' nation to hear any more of 
 the secrets of the family, and accordingly as soon
 
 CLARA FANE. 121 
 
 as she could, dismissed her talkative acquaintance, 
 whose manners gave her but a poor opinion of the 
 style of the establishment. 
 
 " Where," thought she to herself; " is the 
 rustic simplicity and confiding innocence one 
 hears so much of as existing in the country and 
 abiding in the bosom of youth ? I have scarcely 
 been an hour in this house and I hear of proud 
 pretension, malace, bitterness and the desire of 
 revenge, of vanity and calumny and a variety of 
 evil feelings. If my task is to reform these it 
 will be no light one. This is one of the contrasts 
 1 suppose I must expect in the course of my life. 
 What a difference between this coarse incommo- 
 dious room and my pretty little boudoir at Passy 
 where all, though simple, was so elegant ; and how 
 unlike the luxury of Rose Cottage ! but perhaps 
 happiness is as near me here as I should have 
 found it under that strange roof with strange 
 people whose very names are a mystery to me. 
 Who could he be, that daring stranger, who said 
 in a few moments, more than the -most encouraged 
 lover would dare to do after years of servitude, 
 according to the ancient mode in these railroad 
 times all events occur somewhat too quickly me- 
 thinks, like our hopes, 
 
 ' as quickly they pass but they never return.' 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Of course I shall never see or hear of any one 
 connected with that baseless fabric of a vision 
 again." 
 
 She said this with something like regret, and 
 her thoughts were accompanied with an involun- 
 tary sigh which she coughed away. 
 
 " At all events," said she, opening her window 
 and looking out upon the garden and court imme- 
 diately beneath, which was illumined by a bright 
 moonlight ; " at all events, nothing can destroy or 
 disturb the glories of nature from the cabin or 
 the palace. Heaven shines on all alike and cheers 
 and consoles us for the faults and failings of man. 
 I shall be at least free in this little nook to think, 
 to write and to feel, and what is fine furniture 
 and a gilded chamber where liberty is not ? I 
 dare say I shall be very happy here." 
 
 With this reflection, in spite of a few tears, 
 after looking out for a short time into the fresh 
 clear space and calming her mind with the pious 
 and gentle thoughts that were habitual to her, 
 Clara at length became composed and retired to 
 her first night's rest in Vernon House. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Trumble and Miss Philippa 
 Giles conversed below stairs. 
 
 " I consider Miss Fane a very elegant looking 
 girl," said Miss Philippa; "quite superior, with 
 such a Parisian air ! She will make a good figure
 
 CLARA FANE. 123 
 
 at church, and I should'nt wonder if the look of 
 her only got us some new pupils. Being abroad 
 is such an advantage. If ever I change my 
 state my first object will be to take a trip abroad, 
 it improves the mind so much." 
 
 Mrs. Trumble frowned and her nose became 
 slightly convulsed, for any allusion to a change of 
 state on the part of Miss Giles always conjured 
 up in her mind visions of dissolution of partner- 
 ship which accorded but little with her financial 
 views, for in their present position she was suffi- 
 ciently well off and could enjoy a variety of good 
 things which thrown on her own resources she 
 would find it difficult to indulge in. She therefore 
 never heard with perfect equanimity of her part- 
 ner's aspirations after the holy state which had 
 become of late the too frequent theme. 
 
 " Indeed," said she ; " people should be con- 
 tent as they are if they knew when they were 
 well off. My poor dear Mr. Trumble, who was 
 in the law himself, was an excellent husband if it 
 had'nt a been for his temper, but men all have 
 tempers, and woman is a slave except she's single 
 as I am, happy to be so now since it pleased 
 Providence to remove him. We all have our 
 trials and we should'ut court them. I'm glad 
 you like Miss Fane; 1 was afraid she was a 
 thought too stylish and fine and I'm sure we 
 
 G 2
 
 124 CLARA FANE. 
 
 shant get Ler to be useful in the house, for she 
 seems to be brought up a fine lady to know 
 nothing but learning. However we must put 
 more on the half boarders as we must pay for 
 appearances. That Charlotte shan't go on in her 
 laziness much longer ; I'll see to her getting up 
 an hour earlier for the time to come and that 
 she does the ironing of the fine things too 
 she's old enough now and we get little enough by 
 her." 
 
 " She's been a very good girl while you were 
 away/' said Miss Giles ; " I've nothing to com- 
 plain of in her, except her curiosity peeping into 
 my notes and watching when anyone bows to me. 
 Mr. Curtis called here the other day to see Jane 
 Sumpter and I caught her listening at the key 
 hole while he spoke a word to me in the parlour. 
 All the world might have heard what we said I'm 
 sure it was only about his patient, but one does 
 not choose to be watched by a young chit like 
 that." Miss Giles tossed her tresses back from 
 her brow and leant her cheek on her hand as she 
 said this with a sigh. 
 
 " I suppose young Curtis will be looking out 
 for a wife of his own age soon," said Mrs. Trum- 
 ble, spitefully ; " it will be the better for him, for 
 I don't like encouraging a doctor who isn't mar- 
 ried, it's not so respectable in an establishment
 
 CLARA FANE. 125 
 
 for young ladies. I can't think why old Doctor 
 Beale can't come himself, instead of sending that 
 jackanapes." 
 
 " He is far from deserving that appellation," 
 returned Miss Giles; "he is a young man pos- 
 sessed of a refined mind able to appreciate superi- 
 ority, and a medical practitioner also *of great 
 skill!" 
 
 " Perhaps he'll fall in love with Miss Fane," 
 said Mrs. Trumble ; " they'll be two fine people 
 together." 
 
 Miss Philippa started and bit her lip, and un- 
 pleasing visions appeared to rise to her mind. 
 
 " I hope the young lady you have introduced, 
 madam," said she, severely, " is too correct in her 
 conduct to give rise to such surmises, otherwise 
 your judgment will suffer." 
 
 "Oh, I was only joking," said Mrs. Trumble, 
 fearing she had gone too far, " and she may be 
 engaged for what I know. Well, my dear, we'll 
 hope all will go on well, and nobody will think of 
 marrying yet; there's always time for young 
 folks to think of bettering themselves. I've 
 brought down the wreath for your hair you 
 wanted it's quite a love and the victorine, and 
 the ribbons, and the bonnet, quite the rage in 
 London. I think we shall cut a figure at church
 
 126 CLARA FANE. 
 
 and at the Well-flowering this season. Is Lady 
 Brixton at the hall ?" 
 
 " She has just returned/' said Miss Giles, 
 " with the two girls, as great flirts as ever. And 
 the Goldspins are all at home, as proud as usual." 
 
 After discussing many other minute particu- 
 lars, relative to their neighbours and their estab- 
 lishment, the partners retired, their conversation 
 having been previously gleaned carefully by 
 Charlotte, who was at her customary post at the 
 keyhole, a position which enabled her to become 
 thoroughly acquainted with all the secrets which 
 she considered it necessary for her to know in 
 order that she might -regulate her conduct accord- 
 ingly. In this accomplishment she might have 
 been a worthy pupil of Mrs. Spicer, between 
 whom and herself, as far as this similarity went, 
 there was a sympathy as strong as that the 
 German poet declares to exist between two trees 
 of the same species, which, divided by two worlds, 
 sigh for each other's society.
 
 CLARA FANE. 127 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I sought out for one to love in love with being loved ! 
 
 St. Augmtin. 
 
 FOB some months Clara continued in Mrs. Trum- 
 ble's establishment and led a life sufficiently 
 monotonous but not disagreeable. Miss Philippa 
 was affected and silly at times, and so much taken 
 up with her romantic attachment to some lover in 
 her mind that she consented to invest Mr. Curtis, 
 the apothecary, with the attributes she desired. 
 It was not, however, very frequently that they 
 could meet, as their several avocations took up 
 their time on both sides almost entirely. Church, 
 where Miss Giles led her little flock, Mr. Curtis 
 could seldom contrive to visit 
 
 " 'Twas such a busy life," 
 
 but now and then in their botanical walks as 
 spring crept on, when the young ladies were
 
 128 CLARA FANE. 
 
 allowed to wander about the fields and lanes in 
 search of specimens, the young doctor's steed 
 would sometimes be met trotting along and his 
 master would linger beneath the shady arches of 
 the trees and utter commonplaces which with 
 Miss Philippa psfcsed muster for the most refined 
 gallantry. On one of these occasions Mr. Curtis 
 drew from his waistcoat pocket a card, which he 
 presented to Miss Giles, apologising for having 
 hitherto neglected to do so. 
 
 " I have been very remiss indeed/* said he, 
 " to have forgotten to give it you before ; 
 it's an artist's, said to be very clever, and I 
 thought if any of your young ladies should like 
 to be drawn he might get a little employment. 
 Be hasn't been long here, lodging at Farmer 
 Stokes's, and doesn't seem to have much to do; 
 he's rather a queer-looking genius, but well-spoken 
 enough. He's always drawing the old men and 
 women about, and makes capital likenesses, which 
 he very liberally gives the good people for their 
 trouble. The other day he asked me to recom- 
 mend him at your school, but I quite forgot it. 
 You look so well yourself, Miss Philippa, that I 
 think you couldn't do better than let him try his 
 hand on you." 
 
 " Dear me, Mr. Curtis, I'm sure I should not 
 dream of such a thing!" lisped Miss Philippa;
 
 CLARA FANE. 129 
 
 " I think it's only fit for people that are engaged, 
 and I'm far from that I'm sure." 
 
 " Well, ma'am," returned the young apothe- 
 cary, " there's no saying how long you may 
 remain so, you know, and it's always well to be 
 prepared." 
 
 So saying, with a satisfied laugh at his own 
 wit, he put his horse into a canter, and waving 
 his hand gallantly disappeared from her view, as 
 the conscious Ariadne whispered to her heart 
 
 " He certainly must mean something !" 
 
 She looked at the card, on which was written 
 " J. Clark, Artist and Portrait Painter, from Lon- 
 don, on Moderate Terms," and so absorbed was 
 she in her thoughts that the grammatical con- 
 struction of the artist's phrase passed unnoticed 
 even by her critical ken, accustomed to continued 
 correction of similar errors. 
 
 " I have a good mind," mused she, " to sit to 
 this man, if it would not look particular, if he is 
 not dear, and I can get Mrs. Trumble or Miss 
 Fane to do the same." 
 
 On her return home Miss Philippa was quite 
 absorbed in this new idea, and Mr. Clark's card 
 was preserved with care to be acted upon as occa- 
 sion should serve hereafter. Clara was surprised 
 to hear her continual desire expressed that she 
 should sit for her portrait. 
 
 G 3
 
 130 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " You would make such a good picture/' she 
 said, " aud really I should so like to see it. Sup- 
 pose we send for this artist, Clark, and see what 
 he has done." 
 
 As Miss Philippa was in part mistress at Ver- 
 non House she had little trouble in gaining her 
 point, having artfully contrived to interest Mrs. 
 Trumble by suggesting that her niece, an ugly, 
 awkward girl in the school, would look lovely on 
 paper. 
 
 At length it was agreed that the artist should 
 try his hand on no other than Miss Giles who 
 affected to sacrifice herself for the good of the 
 community. 
 
 Mr. Clark accordingly came, and very rapidly 
 succeeded in taking the portrait, charging so 
 moderately that Mrs. Trumble's heart was dis- 
 posed to open towards him, particularly when he 
 very liberally offered to paint her niece for 
 nothing, begging" to present the picture, when 
 completed, to the worthy aunt. 
 
 In the height of his favour Mr. Clarke was 
 asked to tea, and it was on that occasion that 
 Clara first saw the hero of much talk for the last 
 few weeks. Mr. Clark was not, however, a person 
 to interest her much, and she would scarcely have 
 noticed his presence but for the novelty of a male 
 visitor appearing within the sacred precincts of 
 the establishment at all.
 
 CLARA FANE. 131 
 
 Mr. Clark was a tall man, remarkably ill- 
 dressed, and awkward in his appearance ; his cos- 
 tume on the evening when she first met him was 
 a black coat which hung loosely round him, a 
 pair of grey trousers, very full and stuffed into 
 Hessian boots, which were adorned with tas- 
 sels ; his shirt collar was large and high and 
 nearly covered his cheeks, which were shaded by 
 bushy red whiskers ; he wore blue spectacles, and 
 a black silk scull cap, which he apologised for 
 retaining, excusing himself under the plea of 
 having lately suffered from deafness, a defect 
 which was at times sufficiently apparent, and 
 though doubtless inconvenient to himself enabled 
 those around him frequently to indulge in re- 
 marks which they might not desire him to hear. 
 
 For instance, when Mrs. Trumble asked 
 Clara, soto voce, what she thought of their new 
 beau, she answered without fear of shocking him 
 by her candour, as she was already informed of 
 his defect 
 
 " He is the most awkward, extraordinary-look- 
 ing man, and would be altogether disagreeable 
 but for his voice which appears to me at times 
 to be almost musical." 
 
 She had soon, however, reason to be surprised 
 at the falseness of ear; for, in a general way, 
 Mr. Clark's voice was harsh and husky, and some-
 
 132 CLARA FANE. 
 
 times was singularly hoarse, owing to frequent 
 colds which he mentioned being subject to in 
 consequence of exposure to weather when sketch- 
 ing. 
 
 He had rather an absent manner and a short, 
 abrupt way of speaking which was somewhat 
 comic. On the whole he evidently possessed the 
 elements of an eccentric character ; but he was 
 singularly good-tempered and obliging, and as he 
 spoke little and appeared innoffensive he became 
 by degrees quite a welcome guest to the two 
 ladies. 
 
 He was exemplary in picking up fallen gloves 
 and handkerchiefs, in handing muffins and cups 
 at tea, in placing chairs and other little civilities. 
 He could play a little on the flute, too, although 
 he often put Clara out when he attempted to ac- 
 company her, and would, in the midst of a passage 
 which he was really executing well, stop suddenly 
 short and apologise for his deficiency. He was, 
 indeed, accustomed to apologise for everything, 
 in and out of season, and this peculiarity, added 
 to a habit of staring, for which he also apologised 
 ias arising from a habit of abstraction, made him 
 sufficiently ridiculous. 
 
 One day, after indulging in one of those fits 
 of gazing which went near to put Clara out of 
 countenance, he- suddenly exclaimed
 
 CLARA FANE. 133 
 
 " ' Pon my word, mum taking a liberty I 
 fear, but artists are but men when we see a fine 
 head we long for it beg to be excused for saying 
 so. Preparing picture for Exhibition new sub- 
 ject Holy Family dying for a Madonna ! at a 
 stand still for subjects good Josephs amongst 
 the peasants excellent Josephs and asses good 
 capital colour but Madonnas rare your Head 
 just the thing be the making of my picture. 
 Mrs. Trumble promises for St. Anne, if Miss 
 Giles would condescend to be my Magdalen beg 
 to be excused for proposing it." 
 
 Miss Giles bridled " Bless my heart, Mr. 
 Clark," said she, " I've always been led to suppose 
 the Magdalen was not a proper character." 
 
 " Character not quite correct, mum," replied 
 Clark, " but hair beautiful." 
 
 Miss Philippa was propitiated, and, after some 
 further discussion, little to Clara's satisfaction, it 
 was agreed that the sittings should take place. 
 
 " It will make the school talked of," observed 
 Mrs. Trumble, " and that's worth some trouble. 
 You must agree to our hours, Mr. Clarke, for 
 business must be attended to. Shall I want a 
 new cap for St. Anne ?" 
 
 " Drapery, mum, drapery will suffice," said 
 Mr. Clark, much pleased, " all properly arranged
 
 134 CLARA FANE. 
 
 understand tableaux, mum beg pardon for 
 naming it." 
 
 "Well then," said Mrs. Trumble, "Til set 
 when Miss G. can't, and Miss G. when I can't, 
 and I think we shall manage the affair between 
 us." 
 
 " Hope and trust so," said Mr. Clark, " quite 
 a go'd-send to me." 
 
 " Poor man ! he's so grateful ! " observed Miss 
 Philippa, aside, " one likes to oblige him. We 
 shall make a few excursions in the fields and 
 woods," she continued, " as the summer comes 
 on, and I hope you will be one of our beaux ; it 
 will really be quite pleasant to have a person who 
 can make himself so handy." 
 
 This invitation in perspective was accepted 
 readily by the artist, whose eyes sparkled through 
 his spectacles at the prospect, as no doubt he con- 
 sidered that the patronage of the partners could 
 not fail to procure him numerous orders and 
 greatly advance his views. 
 
 The sittings took place in due course, and the 
 picture of the candidate for the honours of the 
 Royal Academy proceeded, although slowly : he 
 professed to be a slow worker and to require many 
 sittings, when he painted in oil colours, although 
 rapid with his pencil in his mere sketches. A
 
 CLARA FANE. 135 
 
 small room with one window, at the back of the 
 house, was appropriated to his work ; this was on 
 the ground floor, immediately under that occupied 
 by Clara, and looked towards the garden. Mr. 
 Clark was permitted by Mrs. Trumble to remain 
 there sometimes to paint after his sitters were 
 dismissed and as several of the children's parents 
 wished them to be painted, he passed much time 
 in his little parlour, not, however, making as rapid 
 a progress a might have been expected. 
 
 He evidently studied his subject minutely, for 
 Clara became, at last, almost disconcerted at the 
 pertinacity of his regards, and she observed that 
 he would lean back in his chair and gaze fixedly 
 on her through his spectacles without transferring 
 to the canvass the look he was attempting to catch. 
 
 One day, when this examination had lasted a 
 longer time than usual, Clara became at last impa- 
 tient, and rose suddenly from her seat, excusing 
 herself from remaining longer as well as she could. 
 
 " Stay, Miss Fane/' said the artist, rising also 
 and detaining her by standing between her and 
 the door, " I foresaw that you would get tired of 
 sitting to me, but I have something particular to 
 say to you ; will you oblige me by resuming your 
 seat while I converse upon a subject which, per- 
 haps, may dissipate the ennui which you no doubt 
 feel, and which, I confess, I begin to share ?"
 
 136 CLARA FANE. 
 
 There was something peculiar in his voice as 
 he said this which struck Clara as extraordinary ; 
 she sat down again, and the artist continued 
 
 " Do you recollect the first time you and I 
 ever met ?" 
 
 Clara started " We met here, a few weeks 
 ago ; it is not so long since that I should forget," 
 said she. 
 
 " We have met several times," replied he ; 
 " but at Rose Cottage do you remember that I 
 told you you were my fate and I yours from that 
 moment." 
 
 As the artist spoke this his tone was altoge- 
 ther changed, and Clara, to her astonishment, 
 found she was listening to the voice which had 
 uttered such strange words to her on a former 
 occasion amongst the fairy people. 
 
 " I am as much a stranger to you now as I 
 was then, but you are not so to me; I have not 
 ceased to watch you since I personated a certain 
 wizard in Paris, and I have taken this method a 
 strange one you will think it, perhaps to intro- 
 duce myself where you are and to become ac- 
 quainted with your character." 
 
 " You take a method, sir," said Clara, redden- 
 ing, " of which I am so far from approving that 
 it inspires me with just displeasure. Why should 
 you try to injure me by assuming a disguise
 
 CLARA FANE. 187 
 
 which is unworthy of you and must compromise 
 me. I seek you not; you deceive yourself in 
 supposing that, after this, I ever shall ; and all I 
 have to say to you is, that I shall immediately 
 think it necessary to acquaint those whom you are 
 deceiving that you are not what you seem." 
 
 " You are wrong, fair Clara," replied the 
 stranger, " you do not know me ; you cannot say 
 that I am not an. artist working for my bread. 
 What disgrace is there in receiving my addresses 
 in ir.y present capacity? you, a teacher in a 
 school, I, on the same footing you, patronised at 
 Rose Cottage, I, the same what have you to 
 tell ? Did you ever hear my name before ? am I 
 not Mr. John Clark, at your service, and your 
 obedient servant into the bargain ? Sit down and 
 listen, do not make an eclat do not compromise 
 yourself, and there is no harm done. I have 
 already declared to Mrs. Trumble that I am your 
 admirer she has therefore nothing to learn ; she 
 approves of my suit and gives me her counte- 
 nance. I cannot see the harm of our carrying on 
 our happily-begun friendship in a quiet way." 
 
 " This is both absurd and impossible," said 
 Clara, annoyed at his coolness. " Do not suppose 
 me so inexperienced as to be unable to act for 
 myself and to do what I think fit and proper. I 
 shall go immediately to Mrs. Trumble, and relate
 
 138 CLARA FANE. 
 
 to her the whole affair; she will at once, of 
 course, relieve me from your presence and from 
 the inconvenience of the position into which your 
 strange whim has cast me." 
 
 " Would you like me to indulge you in Ercles' 
 vein ?" said the stranger, with imperturbable sang- 
 froid. " Shall I tell you I adore you, and shall I 
 kneel at your feet to declare the fact ? Or shall 
 I very quietly take off my spectacles, put my false 
 whiskers into my pocket, remove my black scull 
 cap, and allow my own hair to appear, and thus 
 give you a glimpse of a face which you will not 
 forget again ? My voice has already made im- 
 pression enough on you you recollected it at 
 once." 
 
 As he spoke he very deliberately suited his 
 actions to his words, and the fine head of 
 the guest at Rose Cottage took the place of 
 that of the eccentric Mr. Clark. The transforma- 
 tion would have been complete but for the ridicu- 
 lous costume he wore. 
 
 ' ' And now, Clara," said he, " I will relieve you 
 from my presence; do not imagine I abandon 
 you, I am in no mood for that, I merely wait 
 my time. I have done nothing to offend you 
 and you have no right to be offended. Let us 
 part friends ; but hear me at least for a few mo- 
 ments, as after this time you seem in no humour
 
 CLARA FANE. 139 
 
 to afford me other opportunities of talking to you. 
 I have long sought for a being such as my idea 
 has conceived, and have never yet found her; I 
 imagined from the first, when I saw you by the 
 merest chance, that you were my ideal ; I have 
 followed you since in order to discover if I have 
 deceived myself. I cannot yet decide, because I 
 fear to be betrayed, as all men are, by the admira- 
 tion which beauty excites. I regret that you are 
 beautiful as fair, it may be, as that form which 
 inspired the soul of Apelles, when, at the fountain 
 of Pireneus, he first beheld the youthful Lais, 
 pure then as you may be, yet lovely as she was 
 but I will not compare you to her except in her 
 nonage. Beauty is ever a snare : the Venus of 
 Praxiteles was no divine emanation; it was the 
 marvellous beauty of the accomplished Phryne 
 that served the artist for the model of his immor- 
 tal statue. Excuse me for naming her," he said, 
 in a comic tone, and resuming the voice of Mr. 
 Clark. 
 
 " Cease, I entreat," interrupted Clara, " I 
 cannot permit these philosophical reflections to 
 be carried further. Your surmises respectirag me 
 are totally indifferent as far as I am myself con- 
 cerned. Since I do not covet either your admi- 
 ration or your regard for you are a perfect 
 stranger to me I cannot see why I should be
 
 140 CLARA FANE. 
 
 forced to prolong this interview. I beg you to let 
 me pass, and that you will depart immediately, 
 and leave me free for the future. You have no 
 sort of right over me, and I will not submit to 
 the cool impertinence by means of which you 
 seem to think to control me." 
 
 " My fair courroucee" replied the stranger, 
 "your indignation is as just as becoming, but 
 now you have driven me to detain you farther, in 
 order that I may endeavour to obtain your par- 
 don. I am really sorry for the annoyance you 
 feel, and earnestly entreat to be forgiven. Con- 
 sider my conduct dispassionately : I see you first 
 in very singular society, I do not know you, I am 
 struck with your appearance, I listen to your 
 voice and recognise genius this enchants me, I 
 lose sight of you and by the merest chance I see 
 you again, and again, always in singular society, 
 I discover your retreat, I follow and meet you 
 once more in singular society. You are formed 
 to grace any position, yet I have not yet seen you 
 in that which should be your element. Am I so 
 wrong in speculating upon what and who you may 
 be when our first meeting was at Mrs. Frillet's ?" 
 
 Clara was much struck with this last question, 
 and the more respectful tone, approaching even 
 to tender interest, in which it was put. 
 
 " I will so far condescend," said she, " as to
 
 CLARA FANE. 141 
 
 ask you, in my turn, why the society, which 
 appeared to me so refined and so attractive as that 
 at Mrs. Frillet' s, should cause you to consider it 
 strange that I should have met you there." 
 
 " If you do not already know it I can inform 
 you that it could not appear otherwise, since the 
 character Mrs. Frillet bears in the world is by no 
 means spotless : she lives separate from her hus- 
 band, receives persons who are seen nowhere else, 
 is indebted almost to chance for her gay estab- 
 lishment, and is by no means a proper person to 
 introduce a young lady into the world." 
 
 Clara blushed deeply, and replied " We did 
 not know all this, we had never seen Mrs. Frillet 
 till the day before I met you at Rose Cottage, she 
 answered my advertisement for a situation as 
 governess, and Mrs. Fowler and I went do\vn 
 with a view of my undertaking the education of 
 her little daughter, Dorine." 
 
 " This is comic/' said the stranger ; " Dorine 
 is a creature then of her fertile imagination ; she 
 must have brought you there to have amused him 
 she calls her brother, who was getting tired of her 
 society and the expense of entertaining her 
 caprices." 
 
 " I have been sadly deceived," said Clara, mor- 
 tified and distressed at every word he uttered, 
 " and my dear Mrs. Fowler no less so she would
 
 142 CLARA FANE. 
 
 not have exposed me to this for worlds. But, 
 perhaps, it is you who are deceiving me and slan- 
 dering that lady ; what object could she have in 
 acting in this manner to a stranger? I cannot 
 believe it. But, be it as it may, sir, it is time to 
 put an end to this disagreeable explanation, of 
 which I desire no more. Mrs. Frillet took no 
 farther notice of me after I parted with her at 
 Rose Cottage and my object has since been gained. 
 I am now placed, and I desire no interference on 
 the part of any one, being capable of directing 
 my actions myself." 
 
 " You have already proved it," said the 
 stranger, sarcastically, " with the great knowledge 
 of the world shown at your debut, you will, of 
 course, never fall into snares ; should you, how- 
 ever, be placed in any awkward predicament, and 
 I can help you, you may depend on me. I see, 
 by your frowning that you do not intend to em- 
 ploy me, but the day may come when you will 
 think better of me than you do now." 
 
 " I have little reason to think well of you at 
 present," said Clara, " for all you have done has 
 tended to annoy me. Our acquaintance ceases 
 from this time." 
 
 So saying, she made an effort to pass him, 
 which he no longer prevented, but, bowing, 
 allowed her to go, and she left the room with a
 
 CLARA FANE. 143 
 
 lofty step, without glancing to the right or the 
 left. 
 
 The false Mr. Clark paused a minute, seemed 
 to reflect, then having apparently decided on a 
 course of conduct, he replaced his disguises and 
 reseated himself at the easel, awaiting the arrival 
 of Mrs. Trumble. That lady soon after arrived, 
 and, on her entry, he appeared to her in a state 
 of affliction, having covered his face with his 
 handkerchief as if to conceal his tears.
 
 144 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 En amour il y en a toujours un qui aime Vautre : il etait 
 decide a n'etre plus jamais que Fautre. 
 
 Al. Karr. 
 
 " BLESS me, sir," cried Mrs. Trumble, when she 
 entered the room, " what has happened ! what can 
 be the matter ?" 
 
 "Oh, ma'am," replied he, "such a scene 
 quite overcome. Experienced the most unkind 
 treatment from the lady ventured to declare my 
 passion beg pardon for naming it rejects me 
 altogether insists on my quitting the neighbour- 
 hood heart-broken to do so, but will obey her 
 hard work for the nerves, ma'am." 
 
 " You can't go," replied Mrs. Trumble, " till 
 you have finished them picters, you know, let 
 her be ever so cross. I can't say I ever thought 
 Miss Fane would have you ; she isn't like Miss 
 Philippa, who would be ready to jump at an offer
 
 CLARA FANE. 145 
 
 any day it was made. However, Miss Fane's 
 only my teacher, and it's no affair of mine ; she 
 settles her own affairs, as I hope you will yours, 
 and be as good as your word about them like- 
 nesses. I shouldn't like to offend the parents of 
 them children." 
 
 " Certainly, ma'am," resumed Mr. Clark, " but 
 hard upon me to be refused so downright. Lady 
 thinks because I'm only an artist that I have no 
 money may carry her geese to a worse market 
 may have saved something after all these years of 
 work could keep a wife as well as any of her 
 fine lovers, if she has any." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Clark," said Mrs. Trumble 
 kindly, propitiated by the allusion to his means, 
 " I am sorry for you, but as I have no wish to 
 lose a teacher who suits me pretty well, I caiinot 
 be sorry you haven't carried her off. Don't be 
 down-hearted faint heart, you know we shall 
 see by and bye whether she wo'nt be a little more 
 tractable." 
 
 " Much obliged, ma'am," said Mr. Clark, 
 " much obliged if I can serve you in the way of 
 scholars shall be happy school exactly suit my 
 cousin rich lawyer's wife Mrs. Truemari heard 
 her name no donbt drives about in her own car- 
 riage has three little girls hope to be excused 
 for mentioning it." 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 14G CLARA FANE. 
 
 Mrs. Trnmble was much pleased with this 
 politic promise of probable patronage to her esta- 
 blishment and as she never willingly lost sight of 
 her own interest she looked upon the artist with 
 the more favour. 
 
 Clara's position meantime was by no means 
 an agreeable one, obliged to conceal the discovery 
 she had made for fear of creating an awkward 
 scene which she had no means of explaining 
 away, uneasy at the knowledge of Mrs. Frillet's 
 character and the equivocal situation in which her 
 visit to her house had placed her, she hesitated 
 what to do and saw difficulties increasing around 
 her in the artful management of Mr. Clark, who 
 had so contrived as to gain both Mrs. Trumble's 
 and Miss Giles's good will, both of whom spoke to 
 her in his favour and he evidently showed that he 
 had no intention of leaving the neighbourhood. 
 She had it however in her power to refuse any 
 longer to sit for the completion of the picture, and 
 also to decline making one in the parlour on even- 
 ings Mr. Clark was a guest and consequently she 
 saw her persecutor no more. 
 
 She wrote immediately to her only friend 
 Mrs. Fowler, relating the event which had so 
 much perplexed her and suggested to her the 
 propriety of seeking for another situation where 
 she could be free from the annoyance which now 
 beset her.
 
 CLARA FANE. 147 
 
 " I know not/' said she, in her letter, " whe- 
 ther this person is really an artist as he pretends ; 
 he is at all events a master in his art and shows 
 singular talent, yet I cannot help thinking his 
 real rank in society is more exalted ; he is one of 
 the best actors imaginable and I fancy could 
 assume any form that suited his purpose. I am 
 able for the present to avoid him, but how long 
 this will last I cannot say, he is a frequent guest 
 in the house and from a few words that Miss 
 Philippa let fall I really suspect he is pretending 
 to offer her his attentions ; this is, of course a 
 further deception ; but she is so vain and silly 
 that she is capable of encouraging him, if she 
 finds that the young apothecary makes no demon- 
 stration in her favour. I could almost laugh at 
 the absurdity of my position, yet it is nevertheless 
 very vexatious and I must escape from it as I 
 may. Midsummer will not be long in arriving 
 and then I shall return to town. Mrs. Spicer's 
 will be a safe home for me for a time and I must 
 set about either getting daily pupils or finding 
 another situation. 
 
 " Imagine how awkwardly I am placed by the 
 extraordinary conduct of this man; almost every 
 evening he serenades me with his flute, stationed 
 at the end of the garden, for the meadows of the 
 farmer at whose house he lives join our paddock 
 
 H 2
 
 148 CLARA FANE. 
 
 and he can easily jump the fence and approach 
 so near. 
 
 " Miss Giles came into my room the other night 
 on tiptoe, to impart her suspicions to me that that 
 poor dear Clark was playing to attract her atten- 
 tions she begged me not to notice the occurrence 
 to Mrs. Trumble looked very mysterious, sighed 
 and talked sentimentally. He plays as well as he 
 draws, which is inimitably altogether he must 
 be a most extraordinary character. I regret 
 beyond anything I can express that we were 
 betrayed into that pleasant visit which has turned 
 out so dangerous, it seems to me that most agree- 
 able things have such an ending ; true it is that 
 my sojourn here has few attractions, yet it threat- 
 ens a finale equally annoying. I do not like the 
 life I have hitherto led here ; these ladies are the 
 very personifications of common place in their 
 several styles. Mrs. Trumble illiterate and vulgar 
 minded and Miss Giles silly and soulless. I am 
 utterly without the advantage I have so long 
 enjoyed with you that it has become second 
 nature to me the privilege of expressing all my 
 thoughts and receiving in return precious com- 
 ments and enlightened remarks, assisting me in 
 all my pursuits and studies encouraging me and 
 lightening all difficulties. Alas ! all is mute and 
 silent round me now, no one understands me or
 
 CLARA FANE. 149 
 
 seeks to do so I grow like those I associate with 
 and am ready to exclaim with the despairing poet 
 in his exile 
 
 * Fainting genius, fancy, wit decline, 
 And all is lost that once I fancied mine ! ' 
 
 I fear I am uiisuited to the monotonous life to 
 which I am for the present doomed. I had begun 
 to think danger and difficulty in the world would 
 be better than such stupid security in this obscure 
 corner of it and just as I had come to this con- 
 clusion I am overtaken by the ill-omened adven- 
 ture which has broken the monotony of which I 
 complained. Perhaps I frighten myself without 
 cause, perhaps this strange man will get tired of 
 the amusement he sought and go away as he 
 came, if so I shall try to reconcile myself to 
 remaining here; the object I desired is gained as 
 far as the routine of tuition being mastered and I 
 am as learned in petty nothings as could be 
 required. You will say that my proneness to 
 romance is being rewarded and that I am becom- 
 ing a heroine. I will let you know if the scene 
 shifts, and my perplexities end." 
 
 Very few posts after that which had carried 
 this letter to Llangollen and caused considerable 
 uneasiness there, brought one to Clara from 
 Paris which unexpectedly relieved her mind ; she 
 lost no time in forwarding it to her anxious friends
 
 150 CLARA FANE. 
 
 and looked forward with impatience to the time 
 when she could avail herself of the relief it held 
 out. 
 
 The letter was from her dear friend of Paris, 
 Eugenie. It was thus conceived 
 
 " Best and most amiable of friends. Alas ! 
 we have indeed regretted you since our ill fortune 
 carried you away from our roof. My mother and 
 I could not get accustomed to enter the desolate 
 room once occupied by you where for so many 
 months you studied so indefatigably and where 
 I so often interrupted you with my idleness. 
 Well, this melancholy could not last and in order 
 to give a more lively turn to affairs, Gustave must 
 come with his proposals, which I think he made 
 me wait a long while for, entre nous, and as there 
 is nothing so good for the spirits as a wedding I 
 thought it my duty not to delay my consent, 
 having as you know, long made up my mind on 
 the subject. In brief we were married, he has the 
 sweetest little shop, which his father gives up to 
 him, in the Rue de la Paix, the upper apartments, 
 which are let to great families, are magnificent ; but 
 we have a charming suite for ourselves with a room 
 always prepared for you. Gustave has plenty of 
 busines and I am more useful than he will allow, 
 though he is obliged to confess that I answer 
 customers admirably and can do a thousand
 
 CLARA FANE. 151 
 
 things in the jewellery line almost as well as he 
 can. We took a trip to Fontainebleau and have 
 been enjoying the lovely forest during the last 
 fine warm weather. Was there ever such a Spring! 
 I really think Nature sent it express for our 
 marriage. But the chief thing I have to tell you 
 is a circumstance which may be the means of 
 bringing you back to Paris, at least long enough 
 to give us a glimpse of you en passant, if no 
 more. 
 
 " One of my husband's pratiques is a rich 
 Englishman, a widower with two daughters. His 
 wife died some years ago in Italy, and he has lately 
 parted with a French governess who lived with 
 them from that time. It seems he wishes to en- 
 gage an English governess now, in order that his 
 children may have the benefit of their own lan- 
 guage and the manners of their own country. You 
 are exactly the person who would be a treasure to 
 these girls, and my husband has made him ac- 
 quainted with your name. I enclose his address in 
 London and beg you to write and see about it, 
 since, as you tell me and I can well conceive, your 
 present position is not inviting enough to make you 
 desire to bury yourself in a country school when 
 you might find a wider field for your accom- 
 plishments.
 
 152 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " Adieu, my dearest and only friend. Gustavo 
 begs to offer his homage. 
 
 "Yours EUGENIE LECOQ. 
 
 " I have changed my name but am still ton 
 petite cherie as before. How proud I shall be to 
 show you our menage ! The Wizard was right, 
 you see, in my case has he been so in yours ? 
 confess all to me." 
 
 The advancing year brought with it summer 
 weather and the country round Bakewell was in 
 all its beauty when a party was arranged, at 
 which the whole school was to assist to witness a 
 Well-flowering, one of the prettiest vestiges of an 
 ancient, probably pagan, worship, which England 
 has preserved. Every spring and well throughout 
 the country is on a certain day adorned with 
 flowers arranged in a sort of mosaic work on 
 frames which are placed over the precious waters 
 forming temples and shrines before which crowds 
 of gay pilgrims assemble and offer their tribute 
 of admiration to the beautiful Flora and the 
 beneficient nymphs of the waters, 
 
 The country people, who are prone to destroy 
 poetical associations, call these springs taps ; they 
 hasten from one to the other, for every well in a 
 village is decorated in the same way, comparing
 
 CLARA FANE. 153 
 
 the different taps and pronouncing on their 
 merits. There is always a procession of some 
 club of good fellows who parade the little hamlet 
 with drums beating and colours flying and each 
 of the members is decorated with bright ribbons 
 and bows and scarfs. They finish their pere- 
 grinations, after a visit to the parish church, 
 which is always gaily attended on that day, by a 
 jovial dinner and generally there is more than 
 one dance in the place. 
 
 Nothing can be gayer or more exhilirating 
 than the aspect of the neat smart young girls and 
 youths who come in their best dresses from distant 
 towns and villages for many miles ; vehicles of 
 every kind are seen hurrying along the roads 
 crowded with lively travellers all ready to enjoy 
 and be amused. Though an English merry 
 making is never so brilliant so noisy or so 
 amusing as the same ceremony in Fance or in 
 Italy, yet there is no want of hilarity and buoyant 
 spirit to carry off a Well- flowering with ecttt. _ 
 
 Indeed, in a fine day of sunshine, when the trees 
 are in their full beauty and summer has yielded her 
 richest flowers to make garlands, it is difficult to 
 imagine anything prettier or more animated. 
 Most of the great families of the county, make a 
 point of driving up to the wells, and their brilliant 
 carriages filled with finely dressed company, the 
 
 H 3
 
 154 CLARA FANE. 
 
 spirited horses of the young squires, the gigs of the 
 gentry, the carts and waggons of the peasants, make 
 a melange sufficiently piquant and entertaining. 
 
 Clara's spirits rose with the gay scene she wit- 
 nessed, and she felt, almost for the first time since 
 she had been in the country, that she could really 
 enjoy its beauties. She was standing before one 
 of the most magnificent of the wells and reading 
 the inscriptions in flowery letters on a leafy 
 ground, which set forth the names of the builders 
 of the wells, their titles, and the dates of their 
 benefactions. The arms, shields and mottoes of the 
 lords of the soil were thus emblazoned with singu- 
 lar art and the effect was charming in the extreme. 
 
 Several of the children had grouped them- 
 selves about her, others had stayed away with or 
 without their other protectors. Mrs. Trumble was 
 supported by the arm of Mr. Clark, and the 
 simpering Philippa was engaged in a flirting con- 
 versation with the young apothecary who walked 
 his horse along the road holding him by the bridle 
 and leant down towards her as she tripped along 
 the path way, lingering as much as possible be- 
 hind the rest. 
 
 Mrs. Trumble presently recognised s'ome 
 friends and having joined them, Mr. Clark re- 
 linquished his post and Clara found him shortly 
 at her side.
 
 CLARA FANE. 155 
 
 " Am I so displeasing to you/' said he, in a 
 low voice, "that you will not permit me to enjoy 
 your society for a few moments ? Be not uneasy, 
 I seek you this time in order merely to announce 
 to you that you will be in future free from the 
 restraint of my presence. I am going to leave 
 Derbyshire almost immediately. You have been 
 most severely prudent and have kept our secret 
 admirably, for which I am bound to thank you." 
 
 " You owe me no thanks," said Clara ; " the 
 considerations were merely personal which caused 
 me to allow your deception to pass undiscovered. 
 I beg you will not consider that you owe me 
 obligation ; assuredly I do not look upon myself 
 as your debtor. I was indulgent enough to 
 imagine that you would have thought it more 
 courteous to remove long since." 
 
 " It is kind of you, at least," said the stranger, 
 " to entertain anything like a good opinion of 
 me. Suppose I were to change my conduct alto- 
 gether, and, instead of the bold freedom I have 
 hitherto dared to adopt, I were to become a meek, 
 patient, much-enduring admirer, submissive to 
 your frowns, and content with the hope of receiv- 
 ing after some seven years' chivalrous appren- 
 ticeship to patience, a single smile as my reward. 
 You are smiling now, which is a good sign." 
 
 " I smile," replied she, " at the absurdity of
 
 156 CLARA FANE. 
 
 my position, not as favouring a preference which 
 has more the air of a persecution. I am no 
 heiress formed to be a mark for mercenary attacks 
 no popular actress destined to be the object of 
 persevering pursuit : I am an insignificant per- 
 sonage quite unfit to be the heroine of a romantic 
 adventure, and, moreover, a person to whom such 
 distinctions are utterly displeasing." 
 
 She was leaving the place as she spoke, but 
 the crowd had closed round them and to struggle 
 out of it was difficult ; she, however, attempted it, 
 but as no one was receding and a great many 
 advancing she found herself unable to make way 
 against the torrent. At this moment there was a 
 cry at a little distance which increased to shrieks, 
 and the people came running along the road con- 
 fusedly, calling for help and uttering exclamations 
 of terror. 
 
 The young apothecary's horse had become 
 suddenly unmanageable, frightened at the drums 
 and horns, had started away from his master, and, 
 with a broken bridle, was galloping into the midst 
 of the crowd overturning all before him. Several 
 persons were knocked down, and others, flying 
 before the terrified animal, fell on their com- 
 panions. Clara was borne away by the press and 
 thrown violently against the scaffolding of the 
 well; her head came in contact with a wooden
 
 CLARA FANE. 157 
 
 support and she was dashed to the ground 
 stunned arid lifeless. 
 
 She was not conscious of what had happened 
 till, on reviving, she was astonished to find her- 
 self in a low carriage, which was driving rapidly. 
 She looked round her in a bewildered manner, 
 unable to account for her position, and observed 
 that she was supported by the arms of an elderly 
 lady in black, who uttered an exclamation of 
 satisfaction on seeing her come to herself. 
 
 " We shall soon be home now," said she, 
 " and then I hope, with care, you will recover in a 
 short time." 
 
 " What has happened ?" said Clara ; " I am 
 conscious only of a crowd a rush and screaming, 
 where is Mrs. Trumble? and where are all the 
 young ladies ?" 
 
 " I will tell you all by-and-by," replied the 
 lady, " meantime, do not agitate yourself, you are 
 quite safe." 
 
 While this was said the little carriage was 
 mounting a hill, having entered the gates of a 
 park which seemed very extensive. Clara gazed 
 round her, but found her head so giddy that she 
 was obliged to lean back again. She felt that she 
 she must have sustained considerable injury by 
 the pain she experienced in all her limbs. The 
 last image in her mind was Mr. Clark, and she
 
 158 CLARA FANE. 
 
 had a vague notion of his having caused her acci- 
 dent. 
 
 " Whose house is it to whom you are kindly 
 taking me, madam/' asked she ; " I perceive that 
 we are not in the road to Mrs. Trumble's." 
 
 " The house you see at the top of the hill, 
 amongst the trees, is Loftus Hall/' replied her 
 companion; " it is there I am taking you. Mr. 
 Loftus happened to be in the crowd at the Well- 
 flowering and saw your accident ; he lifted you up 
 and brought you himself to the carriage in which 
 I had come to see the sight ; he desired me to 
 take you directly to his house, as the confusion 
 in the village was- so great that he could get no 
 one to attend to you. Pray do not be uneasy ; 
 your friends will have been told that you are 
 taken care of, and no doubt you will soon get 
 well."
 
 CLARA FANE. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Think on thy Proteus : when thou haply seest 
 Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel 
 Wish me partaker in thy happiness. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 LOFTUS HALL was, by this time, immediately in 
 view : it was an antique building, full of windows, 
 and ornamented with numerous towers with carved 
 parapets and chimneys. They entered a wide 
 court-yard through a fine arch, and drove up to 
 the principal entrance where an old servant, out of 
 livery, stood to receive them, and conducted them 
 into a large hall of great height, round which ran 
 a gallery the walls of which were covered with 
 faded tapestry. 
 
 Clara was unable to walk without assistance, 
 and was almost carried by the servant into an 
 apartment which opened from the hall. 
 
 She had not been long established on a sofa 
 when the arrival of a surgeon was announced who
 
 160 CLARA FANE. 
 
 proceeded immediately to make enquiries respect- 
 ing the injuries she had received. He addressed 
 the lady in black, telling her that he had obeyed 
 Mr. Loftus's pressing summons and had lost no 
 time in hastening to the hall. He desired that 
 his patient should be put to bed immediately and 
 kept very quiet, but apprehended no serious con- 
 sequences from the accident. 
 
 " I understand/' said he, " that several persons 
 were more or less hurt in the confusion, but none 
 really injured. Young Curtis had better secure 
 his horse another time before he carries on his 
 flirtation by the road side. This is'nt the way to do 
 business, to provide patients for other doctors." 
 
 He explained that at the time that Curtis's 
 horse burst away and created all the terror which 
 ensued ; he was returning from visiting a patient 
 and was met by Mr. Loftus who directed him to 
 ride to the hall without loss of time. 
 
 " I had no idea he was in the country," said the 
 surgeon ; " and was much surprised to see him. 
 I did not indeed know him at first in his spec- 
 tacles." 
 
 " He only arrived two days ago," replied the 
 lady in black ; " and has not been at home since. 
 When he came up to me with the lady in his 
 arms I did not recognise him either in his glasses; 
 he tells me he has had an affection of his eyes
 
 CLARA FANE. 161 
 
 and finds it necessary to wear them. Tin sure 
 its a pity such fine eyes should be hurt." 
 
 " Do you know the young lady ?" asked the 
 doctor. " I have seen her before walking with 
 Mrs. Trumble's children. I suppose she's a par- 
 lour boarder." 
 
 "I know nothing but that she is hurt, and is 
 brought here to be attended," replied the lady 
 rather shortly, and the doctor took his leave. 
 
 For several days Clara was unable to quit her 
 room ; her ancle had received a sprain, which 
 gave her considerable pain, but with the assiduous 
 care she received from the stranger lady she soon 
 began to improve in health and her spirits rose 
 accordingly. 
 
 The lady in black visited her one morning and 
 after receiving her reiterated thanks for the kind- 
 ness she had shown her, Clara ventured to ask 
 if she had heard from Mrs. Trumble. 
 
 " She is quite aware of your being here," 
 replied the lady, and has been told that when you 
 are recovered you will return." 
 
 " I am extremely indebted also," said Clara, 
 " to Mr. Loftus for his humanity and hospitality, 
 and am at a loss how to let him know my grati- 
 tude perfect stranger as I am. " 
 
 " Oh," said the lady ; " he does not like to be 
 thanked though he is always doing good to every-
 
 162 CLARA FANE. 
 
 one he meets, great and small ; he would have 
 done as much for a beggar on the high road : 
 indeed this old house may be looked upon almost 
 as a hospital for wayfarers, so many are sent 
 here and come to be relieved ; he never stays here 
 more than a few days at a time, for, as is but 
 natural to a young man of fashion, he prefers a 
 gayer place, and is generally in London or Paris." 
 
 " He is a most benevolent man," exclaimed 
 Clara; "it is rare that one young and fashionable 
 thinks of these things." 
 
 "But Mr. Loftus is not like anyone else, I 
 fancy," said the lady ; " he came into his large 
 fortune when quite a boy, his tutor was a good 
 man but quite unfit to guide him in life, being a 
 bookworm, very absent and absorbed in learning. 
 Mr. Loftus went to Italy, and there, I am told, he 
 made himself an artist, attending the studios at 
 Rome like any of them, then he ran wild about 
 music and studied that, so that he is a proficient 
 in all the arts. When he went to Oxford he 
 gave himself up to study as if his life de- 
 pended on it, and fortunate it was for me that 
 he took a fancy to my son there. If I could tell 
 you all he has done for him and for me I should 
 never end ; he is our saviour and benefactor and 
 we have both reason, as we do, to adore him. I 
 really love him as A\ ell as I do my William, only
 
 CLARA FANE. 163 
 
 I have no right to controul him which is a pity, as 
 he has neither father nor mother of his own to 
 give him good advice, and I am afraid he will get 
 into careless habits and not marry, which will be 
 a sad thing, for he would be the best of husbands. 
 He does odd things sometimes, and I cannot 
 always make him out, but I never interfere with 
 any orders he gives. I have only to see them 
 executed here/' 
 
 At this moment a tap at the door told the lady 
 she was wanted and a female voice was heard 
 announcing the arrival of letters and asking if 
 they should be brought to her there. 
 
 " Certainly," she replied ; " this lady will 
 allow me to read them while I keep her company/' 
 
 Clara entreated that she would do so and 
 presently when a large packet was brought to her, 
 she beheld such pleasure in her companion's eyes 
 that she could not help rejoicing to see how grati- 
 fied she was as she tore open the envelope read a 
 few words in it and kissed the enclosure with 
 rapture. 
 
 " It is from my dear son," she exclaimed ; 
 " he writes from Egypt, where he is gone with 
 the Expedition to discover the sources of the 
 Nile." 
 
 " Really ! " said Clara. " I have some interest 
 in that Expedition, a friend of mine, at least, has.
 
 164 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Perhaps your communication may afford some 
 tidings of a young adventurer in that cause his 
 name is Wybrow." 
 
 " Wybrow ! " said the lady, with an exclama- 
 tion of surprise ; what do you know my son then ? 
 why the letter is from himself." 
 
 " You are then the mother of William Wybrow 
 who is engaged to my little friend Maria ?" said 
 Clara. 
 
 " Maria Spicer do you mean ? ah ! that is the 
 the only silly thing he ever did," replied Mrs. 
 Wybrow ; " he did not tell me of it till the last 
 thing. Pray what is she like ? I am uneasy about 
 it and wish he had not entered into such an 
 engagement. With his expectations he might 
 surely do better/' she added, with the usual pride 
 of a mother, always anticipating for her son a 
 brilliant fortune in marriage, against all likelihood 
 or probability ; an amiable weakness inseparable 
 from a mother's character and destined continually 
 to bring its own chastisement, sometimes far more 
 severe than the venial offence deserves. 
 
 There was now a wide field of interest opened 
 between Clara and Mrs. Wybrow ; she did her 
 best to place the character of Maria in the most 
 pleasing light and succeeded in creating the interest 
 for which she strove, but the sad fact of her 
 poverty and the unexalted condition of her family
 
 CLARA FANE. 165 
 
 by no means rendered the reflection of her son's 
 engagement comfortable to the maternal mind. 
 
 Clara entreated to be allowed to hear the 
 young man's communication respecting his ex- 
 ploring expedition, and the mother was only too 
 much delighted to gain an auditor, who felt an 
 interest little inferior to her own. 
 
 " This is the second letter/' said the mother ; 
 "he tells me his health is quite good, his spirits 
 seem excellent and his enthusiasm knows no 
 bounds. Hear what he says about the popular 
 notions of the great river's source." 
 
 " We are not much guided in the directions left 
 us by the ancients or the traditions among the peo- 
 ple. It seems that this glorious river was believed 
 formerly to take its rise in the Mountains of the 
 Moon, but as it seems now pretty well ascertained 
 that no such mountains exist we must not direct 
 our researches that way to find the twelve sources. 
 It is said by some to rise from an enormous lake, 
 which, having quitted, it dives under ground, and 
 flows through mines of gold, after which it reaches 
 a line of caverns filled with rubies, emeralds, and 
 coral, and emerges into the Indian Sea, where it 
 forms a rapid current. But a great king once 
 climbed the Lunar Mountains and, concealed 
 amidst their heights, beheld a river of black pitch, 
 which flowed on silently and with an almost im-
 
 166 CLARA FANE. 
 
 perceptible course ; neither sun or moon enliven 
 this region, neither breeze nor motion exist, all 
 appears dead and hopeless, and a grey shadow 
 hangs over the whole scene. It is said that no 
 traveller returns who once reaches the sum- 
 mit of certain of the peaks, for he is seized with 
 phrenzy, and, unable to resist the attraction which 
 leads him on, goes madly forward till he plunges 
 into the abyss beneath his steps. 
 
 "As this marvellously dangerous spot is found 
 only in the brain of the romancer, I beg 
 you will not be alarmed at our supposed vicinity 
 to it when we really find the long-sought source 
 a feat I am certain we shall perform I shall 
 be sure to return and tell you all about our perils 
 and adventures, and we shall laugh at the dangers 
 you at home frighten your imaginations with. I 
 assure you ours is a party of pleasure, with no 
 drawbacks, and one continued succession of 
 exciting interests. The climate is agreeable, by 
 no means too hot, and sometimes at night posi- 
 tively cold. I have heard of no one having fever, 
 and, for myself, I am not in the least afraid of it, 
 not being at all subject to attacks of the kind, 
 except fevers of delight at the magnificent scenes 
 we pass through. 
 
 " I wish I could offer you at this moment a 
 draught of the blue water of the Nile, so famous
 
 CLARA FANE. 167 
 
 in all ages ; it is the champagne of waters, pure 
 and sweet as a river of Paradise, so say the poets. 
 A Persian king, who had a favourite daughter, 
 would allow her to have no other beverage, for it 
 confers all sorts of virtues on the drinker. Judge 
 then, how much I shall improve in mind and 
 body during my voyage ! Mahomet himself, if 
 he had been so fortunate as to taste it, would, it is 
 believed, have entreated to be permitted to enjoy 
 his immortality on earth, but, as he never did, he 
 is content with the stream that flows from the 
 throne of Allah, served to him in golden goblets 
 by the maids who inhabit hollowed pearls, and 
 are always ready to attend him. 
 
 " It is marvellous to reflect, that since 
 the time of Sesostris to that of Mohamet 
 Ali the source of this mighty river has been 
 hidden in mystery, and as we glide onward still 
 higher and higher it is a sublime thought that 
 we are nearing the unknown region where the 
 immortal secret is preserved. 
 
 " The ancients asserted that it connected 
 the Indus with the Niger, and Alexander, that 
 greatest wonder of humanity, imagined that he 
 had reached the source of the Nile when he had 
 followed the Indus to its birtb, as Columbus did 
 when he found a new world. Though Bruce 
 failed whv should not we succeed ? I am confi-
 
 168 CLARA FANE. 
 
 dent that the great adventure is reserved for our 
 days. 
 
 " The Arabs say that this sacred river flows 
 direct from Paradise, and recognise the leaves of 
 a certain tree of the eternal garden, which are 
 occasionally seen floating on its surface. We have 
 had some excellent fish whose flavour we highly 
 commended, and are told that it obtains its exqui- 
 site quality because its food is composed of these 
 identical leaves. 
 
 " We passed yesterday the Mountain of 
 Birds, where, on every projection of rock, in 
 every niche and corner, dwell countless winged 
 creatures, which, when dispersed by a shot, 
 darken the air with their outspread wings, as 
 they whirl away into space, catching the light 
 upon their plumage. 
 
 " Our sailors keep up a perpetual song, 
 without which they could make no way, and 
 strange it is to lie listlessly in the boat, gliding 
 along the broad, full, calm waters, on which at 
 morning and evening often lies a heavy mist, and 
 hear the echoes of their songs repeated from the 
 shore. 
 
 " We were pursuing our quiet course one 
 morning when we heard a voice from the land 
 hailing us, and perceived a boy, who, with 
 outstretched arms, arrested us to entreat that we
 
 CLARA FANE. 169 
 
 would give his newly-born sister a name ; he had 
 been waiting on the margin of the holy river, till 
 the expected revelation was made him, which he 
 considered was sent from Paradise. I called out 
 your name of Maria, my dear mother : I have a 
 double reason, you know, for its being dear to me 
 now." 
 
 Mrs. Wybrow paused a moment, only half 
 gratified by this observation of her son's ; the 
 slightest pang of a jealousy she could not quite 
 suppress passing through the heart which beat for 
 her son alone. 
 
 " Poor Maria," said Clara, "when you see her 
 you will be content that he should associate her 
 with the image which is dearest to him." 
 
 The mother read on 
 
 " To the mast of our boat the sailors have 
 fastened a hawk this is to preserve us from peril, 
 and is, singularly enough, a remnant of Pagan 
 worship, for Horus, the Sun-God, was figured as 
 a hawk as the hieroglyphics exhibit him every- 
 where, together with the sacred eye and the 
 serpent. 
 
 " I have seen several of the amazing tombs 
 whose carved inscriptions have so long excited 
 the curiosity and ingenuity of the learned. The 
 mind is lost in contemplating their multitude and 
 in endeavouring to trace their meaning. The 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 CLARA FANE. 
 
 cities of the living and the dead in Egypt were 
 usually separated by the sacred flood of the Nile, 
 and those who had ceased to exist in one were 
 ferried over to the other ; according to their rank 
 occupying a dwelling as magnificent in the first 
 city as in the last. 
 
 " To-day I beheld my first crocodile ! amazing 
 monster ! stretched upon a sunny island, beneath 
 a palm tree, basking and enjoying his frightful 
 existence, and terrifying the traveller with his 
 deformed aspect. The sensations the sight of 
 him inspired were altogether novel and scarcely 
 disagreeable, so much charm is there in the won- 
 derful and new." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mrs. Wybrow, interrupting the 
 narrative, " thus he was always from a boy 
 delighting in adventures and daring danger. 1 
 shudder to think he was so near so hideous an 
 animal." 
 
 " But what a pleasure to have beheld it in its 
 own region, on its own throne ! " exclaimed Clara, 
 " and it is a relief too that he does not tell of 
 having shot the poor creature a piece of cruelty 
 which travellers generally remorselessly indulge 
 in." 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Wybrow resuming, " they 
 seem to have passed^ without making him their 
 enemv."
 
 CLARA FANE. 171 
 
 " I have seen the great temple of Denderah ; I 
 have beheld its famous zodiac, its wondrous porti- 
 cos, its columns the capitals of which formed 
 of female heads with the ears of horses strange 
 that such grotesque combinations should form a 
 pleasing whole, yet such is the fact, and imagine 
 the Goddess Aphodite worshipped under the form 
 of a cat and celebrated in hieroglyphics on the 
 walls as ' The Great Puss/ The comic and the 
 sublime in Egypt are certainly near of kin. 
 
 " I will tell you my impressions of the tem- 
 ple in my next. I am delighted to find that the 
 transmission of letters from every town along the 
 Nile to Grand Cairo is perfectly easy and sure. 
 The posts run from distance to distance, transfer 
 their charge to others who run on, and so the 
 way is soon passed, and my letter will thus be 
 very shortly on its journey to your hand as I 
 trust another from you is now following my 
 route." 
 
 Several more days had passed away, and Clara 
 began now to feel anxious to return to Mrs. 
 Trumble's, as she was well enough to resume her 
 duties, although she expected it would be more 
 irksome after the leisure she had enjoyed at 
 Loftus Hall, in spite of the pain that accompanied 
 it. She had found books that amused her, music 
 
 I 2
 
 172 CLARA FANE. 
 
 and pictures, and was pleased beside with the 
 place itself, which was singularly picturesque in 
 its antiquity. 
 
 " To-morrow, if you please," said Mrs. 
 Wybrovr, " I will take you back to your own 
 residence, but since your ankle allows you to 
 walk, I must no longer delay having the pleasure 
 of showing you all the curiosities of this mansion, 
 and I assure you it is rich in them. We have 
 even a good ghost legend to boast of, which is 
 rare now to be found in England since railroads 
 have scoured the country so completely of its old 
 stories." 
 
 Loftus Hall was indeed a curious specimen of 
 those sort of mansions which perhaps exist in 
 greater number in England than in other coun- 
 tries relics of a time gone by and mute evi- 
 dences of the manners of a race long past. 
 Panelled chambers with carved compartments, 
 filled with coats of arms, cornices of rich foliage, 
 ceilings with numerous bosses, depending like 
 grotto work, tapestries and gilt leather, long 
 corridors, unexpected staircases, concealed closets, 
 passages hidden behind passages, huge halls and 
 tiny oratories, oriel windows and lantern galleries. 
 
 One long room was filled with family portraits, 
 amongst which were many historical personages : 
 most of these were curious rather than well-
 
 CLARA FANE. 173 
 
 painted, but there was character and a certain 
 beauty in many. Clara paused before a group of 
 portraits which appeared, from their costume, to 
 belong to the same period. 
 
 "To these/' said Mrs. Wybrow, "attach, it is 
 said, the chief romance of this house. You ob- 
 serve the lady with the long hair, holding a ring 
 in her hand and wearing a chain round her neck, 
 she was an heiress of the Loftus family, who was 
 loved by one of the Fairfaxes, whose estates are 
 still joining to these woods. There was a political 
 feud between the fathers, it was at the time of 
 Cromwell when the land was divided against 
 itself. She eloped with Sir Arthur Fairfax and it 
 is said was afterwards poisoned by order of her 
 mother, whose portrait is beside her, that stern 
 looking lady with the long row of pearls at her 
 girdle. 
 
 " The son of the young heiress grew up and 
 his son did precisely the same thing as his grand- 
 father for he ran away with this pretty interesting 
 looking girl who is drawn playing with her dog 
 and holding a lily in her hand. She also died 
 very suddenly and left one son. It is a singular 
 thing that ever since that time, and it is now two 
 centuries ago, both in the Fairfax and Loftus family 
 the deaths are always sudden or early, one is often 
 childless while the heir of the other is an orphan.
 
 174 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Now, in the present families, Sir Anselm Fairfax 
 is childless, his young wife having died after being 
 married scarcely two years and Mr. Loftus is an 
 orphan, his father and mother having both died 
 in his infancy. 
 
 " There is an odd tradition which sets forth 
 that the spell shall never be removed till a very 
 strange event happens let me see I forget the 
 words but we shall find them engraved on one of 
 the panels in what is called the state room. It 
 is covered with a piece of tapestry which repre- 
 sents the sea in a storm with an odd looking boat 
 on it : the talent of our ancestors for designing 
 was not very remarkable." 
 
 When they reached the state room Mrs. Wy- 
 brow sought for and found the panel which Clara 
 examined with interest ; the tapestry was much 
 worn it represented the green waves of the sea 
 and between the billows a pointed boat very 
 strangely shaped ; a palm tree grew on a rock at 
 one extremity of the picture and a willow on the 
 other, but there were no signs of land besides the 
 two rocks on which these trees stood, two birds 
 were in the air with a true love knot in their 
 beaks. 
 
 On the panel were graven these words 
 
 " True love ruins, true love mends, 
 Then shall L and F be friends,
 
 CLARA FANE. 175 
 
 When the cradle is rocked by the ocean's tide. 
 And the billows sing to the baby bride." 
 
 " There is of course no meaning in this dog- 
 grel," said Mrs. Wybrow ; " but Mr. Loftus would 
 not have it removed for the world. He has odd 
 fancies about old things in his family. I wish he 
 would marry for he can afford it and it would 
 settle him and make him much happier but 
 none but poor folks marry who ought to keep 
 single." 
 
 " Is there no portrait of Mr. Loftus himself?" 
 asked Clara. 
 
 "None," replied Mrs. Wybrow; "he never 
 would sit, for he says he has no one who would 
 care for his picture, and he should be ashamed to 
 see it himself. I am sorry he does not come 
 back while you are here. I dare say he will be 
 away for months again, for though he sends 
 very strict orders about his tenantry and takes 
 care the poor shall have employ all the year round 
 he does not care to stay here himself."
 
 176 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 I do believe 'twas he ! 
 
 Othello. 
 
 WHEN Clara returned to Vernon House she could 
 not help remarking a change in the manners of 
 the partners to her, they were both more respect- 
 ful and seemed to look upon her as having gained 
 some consequence by her involuntary sojourn at 
 Loftus Hall. They received Mrs. Wybrow with 
 great distinction and when she requested to be 
 allowed to call sometimes and inquire after Clara 
 they were highly gratified. Clara felt happier 
 than she had done since she left her friend Mrs. 
 Fowler, and she could not but rejoice in the accident 
 which had procured her the friendship of Mrs. 
 Wybrow and the opportunity of smoothing the 
 way for Maria's good reception by her future 
 mother-in-law. 
 
 " Well, Miss Fane," said Miss Philippa to her
 
 CLARA FANE. 177 
 
 when they were alone ; " Clark has taken himself 
 off I'm sure neither you nor I will distress our- 
 selves much about it. He has not behaved hand- 
 somely, for I'm sure he said such things to me 
 that might have induced me to break off with 
 poor Curtis who is so mad about the accident 
 and not to be called to the Hall. I'm sure Clark 
 must have done it himself for spite." 
 
 " Do you mean that he let the horse loose ?" 
 asked Clara. 
 
 " Yes/' said she; "he is capable of it, and I'm 
 sure it was he who sent to tell Mr. Jenkins to go 
 to the Hall. So ungrateful, when Curtis was the 
 means of introducing him here and he's got a 
 good deal of employment through him. To be 
 sure he's gone off and has not waited to be paid, 
 but he'll come back or send fast enough no doubt 
 for his money." 
 
 " Did you ever see Mr. Loftus ?" asked Clara. 
 
 " Once at the county ball," said Miss Giles ; 
 he's such a handsome man ! I was to have danced 
 with him but Lady Brixtou, who wants to catch 
 him for one of her daughters, contrived that he 
 should not ask me, though I know he was dying 
 to do so." 
 
 " Is he tall ?" said Clara ; and what coloured 
 hair and eyes ?" 
 
 " Oh, he is very tall quite noble," returned 
 
 I 3
 
 178 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Miss Giles; "taller than Curtis." the young apo- 
 thecary was about five feet four. " rather high, but 
 not to the poor ; he spends a great deal of money 
 in charity. I wonder if he will come to the 
 countjr ball this year. "VVe expect our invitation 
 soon ; it always comes about this time, you can't 
 think how brilliant it is. Lady Brixton and her 
 ugly daughters are sure to be there and try and 
 get all the beaux, for she gives dinners, and men 
 are such pigs ! they would dance with anyone to 
 get a dinner ; there's nothing etherial in them, it 
 really is quite disheartening." 
 
 It was very soon after this conversation that 
 the expected tickets were received by the two 
 ladies and to their surprise an especial invitation 
 for Miss Fane. 
 
 " I suppose they think she's a parlour 
 boarder," said Mrs. Trumble; u she has such 
 fine lady airs. I can't order her about as I could 
 any other that's what provokes me ; she has such 
 a grand look and yet she speaks so soft and does 
 all one wants too. I'll turn over a new leaf with 
 her next half for I don't see why one is'nt to be 
 misses in one's own house." 
 
 " Well really now," said Miss Giles ; " its no 
 harm her looking so stylish, because it seems 
 more genteel that people should think we take a 
 parlour boarder. She's always very conformable
 
 CLARA FANE. 
 
 and is not at all a flirt, which is what I cannot 
 endure ; she never tries to attract notice and does 
 not interfere with other people's admirers." 
 
 " I don't think that she's had any opportunity, 
 for I did'nt know anyone here had admirers/' 
 retorted Mrs. Trumble. 
 
 Miss Philippa flounced out of the room in 
 great indignation at this remark and consoled 
 herself by going to look over her wardrobe in 
 order to prepare something altogether irresistable 
 against the eventful evening. 
 
 Clara was by no means glad that the invitation 
 had been extended to her, but found that it would 
 be considered a breach of all etiquette to decline 
 the honour ; she therefore submitted with a good 
 grace, and, as the period approached, felt rather 
 amused with the idea of seeing all the notabilities 
 of the county, some of whose names she had 
 heard, but few of whom she had seen. 
 
 There was Mr. Goldspin, the great speculator, 
 who lived in a magnificent house not far from 
 their village. His family consisted of two sons, 
 and of a very proud mamma, devoted to scandal 
 and a great advocate for propriety in her neigh- 
 bours. The very vulgar papa was, however, not 
 disliked in society, although his reputation 
 amongst the peasantry and the poor was by no 
 means enviable, as he practised economy in that
 
 180 CLARA FANE. 
 
 department of his dependencies rather than in 
 his own house or at his own table. His two sons 
 were both louts whom no training could improve ; 
 they disdained education and made it a jest, were 
 good shots, hard riders, and bon-vivants, and, 
 though both had been to college, they had come 
 back clowns as they went, looked upon refinement 
 as affectation and noble sentiments as "humbug" 
 and " gammon." They were red whiskered, 
 broad shouldered, square built, and noisy; one 
 almost a transcript of the other in mind, person, 
 and manners ; laughed loud and talked little, but 
 that little was uttered in an accent as broad as 
 the lowest labourer on their estate. 
 
 Mr. Jack and Mr. Ben Goldspin, for they 
 preferred being designated by their Christian 
 names, hating humbug of all sorts, were by no 
 means favourites in the county, as, independently 
 of their coarse manners, they had little credit for 
 liberality amongst their companions, wealthy as 
 they were. In fact they were, in private, usually 
 called " snobs " and " curmudgeons " by the 
 young men, and "horrid bears" and "conceited 
 louts" by the young ladies. Still, as they were 
 known to inherit good fortunes, the elder from 
 his father, and the younger from his mother, who 
 was a city tradesman's daughter and an heiress, 
 there were not wanting certain mammas who chid
 
 CLARA FANE. 181 
 
 their daughters for repulsing them, or certain 
 misses who did their utmost to attract these ex- 
 cellent partis. 
 
 Mr. Goldspin was somewhat under the con- 
 trol of his wife, but he had his own way according 
 to his own manner. He was very proud of his 
 whole establishment, his wife's diamonds, particu- 
 larly her stomacher, his wine, his mutton, his 
 house, and everything in it. He had always pro- 
 cured all he possessed in a manner more sur- 
 prising than ever happened to another person : 
 he had more carved wood, got from more extraor- 
 dinary places and belonging to more remarkable 
 personages, than any one else could boast; his 
 pictures were picked up in the most marvellous 
 ways, discovered in old shops, covered with dust, 
 and revivified by his luminous orders. 
 
 " I take," he would say, " the dirty old can- 
 vass, I have it stretched on a table before me; 
 then I make the fellows cut an onion in half, I 
 have it dipped in beer, and scour the picture well. 
 My Raphaels, my Carlo Dolcis, my Tempestas 
 look at 'em; there they are; did you ever see 
 colours brighter or shadows clearer ? Well, that's 
 my method ; I don't mind telling it." 
 
 He liked his wife to appear in her diamonds 
 as often as opportunities would permit ; conse- 
 quently she was never seen in public without
 
 182 CLARA FANE. 
 
 them. At the races, for instance, Mrs. Goldspin 
 shone in full brilliancy in the grand stand, the 
 morning sun shining on her diamond brooch and 
 the clasps of her bracelets, while her hands, as she 
 helped herself to refreshments, were one blaze. 
 
 She was fully conscious of her own dignity 
 and the importance of her own and her husband's 
 wealth, and looked down with infinite contempt 
 on most of the county families, professing also to 
 be perfectly indifferent to the notice of the aris- 
 tocracy of the neighbourhood, although her 
 assiduity, her exaltation, and servility, whenever 
 she came in contact with any of that separate 
 race, somewhat belied her professions. Her great 
 object was to suppress her city descent, avoiding 
 all allusion to it as much as possible. She had 
 many animosities and antipathies; one of the 
 chief was Lady Brixton, whose husband having 
 been Lord Mayor of London presented herself 
 with a title which obliged her to yield prece- 
 dence. She was likewise aware that Mrs. Gold- 
 spin's papa was an eminent pastry-cook who had 
 died immensely rich, and this knowledge on her 
 part was the thorn in her rival's side ; so that when 
 they encountered it was rare that thunders did 
 not ensue, for Lady Brixton lost no opportunity 
 of alluding to the veiy topic most dreaded by her 
 contemporary.
 
 CLARA FANE. 183 
 
 Lady Brixton was a large, stout, bustling 
 woman, with ruddy neck, shoulders, and elbows, 
 of the most ample dimensions. She had na- 
 turally a very high colour which was heightened, 
 or, as she thought, softened by rouge ; she wore 
 her own black hair in a profusion of ringlets, and 
 prided herself on looking as- young as her daugh- 
 ters, two of whom were out and two still in the 
 nursery. Her late husband, the Lord Mayor, 
 had left her very rich, so that she could compete 
 with Mrs. Goldspin in any expense, which was 
 extremely annoying to the latter. She professed 
 to hold parvenus in contempt, talked of her own 
 old city family, and her ambition was to ally one 
 of her daughters, at least, with the aristocracy. 
 
 " None of your monied upstarts for me," said 
 she ; " my gals shall marry amongst the best in 
 the land. Fve given 'em a good edication and 
 they needn't turn their backs on any one for 
 whatever money can buy." 
 
 These daughters were daring, dashing girls, 
 rather handsome on a coarse scale ; they rode out 
 with the hounds, cleared gates and fences with 
 the best hunters, and could dance all night after- 
 wards. 
 
 " They're none of your hothouse plants," the 
 mother would say, " but all health and spirits. I'd 
 match my gals against any in town or country for
 
 184 CLARA FANE. 
 
 following a fox, or playing on the harp ; for work- 
 ing in Berlin wool, or cutting up a turkey; and 
 that's what few can say now-a-days." 
 
 These were some of the notables of the neigh- 
 bourhood : but there were other families of a 
 higher grade whose pedestals were placed in more 
 exalted niches : there were the Nettlebeds of 
 Nettlebed Park, very stern and stately, an old 
 name in the county extremely limited and select 
 in their society; the Kingswoods of Kings- 
 wood, whose house outvied the oaks of their park 
 in antiquity; and, above all, there was the illus- 
 trious family of Lord Derrington, who lived in 
 the ancient mansion of their ancestors at Coombe 
 Place, a monastic-looking house in a romantic 
 hollow amongst the hills, surrounded by large 
 trees. The old lord was a very dignified man who 
 seldom visited anyone, and when encountered 
 sometimes on the road solemnly pacing along, 
 mounted on his black charger, he gave the idea 
 of as grim a baron as feudal times could present. 
 
 Lady Derrington, if described by Mrs. Gold- 
 spin, who had a great respect for jewels and fine 
 clothes and found a difficulty in comprehending 
 v hy she should feel a respect for anyone who did 
 not exhibit either, would have been represented 
 as too plain for her rank both in her manners and 
 her appearance.
 
 CLARA FANE. 185 
 
 " Why, her whole dress/' observed that lady 
 to her husband, "is not worth so much as my 
 last new apron from Paris. I wonder her lady- 
 ship likes to go about such a figure. I wouldn't 
 be seen in the scanty old gowns she wears ; and 
 I can't think it in character to wait upon people 
 as she does in her own house. The last time I 
 called I met her, as T crossed the hall, carrying a 
 glass of wine and a sandwich in a plate to that 
 sick girl of Saunder's, who was sitting on a chair 
 there by the fire. She did look a little ashamed 
 when she saw me, and well she might ; she apo- 
 logised by saying the servants were at dinner, as 
 if the girl couldn't have waited till they had 
 done." 
 
 Although this account of Lady Derrington's 
 conduct was perfectly true, even Mrs. Goldspin 
 was obliged to confess that she was remarkably 
 courteous and pleasing in her manner, and yet 
 possessed an air of dignity which prevented intru- 
 sion or undue familiarity. 
 
 " I don't understand how it is," would Mrs. 
 Goldspin remark, " she isn't a bit proud, but yet 
 I can never say my whole mind to her as I can to 
 such upstarts as Lady Brixton ; there is some- 
 thing so quiet and yet commanding about her 
 that I am never able to get through any story 
 I begin about the neighbours when I do it to
 
 186 CLARA FANE. 
 
 put her on her guard and keep up one's own 
 dignity so as to keep the county select. Now, 
 Miss Clinton I am sure is proud in spite of 
 her humble airs one can see it shining through 
 I don't attempt to understand her'' 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Godspin was not formed by 
 nature or cultivation to understand the character 
 of the Honorable Miss Isabella Clinton, the sole 
 surviving child of Lord Derrington, and as she 
 did not desire to be comprehended in certain 
 quarters she perhaps gave but little opportunity 
 for the study to some to her neighbours. 
 
 She was, in fact, not "of them" and though 
 she occasionally appeared amongst them it was 
 merely as a passer by, without a desire to linger 
 in their vicinity more than necessity commanded, 
 alhtough at the same time without a wish to 
 impress persons who were quite indifferent to her, 
 with any idea of her superiority either in rank or 
 intellect. 
 
 Miss Clinton was no longer positively young, 
 that is to say, she was past thirty, and no longer 
 made pretensions to take her place with the youth- 
 ful or the admired. The loss of several brothers 
 and sisters, to whom she had been tenderly 
 attached, had, by degrees, influenced her mind 
 in such a manner as to withdraw it from those 
 considerations and amusements which generally
 
 CLARA FANE. 187 
 
 cling to an age much more advanced than her 
 own. 
 
 She had accustomed herself to look upon the 
 affairs of love that engrossing occupation of the 
 young as belonging to others rather than her- 
 self, and if she might occasionally have experi- 
 enced a feeling approaching preference for any 
 particular individual it soon passed away when 
 she found that, owing to the habitual indifference 
 she exhibited, she had failed to attract the notice 
 which might have decided the bent of her in- 
 clinations. 
 
 She came, at length, to a somewhat false con- 
 clusion that she was not formed either to feel 
 or inspire an exclusive attachment; and though 
 she was not a disbeliever in the existence of a 
 passion which every-day experience proves can 
 exercise such extraordinary influence over the 
 destinies of the world, she regarded it as some- 
 thing unconnected with her own being, and only 
 to be looked at philosophically in reference to 
 others. 
 
 Her abstract idea of love was, perhaps, too 
 full of purity and perfection for her ever to find 
 it reality, and she often started with surprise to 
 discover how incorrect had been her judgment of 
 the feelings of another when she saw that the 
 failings which were so palpable to her view were
 
 188 CLARA FANE. 
 
 not only invisible to that of others but were 
 transformed, on the contrary, to advantages. She 
 expected too much, both for herself and her 
 friends, and was disappointed ; but this was so far 
 from spoiling her temper or chilling her heart 
 that she was always ready to enter into the his- 
 tory of another's joys and sorrows, to give her 
 sympathy, and to take an interest in those trials 
 which she, in her own person, had no knowledge 
 of. 
 
 " The world," she would say, " appears to me 
 to make half its woes ; they are first created and 
 then deplored. Impulse is followed and reason 
 and reflection are neglected. The first act in love 
 is to encourage romantic visions and to increase 
 their colouring by every possible means instead of 
 viewing things in a calm light without the sun- 
 gilding which makes all objects, however insignifi- 
 cant, appear glorious. We live in a region of 
 illusion, and we think it our happiness not to 
 withdraw the veil; as every one is of the same 
 mind it is of no use to contend, but though I do 
 not partake of the bewilderment I have no desire 
 to become a Cassandra." 
 
 It resulted that Miss Clinton was generally 
 liked and always admired for her fine qualities 
 and excellent heart, but none of her male friends 
 seemed to think that she expected to receive fur-
 
 ^ 
 
 CLARA FANE. 189 
 
 tlier homage, and none of her female friends 
 appeared to contemplate the possibility of her 
 entering the lists with them. 
 
 This family of Lord Derrington was of real 
 mark in the county, the rest were such as are 
 common in all country neighbourhoods. 
 
 There were several young clergymen, some of 
 good families, who made up the beaux at a ball or 
 party, and sometimes they were recruited by a 
 few officers from the adjacent towns, who were 
 willing to dissipate the ennui of their country 
 quarters' existence by patronising the society. It 
 must be confessed that these generally preferred 
 the good dinners and flirting daughters of Lady 
 Brixtoii to the esteemed formal, and more digni- 
 fied hospitality of Coombe Place, although with- 
 out having been received there they were not 
 invited to the ambitious widow's, who declared 
 that she had an objection to "rubbish" and "no- 
 bodies." 
 
 On occasions like a race or county ball, there 
 were generally some stranger friends of all these 
 personages who ran down from London by the 
 train to spend a few days with their friends, and 
 these were of course most welcome visitors and 
 made much of accordingly. 
 
 On the appointed night Clara had an opportu- 
 nity of seeing all this society brought together in
 
 190 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the town-hall of the principal neighbouring town, 
 and, as Mrs. Trumble's party went early, she was 
 able to take her seat in a convenient position to 
 observe the company as they severally arrived. 
 
 The room was handsome, spacious, and well- 
 lighted, adorned with a profusion of fine flowers,, 
 and well-arranged in every respect. As the 
 evening was warm and genial, and the moon was 
 at the full, preparations had been made that it 
 should be enjoyed. Two temporary rooms and 
 several long balconies were filled with shrubs and 
 flowers, and the windows were left open to them, 
 so that these were retreats for flirtations and a 
 resource from heat, both indispensable requisites 
 in a well-regulated ball-room. 
 
 The stewards flourished about with white bows 
 in their coats, and introductions and welcomes 
 abounded ; by degrees the room became filled 
 with "beauty and fashion/' and the animation 
 increased, as the awe of some and the stiffness of 
 others wore off. 
 
 Mrs. Trumble soon found acquaintances and 
 exchanged greetings, and Miss Philippa was gra- 
 tified, after waiting some time in much anxiety 
 lest her rose-coloured crape should prove unat- 
 tractive, by being asked to dance by Mr. Freeman 
 the lawyer, an unmarried man, called handsome 
 in his circle. Clara remained a spectatrice,
 
 CLARA FANE. 191 
 
 her sprained ankle affording her a pretext for 
 declining to dance when solicited to do so by 
 several attentive stewards, by whom her beauty 
 had not passed unnoticed : she prefered seating 
 herself near an open window, partially concealed 
 by flowers and curtains, having induced Mrs. 
 Trumble to remove her seat there, and to leave 
 her in seclusion, when she occasionally took a 
 turn in the room with her different friends. 
 
 Presently her attention was drawn to a noisy 
 party in a balcony behind her, and the loud voices 
 of the Brixton family made their vicinity known. 
 
 " I say, Kate," cried the eldest Miss Brixton 
 to her sister, " the captain swears he came down 
 in the train with young Loftus ; now I tell him 
 he doesn't know what he's talking about. If he 
 was down at the Hall we should see him here to- 
 night, for what could he come for but to be at the 
 ball. He's a snob not to have been here before, 
 but we've contrived to do well enough without 
 him, haven't we, captain ?" 
 
 A very good-looking, high-coloured, mous- 
 tachied, young man, in a handsome cavalry uni- 
 form, replied to this in a rumbling voice, inter- 
 rupted by frequent laughter, 
 
 " Why, yes, I flatter myself, ha ! ha ! we can 
 get on pretty well without the assistance of coun- 
 try gentlemen, ha ! ha ! we haven't been in India
 
 192 CLARA FANE. 
 
 ha ! ha ! to be melted away by the brightness of 
 Derbyshire sun. I give you my honour, Miss 
 Constantia, that I find your country a horrid 
 bore, ha ! ha ! a deuced bore, indeed ; how diffe- 
 rent from our balls in London, isn't it, best 
 adored ? If it wasn't for Lady B.'s capital din- 
 ners and her lovely daughter's perfections, I give 
 you my honour I must cut this sort of thing. 
 Let us dance, my divinity, and forget it." 
 
 " I won't dance a quadrille," replied Constan- 
 tia, " I told"you so before ; I came into this bal- 
 cony on purpose to have a bit of fun, and I hate 
 that stupid formal dancing no spirit, no life : 
 give me a good whirling polka aud a good crowd 
 to whisk through. If one can knock down half- 
 a dozen dummies so much the better." 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" repeated the officer, " I give you 
 my word you're inimitable ! you're deuced inimi- 
 table. Let us quiz the boors, my adorable ; how 
 can you exist in a spot where such creatures as 
 these for instance resort ? What is the cognomen 
 of that uncouth monster leading forth that ogress 
 in pink ?" 
 
 "That," cried Miss Constantia, "oh, that 
 wretch is Ben Goldspin, dancing with some girl 
 whose father has a vote. He's such-a mercenary 
 wretch ; he gave a dinner the other day without 
 champagne ; think of that with a pocket -full of 
 gold!"
 
 CLARA FANE. 193 
 
 " I trust he won't invite me to such feeds/' 
 replied the officer ; " my dear girl, it makes one 
 sick to think of it." 
 
 " Good gracious I" cried Miss Kate, rushing 
 up to her sister ; " there he is ; I said so." 
 
 " Lord ! Kate, what a bawling you make," 
 returned the sister ; " who do you mean ; one 
 would think you'd seen a ghost." 
 
 " Why, so I have, for I've seen Loftus," 
 exclaimed Miss Kate, " and here's mamma in full 
 sail to tell us." 
 
 In effect, Lady Brixton came sweeping up at 
 the moment, calling out 
 
 "Now, gals, didn't I tell you he'd never let the 
 ball go off without having a shot amongst you. 
 Here's young Loftus, sure enough. Now, Kate, 
 you come with me, for I see Stanny is better 
 engaged." 
 
 Miss Kate followed her mother, and Clara's eyes 
 followed them to an open door, where stood a figure 
 which she could not for a moment mistake : it 
 was no other than the false Mr. Clark and the 
 acquaintance of Rose Cottage. He was standing 
 leaning against a pillar, and looking round him 
 with an expression on his face almost of contempt, 
 which he changed almost instantly to one of 
 cheerfulness as Lady Brixton appi'oached him, 
 dragging her willing daughter with her. 
 
 VOL. 1. K
 
 194 CLARA FANE 
 
 " Well, who'd have thought to see you here/' 
 cried the lady putting out both her hands, "I'm sure 
 we are delighted that you thought proper to come 
 after all ; but what a shabby trick to keep us in 
 the dark so. Law ! Kate has asked after you so 
 often when will he come, ma ! where can he be, 
 ma ! till I'm quite glad to get rid of her ques- 
 tions." 
 
 " Miss Kate does me great honour," said Mr. 
 Loftus ; " will she prove the truth of her friendly 
 expressions of anxiety by dancing with me ?" 
 
 " To be sure she will/' cried the mother, " and 
 only too glad." 
 
 Mr. Loftus led away the highly-dressed, hand- 
 some Kate, and a polka began, which caused 
 the couple in the balcony to burst forth and join 
 the tumultous assembly Avithout, More than once 
 Mr. Loftus and his partner whirled past Clara as 
 she sat, but no glance towards her told that she 
 was recognized. The dance over, Mr. Loftus led 
 his partner to the very balcony near where she 
 remained, and when he passed she was obliged to 
 move her chair to give way to the pair as they 
 took their seats close to her. 
 
 " And what have you been doing in the coun- 
 try for this age ?" asked he of his companion. 
 
 " Oh, the same things as usual," replied Miss 
 Kate, "riding and driving, dancing and flirting,
 
 CLARA FANE. 195 
 
 by turns : that's the way to enjoy life. But where 
 have you been ? no one has seen you for an age ; 
 some said you had drowned yourself for love, and 
 others that you were married." 
 
 " Love and marriage !" exclaimed he, "what 
 a strange combination ! How could you suppose 
 me guilty of either ; yet you separate them svell 
 too, for you accuse me of love in one instance and 
 marriage in another." 
 
 " I don't accuse you, mind," answered the 
 lady ; " I only go by hearsay, and since you keep 
 out of the way I've a right to believe anything." 
 
 " Believe anything, dear Miss Kate," replied 
 her partner, " but that love has existence, or that 
 marriage is to be desired. ' To a nunnery go.' '' 
 
 " Law bless me, how you go on !" said Miss 
 Kate ; " I never mean to turn nun ; I ain't even 
 a Puseyite yet ; it'll be time enough for me when 
 I look as pale and meagre as Miss Clinton : how 
 can she dance with that booby, Jack Goldspin ; I 
 declare I thought she'd more pride." 
 
 " Oh, never believe in the pride of woman," 
 returned her companion ; " woman only acts upon 
 caprice, never on principle ; she will spurn a man 
 to-day and fawn upon him to-morrow." 
 
 " You're grown quite a woman-hater, I de- 
 clare, Mr. Loftus," said Miss Kate. 
 
 c( I should be a woman-worshipper," replied 
 
 K 2
 
 196 CLARA FANE. 
 
 he, " if your sex were not so perverse. Come, 
 let me take you to the supper- room; you must 
 require a little ambrosia after so much exertion. 
 I dare say you have danced all the evening." 
 
 " To be sure I have, and so has Stanny," 
 answered she ; " what does one come to a ball 
 for? Well, I'm so glad you came; it's such fun. 
 You'll give us a party at the Hall, I know," she 
 added, archly. 
 
 Mr. Loftus laughed heartily, and he rose to 
 conduct his partner, passing Clara again : his foot 
 touched her dress as he moved along, he turned 
 and bowed apologetically but without appearing 
 to be aware who was sitting there, and continued 
 to chat and laugh with his partner till both were 
 lost in the crowd. 
 
 Clara saw him several times again during the 
 evening, but he did not seem to know her; he 
 spoke to Miss Giles in the supper-room, and even 
 handed her a seat while Clara stood beside her, 
 but he did not in any way betray a consciousness 
 of her presence. 
 
 "La!" said Miss Philippa, "I thought Mr. 
 Loftus would have said something about your 
 accident, Miss Fane, and ask you how you were. 
 I suppose he doesn't know you in your ball dress 
 oh, here he comes again with Mrs. Goldspin on 
 his arm, I'll get you introduced if you like."
 
 CLARA FANE. 197 
 
 " Not for the world/' exclaimed Clara, laying 
 her hand on Miss Philip pa's arm to arrest her ; 
 " I would much rather not." 
 
 " Well, it seems ungrateful in you, after he 
 took such care of you too," said Miss Philippa. 
 " Well, he certainly is very handsome what eyes 
 he has as if he'd look one through, and then 
 such a presence ! How pleased that proud Mrs. 
 Groldspin looks to be noticed by him ; she has 
 never bowed to us the whole evening, and always 
 pretends to be near-sighted. She's staring now 
 full at Lady Brixton as if she didn't see her 
 good gracious ! if the two are not going to quar- 
 rel we shall be lucky."
 
 198 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Roxaiia and Statira! they are names 
 That must for ever jar. 
 
 When they encounter 
 Thunders should ensue. 
 
 Lee. 
 
 "VYlio is the maid my spirit seeks ? 
 
 St. Jerome. 
 
 THE rivals, meantime, were standing face to face, 
 too close to carry on the pretence of not seeing 
 each other, which, indeed, Mr. Loftus seemed 
 resolved to prevent by purposely putting them in 
 each other's way. 
 
 "What a mixture we have to-night," said 
 Mrs. Goldspin haughtily ; " 1 wonder there isn't 
 a better regulation about people being admitted 
 to these balls ; one doesn't know who one may 
 meet." 
 
 " Ah ! my dear Lady Brixtou," exclaimed Mr. 
 Loftus, still holding the arm of her rival, " there
 
 CLARA FANE. 199 
 
 you are again. I have been, looking for you to 
 congratulate you on the looks of both your 
 daughters ; they improve every time I see them. 
 I was just telling Mrs. Goldspin I thought so." 
 
 The two ladies bowed to each other as stiffly 
 as possible, not being able to avoid it as he thus 
 associated them, but they looked daggers at each 
 other. 
 
 " I am thinking," continued Mr. Loftus, " of 
 profiting by a friendly hint thrown out by Miss 
 Kate, and trying to get up a breakfast at my old 
 ruined hall. If I might depend on you both to 
 do the honours for me I would venture on asking 
 the beauties of the county to enliven my melan- 
 choly shades." 
 
 " What ! kick up a hop \" screamed Lady 
 Brixton, " and the gardens all so beautiful at this 
 season. Well, my Kate has a spirit she knew 
 who she was talking to when she gave her hint 
 sly puss ! Law ! how glad the gals will be. To 
 be sure, as far as regards me, I'll do my best to 
 make things go off well and on well too." 
 
 " You do not reply, my dear Mrs. Goldspin," 
 said Mr. Loftus aside to the lady; "I hope I may 
 reckon also on you. You know," said he, in a 
 confidential tone, "it will be to you I should 
 chiefly look one of the first county families, one 
 who knows all the best society, with your experi-
 
 CLARA FANE. 
 
 ence, too, of what a fete should be ; your taste 
 and Lady Brixton's spirits," he added, turning 
 to her, " with these I shall be certain to succeed. 
 We poor bachelors, you know, are such helpless 
 beings, without the help of beauty." 
 
 "Ah \" cried Lady Brixton, tapping him 
 with her fan, " you're a deceiver ; you could 
 easily remedy that evil if you liked with all the 
 girls dying for you." 
 
 " Well, I may rely on both, then," said Mr. 
 Loftus, "it's a bargain. Now, then, I must go 
 and make friends at Coombe Place, and secure 
 other patronage. I dared not do so till I was sure 
 of my two chief allies." 
 
 So saying, he bowed, and left the two ladies 
 together. 
 
 " We shall be sure of plenty of champagne," 
 said Lady Brixton, sarcastically, " and everything 
 done in style at Loftus Hall ; nothing like your 
 true aristocracy for doing things well ; no skimp- 
 ing nor screwing there. How well your two sons 
 are looking to-night, ma'am," added she, with 
 affected interest." 
 
 Mrs. Goldspin bit her lip, the sarcasm on the 
 champagne having succeeded. " Mr. Loftus was 
 saying the same of your young ladies," replied 
 she ; " how is Miss Constantia after her fall the 
 other day? I was always afraid she might suffer
 
 CLARA FANE. 201 
 
 from such dangerous rides. They tell me she 
 pulled the fox out of the hole herself; it was a 
 daring thing to do ; suppose it had bit her ! I 
 wonder the captain let her expose herself so. 
 When is that to take place, my lady ! We all 
 know it's to be." 
 
 " Do you mean Stanny's marriage with Cap- 
 tain Brighty \" replied my lady ; " the world's 
 very fond of knowing other people's concerns; 
 some say Kate's to be Mrs. Loftus too ; we shall 
 see what'll happen in time ; stranger things have 
 turned up. Whenever my daughters do marry 
 it'll be to real gentlemen anyhow. None of your 
 make-believes, all glitter and no substance, nor 
 none of your country boors neither that's just 
 as bad. Give me good birth and old aristocracy ; 
 that's what they with their fortunes and faces may 
 look to. I'm of as good a City of London family 
 myself as any in England, and I'm not ashamed 
 to own it. We didn't get our money speculating, 
 but in fair trade, like true-born Britons. What's 
 the country without the city I should like to 
 know ? We are the pillars of the state after all. 
 As your poor dear father used to say to mine 
 when he was serving him out a basin of soup 
 behind the counter, for my father often stopped 
 as he was going to 'Change, and took something at 
 his shop to encourage him a bit in his beginning ; 
 
 K 3
 
 202 CLARA FANE. 
 
 ' we tradesmen/ said he, ' are the comer-stories 
 that support the fabric : it would soon crumble 
 away, like pie-crust, if it wasn't for us/ and my 
 father used to pay his sixpence and say, joking, 
 ' you'll puff yourself into notice some day.' ' ; 
 
 " I was too young at that time," said Mrs. 
 Goldspin, fuming and fanning herself, " to know 
 anything of mercantile affairs ; my sphere was 
 soon elevated, and I never care to be reminded of 
 things so far back, which circumstances have since 
 effaced. Worth in my opinion is everything ; as 
 to birth I have a contempt for it. I should like 
 to know which is best an empty title or a full 
 purse. As long as I can open the one I care little 
 for the pride of the other." 
 
 At this moment the rivals were accosted by 
 the grave and dignified Lord Derrington, on whose 
 arm hung his stately daughter. He had laid aside 
 much of his pomp for the evening, and was in a 
 humour to be condescending. He accosted the 
 two ladies with friendly familiarity, and having 
 offered his arm to Mrs. Goldspin, inviting her to 
 promenade, he requested Lady Brixton to take 
 care of his daughter till her partner, Mr. Loftus, 
 .came to claim her. 
 
 The exultation of the diamond-stomachered 
 lady, as she sailed along the room on the arm of 
 the Lord, could not be concealed, and Lady Brix-
 
 CLARA FANE. 203 
 
 ton watched her with malicious eyes as she fol- 
 lowed with Miss Clinton, whose quiet subdued 
 manner at once awed her into a tone more in 
 accordance with the rank of her present com- 
 panion, 
 
 " Do you know who that very graceful girl 
 is?" asked Miss Clinton, looking at Clara, who 
 was walking with Mrs. Trumble just before them. 
 " I have seen her, I am sure, before. Did she 
 not meet with some accident at the Well-flowering ; 
 I think it is the same, though she looks paler than 
 I thought her then." 
 
 " Law ; I did hear of the accident/' said 
 Lady Brixton, " and she was taken to the Hall 
 and nursed by Mrs. Wybrow. I see her at church 
 every Sunday with the school ; I suppose she's 
 a parlour boarder." 
 
 " She is very superior looking," said Miss 
 Clinton; " let us speak to Mrs. Trumble ; I know 
 her but little, but will make an excuse. I should 
 like to be acquainted with that young person ; she 
 pleases me." 
 
 The next time they met, Miss Clinton bowed 
 to Mrs. Trumble, who stopped, extremely grati- 
 fied at the notice taken of her. 
 
 " I believe we are old acquaintances," said 
 Miss Clinton ; " I was formerly admitted to your 
 school-room to hear Mr. GlibwelFs lectures. Is
 
 204 CLARA FANE. 
 
 he likely soon to come again ? I hope you will 
 patronize him as you did before ; I hear he is in 
 the county, and lecturing on poetry and geology. 
 Will you permit me to attend his lectures if he 
 should come." 
 
 " Only too proud, I'm sure, madam/' replied 
 Mrs. Trumble, getting very red and agitated in 
 the nasal feature, which always showed her 
 feelings. 
 
 " I hope," said Miss Clinton, addressing Clara, 
 as they walked side by side along the room, " you 
 have recovered your accident. Am I not right in 
 thinking it was you whom Mrs. Wybrow took 
 away in her carriage at the Well-flowering ? I 
 am afraid you will think us country folks very 
 rough and careless to occasion you so much fear, 
 and pain too." 
 
 " Miss Fane, I'm sure, madam, is very much 
 obliged to you/' said Mrs. Trumble. 
 
 Clara answered for herself with thanks for her 
 kind inquiries, and by degrees they became 
 acquainted, pursuing their promenade together, 
 and leaving Mrs. Trumble to the honour of com- 
 panionship with Lady Brixton. 
 
 They took seats, after a time, in the balcony 
 where they could now look on the full beauty of 
 the moonlight. 
 
 "How enjoyable/' said Miss Clinton, "are
 
 CLARA FANE. 205 
 
 such nights as these, in England ; besides their 
 own beauty they recal that of other regions, where 
 summer has a longer and a more powerful reign. 
 I have enjoyed such at Venice, on the broad 
 lagune : and at Como, on that enchanting lake, yet 
 this fine blaze of glory, even though it is reflected 
 only on the houses and chimneys of a town, re- 
 minds me of scenes of greater beauty and has its 
 own charm besides." 
 
 " Nature and her accessories," said Clara, 
 " exercise the same spell everywhere. One can, 
 with the help of a little fancy, transform those 
 distant roofs into mountains, those, spires into icy 
 peaks, and those dim streets into shadowy vallies 
 what would be too much revealed in the glare 
 of sunshine this mysterious moonlight shrouds in 
 uncertainty and lends interest to." 
 
 " Sunshine is like everyday existence, it makes 
 the truth too evident and renders commonplace 
 what the moon invests with a solemn mystery, 
 which must be studied to be understood," replied 
 Miss Clinton, " what we comprehend at a glance 
 interests us no more ; it is that which presents 
 some difficulties to the imagination which leads 
 one on with pleasure. Like the study of the 
 German language startling at first from its diffi- 
 culty, but opening, when once the veil is withdrawn, 
 a world of new light and enjoyment. Even the
 
 206 CLARA FANE. 
 
 uncouth sounds that at first shock the ear become 
 musical when their full meaning is understood. 
 No wonder the Germans are the best translators 
 of the Eastern poets, their genius is so similar." 
 
 " How well Von Hammer had rendered for 
 instance/' said Clara, " the dispute between day 
 and night, so ingeniously set forth by the Persian 
 poet." 
 
 " Ah, I remember it" cried Miss Clinton with 
 animation, " where poor night is called ' negro 
 face' and loaded with abuse by envious day." 
 
 " It might after all," said Clara, smiling, " re- 
 quire the great Schah himself to decide to which 
 the palm of superiority should be given." 
 
 "I range myself on the side of night, posi- 
 tively," said Miss Clinton, " and shall hope often 
 to have an opportunity to continue the contempla- 
 tion of it with you. I hope our acquaintance, 
 though begun in a perfect blaze of light, will not 
 the less endure. I fear my partner will be search- 
 ing for me now ; therefore must say adieu till we 
 meet again. I assure you, Miss Fane, I cannot 
 resolve to relinquish easily, so rare an advantage 
 as a pleasing companion in the midst of our 
 solitudes." 
 
 As Miss Clinton stepped from the balcony at 
 the sound of the music, which roused all the 
 loungers, Clara saw Mr. Loftus approaching; he
 
 CLARA FANE. 207 
 
 entered immediately into an animated conversa- 
 tion with his new partner, without appearing to be 
 in the least acquainted with her vicinity. Pre- 
 sently the quadrille begun, and she saw them no 
 more. She was not alone long; for she was 
 joined in her retreat by Mrs. Goldspin, who hav- 
 . ing observed Miss Clinton talking familiarly with 
 her, was suddenly seized with a desire to make 
 her acquaintance. 
 
 " May I beg you, Miss, to lend me your fan ?" 
 said she, in a very respectful tone, " I see you are 
 not using it, and I have just broke mine ; Lord 
 Derrington was so kind as to pick up the sticks 
 of it, which I contrived to snap as I was convers- 
 ing with him. A charming nobleman is Lord 
 Derrington, isn't he Miss ?" 
 
 Clara bowed, without attending to the latter 
 remark, which she saw clearly was intended as a 
 leading question to discover hoAv far she was inti- 
 mate with the family ; she gave her own fan with 
 ready good nature, regretting that Mrs. Goldspin 
 had broken her own. 
 
 " Ah !" said the lady, " I don't mind about 
 it, though it did cost a great deal ; those sort of 
 fans are so expensive, but I have several others all 
 as good, for I never wear anything shabby or pal- 
 try ; indeed, as Mr. Goldspin says, why should I 
 with his, fortune? and I think when one possesses
 
 208 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the blessing of wealth the least one can do is to 
 spend it." 
 
 " Certainly/' said Clara, " wealth is a blessing 
 when it falls into generous hands. Providence 
 gives it in trust to be well used for the benefit of 
 others." 
 
 "Exactly so/' replied Mrs. Goldspin, faceti- 
 ously, " and a little for oneself too, I think, is no 
 harm. One should encourage trade, particularly 
 these sad times when so many poor creatures are 
 out of work. I'm sure the money we spend in 
 this county is unknown, but I never grudge it, 
 for, as Mr. Goldspin observes, it is sure to tell one 
 way or other, and if the poor were not supported 
 by the rich where would the rich be in the end ! 
 why, they would rise and try to better themselves 
 at our expense." 
 
 At this moment, Mr. Jack Goldspin made his 
 appearance, and addressing his mother with a 
 lively air, called out 
 
 "Oh, you're there old girl, are you? Ben 
 and I thought it time to cut our sticks ; we've had 
 enough of humbug. We're going home to a jolly 
 supper after all these flim flams, only fit for butter- 
 flies. Come along ; I'm sure you don't want to 
 stay any longer." 
 
 " My dear Jack," said his mother reprovingly, 
 " don't be so wild ; I was talking philosophy to
 
 CLARA FANE. 209 
 
 this young lady, a particular friend of the 
 Honourable Miss Clinton's, when you interrupt 
 us with your exuberant spirits." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks ! begging the lady's pardon/' 
 replied Mr. Jack ; " I dare say she's a woman of 
 sense, and would rather have plain English than 
 such jargon. Philosophy! what's the use of such 
 humbug ; it won't clear a five-barred gate, I'll be 
 bound, nor cut a field of wheat, nor fatten pigs. 
 What do you know about it, mother, I wonder/' 
 
 " You are so droll, dear ! " returned the mo- 
 ther, and turning to Clara, and introducing him, 
 she added, " my son, Mr. John Goldspin ; I'm 
 sure you'll like his frankness ; he and his brother 
 are all nature; quite diamonds in the rough, as 
 my lord says." 
 
 " We're all in the diamond way, aint we, 
 mother?" exclaimed her son, attempting to be 
 witty, and succeeding according to his mottier's 
 notions of the commodity. 
 
 " Why, I will say, John/' replied she, " that 
 as far as diamonds go, I do flatter myself that 
 there are not many in the county can make the 
 show I can. All belonging to our family, miss, 
 descending from mother to daughter." 
 
 " No doubt," said Clara ; " they appear to be 
 very fine /' but her eye, as she spoke, was seeking 
 Mrs. Trumble, for she began to weary of the
 
 210 CLARA FANE. 
 
 entertainment, and to hope it was nearly con- 
 cluded. 
 
 She saw Mr. Loftus no more, and as soon as 
 Miss Philippa could be persuaded to relinquish 
 her last chance of another beau, she willingly 
 departed from the scene of festivity, and was not 
 sorry to find herself once more in her own small 
 room, which she was obliged, for the present, to 
 consider home. 
 
 " He is," she mused, " indeed, a singular cha- 
 racter wilful and capricious, intrusive and retiring, 
 at once. I cannot see his motive in seeking me 
 under obstacles and avoiding me when they no 
 longer exist. However, he and his conduct are quite 
 indifferent to me, at least they would be so but for 
 the obligation he forced on me, but Mrs. Wybrow 
 said he did not like to be thanked." 
 
 Mr. Loftus, soon after the scene described, 
 wrote thus to one of his most intimate friends : 
 
 " No one better than yourself knows how 
 little I am subject to be carried away by enthu- 
 siasm. You know, in fact, that I am more 
 inclined to ridicule as infirmity that proneness to 
 admire which belongs to others ; you have seen me 
 coldly examine grace and beauty and ask why 
 they made such vivid impressions on some minds 
 to ask a reason for this fact was proving at once that
 
 CLARA FANE. 211 
 
 I had not arrived at the power of comprehending 
 the power that subdued the wisest. I do not 
 confess to you that I am now as weak as those 
 whom I formerly condemned, but I am beginning 
 to understand the possibility of passion getting 
 the better of reason, and I am now occupied in 
 striving to subdue the tendency. 
 
 " To say ( I love ' is a folly, and means I am 
 content to be a fool ; one should rather say I am 
 yielding to impressions ; accept then a confession 
 from me. I have seen a person who appears to be 
 the ideal I have sought so long,. It is not that 
 she has more beauty, more genius, more taste, 
 grace, or wisdom, than many I have known, but 
 1 feel myself more ready to acknowledge these 
 qualities in her. 1 fear, indeed, that I create 
 some of them, and that is the reason 1 distrust 
 myself. 
 
 " I have seldom heard her speak, and, if I 
 have, it has generally been in an accent of 
 offence or restraint, with indifference or coldness ; 
 nevertheless, she appears to me overflowing with 
 sense, tenderness, goodness, and sensibility. She 
 has no reason to prefer me, except for the same 
 cause that she attracts me. 
 
 ' Parceque je suis moi, et qu'elle est elle.' 
 "You well know that there is not much romance
 
 212 CLARA FANE. 
 
 iu my composition, yet I like that my life should 
 be carried on like a romance, and I enjoy being 
 placed in the position of those active and resolute 
 personages, who, at all hazards, will create around 
 them a world of action. As I know that, in spite 
 of every precaution, the best laid plans of life are 
 destroyed in an instant by the merest accident, I 
 desire to give full career to events which I cannot 
 control, and if I am supine myself, to let action 
 influence me. 
 
 " Does this sound like nonsense ? I suspect 
 so, but you have always been indulgent to me, and 
 since you are, in some sort, the cause of my pre- 
 sent feeling 
 
 * Call it madness call it folly.' 
 
 you must endure the full weight of my weakness, 
 " There are, say philosophers, two sorts of 
 denouemens in the drama of life marriage and 
 death : of the latter we are certain, whether we 
 will or no ; the other, perhaps, we can avoid if we 
 try, and I have always wished to do so. I am 
 striving hard still, for which reason I do nothing 
 to seduce, to charm, to attract. I absent myself 
 from the beloved presence, that is, I intend in 
 future to do so : I believe I took originally a bad 
 method of presenting myself; it may turn out a 
 fatal one.
 
 CLARA FANE. 213 
 
 " If the stars have no influence on our actions 
 how came it that she and I should encounter each 
 other as we did at your fantastic abode at Twick- 
 enham, where all was vision and imagination ? 
 You cannot have forgotten the new face, disco- 
 vered and produced by La Frilletta, to make a 
 moment's sport the beautiful girl, who sang so 
 well 
 
 " Where was she picked up ? I, whose code 
 has been the sublimity of uncertainty, now desire 
 to ascertain so trivial a fact. I have all the 
 respect due to your fascinating quasi sister-in-law, 
 who amuses you, and ' does her spiriting gently/ 
 but I should prefer not choosing a wife offered me 
 by her. 
 
 " This, you will think, suspicious and mean, 
 and not at all philosophical ; it is so ; but when I 
 entertained myself for a moment with your 
 attractive guest, she was nothing to me; now, 
 
 circumstances are altered, she is , but while 
 
 I am endeavouring to prevent her being anything 
 to me, she occupies all my thoughts, all my plans, 
 all my future. 
 
 " I know nothing of her birth, her station, 
 her antecedents; she seems alone in life, she is 
 dependent on her own exertions, perhaps for her 
 daily existence. Hard lot ! and how to lighten 
 it ? Aye, there's the rub.
 
 214 CLARA FANE 
 
 " ' All that is agreeable is forbidden,' 
 say the Easterns. Can it be forbidden for me to 
 give ? no ; but for her to receive ? yes. Why have 
 I no maiden aunt who wants a companion no 
 sister who wants a governess for her daughters ? 
 I cannot bring her into my sphere; I fear to harm 
 her by exerting a spell generous lover that I 
 am ! I have then only to fly her, leave her to 
 her own difficulties and struggles, and trust to 
 time to reveal her in all her perfections, and to 
 fate to crown me while I sleep. Let it be so ; but 
 if your philosophy can teach me a remedy for this 
 new-born uneasiness, impart the same to your 
 willing pupil. I know you are too profound to 
 treat the smallest trifle in the great theatre of 
 atoms with contempt." 
 
 To this letter Mr. Loftus received the following 
 answer : 
 
 " You are aware that I never interfere with 
 the arrangements of La Frilletta it would be too 
 much to control the motions of so eccentric a 
 planet she comes and goes, and acts as she 
 pleases ; merely when I am weary either of her or 
 the expense she brings on me, I put an end to the 
 ennui by leaving her to herself, as was the case at 
 my villa on the Thames, where she carried on her 
 caprices and 
 
 ' Fooled me to the top of my bent.'
 
 CLARA FANE. 215 
 
 Sometimes my female guests were actresses, some- 
 times women of good society, who choose to pass 
 a few hours in a sort of masquerade, but as my 
 principle is never to inquire, since 
 
 ' That all nameless hour,' 
 
 when I found inquiry fruitless to revive my 
 bruised heart and extinguished hopes, I knew 
 not who the luminaries might be who cheered my 
 abode by their presence. 
 
 " On the evening, however, to which you allude, 
 my sister-in-law, for so you well know she has really 
 a right to be called, told me that her adventure of 
 the day before was a singular one : she had more 
 than once practised the stratagem, but seldom be- 
 fore succeeded. By answering advertisements she 
 was enabled to see strangers ; she had an interview 
 under certain pretences, as the case might be and 
 according to the appearance of the person she 
 beheld, she acted. This time she felt so sure of 
 her quarry, from the simplicity of the girl and 
 the singular ignorance of the world in the aunt, 
 mother, or guardian, that she was able to enact her 
 farce admirably ; she created a Dorine she 
 brought them to the villa they played the part 
 she set them, and all was over. She did them no 
 harm and made amusement for us. 
 
 " I confess I have myself often thought since
 
 216 CLARA FANE. 
 
 of that beautiful girl, and that she should have 
 wakened up your imagination I am not surprised. 
 I advise you to pursue your adventure; it may 
 lead to happiness. My doctrine is, as you know, 
 a pure one : I adore beauty, and I hold it in 
 reverence because it is the symbol of a sacred 
 thing ; to harm or injure it is to break your idol 
 and to destroy your mystic worship. 
 
 " I hold that love, properly so called, exalts 
 the mind towards the divinity, that it excites to 
 noble actions and conducts to them ; without the 
 shame of evil and the emulation of good, nothing 
 is achieved. This perception is given to all ; we 
 are all aware of the existence of good and ill, and 
 we are free to follow either as we please. 
 
 " Love is the most etherial of beings, the 
 most subtle of essences, and only attaches itself 
 to that which is as pure and immaterial as itself, 
 passing by all of grosser kind ; it has an existence 
 of perfume and flowers, and avoids all that shocks 
 the senses or fails to embellish them. 
 
 " To me was once given the realization of this 
 blissful vision ; it was shown me and snatched 
 away ; since then I have lived upon its recollec- 
 tion, and since I can find Love no more, it is in 
 the Beautiful I take refuge. You have yet to 
 find the truth after which you seek, and, if one 
 can judge by a lovely countenance, and the
 
 CLARA FANE. 217 
 
 appearance of all the virtues in an outward form, 
 you may be thought in the direct path. As in 
 the marble block exists the statue which genius 
 calls forth to life, so is the divine nature held 
 captive in an earthly frame. Gleaming white and 
 radiant over the limped waters of the Lago M ag- 
 giore rises the glorious rock with its defaced sur- 
 face, so disturbed to give egress to the fairy 
 structure, which a century has prepared to adorn 
 Milan, the most graceful of cities. A spirit capable 
 of comprehending that which existed in the snowy 
 quarry of the lake sought and found its trea- 
 sures. 
 
 * The mind that seeks will always find.' 
 
 " The purer matter becomes as it starts into 
 beauty the readier is it understood by the soul 
 worthy of appreciating it. It is true that corporeal 
 perfection is only a first step towards the great 
 attainment of moral beauty ; we begin our career 
 on earth and are therefore forced to admire earthly 
 charms; they lead us on, for we are ever advancing, 
 and the nearer we arrive at the hidden truth we 
 seek, the purer and more transparent grows the 
 butterfly we chase till its form is absorbed before 
 us and its essence alone remains. That essence is 
 enough for our purified minds ; thus Avhen the 
 body's beauty is evaporated by time and age, that 
 VOL. i. L
 
 218 CLARA FANE. 
 
 of the mind is seen with greater clearness, and 
 shines without an intervening veil. 
 
 " Virtue and truth are beauty, and he is blest 
 whose vision is sufficiently pure to recognise them 
 where they exist. 
 
 " Therefore do I seek in every beautiful object 
 in nature, and in art, which is another form of 
 nature, for the type of that immortal grace which 
 having once descended to earth, has left its seeds 
 behind, which spring eternally, and produce a 
 flower whose blossoms send their fragrance to the 
 stars, and are there absorbed into them. 
 
 " I am in love with the sea in all its varied 
 moods; its sublime anger, it delicious calm ; I am 
 in love with silver cataracts and rushing torrents 
 I do not wonder at the worship paid them, and 
 the fancied nymphs and fairies who have been 
 thought to make them their abodes. Mountains 
 with their severe beauties of snow and ice, and 
 their fascinations of verdure and wood inspire me 
 with love; colours and light, song and dance, all 
 sounds of harmony, all touch, and scent, and 
 feeling, which convey delight with them I am in 
 love, and thus a present Paradise is ever with 
 me conducting to that other which all souls who 
 diligently pursue are sure to attain. 
 
 " Surrounding all these beautiful objects of 
 the lower world are regrets, and sorrows, and
 
 CLARA FANE. 
 
 dangers, and suffering; these will be unknown 
 hereafter ; these we must pass by as we may, 
 changing them as they beset us into other forms, 
 and making their deformities less conspicuous. 
 There is nothing but evil that cannot afford some 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Where evil exists in act or thought, beauty 
 cannot be perceived love can have no existence. 
 
 " Pursue the ideal you have created until it 
 becomes reality : trust in the certainty of its 
 development if it is genuine where the seed and 
 the sun is the plant will flourish ; keep always in 
 mind that the air round love must be pure and 
 the stream must be of crystal that waters and 
 nourishes it." 
 
 L 2
 
 /ISO CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " All that I have now to say to you is that Lore is a 
 traitor, who may involve you in difficulties from which you will 
 never be able to extricate yourself. 
 
 Arabian Nights. 
 
 THE whole neighbourhood was scon occupied in 
 preparations for the dejeuner to be given in the 
 grounds of Loftus Hall, and great were the 
 anxieties of all who felt uncertain whether or not 
 the invitations would be extended to them. It 
 appeared, however, that Mr. Loftus was deter- 
 mined to gain golden opinions from all sorts of 
 people, for he had left out no one who could, by 
 possibility, be admitted, rightly judging that in a 
 great crowd the least distinguished would be lost 
 in the brilliancy of the many. 
 
 It was at dinner, soon after the county ball, 
 that the family of Goldspin were conversing toge- 
 ther on past and coming events, when the subject 
 of Miss Fane was discussed.
 
 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " I cannot think who she is," said Mrs. Gold- 
 spin, " she is certainly a very elegant girl, and 
 she seems quite at home with the Honourable Miss 
 Clinton, she has a manner not much unlike her's, 
 perhaps she's a relation. I don't think I could 
 do wrong in having her invited to the Hall, but 
 I'm sure I shan't ask those governesses. The 
 company ought to be quite select, and, as far as 
 concerns me, I will keep it so ; I can't answer for 
 what that vulgar Lady Brixton may do. I am 
 surprised at Mr. Loftus associating her with me ; 
 he might as well have named Lady Derrington ; 
 it would have been more in keeping, I think." 
 
 " But Lady Derrington never goes out, you 
 know," said her husband, " so that couldn't be ; 
 besides, if Mr. L. is sweet upon one of those girls it 
 is but natural he should be civil to the mother." 
 
 " I'm surprised to hear you talk in so indelicate 
 a way," said Mrs. Goldspin tartly j " is it likely 
 that such tomboys should attract a man of such 
 refinement. They are grown positively hideous, 
 and, as for their manners, they are not fit for 
 decent society." 
 
 " Well," exclaimed Mr. Ben, " I'll tell you 
 what, I will say that I think there's less nonsense 
 and humbug about them than most gals ; I enjoy 
 teazing them and bringing out their spirit, and 
 plenty of it they've got, I promise you."
 
 222 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " Yes/' added Mr. Jack, " spirit, indeed ! I 
 should be sorry to offend one of 'em ; they'd 
 mind knocking a fellow down no more than 
 looking at him." 
 
 " Well," replied the brother, " I like 'em little 
 enough, but I hate your prim, stiff, genteel girls 
 that won't waltz and can't ride." 
 
 " Don't you admire, Miss Fane ?" asked his 
 mother. 
 
 " Oh! she's a fine girl; there's no denying 
 it," returned the youth ; " but, somehow, I never 
 feel at home with those sorts of lasses that have 
 such a grand way with 'em. I can talk fast 
 enough with either of the Brixtons, even if we do 
 have tiffs, but I can't get up a word with such a 
 fine phceuix as Miss Fane, meek as she looks. I'd 
 rather be pitched over a ate any day than face 
 such dainty beauties as that." 
 
 " You'll never make your way with the ladies, 
 Jack," said his father, " if you go on so. If I'd 
 had your over modesty I should never have been 
 the man I am ; your mother would'nt have looked 
 at me." 
 
 " Well, I think love and courtship, and all 
 that's humbug," said Jack. " If ever I marry, 
 so as my wife's sober, honest, and a good cook, it's 
 all I shall care for." 
 
 This sally created great laughter in the com-
 
 CLARA FANE. 223 
 
 pany, except from Mrs. Goldspin, whose delicacy 
 was shocked at the want of refinement her sons 
 displayed. 
 
 " Are we expected to go to this priggish 
 breakfast ?" asked Mr. Ben : " what a bore it is. 
 I hate that fellow, Loftus ; he always looks as if 
 he thought us not good enough to enter his pre- 
 sence. He now is one of your fine stuck-up 
 ones, that pretend to be so civil, and is so full of 
 humbug." 
 
 " I can't think what you call humbug, Ben," 
 said his mother ; " Mr. Loftus is quite a pattern 
 to all young men, both in conduct and manners. 
 I wish you'd take pattern by him a little, instead 
 of the set you belong to, which I'm sure, though 
 Cambridge men, are far from genteel." 
 
 " Not genteel, mother," said the son, " why 
 they're the very tiptops of elegance. I hope 
 some of them will be here to go with us to this 
 boring party, or I'm sure it'll be no go for us." 
 
 Another burst of laughter from the brother 
 and father of the punster enlivened the table, and 
 Mrs. Goldspiu's objections to the Cambridge 
 friends of her enlightened sons were allowed no 
 further development. 
 
 At Lady Brixton's, meanwhile, a colloquy of 
 a similar subject was being carried on between 
 the mother and daughters.
 
 224 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " Now, Kate/' said the mother, " you must 
 do whatf 'you can to bring him to book on this 
 occasion ; he was clearly a good deal struck the 
 other night ; he's a charming man, and has 
 plenty of money, besides being of a capital old 
 family. When you are mistress of the hall we'll 
 have brisk doings, shan't we my dear. How mad 
 it'll make the Goldspins !" 
 
 "Aye, trust me for that," said Miss Kate, 
 " and see if 1 don't nail him this time ; he's 
 rather slippery and shifts about a good deal in 
 spite of the fine compliments he pays; but he 
 knows how to give good broad hints, and he said 
 the other night he should adore me if he didn't 
 think all women were jilts. I vow I won't dance 
 with anybody but him, and as for that Ben Gold- 
 spin, if he asks me, I'll refuse him flat before the 
 other's face." 
 
 " Captain Brighty has, of course, engaged me 
 for the first two sets," said Miss Constantia, " and 
 I'll let him know too that it's just as well not to 
 shilly shally with me too long ; if he doesn't 
 speak out I'll flirt, as sure as he's born, with one 
 of the others." 
 
 " I should like to know what Brighty 's got to 
 trust to ?" said her mother, " it isn't gold epaulets 
 that'll keep the pot boiling ; and my daughter's 
 husband must have as good a fortune as her own 
 or it'll never do."
 
 CLARA FANE. 225 
 
 " Aye, but birth you know, mamma," said 
 Miss Stanny, "anybody may have money, but 
 blood's another thing, and I'm sure Brighty's 
 very high." 
 
 " Yes, he looks it," replied Lady Brixton, " I 
 wouldn't however advise you to go too far till we 
 find out about him, you've no occasion to throw 
 yourself away to the first bidder." 
 
 " No, no," replied Miss Stanny, laughing, " I 
 don't mean he's not the first by a dozen and 
 perhaps I shall have a dozen more if he doesn't 
 look sharp. Do you mean to invite that Miss 
 Fane, mamma ? One doesn't know who she is, 
 she didn't dance the other night, I wonder where 
 she sprang from ! She's not bad looking," added 
 Miss Stanny, glancing in the glass and settling 
 her curls, " at least for that style of person. 
 Brighty said he didn't think much of her 
 though." 
 
 " Her hands and feet are like dolls'," said 
 Miss Kate, " quite out of proportion a,nd her eyes 
 are too large and she's too pale. I suppose she's 
 a friend of Miss Clinton's, I saw them talking 
 together." 
 
 " Did you ?" said the mother, " oh, then we 
 must ask her I suppose, though I must take the 
 opinion of that purse-proud Madam Goldspin 
 about everything, as she's put in command as well 
 
 L 3
 
 226 CLARA FANE. 
 
 as me. But there's no occasion to fill up the list 
 with governesses I should imagine, so I shall vote 
 against that sort." 
 
 The calculations of these two ladies' patron- 
 esses were however defeated, in the instance of 
 the party at Vernon House, by a note which had 
 been dispatched by Miss Clinton, specially inviting 
 the three and moreover proposing to take Clara 
 with her, as she had a seat in her carriage to 
 offer. 
 
 "Well I'm sure," said Mrs. Trumble, "that 
 girl's head '11 be turned ; they all treat her as if 
 she was a great lady ; I'll take an opportunity of 
 letting Miss Clinton know she's only my teacher, 
 or else I shall never get on with her next half. 
 She's been a good deal stuck up, I fancy, ever 
 since that Clark flattered her about her picture. 
 I wish he'd afmished it, there it is now, no good 
 to anybody; but he shan't have it without he 
 ends all the work he began/' 
 
 Clara was a good deal surprised at the invita- 
 tion, and pleased at the chance of renewing an 
 acquaintance with Miss Clinton, to whom she felt 
 attracted, from the contrast she offered to the 
 commonplace minds with which she was daily 
 associated. She had resolved in her own mind 
 not to continue with Mrs. Trumble after Mid- 
 summer, as from the report of Charlotte she found
 
 CLARA FANE. 227 
 
 that that lady proposed many reforms in the school 
 to which she had no inclination to submit. The 
 prospect held out to her by her friend Eugenie 
 Petit, she thought offered her a wider field for her 
 talents; for the irksomeness daily increased of 
 various petty details to which she was the more 
 subjected, by the preoccupation of Miss Philippa, 
 whose intention was evidently to change her state 
 as soon as possible, and who shifted the trouble of 
 tuition to her hands as much as she could. To be 
 left entirely to Mrs. Trumble she felt would be 
 infinitely worse, and she resolved to prevent that 
 alternative. She no longer feared persecution 
 from Mr. Loft us, but the singular position in 
 which she stood towards him disturbed her, and 
 she felt that it would be better to absent herself 
 from a spot where his presence would be a con- 
 tinued source of agitation to her mind. 
 
 " I shall probably see him for the last time at 
 this fete," thought she, " and as he will of course 
 notice me no more than before, I need not make 
 myself uneasy about the affair. His conduct is, 
 however, sufficiently strange." 
 
 " And now, my dear Mrs. Wybrow," said Mr. 
 Loftus, as he finished his survey of the prepara- 
 tions for the fete within the house at Loftus Hall, 
 " I have only to thank you for your clever
 
 228 CLARA FANE. 
 
 arrangements and to beg you to tire and trouble 
 yourself as little as you can during the gaieties. 
 I wish my friend William were to be one of the 
 guests to-day, he is probably threading the mazes 
 of some pyramid, or exploring some island of the 
 Nile, at this moment. By the way, did not you 
 tell me that Miss Fane knew him ? she is, I think, 
 invited here to-day ? you will show her any civility 
 you can, since she is an acquaintance of William's, 
 she is not, par hazard, his intended, is she ?" 
 
 " Oh no," replied Mrs. Wybrow, " I wish she 
 was, she is exactly the sort of person I should 
 have chosen for him, so full of grace and taste 
 and genius, and so amiable and cheerful too. How- 
 ever," added she, with a sigh, " she knows Maria 
 Spicer, the young girl he has actually engaged 
 himself to, and she reports favourably of her." 
 
 " This Miss Fane then pleases you," continued 
 Mr. Loftus, "did she tell you anything of her 
 history ? did she mention where she came from, 
 and who she is ?" 
 
 " She is an orphan, it seems," replied she, 
 "and has never known her parents, her story 
 seems romantic as far as I heard her allude to it. 
 She was a foundling, and has been brought up by 
 two sisters at Llangollen, who have educated her." 
 
 " Her very name then is not her own \" said 
 Mr. Loftus, musing. "What right have people
 
 CLARA FANE. 229 
 
 to adopt foundlings and send them on the world ? 
 who knows what blood they have? the parents 
 may have been outcasts, felons, who is to know ! 
 some secret sin may be in their nature which edu- 
 cation cannot remove." 
 
 "Dear sir/ 5 said Mrs. Wybrow, smiling, 
 " what a singular thought, Miss Fane has more 
 the look of being a nobleman's daughter than a 
 low man's. She is all grace in manners and 
 mind." 
 
 " You cannot know, my dear friend," returned 
 he, " she might have worn a mask as, forgive me, 
 I fear most women do to suit a purpose. Do you 
 remember how lovely, how pure, how innocent 
 and simple, charming Lady Emma Wynngrave 
 looked, and was believed to be till she ran off with 
 her sister's husband ? and the pious and angelic 
 Caroline Craven, whose conversation was so edi- 
 fying, she finished her career by stealing her 
 friend's diamonds; and sweet Christina St. Leger, 
 whose care of her sick father was exemplary, she 
 eloped with the doctor one fine evening, leaving 
 him fast in the gout j and " 
 
 " Oh, these are extraordinary examples," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Wybrow, " and are like accidents on 
 railroads which, because they are made public, 
 appear so frequent, when the reverse is the case, 
 in comparison with those that occurred to the
 
 230 CLARA FANE. 
 
 conveyances of former times. Your last proposi- 
 tion, too/' said she, " destroys your first, your case 
 against foundlings is done away with, since the 
 birth and parentage of the ladies you have named 
 is sufficiently well known. Ah, my dear sir, 
 you would not have those prejudices against our 
 sex, if you had had the advantage of intimate 
 female society, an only child and an orphan, you 
 never knew us, and cannot do us justice/' 
 
 " You are the exception in this instance," said 
 he, smiling; "I must at least acknowledge that 
 one good woman exists, and I have a grudge 
 against you for destroying my theory, which I 
 nevertheless confess I am not stubborn in." 
 
 " Become a married man," replied Mrs. "Wy- 
 brow, " and your prejudices and bachelor habits 
 will evaporate together." 
 
 "Aye, but where to choose?" replied Mr. 
 Loftus ; " shall I try to-day ? there are the hand- 
 some Miss Brixtons the pretty Miss Bakers 
 the lively Miss Lowtous the serious and sensible 
 Miss Clinton, but she is not pretty nor young, 
 and unfortunately I am so contradictory in my 
 desires." 
 
 " I think Miss Fane, the foundling, far beyond 
 any," said Mrs. TVybrow, " but she, of course, 
 is out of the question, as much as all the 
 others you have named. Mr. Loftus isn't obliged
 
 CLARA FANE. 231 
 
 to come to a country town's society to choose his 
 wife, when the first families in the kingdom would 
 be proud of his alliance." 
 
 " Yes, that is the misfortune," murmured he ; 
 " a man is never loved for himself; circumstances 
 give him value, without which he would be unno- 
 ticed. No ! I am destined to a single life, that is 
 clear. This is my farewell of England for some 
 time, and we shall see what adventures may 
 attend me abroad. I am going to join my friend, 
 Sir Anselm Fairfax, at Venice in a few weeks, 
 and together we will fly from the every-day world 
 to scenes ' new and strange/ which will soon dis- 
 sipate the ennui I always feel as soon as I set my 
 foot on the shores of our sombe, steady, moral, 
 excellent, best-of- all-possible islands loved at a 
 distance with a patriot's affection, and quitted 
 with the indifference of a stepson."
 
 232 CLARA FANE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 See ! the whole assemblage of slender plants, pointing to 
 the bower with fingers of young leaves agitated by the gale, 
 make signals to thee ! 
 
 Songs of Jayadeca. 
 
 THERE was everything at the fete champetre at 
 Loftus Hall which could be desired by any of the 
 guests. A summer's day without too much sun, 
 shady walks and bowers to stroll in, swings and 
 roundabouts for romping parties, soft music for 
 the sentimental, gay music for dancers, games for 
 the active, fountains and birds and groves for the 
 pensive, flowers for the poetical, and food for the 
 less etherial. 
 
 Captain Brighty proposed, and was accepted 
 by Miss Constantia without reference to her 
 mamma's approval. 
 
 " I don't care a button," said that resolute 
 young lady, " whether she consents or not. I'm 
 one-and-twenty, and my own mistress, and not
 
 CLARA FANE. 233 
 
 going to be dictated to about my choice. So, if 
 she makes a fuss, you know," she added, " we've 
 only to run away, and that's the best fun after 
 all." 
 
 " I give you my word, my adorable," replied 
 her lover, " I think it by no means a bad plan ; 
 it saves a good deal of bore and that sort of thing, 
 lawyers and all that, and wedding-cake that dis- 
 gusting compound of lead and sugar-plums, em- 
 blematic of the light and heavy in matrimony 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 " The only thing is," returned Miss Stanny, 
 " I should like to mortify those Goldspins by a 
 grand wedding, they would be so mad !" 
 
 Another proposal and acceptance took place 
 in another green alley of the gardens Miss 
 Philippa Giles consented to be the bride of the 
 young apothecary, and to share his future medical 
 fortunes, contributing her own thereto. 
 
 But the day's amusements ended without the 
 expected proposal from Mr. Loftus to Miss Kate, 
 who, having done her utmost to accomplish her 
 design on the possessor of the gardens where her 
 flirtations were carried on, was so annoyed at fail- 
 ing, that she condescended, in order to spite him, 
 to dance the Polka several times with Mr. Ben 
 Goldspin, who, on placing her on a seat after im- 
 mense exertion on his part, which had rendered
 
 23* CLARA FANE. 
 
 his complexion perfectly luminous, and caused 
 drops, which might have been of sympathy, to 
 distil from his hyacinthine locks, pronounced his 
 partner " a trump." 
 
 Miss Clinton and Clara passed much of that 
 day together, and improved each other's acquain- 
 tance greatly. 
 
 Clara had been received with great courtesy, 
 on her arrival, by Mr. Loftus, and had been for- 
 mally presented to him by Miss Clinton; but 
 though he inquired after her health, and alluded 
 to her accident, he spoke as a perfect stranger. 
 Clara would not, however, allow the moment to 
 pass without speaking her thanks for the hospi- 
 tality he had directed to be shown her at his 
 house. 
 
 " I am charmed," said he, with perfect cool- 
 ness, " that Mrs. "Wybrow was on the spot at so 
 lucky and unlucky a moment : she is very anxious 
 to see you, and is full of your praises ; I find you 
 create great interest in her bosom from being a 
 friend of her son's." 
 
 So saying he bowed himself away to welcome 
 the guests. 
 
 The new friends wandered away into the 
 flowery recesses of the garden, great part of 
 which was laid out quaintly in an antique style ; 
 the trees cut in formal rows with statues between,
 
 CLARA FANE. 235 
 
 and grotesque fountains playing in the midst of 
 angular parterres; here and there a temple of 
 coloured marble or a stone grotto invited to their 
 retreats ; and cool arbours and mossy cells 
 abounded. 
 
 At length they paused in a pavilion which was 
 placed at the'end of a lake and stood in the midst 
 of a little wild .wood which quite shut out the rest 
 of the domain. There was, close to this spot, a 
 bit of rocky ground, which had been undisturbed 
 and left in its original rugged beauty; a natural 
 cascade came leaping from a high rock above and 
 foamed over the impeding projections, dashing, at 
 last, into the lake at its foot. A seat was placed 
 by the side of the fall, and on a flat stone at the 
 back Clara and Miss Clinton occupied themselves 
 in endeavouring to decipher an inscription which 
 was nearly effaced by the moss and wild flowers 
 which had overgrown it. 
 
 They were both stooping over it, and Clara 
 had removed some of the beautiful encumbrances 
 which concealed it, when on looking up she per- 
 ceived Mr. Loftus advancing towards them. 
 
 " Oh \" cried Miss Clinton, "you are arrived 
 exactly at a moment most desired, and can ex- 
 plain to us the little mystery which interests 
 amongst others in this charming place." 
 
 " You have found out, then," said he, " the
 
 236 CLARA FANE. 
 
 most retired nook of my stronghold, once my 
 favourite haunt, but shamefully neglected of late. 
 Since our friend, Sir Anselm," he continued, turn- 
 ing to Miss Clinton, " left this part of the country 
 I have not cared to visit it. It was his hand that 
 traced his favourite motto. See, the letters are 
 strongly graven and can soon be made out can 
 you read them now, Miss Fane ?" 
 
 As he spoke, he cleared away the weeds, and 
 with a stick removed the clay from the hollowed 
 letters. Clara stooped down and read the motto 
 slowly 
 
 "Trau. Schau. Wem." 
 
 But no sooner had she done so than she 
 turned extremely pale, uttered a deep sigh, and 
 fell fainting on the seat. 
 
 The two companions were extremely as- 
 tonished, for the instant before she was full of 
 gaiety and life, and her walk had given an un- 
 usual bloom to her cheek. 
 
 " Some insect has stung her ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Loftus. " Good heavens ! I am destined to be 
 the cause of injury to her Run, dear Miss Clin- 
 ton ! bring some water in the palm of your hand 
 from the cascade there ! her colour comes 
 again. It is very singular and sudden." 
 
 He supported her as he spoke, and, untying
 
 CLARA FANE. 237 
 
 her bonnet, he chafed her temples, while Miss 
 Clinton, with salts and profuse sprinkling of 
 water, busied herself in cares to restore her. In 
 raising her hand, Mr. Loftus observed that the 
 tightness of a small gold bracelet she wore might 
 retard her recovery, he unclasped it, and, as he 
 did so, read on the clasp, to his surprise, the same 
 motto, which was engraven on the stone 
 
 "Trau. Schau. Wem." 
 
 " This is extraordinary ! " said he. " What an 
 inconceivable coincidence ! merely so, of course." 
 
 Clara opened her eyes at this moment and 
 observed how she was attended : the blood rushed 
 back to her cheek and forehead, which was sup- 
 ported on the bosom of Mr. Loftus, and, making 
 an effort to recover herself, she exclaimed 
 
 " Pray forgive this trouble this weakness. 
 I am shocked at thus disturbing the harmony of 
 such a moment. How extraordinary ! " 
 
 " What agitated you ? what caused this emo- 
 tion?" asked Miss Clinton kindly. 
 
 " A singular coincidence only," replied Clara, 
 " a trifle it ought not to have thus affected me. 
 The motto on that stone, so suddenly seen, cor- 
 responds with one which so remarkably influences 
 my life that I could not behold it without being 
 affected. No doubt it is a common one, and, but
 
 238 CLARA FANE. 
 
 for circumstances, would have passed unnoticed 
 by me. I entreat you to excuse me I am tho- 
 roughly ashamed and quite recovered now." 
 
 " I may then replace your bracelet," said Mr. 
 Loftus. 
 
 Clara blushed again as she allowed him to do 
 so. 
 
 " I fear your secret is a painful one," said he, 
 " since it costs you so much agitation ; those of 
 ladies, so young as you are, in general are merely 
 sentimental," he added with a smile. 
 
 " It is the secret of my existence," said Clara, 
 mournfully, " and destined to be unexplained 
 alas ! it is an enigma I have no hope of solving." 
 
 " Let us abandon then the attempt to do so 
 now," said he offering both ladies an arm ; " you 
 shall return to the world or retire to Mrs. AVy- 
 brow^s apartments, as you see fit : she is, it seems, 
 destined to repair my inadvertence, and will do so 
 now if you like to employ her means again. I 
 am too discreet to inquire further into this mys- 
 tery, but I shall tremble to take you through my 
 strange old rooms, for the walls are so scrawled 
 with mottoes and devices that I should be afraid 
 of scaring you at every turn. We have even a 
 ghost legend of true love here which may make 
 anyone shudder, particularly those who have true 
 love sorrows to bewail."
 
 CLARA FANE. 239 
 
 He said the last words in rather a sarcastic 
 tone, which Miss Clinton observed and remarked 
 
 " Are there no regrets nor recollections but 
 those of love, Mr. Loftus, which may wound or 
 startle ? Life is made up of a series of sorrows, 
 and it is but too easy to find the tender spot 
 where chance may pierce." 
 
 " We will positively cease to be serious," ex- 
 claimed Mr. Loftus, suddenly, assuming an altered 
 tone, "if it were not too presumptuous I would 
 even entreat you both to dance and sing, but we 
 are all too much discomposed for violent contrasts 
 to do us good just now ; we will, therefore, seek 
 the festive board and listen to the lively strains of 
 the lute, and, crowned with roses, laugh our cares 
 away. And lo ! we have come upon the rosary 
 itself, where I have carefully gathered together in 
 one blushing heap of beauty roses from every 
 clime, of every size and variety that I could pro- 
 cure. Let us seat ourselves amongst them and 
 call the cupbearers." 
 
 They seated themselves accordingly in a beau- 
 tiful bower, placed opposite a circular walk with 
 a mound in the centre and numerous alleys 
 diverging from it, where were planted roses in 
 such immense profusion that the whole scene was 
 one blaze of that most seducing of all flowers. 
 
 A table covered with refreshments had been
 
 240 CLARA FANE. 
 
 been placed in this retreat, and attendants were 
 there ready to supply the guests. 
 
 " Does this remind you, Miss Fane," said Mr. 
 Loftus in a low voice to Clara, " of Rose Cottage 
 and its mysteries." 
 
 Clara started, and had not courage to reply. 
 
 " Now, my dear Miss Clinton," said he, 
 turning to her, " I know you are an enthusiast 
 of Eastern lore; tell us some stories of roses. 
 Let us make this the Feast of the Flower of a 
 Hundred Leaves; let us pass our hours in con- 
 versing of its beauties and perfections until we 
 imagine that the world is all one rose garden, and 
 there is not a thorn to be found in its paths." 
 
 " You humour my weakness well," said Miss 
 Clinton; " I rejoice in our having come upon 
 this retreat as we did, and I cannot believe that 
 you led us here by chance ; but silence, the grove 
 should be alive with melody; we have roses in 
 abundance, but where are the nightingales ?" 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Loftus, " there you have my 
 secret. Throughout my life, however near I may 
 approach to happiness, there is always some draw- 
 back, which almost, if not entirely, nullifies the 
 rest. I have procured roses from every clime and 
 possess them in perfection, but I could overcome 
 Nature no further ; I could force her to receive a 
 flower of warmer skies into a region of the North,
 
 CLARA FANE. 241 
 
 but no effort of mine could attract a nightingale 
 to my roses. Derbyshire allows us no nightin- 
 gales." 
 
 " But what then is the beautiful clear note I 
 hear,, swelling so loud and melodious ?" asked 
 Miss Clinton, listening. 
 
 " Oh, that is our substitute/' answered Mr. 
 Loftus ; " it is the woodlark, whose notes are here 
 so fine as to bear a comparison with the Bird of a 
 Thousand Songs, but the true companion of the 
 rose is distant ; yet my roses flourish as splendidly 
 in youth and beauty without Love, and, since 
 they cannot hope to meet him in these uncon- 
 genial regions, they pass their summer lives 
 without." 
 
 " I never heard the voice of the nightingale 
 in more perfection," said Miss Clinton, " than at 
 the very place where the rose was first cultivated 
 in France. It is really no romantic fancy on my 
 part. I was at Provins, in Champagne, one 
 summer, when those lovely small crimson roses, 
 which bear the name of that favoured town, were 
 in full bloom, and ' to them the live-long night/ 
 and day too, there sung a whole choir of nightin- 
 gales. This very rose was brought from Palestine 
 by Count Thibault of Champagne, and planted 
 in the gardens of his palace at Provins the 
 palace has disappeared in the course of ages, but 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 24.2 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the flower still clings to the soil of its adoption, 
 and makes the air there one atmosphere of per- 
 fume." 
 
 " Thibault, the troubadour, had, however, no- 
 thing to do with introducing the nightingales, 
 had he ?" asked Mr. Loftus, laughing. 
 
 " No," replied Miss Clinton, " but he was 
 more judicious than some modern amateurs, and 
 he placed his roses in a region where the bird was 
 not necessarily banished. What is an impossi- 
 bility here, followed of course there, for the soft 
 climate agreed as well with the bird as the 
 flower." 
 
 " That was according to the fitness of things," 
 said Mr. Loftus, smiling, " which I was not so 
 considerate of as the gallant lover of Queen 
 Blanche ; but though he addressed his songs to 
 her he did not win the rose." 
 
 " She was too far above him," said Clara, who 
 became interested and amused at this badinage, 
 " he had placed himself rather in the position of 
 the nightingale and the star, for which some 
 traditions say that the ambitious bird longs, and 
 finding it impossible to attain his wish, makes the 
 grove re-echo with his lamentations." 
 
 " Oh, how cruel of you, Miss Fane," said 
 Miss Clinton, " to endeavour to cast a slur on his 
 known constancy to his rose. That must have
 
 CLARA FANE. 243 
 
 been some particular unfaithful nightingale, who 
 met with his proper punishment. It is heresy to 
 associate any other objects with these recognised 
 lovers. The very name of this pattern of true 
 love in Persian unites him eternally to the flower 
 of a hundred varied names he is called Gul-dum, 
 as she is called Gul. I will try to recollect some 
 of her numerous names in that most poetical of 
 all dialects the enamelled language of Persia. 
 
 " She is called Gul-ranza, to express her 
 softest palest beauty and most delicate odour 
 then she is, in fact, a sort of Blanche of Castile 
 and the same word expresses a bed of full- 
 blown roses of this kind ; when she is called Gul- 
 i-suri, she is Count Thibault's Provins' rose in 
 scent and colour ; she is Gulzar when she stands 
 surrounded by a hundred blushing companions. 
 
 " The most expressive of her lover's notes is 
 called Gul-bang ; the softest he breathes to her 
 is Gul-e-chah. The pleasure they both feel in 
 each other's society is expressed by the word Gul- 
 fishan. When she is clothed with her richest and 
 deepest colour, she becomes Gulnar. The first of 
 modern poets judiciously chose this name of her 
 for his most energetic heroine. 
 
 "When she grows on a slender stalk, and her 
 delicate head bends with every zephyr, she is Gul- 
 andam ; when she is designated Gul-i-susan, she 
 
 M 2
 
 244 CLARA FANE. 
 
 is transformed into a lily, and is a violet under 
 the title of Gvl-na-farman. 
 
 " When I hold a bouquet of her family in my 
 hand, I must call her Gul-dastah ; and the walk 
 through allies like this where she grows, is known 
 as Gul-ffuli. 
 
 " The rosy cheek of beauty is Gul-zizar and the 
 cup of wine which has just now been presented 
 to us we may drink as Gnl-gun. 
 
 " Is not this a chapter of roses ?" 
 
 " A fascinating catalogue," said Mr. Loftus, 
 " and one that should be learnt by all rose fanciers : 
 you should be called the Bird of Breath, as the 
 nightingale is, for singing it at length. Half the 
 pleasure of possessing a treasure is in its associa- 
 tions, and the more legends and histories one can 
 surround it with, the greater is its real value. For 
 my own part, I prize a gallery of pictures as much 
 for what they suggest as for what they present to 
 the eye. It is for that reason that I prefer 
 portraits painted by the great masters, to many 
 other subjects of their pencil ; each of these has 
 a history attached to it, and can convey more 
 knowledge of character, in one glance, than a 
 whole library of descriptive biography/' 
 
 " Perhaps this explains/' said Clara, " my pre- 
 ference of painting to sculpture; in general, the 
 subjects of sculpture are classical, and even in fine
 
 CLARA FANE. 245 
 
 busts, the absence of colour, and consequent ex- 
 pression causes the soul to seem wanting. Statues 
 are like shadows, exact outlines, but with none of 
 the animation of life." 
 
 ."There are exceptions," said Loftus, "which 
 you will acknowledge when you have been in 
 Italy. Yet I agree with you in a general way. 
 When one has seen the immortal portrait of 
 Ariosto at Venice, one knows the poet." 
 
 " And when one has looked on the bust of the 
 despairing Clytise, one knows her history/' ob- 
 served Miss Clinton. " This is like the dispute of 
 day and night, both are glorious in their turn ; 
 and neither has a right to take the palm from his 
 charming rival." 
 
 " My friend, Sir Anselm Fairfax," said Loftus, 
 turning to Miss Clinton, " would be happy to con- 
 vince Miss Fane of her heresy, with regard to 
 sculpture ; it is his passion above all others : he 
 has, at his villa on Lake Como, a gallery where 
 the most sceptical would be converted ; he is far 
 from excluding modern art, as every sculptor in 
 Italy and Germany can testify. He says, justly, 
 that modern art does not develope itself so forcibly 
 by means of the pencil as the chisel, and he con- 
 siders that the latter has the start by a century ; 
 some few, indeed, have trodden very closely on the
 
 246 CLARA FANE. 
 
 heels of the first and heaven-iiispired creations of 
 the Venus and the Apollo." 
 
 " Have you seen the Walhalla on the Danube?" 
 asked Miss Clinton, 
 
 " The moment it was finished I saw it," re- 
 plied Loftus, "and a marvel it is in its way, 
 stupendous and startling; the exterior is faultless 
 with Sehwanthaler's magnificent bas-reliefs, its 
 position is unrivalled, crowning a bold mountain 
 on the banks of the finest river in Europe, but 
 the interminable maze of steps leading up to it 
 weakens its effect ; the enormous mass of stone 
 which they necessarily employ, is too intrusive ; 
 nothing can give grace to such a pile ; the very 
 fatigue it suggests destroys harmony. There was 
 no necessity for apparent approach that way, a 
 covered way would have answered better, winding 
 round the hill or under it. It is sufficient, that a 
 broad carriage road leads to the back of the tem- 
 ple. It is not a shrine for some miraculous 
 Madonna, that it should require a line of steps 
 and stations before it can be reached ; the mere 
 aspect of being unattainable would give it greater 
 sublimity. 
 
 " The whole thing is like the monarch's mind 
 who planned it a mixture of greatness and 
 puerility of grandeur and vulgarity; he has
 
 CLARA FANE. 247 
 
 built a perfect temple, and spoilt it by an over- 
 whelming staircase ; he has designed a retreat for 
 demi-gods and intended to place genius on its 
 proper pedestal, but he was stopped short by a 
 twinge of conscience instigated by bigotry, and 
 left out some of the most glorious names in the 
 history of his country. He has raised altars to the 
 virtues and the talents, and put coarsely painted 
 Bayaderes amongst their solemn groups ; he has 
 erected walls and roofs of the purest marble, and 
 daubed them, over with colour and gilding. 
 Although," he added, laughing, " some say, 
 the ancients did the same so he may be 
 right. 
 
 " Still, with all its defects, the Walhalla is one 
 of the finest monuments in Europe, and worth a 
 journey to behold." 
 
 "Well, I declare!" exclaimed a voice, easily 
 recognised as Lady Brixton's, " if they are not 
 here ! Why, Mr. Loftus, my Kate and I have 
 been puffing and blowing all over the gardens to 
 find you. What could have made you hide your- 
 self in this corner? everybody thinks you have 
 set off by the train to London, and left us in the 
 lurch." 
 
 "I deserve your reproach, my dear Lady 
 Brixton," said Mr. Loftus, "we were, however,
 
 248 CLARA FANE. 
 
 on our way to join YOU let me give you bouquets, 
 at least, of my roses, which, in your way, you 
 resemble; here is yulnar the crimson for you, 
 and gul-zizar the glowing for Miss Kate ; 
 you see, Miss Clinton, what an apt scholar I 
 am." 
 
 Miss Kate accepted his rose in spite of her 
 pouting. 
 
 " I thought I had tired you out with that last 
 polka," said she, "you fine dandies are so soon 
 done up. I could dance all to-day and all 
 night too, and be ready for another ball to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Happy state !" said Mr. Loftus, with pre- 
 tended enthusiasm, " delicious feeling of healthful 
 vigour 1 how superior to the supine crowd of 
 fashionable nonenities, who breathe only the 
 atmosphere of gas, and dread the breeze of early 
 morning. Shall we go and swing? Miss Fane," 
 said he, with an affectation of earnest, " do come, 
 it's such fun I" 
 
 " Yes," cried Miss Kate, "I've been in two or 
 three times, as high as the top of the cedars 
 pretty near ; that bear, Ben Goldspin, canted me 
 up such a height ! I'll be even with him though, 
 if once I get him in." 
 
 Mr. Loftus, giving his arm to the new comers,
 
 CLARA FANE. 249 
 
 and followed by the other two, accordingly pro- 
 ceeded to a very different scene of action, and 
 sentiment, art and the roses were soon driven 
 from the minds of all. 
 
 M 3
 
 250 CLARA FANE 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Tis far off, 
 
 And rather like a dream than an assurance, 
 That my remembrance warrants. 
 
 Tempest. 
 
 BEFOKE Clara parted from Miss Clinton that day, 
 the latter exacted from her a promise to pass the 
 chief part of the Midsummer holidays with her, 
 at Coombe Park. 
 
 " Since your intention was not to return to 
 your friends at Llangollen, at present," said she, 
 " there is no reason why you should not indulge 
 me with the only society I have ever found conge- 
 nial in my solitude; I will not prevent you, if you 
 desire it, going to London afterwards, as you do 
 not wish to return to Mrs. Trunotble's, where I 
 cannot but think your talents are wasted. If 
 we do not hear of some position more suitable to 
 you, you shall be at liberty to seek your own for- 
 tunes in your own way, meantime, allow us for
 
 CLARA FANE. 251 
 
 the present, to interfere with your plans by sub- 
 stituting our own." 
 
 Clara was too grateful for this friendly offer 
 to decline it, and was not sorry, when all the bustle 
 of breaking up had taken place, to find herself 
 transferred to Coombe Park and installed in a 
 tower chamber, with books, instruments, and 
 drawings, in profusion round her. 
 
 She found her welcome from Lady Derrington 
 as cordial as from her daughter, and soon saw so 
 much in her character to admire that her heart 
 became penetrated with joy and gratitude, at the 
 kindness which appeared awaiting her wherever 
 she moved. 
 
 " I am certainly fortunate," she said within 
 herself, "in thus meeting with unexpected friends; 
 dear nurse, Susey, fostered my helpless infancy, 
 my beloved Mrs. Fowler and her good sister pro- 
 tected my youth, I was happy with the Petits, I 
 was even not unhappy at Mrs. Trumble's, although 
 the habits there were uncongenial to me ; and 
 now I find, by chance, true warm affectionate 
 friends. Whatever the misfortunes of my parents 
 might have been, which, alas ! I shall probably 
 never know, they seem averted from me. But that 
 Providence watches over all his works, I should 
 think myself a special instance of his saving 
 care,"
 
 252 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Lady Derrington's sole occupation in life, 
 seemed to be to minister to the good of others ; 
 as she often sat musing by the fire, or seated in 
 an arm-chair in the recess of her window, either 
 in winter or summer, she would occasionally start 
 up with a recollection of some benevolent idea 
 which she hastened to see executed. Her scissors 
 and fingers were always employed in cutting out 
 linen or flannel into shapes for the poor; her mind 
 always devising schemes for the benefit of her 
 neighbours ; nor was it merely of their wants 
 she thought ; she delighted in their pleasures and 
 enjoyments, and was fond of inventing for her 
 numerous humble friends little surprises and 
 pleasant occasions for hilarity, such as are usually 
 confined by fashionable friends to each other on 
 jours de Van, fetes and other memorable epochs. 
 
 The birthday of a tenant's child was recol- 
 lected by her as an opportunity of sending some 
 useful present the opening of spring, the height 
 of summer, the close of autumn, the arrival of 
 winter all seasons were festive with her, for she 
 made them so to everyone within her reach. No 
 sooner had she disposed of one set of presents 
 and souvenirs than she prepared herself for 
 others; her catalogue of friends and neighbours- 
 was interminable, and each seemed to have a claim 
 011 her care, the sick, the ailing, the infirm, came
 
 CLARA FANE. 253 
 
 into her list with the young, the lively, the gay 
 and the grave. She had something suitable for 
 all and she forgot no one. 
 
 It is not surprising, that Lady Derrington was 
 beloved, yet she was by no means rich ; indeed, for 
 their rank, the family was considered the reverse ; 
 nil their fortune was, however, spent amongst their 
 tenantry, as they afforded themselves no house in 
 town and never gave expensive entertainments. 
 Miss Clinton was their only surviving child, a 
 large family, which they once possessed, having 
 reduced itself to this one, on whom all their 
 affections were centered; the loss of their last 
 son, at the age of twenty, about ten years before, 
 had so painfully affected Lord Derrington, that he 
 had never entirely recovered the shock and was 
 subject to fits of melancholy abstraction, which 
 explained the grave appearance which caused him 
 to be looked upon by a stranger as a proud man. 
 
 The same cause had operated on his daughter, 
 the youthful buoyancy of whose spirits had given 
 way to a sadness seldom overcome, and favoured 
 by the secluded and studious life she led. 
 
 In consequeuce of the untimely death of the 
 heir, the title and estates of Lord Derrington 
 would devolve on a distant branch, of which Mr. 
 Loftus was the representative, and if a wish found 
 its way into the hearts of the parents, disappointed 
 
 A
 
 254 CLARA FANE. 
 
 in all their aspirations as they had been, it was 
 that a union should take place between their 
 daughter and Edmond Loftus. He was, however, 
 several years younger than Miss Clinton, and 
 there seemed but little likelihood of the event 
 occurring. 
 
 Still there was no one in whose society Mr. 
 Loftus took so much pleasure as that of Miss 
 Clinton, and he had accustomed himself to consult 
 her and confide in her as in a sister. Whether 
 it was as safe for her affections as for his own to 
 encourage this kind of intimacy remained to be 
 decided, but, at all events, it did not occur to him 
 that anynearer relation could subsist between them 
 than that of the Platonic friendship, in which he 
 was a sincere believer, following the doctrine of 
 his intimate friend and master in philosophy, Sir 
 Anselm Fairfax, whose estates joined his own, and 
 who, though like himself rarely in the country, 
 was his frequent companion in other parts of the 
 kingdom, as well as abroad. 
 
 Isabella Clinton was a person of no ordinary 
 character ; added to a noble generous disposition, 
 alive to every delicacy of feeling and sentiment, 
 she possessed taste, and genius, and learning, such 
 as seldom fall to the share of her sex. She was a 
 poet in the true sense of the word, and her judg- 
 ment was as pure as her compositions. She
 
 CLARA FANE. 255 
 
 believed so far in "the invariable principles of 
 poetry " as to reject that which is common and 
 vulgar in expression, and understood true poetry 
 to be the most refined thought clothed in the 
 most refined language. 
 
 There is, doubtless, a poetry, like a painting and 
 a music, which is formed for and understood by 
 the masses, and the merits of which are not felt 
 by minds more highly cultivated, and who are as 
 little able to admire the favourites of the crowd 
 as the latter are of appreciating in a general way 
 the idols which they worship. 
 
 If it were not so, how comes it that reputations 
 are attained by persons who gain the most enthu- 
 siastic votaries, amongst whom glide occasionally 
 some few of higher judgment, while their writings, 
 to souls nurtured on the more etherial food, appear 
 altogether insipid, prosiac, flat, and colourless. 
 
 The vulgar and uneducated, or, what is worse, 
 the half-educated, who are altogether ignorant of, 
 or have not pursued, the divine inspirations of the 
 mighty masters of song, charmed at that which is 
 merely a far-off echo of their melody, are content 
 to take it for the original strain, and, having once 
 adopted this belief, they cannot recognise in the 
 true the merit which they have already accorded 
 to the false, and even go so far as to prefer the 
 tinsel they have believed to be gold to gold itself.
 
 256 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Still, however mortifying it may be to a sensi- 
 tive mind to see the triumph of mediocrity over 
 genius, there is a consolation in the truth ex- 
 pressed by the Eastern poem 
 
 " Though a piece of glass be worn on the head and a 
 jewel be trodden under foot, yet, at the time of buying and 
 selling, glass is glass and gems are gems." 
 
 There has always existed a crowd of bad poets 
 the more numerous in the interregnum of 
 great ones who are at once scattered, like a 
 swarm of fire-flies, by the bursting forth of a 
 great luminary; but since the insects, insignifi- 
 cant as they are, have yet a certain beauty of 
 their own capable of pleasing a little circle, it is 
 as well that they should sport their brief day, 
 delighting those eyes which would be blinded by 
 the rays of the sun. 
 
 It would have seemed natural that Isabella 
 Clinton and Edmond Loftus should have entered 
 so much into each other's tastes and feelings that 
 their union would have been an event probable in 
 spite of the slight disparity of age, which was not 
 very apparent. But " that which is possible never 
 happens," and the stars that ruled their destiny 
 seemed to have decreed the contrary. 
 
 Certain it is Loftus from the time of the 
 dejeuner in his gardens had been unable to think 
 of anything but his ideal, and that ideal had
 
 CLARA FANE. 257 
 
 shaped itself into one form, which was continually 
 intruding. His intended journey was put off 
 from day to day, and Mrs. Wybrow was agreeably 
 surprised to find that he lingered on, and, at last, 
 ceased to name his intention of leaving, instead of 
 which he was accustomed to order his horse and 
 take long rides about the country, frequently not 
 returning till late at night. 
 
 His rides had generally the same end in view, 
 and scarcely a day passed that he was not 
 descending the rocky road which conducted to 
 Coombe Place. 
 
 He did not always enter the gates, but he 
 would wander about the neighbourhood, take long 
 excursions over the neighbouring moors, and 
 sometimes, leaving his horse at some farm, he 
 would roam for hours in the high woods, losing 
 himself amongst the Druid stones that crown the 
 heights and lie scattered on the hills for miles. 
 
 He had one day reached an eminence, and had 
 paused in a thickly-wooded nook on a high rock 
 which overlookel the surrounding country that 
 lay far below outspread at his feet disclosing the 
 meanders of a winding river, which flowed through 
 meadows enamelled with flowers, interrupted here 
 and there by thatch-roofed hamlets, the blue 
 smoke of which went curling up amongst the 
 clustered trees.
 
 258 CLARA FANE. 
 
 The rock that rose behind him was huge and 
 black, and was hollowed out at the base in the 
 form of a seat, which tradition ascribed as the 
 resting-place of the Druid priests ; there were 
 steps cut on the face of the rock to some height, 
 and when the highest point was reached a hollow 
 appeared, where it was supposed Pagan sacrifices 
 took place. 
 
 He had seated himself on the very edge of the 
 overhanging cliff, and was reclining amongst the 
 thick underwood, entirely hidden from view, when 
 the sound of voices caused him to bury himself 
 still deeper in the shadowing boughs, in hopes of 
 escaping the observation of some idler, when the 
 words he heard convinced him not only that no 
 mere commonplace stroller had intruded on his 
 solitude, but that the object of his reveries was 
 herself in his vicinity. 
 
 Miss Clinton and Miss Fane had approached 
 close to the spot where he lay, and had seated 
 themselves in the recess of the rock called the 
 Druid's Chair. 
 
 " You tell me a curious romance," said Miss 
 Clinton, continuing a conversation, " and I am 
 indeed nattered and charmed at the confidence 
 you repose in me. But has nothing ever led you to 
 conjecture who your parents might be, and is this 
 motto the only clue to the mystery which you 
 possess ?"
 
 CLARA FANE. 259 
 
 " I have no other/' said Clara, " and all the 
 ingenuity of Susey Love, my nurse, and my own 
 combined could arrive at no solution. At so popu- 
 lous a place as Liverpool she thought that some 
 circumstances connected with the event might be 
 discovered, but she waited in vain. The facts were 
 stated by her husband at the time to the Mayor 
 of Liverpool, who had them put in writing, and 
 who even advertised, describing the facts, but no 
 notice was ever taken. Nurse Susey's husband 
 has continued to make long voyages ever since, 
 and he always had a romantic sailor-notion that 
 he should clear up the mystery, but he returned 
 over and over again, and had gained no informa- 
 tion, which, indeed, was not to be expected on 
 the high seas. When I was about six years old, 
 he met with a sad misfortune in the loss of the 
 little vessel he commanded, everything went ill 
 with him, and, from a state of comparative com- 
 fort, he was reduced to great necessity; he was, 
 at this time, obliged to sell his small house and 
 furniture, and take service in a merchant ship, 
 while poor Nurse Susey sought a place in a 
 menial capacity. 
 
 " Good fortune led her to Llangollen, where 
 she was recommended by a person known to Mrs. 
 Fowler, and as she would not part with me, whom 
 she considered as her own child, I was allowed to
 
 260 CLARA FAKE. 
 
 remain in the house. Mrs. Fowler, who was a 
 widow and childless, took a fancy to me, and, by 
 degrees, became very much attached to me. Her 
 sister, who has been an invali.l from her birth, 
 was amused at my childish ways, and, in the end, 
 I became almost necessary to them. 
 
 " In the course of a few years Love returned 
 from sea, having been very fortunate and having 
 saved money enough to re-establish his wife at 
 Liverpool and to purchase a vessel with which he 
 could trade as before. Susey intended to take me 
 back with her, but my new protectresses represented 
 to her so forcibly the advantage it would be to me 
 to receive from them the education they desired 
 to give me, that her anxiety for my welfare over- 
 came her wish to have me with her, and I was 
 accordingly left in the care of those tender friends, 
 who have ever since protected me. I often saw 
 dear Nurse Susey, who is living happily at Liver- 
 pool, and her husband continues to succeed in 
 every voyage he takes. 
 
 " Two years ago Mrs. Fowler sent me to 
 Paris in the charge of an old friend of hers, who 
 had married a French professor of languages, and 
 who has a school at Passy. There I found new 
 friends in Madame Petit and her daughter Eu- 
 genie, who has since married her cousin, a young 
 jeweller in Paris. I remained with them in order
 
 CLARA FANE. 261 
 
 to carry on my studies, and had great advantages 
 there. Mrs. Fowler came to fetch me and we 
 returned together to England. I have already 
 related to you the rest of my adventures, and 
 perhaps fate has more in store for me yet." 
 
 " The rest of her adventures !" thought 
 Edmond Loftus, " has she named the episode 
 of Rose Cottage, and the part I have had in the 
 romance of her life ?" 
 
 This question he asked himself uneasily, and 
 became extremely uncomfortable in the idea of 
 having unwittingly heard already so much. In 
 order to avoid betraying himself, he softly rose 
 from his bed of leaves and let himself slip forward 
 over the rock, clinging to the climbing branches 
 till he could leap to a projection below, which 
 having done, he had only to descend by a winding 
 path in the wood, and, instead of arriving at the 
 Druid's Chair, he found himself several hundred 
 feet below, near the borders of the winding river, 
 where he seated himself and fell into a new train 
 of reflection. 
 
 " There is a mystery hangs over this strange 
 girl," thought he, " which perplexes me. Is she 
 really what she seems ? Every day the papers 
 teem with histories of adventuresses, who assume 
 the most respectable and seductive forms, and, 
 after having gained friends and advantages, are
 
 262 CLARA FANE. 
 
 discovered to be impostors. What madness leads 
 me towards this girl? she does not seem to seek 
 me, yet she will fall into my path. I was startled 
 at her apparition in my masquerading visit in 
 Poland Street with Wybrow ; she then plants 
 herself in my own neighbourhood perhaps by 
 design who can tell ? Yet she certainly dis- 
 couraged me sufficiently, but then I appeared to 
 her a poor artist or a nameless adventurer. Her 
 manner is changed to me since, and I cannot 
 avoid treating her with respect and deference. 
 Isabella has been fascinated with her, as I was, 
 and places full reliance on her stories ; what has 
 she told ? Would that I had heard the rest ; it 
 was, no doubt, a notable mystery !" 
 
 He continued thus to torment himself for 
 some time, and at length rose, and returning to 
 the farm-house, reclaimed his horse, and slowly 
 took his way back to Loftus Hall. 
 
 Clara, in relating her story to Miss Clinton, 
 had not named him. She considered that, in 
 return for the offered friendship of her new and 
 disinterested friend, she was bound to make her 
 aware of the position she held in society, but she 
 did not think it necessary to enter into details 
 which might have a disagreeable' effect on the 
 hearer, might prejudice her against another, and, 
 as concerned herself, revive recollections of an
 
 CLARA FANE. 263 
 
 event now passed away together with the other 
 actors, for she concluded that it was extremely 
 unlikely she should ever meet with any of the 
 inmates of Rose Cottage again. She wished to 
 dwell on her visit there as little as possible for the 
 repose of her own mind, as the hints thrown out 
 by Mr. Loftus respecting the character of Mrs. 
 Frillet rendered her recollections of that otherwise 
 pleasant episode jarring to the harmony of her 
 feelings. 
 
 " I cannot/' she reflected, " think ill of Mr. 
 Loftus now that I know him in his proper 
 capacity, and ought not to name the caprice 
 which induced him to submit to this absurd dis- 
 guise ; it was probably merely for an idle amuse- 
 ment and had no deeper motive. He would not 
 now, I am certain, hazard such a step again with 
 regard to me; his manner is changed, and he 
 gives me the effect of being vexed at what has 
 passed, It is better to forget it and let the affair 
 fade away altogether." 
 
 Clara reasoned thus, acting on the suggestion 
 of her own pure mind, not suspecting herself to 
 be the object of either curiosity or envy to any 
 one, and quite unconscious of the heart-burning 
 and universal commotion she had caused in the 
 neighbourhood.
 
 264 CLARA FANE 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 This touches me in reputation. 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 IT would seem that a host with the very best 
 intentions generally fails to give satisfaction to all 
 his guests at a party. He is too attentive to some 
 or too little so to others ; he shows a preference 
 and causes jealousies ; he seeks to please all and 
 annoys many ; and, by way of reward for the 
 trouble he has given himself, he is usually abused 
 behind his back, and voted to possess every evil 
 quality under the sun because he has failed to fulfil 
 all the expectations the lively fancies of his guests 
 had indulged in. 
 
 In the Brixton family there was considerable 
 excitement when the Lady-mother related to her 
 daughters the fact of her having, in a conversation 
 with Mrs. Trumble, discovered that Clara was in 
 so humble a capacity as a teacher.
 
 CLARA FANE. 265 
 
 ' ' Upon my word," she remarked, " it's like 
 the impudence of some people inviting who they 
 please to other people's houses, and to meet other 
 people as good as themselves. I suppose Mrs. 
 Goldspiu took that upon her, for I decided against 
 the whole lot at the School from the first, and she 
 must have done it to spite me, I suppose, but I'll 
 manage to be even with her somehow." 
 
 " Would you believe it too I" cried Miss Kate, 
 " that Mr. Loftus was more attentive to that girl 
 than to any one there. There she was, hanging 
 on his arm, with her hands full of roses, which he 
 had given her, and I saw him looking at her, and 
 watching her like a cat, all the time. He seemed 
 as if he saw nothing but her : for my part I see 
 nothing, at all events, to admire in such a pale 
 die-away-looking chit as that. As for Loftus, 
 after all he has said to me, one way and another, 
 I think his conduct shameful." 
 
 " You couldn't have played your cards well, 
 Kitty," said her mother ; " I got you a good 
 opportunity, and you had time enough for flirting 
 and bringing him round, and you don't seem to 
 have made any way." 
 
 " Why, what would you have me do ?" cried 
 her daughter, snappishly ; " I couldn't ask him, 
 could I ? though I did pretty near it. He's as 
 VOL. i. N
 
 266 CLARA FANE. 
 
 stupid as a clod, or he'd have seen fast enough 
 what I was aiming at." 
 
 " Perhaps he saw too clear," observed Miss 
 Constantia ; " men don't like forwardness, and I, 
 for one, never thought Loftus was in love with 
 you at all." 
 
 " What do you mean, Miss, by that ?" cried 
 her sister, passionately ; " he's as much in love 
 with me as your fine Captain is with you. I'm 
 sure it's quite a scandal your going about as you 
 do with him. Ben Goldspin says it the laugh of 
 the county, and that Captain Brighty is nothing 
 but an old carpenter's son, with all his brag of 
 lords and ladies." 
 
 " What does Ben Goldspin know of my 
 affairs ?" exclaimed Miss Stanny, colouring very 
 red ; " and what right has such a cub as he to 
 name me at all. If you think him good enough 
 to dance and flirt with, as you do, I don't." 
 
 " I'll tell you what, girls," interposed their 
 mamma, " I'll put an end to all this quarrelling 
 at once. Its clear that Kate's chance is a poor 
 one, and, if it's true that the Captain's family is 
 beneath us, one is as little likely to go off as the 
 other, for I'll not encourage that dandy officer 
 any more, and as for Loftus you must give him 
 up, Kate, and set your cap at some one else."
 
 CLARA FANE. 267 
 
 " Ben Goldspin, perhaps ! " observed Miss 
 Stanny, sneering. 
 
 He's better than a carpenter's heir," retorted 
 her sister. 
 
 "The captain is no such thing," said Miss 
 Stanny, in a fury, " and, if he is, he did more 
 than your fine squire, for he proposed to me at 
 the breakfast, and, what's more, I accepted him : 
 so there now." 
 
 " Indeed," said Lady Brixton ; " did you ! and 
 without waiting for my consent." 
 
 " What was the good of it," replied Miss 
 Stanny ; " you knew all along he was courting 
 me, and you never said I was not to accept him : 
 so I've done it, and, as I'm of age, I mean to 
 stand to the bargain." 
 
 " Really, Miss, you are a very decided young 
 lady," said her mother, " but perhaps you may 
 change your tone, or your Captain may, when I 
 tell you that, without my consent, you haven't a 
 shilling, of age or not. The money is left to me 
 to do as I please with, and I can, if I like, throw 
 it into the streets if you don't happen to please 
 me, and who will may pick it up." 
 
 Miss Stanny and Miss Kate both stared at 
 this piece of intelligence, and it went a great way 
 towards cooling the impetuosity of their feelings ; 
 they subsided, therefore, into sulkiness, and when 
 
 N 2
 
 268 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the hour came for their usual ride neither of the 
 young ladies was in the happiest of moods. 
 
 " And so/' began Miss Stanny, to her lover, 
 the Captain, who was her companion on the way, 
 "you have been telling me fine stories all this 
 time about your family your cousin, Sir John 
 Flarum, and your cousin, Lady Dubberley; I 
 wonder how you dare to look me in the face." 
 
 " What ails my adored angel ! " exclaimed the 
 Captain, who had been favoured with this remark^ 
 the first he had obtained during their ride in spite 
 of his flatteries and fine speeches ; " what have 
 my cousins done to incur your anger ; what have 
 I done ? I give you my word I am thunderstruck, 
 annihilated by these frowns explain ! explain ! 
 Is this the tone suitable to our revealed affec- 
 tion ?" 
 
 " Revealed fiddlestick !" cried Miss Stanny; 
 " there's more revealed than perhaps you'll like, if 
 all's true that Ben Goldspin has been saying." 
 
 The Captain's eyes flashed and he grasped his 
 whip somewhat tighter in his hand, as he asked 
 rather seriously 
 
 " Miss Brixton, what am I to understand by 
 this ; has any one dared to make free with my 
 affairs ?" 
 
 " To be sure they have," said Miss Stanny ; 
 * f you went on bragging to me about your grand
 
 CLARA FANE. 269 
 
 relations, and I repeated what you said to make 
 ths G-oldspins mad, and now it turns out that you 
 are only a tradesman's son after all. It's enough 
 to put one out." 
 
 Captain Brighty's check became the colour of 
 crimson in a moment and then turned very pale. 
 
 "And it's t;j Mr. Ben Goldspin that I am 
 indebted for this communication, so politely trans- 
 ferred to me ? I give you my word he shall 
 repent it." 
 
 And, as the gallant officer spoke, he looked as 
 if he was by no means feigning. 
 
 " There's no use getting into a passion," said 
 Constantia, cooling as her lover became irritated; 
 " you'd no business to deceive me and let me go 
 and make myself ridiculous. Why did you pass 
 yourself off for a great man, and make me think, 
 if I married you, I might be cousin to a duchess. 
 It was too bad." 
 
 " My sweet Stanny," said Captain Brighty, 
 sneeringly, " you are deceived but not by me. 
 My relatives, I give you my word," are what I 
 represented; they stand on an equal footing with 
 the late Lord Mayor Brixton." 
 
 " That's nothing to do with it," said Miss 
 Stanny, biting her lip ; " you never spoke of trade, 
 and you know I hate tradespeople, and I wouldn't 
 forgive the best man in England who told me a
 
 270 CLARA FANE. 
 
 parcel of rigmaroles about great people that are 
 nobodies. I dare say you wouldn't like to hear 
 that I haven't got a shilling to help myself, and 
 all through you." 
 
 " Like to hear it," exclaimed Captain Brighty, 
 sensibly touched ; " why, my adorable, what do 
 you mean ?" 
 
 " That mamma says if I don't marry a gentle- 
 man, she isn't obliged to give me my fortune/' 
 returned Miss Stanny ; " and if I marry to dis- 
 please her there's an end of my expectations." 
 
 " Oh !" said the captain, drawing a long breath, 
 " that's the way the land lies, is it ? but if she 
 gives her consent it makes all the difference !" 
 
 " To be sure," replied Miss Stanny, " so you 
 see our plan of running away is no good. I've 
 as much right as she has to be in a rage, and I 
 don't know, but what I shan't be friends with you 
 again, and give you up at once." 
 
 " Oh, my enchantress/' said the captain, 
 coolly, " you are cruelly unjust, but you could not 
 act so falsely. If I never named to you the pro- 
 fession of my honoured papa, it was that I really 
 did not think myself bound to bore you with my 
 birth and parentage. My cousin, Lady Dubberly, 
 is at this moment the most fashionable woman in 
 Belgravia, she is married to one of the first 
 baronets in the kingdom; and as for Sir
 
 CLARA FANE. 271 
 
 John Flarum, his title is a reward for faithful 
 services to government in trying times. My dear 
 papa is retired from the business that occupied 
 his leisure hours, and is now an M.P. for his 
 county. I fancy, therefore, that the mesalliance 
 would not be so great as it appeared at first to 
 you and your aristocratic mamma; but, as my 
 papa, I give you my word, would not like a daugh- 
 ter-in-law without money, I should not wonder if 
 I were obliged, my sweet beloved, to cut the con- 
 nexion after all." 
 
 Miss Stanny started. 
 
 " Don't be ridiculous," said she, rather tremu- 
 lously, but endeavouring to appear indifferent, 
 "I see you can't take a joke I didn't mean to 
 say that I should give you up and as for mamma, 
 you have only to make your court to her and 
 we'll see what can be done." 
 
 " Now, Stanny," said the captain, approaching 
 his horse very near her's, " let us understand each 
 other. I did not say anything about my birth, 
 because I did not think the house of Brixton so 
 very illustrious as to require that I should be over 
 candid. My old dad is a capital fellow in his way, 
 but he likes money and does not allow me over 
 much, if I marry a woman with fortune it will 
 be all right with him and he'll double our income. 
 I'm his eldest son, and he sent me into the army
 
 272 CLARA FANE. 
 
 at my persuasion, but he lias winced ever since at 
 the expense and he's growing old and stingy and 
 won't stand much more ; I have two other bro- 
 thers, and one is in " the captain gulped, but 
 continued, " in the business, and, if I displease 
 him, I have but a poor chance. Now, if you 
 really care for me, as you have professed, you will 
 not give me up because of the paltry chatter of a 
 puppy whom I mean to chastise and you will 
 exert the good sense I imagine you have, I will do 
 all I can to gain over my lady, and we shall be 
 married after all. But, Stanny, observe me I 
 am not so much in love as to put up with insult 
 from any one, male or female, and say but the 
 word that you prefer looking after a better match, 
 and I give you back your promise ; when this ride 
 is over I quit you, and I give you my word, I shall 
 not seek you again." 
 
 Miss Stanny looked at her lover, and saw in 
 his countenance a confirmation of his words ; he 
 had never appeared handsomer in her eyes and 
 there was a vague purpose which she guessed, as 
 she watched his countenance, that convinced her 
 that he would do something which would cover 
 her with eclat. 
 
 " I will not lose him," she thought, " to give 
 the Goldspin's a triumph and let Kate crow over 
 me."
 
 CLARA FANE. 273 
 
 " "What a temper you are, -to be sure/' said 
 she, " I never wanted to quarrel, I only just told 
 you what Ben Goldspin said, and you fly out in 
 this way as if I meant to give you up. I'm 
 sure I " 
 
 Here she found her emotion too strong for her 
 voice, and the captain, thoroughly softened, had 
 now only to utter a variety of pleasing nothings, 
 protestations, &c., until at the end of their ride 
 they parted better friends than before. 
 
 A few days after, Lady Brixton received by 
 rail, a large packing case containing some choice 
 flowers and fruit of the most surpassing beauty, 
 from an unknown friend, and on casually naming 
 the fact in the morning, when Captain Brighty 
 rode over to pay her a visit, before there had been 
 time to deny him his privilege, he remarked in- 
 differently 
 
 " I give you my word, my lady, I should not 
 be at all surprised if my old dad had stripped his 
 conservatory for you ; he has heard so much of 
 you from me of late that he wishes to show his 
 respects to the friend of his son." 
 
 "Do you mean to say, captain," said Lady 
 Brixton, "that these things came from your 
 father ?" 
 
 " I give you my word, my lady," returned the 
 officer, "that they can come from no other 
 
 N 3
 
 274- CLARA FANE. 
 
 quarter, the old gentleman is very sly, deuced 
 gallant, and from my soul, I feel a little uneasy ; 
 he is a widower for the third time and near eighty, 
 but he is easily moved with the report of beauty, 
 and I have sent such flaming accounts of you to 
 
 him that he is capable of , 'pon my soul 
 
 I wouldn't answer for his popping the question in 
 one of the flower buds !" 
 Lady Brixton laughed. 
 
 " An old woman like me \" said she, " with 
 two great tall daughters, a likely matter \" 
 
 "Likely enough, by Jove!" returned he, 
 " you are just the sort of woman he admires and 
 he has an odd fancy, though of an old Norman 
 family himself, came over with the conqueror we 
 bear a spur in our shield presented on the spot 
 by William, when my ancestor gave his horse to 
 the Duke at the moment that his steed was killed 
 under him my father has an odd notion that 
 there is no true nobility out of the city of London, 
 and, says he the Brixtons have always been city 
 people and do honour to the county. Did I ever 
 tell you, how he became engaged in trade, 
 ha ! ha ! strange enough, as I often say to my 
 cousin, Lady Dubberly, whose husband is one of 
 the oldest baronets in England, strange enough 
 how our uncle's father's brother happened to take 
 up trade in the city. He was a cavalier of
 
 CLARA FANE. 275 
 
 Charles's, and persecuted for his attachment to 
 the monarch, it was in the time of old Noll, and, 
 pursued by his enemies, he took refuge on Lon- 
 don-bridge in a carpenter's shop, he begged to be 
 concealed and the good old tradesman consented 
 to hide him. The next day, there was a high 
 wind ; the carpenter's pretty daughter was hanging 
 her neck out at the little window to look at a pro- 
 cession on the river, the wind took her at the 
 moment that she had leant too far, and unable to 
 regain her balance, over she went into the water. 
 Our ancestor, Sir Wildebrand St. Bride, from 
 which Brighty is a corruption, at that instant was 
 looking out at the window above, had observed 
 her, for he had an eye to beauty, and the moment 
 she fell, regardless of all but her danger, out he 
 was in a twinkling after her, and caught her 
 clothes j ust as she was sinking, a boat took them 
 to shore, he restored the daughter to her father 
 who, taking out a heavy purse from a cabinet in 
 his workshop, exclaimed ' Bravo cavalier ! 1 give 
 you my daughter and this purse, as an earnest of 
 all the rest which fills this cabinet. Marry her, 
 but on this condition, never be above my trade, 
 which has gained me all this wealth, and let your 
 children's children belong to the Carpenters' 
 Company from this time forth.' 
 
 " We kept the word given till the present day,
 
 276 CLARA 
 
 for my father himself dabbled in that style of 
 thing. You have heard of the Chevalier Errard ? 
 Well, a man of noble family like him did not 
 disdain to improve the melody of England ; he 
 made harps ; my father made pianofortes. He 
 made besides a large fortune, on which he retired, 
 and, as for me the tradition finishes with vie 
 I have no taste for carpenter's work further than 
 that my sword will make for me ' in th' eminent 
 deadly breach/ as Cuthbert of our's says in the 
 play when he acts Othello. >J 
 
 Lady Brixton had not a word in reply 
 to this well-timed tirade, and, though she had 
 resolved to give the Captain his conge the very 
 first time he visited her again, she could not find 
 it in her heart to be harsh to the descendant of an 
 old Norman family, and one whose papa was so 
 great an admirer of beauty and had so judicious a 
 respect for the dignity of true city families. The 
 consequence was that Captain Brighty, whom she 
 ever afterwards called St. Bride, was received on 
 the usual footing, and all recollections of the 
 family quarrel on his account, was buried in 
 oblivion. 
 
 Whether the descendant of William the Con- 
 queror's Knight of the Spur forgot the causes of 
 it so easilv will be hereafter known.
 
 CLARA FANE. 277 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not 
 escape calumny. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 MRS. GOLDSPIN was sitting in state to receive 
 visitors according to her wont about the same time 
 as this incident occurred in the Brixton family, 
 and was fuming at some recollection which dis- 
 turbed the equinamity of her temper, when Lady 
 Brixton was announced. 
 
 This visit was a very rare occurrence, and 
 would not have taken place now but for form's 
 sake after their association at Mr. Loftus's party. 
 Their conversation, though apparently friendly, 
 betrayed the secret jealousies of either party, 
 which peeped out occasionally, whenever an 
 opportunity occurred. 
 
 " Well, on the whole," said Mrs. Goldspin, 
 " the party at Loftus Hall went off pretty well,
 
 273 CLARA FANE. 
 
 though, really I must say, that I think the marked 
 way in which your daughter Kate was neglected 
 must have rather put you out at least it did me, 
 for I am really so fond of her she looked so well, 
 too, in her pink: how pink does become your 
 family ! some complexions it will, and you having 
 all high colours, it softens them down so ; though 
 some people think it unbecoming, and I heard 
 Mr. Loftus say it was a colour he didn't like. I 
 think that poor Miss Fane was dressed in white ; 
 wasn't she ?" 
 
 " I'm sure I never looked at her," said Lady 
 Brixton ; " I really can't think how such a person 
 happened to be there. I must say, I'm surprised 
 that I wasn't consulted before she was invited." 
 
 " Why, my dear Lady Brixton," said Mrs. 
 Goldspin, " it was your own invitation ; I had no 
 hand in it, I vow." 
 
 " I !" screamed Lady Brixton ; " why, I never 
 knew scarcely of her existence, and when I saw 
 her there, says I to Kate, ' oh, I suppose it's a 
 poor relation of Mrs. Goldspin's, and she's got 
 her invited.' " 
 
 " Well, that is good," retorted Mrs. Goldspin; 
 " when I never had such an idea, and should less 
 if I had known all I know of her now. A person 
 of that description to be admitted into the sphere 
 in which I move is really too bad."
 
 CLARA FANE. 279 
 
 " What is she then ?" asked Lady Brixton ; 
 her hope of hearing a little scandal overcoming 
 her anger. 
 
 " It's a very mysterious affair, indeed/' said 
 Mrs. Goldspin : " this Miss Fane is some old 
 flame of Mr. Loftus's, whom he has brought here, 
 and palmed off upon us in the country as a 
 respectable person in order to conceal his con- 
 nexion with her. My maid happens to be ih 
 cousin of a young girl who is a parlour boarder 
 at Mrs. Trumble's, and she found out that this 
 dissolute young man has been visiting this wicked 
 young woman disguised as an artist, and she has 
 received him, unknown to Mrs. Trumble; going 
 out to take walks with him by moonlight, dimb- 
 ing over the garden wall, and playing on the flute, 
 and meeting him at the Well-flowering, and pre- 
 tending to be hurt to get taken to his house. 
 Oh ! such a scene of wickedness ! it's enough to 
 make one's hair stand on end. I shall make it 
 my business to call at Mrs. Trumble's and tell her 
 what has been going on in her school, and recom- 
 mend her to get rid of her teacher as soon as she 
 can." 
 
 " Bless my heart," said Lady Brixton, " how 
 glad I am to have discovered this ; how fortunate 
 that my Kate refused Mr. Loftus the other day at 
 the breakfast. Law ! she has such a sensitive
 
 280 CLARA FANE. 
 
 mind ; she never could have stood this news if she 
 had consented to be his wife; but, somehow, she 
 never liked him. 'Ma/ she would say to me, 
 < there's something in his face that doesn't suit 
 me ; he isn't the man for my money.' }: 
 
 " I should think not," replied Mrs. Goldspin, 
 " but, as Ben says, girls often deceive themselves 
 if one pays them a bit of attention which means 
 nothing. However, she's had a narrow escape : 
 met) are really not to be trusted now-a-days. 
 What a shocking thing about the Captain ! " 
 
 " What about him ?" said Lady Brixton. 
 
 " Why, his turning out an impostor, you 
 know," said Mrs. Goldspin, "and being only a 
 carpenter's son. I feel for Miss Constantia, and 
 I know how to appreciate a mother's vexations." 
 
 " I dare say you have cause," retorted Lady 
 Brixton, " but in this case, I have only to tell you 
 as a friend that the less you speak on the subject 
 of the Captain the better, or it may be the worse 
 for other folks who shall be nameless. It's been 
 traced to certain people, this stupid report, and 
 will only do the inventor harm, and serve the 
 object of his spite. My daughter is to be married 
 to the Captain soon, who is the descendant of an 
 old Norman knight of William the Conqueror's 
 time, and who will take his ancient name of St. 
 Bride when he enters our family. As for carpen-
 
 CLARA FANE. 281 
 
 tering, it's all a farce : old Mr. Brighty, being fond 
 of music, amused himself with a great wholesale 
 pianoforte warehouse, which happened to turn out 
 lucrative, but he got tired of it, and is now an M.P. 
 I will thank you, Ma'am, to mention this where it 
 may be useful, as a gentle hint thrown out if you 
 should happen to know the author of the report 
 that he should disappear a short time, if he would 
 escape a horsewhipping, might not be mis- 
 placed." 
 
 So saying Lady Brixton rose and took her 
 leave, while Mrs. Goldspin, a little startled at her 
 threat, remained to retail to all her visitors the 
 history of the delinquency of the unconscious 
 Clara. 
 
 The information, such as it was, was derived 
 from an excellent source the recounter being no 
 other than Charlotte, who was passing a week 
 with her cousin during the holidays, and who, 
 having made it a point to listen at the door when 
 the supposed Mr. Clark sought his sittings of 
 Clara, had been a witness of the last scene 
 between them. As, however, she did not dare to 
 confess the precise method she had adopted to 
 arrive at this knowledge, she gave out to her 
 cousin that she possessed the faculty of clairvo- 
 yance in so remarkable a degree that she was able 
 to discover the most hidden secrets, and the
 
 282 CLARA FANE. 
 
 catalogue of disclosures she poured into the ear 
 of her credulous auditor was so astonishing that 
 her reputation as a sonnambulist was at once 
 established. Mrs. Goldspin's curiosity was roused, 
 and the revelation made to her, besides a 
 variety of other matter connected with her neigh- 
 bours' affairs, quite edified that lady. 
 
 As extreme respectability was the great ambi- 
 tion of Mrs. Goldspin, she lost no time in driving 
 to Mrs. Trumble's, who astonished at the unusual 
 honour paid her by her proud neighbour, whose 
 bow at church was supposed to confer on her a 
 special favour, was put quite in a bustle and en- 
 tered her best parlour where the great lady was 
 already seated, with her complexion a good deal 
 heightened and her nasal organ considerably 
 agitated. 
 
 "Mrs. Trumble," began Mrs. Goldspin, so- 
 lemnly, after a few words of dignified greeting 
 had passed, "I am not, I believe, mistaken in 
 thinking that the young person who accompanied 
 you to Loftus Hall on a late occasion is a teacher 
 in your school ?" 
 
 "Certainly, ma'am," replied the lady inter- 
 rogated ; " Miss Fane I suppose you mean ?" 
 
 " I do," returned Mrs. Goldspin ; " before you 
 admitted her into your family I presume you were
 
 CLARA FANE. 283 
 
 acquainted with her history and connexions, and 
 were quite satisfied of her respectability ?" 
 
 " Doubtless, ma'am," said Mrs. Trumble, hesi- 
 tating, " that is I engaged her from an advertise- 
 ment, and was quite satisfied before I took her." 
 
 " Oh, an advertisement, ma'am," returned 
 Mrs. Goldspin ; " let me tell you that that is a 
 very unsatisfactory method any one may adver- 
 vise and represent themselves as they please. 
 Were you aware of her previous acquaintance 
 with Mr. Loftus her coming here as a blind, 
 and her receiving him in a disguise ?" 
 
 "Lord bless me, ma'am, no," cried Mrs. 
 Trumble; " she never knew him before she came 
 here. She told me so." 
 
 " She told you probably much that you be- 
 lieve, which I confess surprises me in a woman of 
 your age," said Mrs. Goldspin; "did you never 
 suspect that Clark, the artist, and Mr. Loftus 
 were one and the same ?" 
 
 " Good gracious me !" exclaimed Mrs. Trum- 
 ble; " what a fool I've been ! never to have seen 
 through it all. It comes upon me like lightning 
 now to be sure ! ^nd Clark gone off, and Miss 
 with all her fine lady airs she was always fit, I 
 said, only to be put under a glass case to be 
 looked at ! Well, how did you find at all out, 
 ma'am ?"
 
 284 CLARA FANE. 
 
 " I am not at liberty to inform you," implied 
 Mrs. Goldspin; "you have been very incautious, 
 and I hope this will be a warning to you another 
 time. You must get rid of this young woman or 
 your school will soon suffer. I am sorry to find 
 Mr. Loftus has so disgraced himself and offered 
 such an insult to persons of family in his neigh- 
 bourhood. Being at the head of the aristocracy 
 in this part of the world, you know, I feel it my 
 duty if I observe anything wrong to set it right. 
 Where is the benighted young person now ?" 
 
 " She is on a visit with Miss Clinton for the 
 holidays. Law ! how shocked she will be when 
 she knows it," said Mrs. Trumble. 
 
 " I shall think it my duty then to inform Lady 
 Derrington immediately," said Mrs. Goldspin, 
 with an important air, " of the fact that she has 
 admitted a person of that description beneath her 
 roof." 
 
 So saying she rose, and taking leave of Mrs. 
 Trumble, who was full of regrets and apologies 
 that such an event should have happened in her 
 house, returned to her carriage, after giving orders 
 to her coachman to drive to Qpombe Place. 
 
 Mrs. Trumble had to devour her vexation 
 alone, for Miss Giles was absent on a visit for the 
 holidays, leaving her in possession. As her union 
 with the apothecary was not fixed to occur till the
 
 CLARA FANE. 285 
 
 year following, Mrs. Trumble was particularly 
 annoyed that their domestic arrangements should 
 be deranged before that time. Clara's services 
 were very valuable to her, and, in spite of the 
 fine lady airs of which she complained, but which 
 did not in fact, as she well knew, exist, she had 
 no one fault to find with her teacher, whose sin- 
 gularly low salary was, besides, extremely con- 
 venient to her finances. 
 
 " What an artful creature she must be !" said 
 she, mentally ; " to carry on this falsehood so well 
 and I never to see through that Clark ! well, 
 it's very odd, but every time I saw Mr. Loftus I 
 was reminded of the fellow but he must be as 
 good an actor as she to take me in so." 
 
 Mrs. Trumble seldom indulged in epistolary 
 correspondence, and was only induced to trust her 
 powers of composition by necessity. Miss Giles' 
 department was exclusively that of literature in 
 all its branches, and she never interfered with 
 that perogative for good reasons. She felt, how- 
 ever, that this was an exception, and considered 
 that if she did not give due notice to Miss Fane 
 she might perhaps Jay herself open to some diffi- 
 culties, the mild and gentle character of that young 
 lady, having instantly undergone a transformation 
 in her mind, which represented her as the pos- 
 sessor of every description of evil quality. Under
 
 286 CLARA FANE. 
 
 the excitement of the moment she, therefore, sat 
 herself down to her desk and composed the fol- 
 lowing epistle, which she lost no time in causing 
 to be forwarded to Clara. 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 " Mrs. Trumble's compliments to the 
 lady who she has eitherto called her teecher and 
 beg to say that her unwharrentable Conduct in 
 encouraging of mr. Clark and knowing of Him to 
 be Mr. loftus is such that I cannot in footur re- 
 ceeive you into my rouf for the sake of the Re- 
 spectful caracter of my School which I flatter 
 myself will not have my doors Darkened by you 
 again. 
 
 " Your box as as been left will be sent 
 whear you desire as I do not wish to take advan- 
 tage of your misfortin and hopes you will Turn 
 over a new Leaf 
 
 " with surprise at your Conduct 
 " Miss Fane, I am 
 " Your's &c. 
 
 "ANN TRUMBLE." 
 
 This letter reached Clara in due course, and 
 filled her mind with the most distressing con- 
 jectures : that which she had long feared had 
 evidently now come to pass, and Mrs. Trumble
 
 CLARA FANE. 287 
 
 had become aware, from some other source, of the 
 vexatious truth respecting Mr. Loftus. She re- 
 proached herself with not having at once, as soon 
 as she discovered the identity, disclosed it to the 
 persons with whom she resided, and she now trem- 
 bled least some misstatement should reach the ears 
 of her present kind friends. Her spirits, always so 
 buoyant, began to give way under this trial, which 
 she was congratulating herself on having sur- 
 mounted, and, still holding Mrs. Trumble's letter 
 in her hand, she remained in an attitude of ex- 
 treme depression, when the door of the little 
 library in which she sat opened, and Lady Der- 
 rington entered. By the unusual gravity of her 
 countenance, Clara saw at once that she had heard 
 something unpleasant relative to herself, and, 
 quite overcome with the probable consequence of 
 the disclosure, she was unable to refrain from 
 a burst of tears, as, throwing herself back in her 
 chair, she covered her face with her hands. 
 
 Lady Derrington approached, and seating her- 
 self near her spoke in a gentle tone 
 
 " My dear young lady," said she, " I see by 
 your agitation that you know what has occurred. 
 I am, therefore, spared the pain of relating it to 
 you; can you, as I hope, can you explain this 
 disagreeable mystery in a way to satisfy those
 
 288 CLARA FANE. 
 
 Mho probably accuse you from some interested 
 motive ?" 
 
 Clara looked up through her tears, and taking 
 Lady Derrington's offered hand, felt re-assured 
 by the benevolent expression of her countenance, 
 to say 
 
 " I scarcely know what the accusation against 
 me is, this strange letter of Mrs. Trumble's, un- 
 fortunately speaks truth, and appearances I am 
 aware are much against me. I am, however, less 
 blameable than she imagines, much as I now 
 reproach myself with having concealed the facts 
 from her. Has she written to your ladyship in 
 the same manner as she has addressed me ?" 
 
 She gave Mrs. Trumble's letter, as she spoke, 
 to Lady Derrington, who glanced over it with a 
 smile. 
 
 " This good lady," said she, " is not likely to 
 take a very delicate course, at all events, in the 
 affair. But she has not favoured me with a simi- 
 lar epistle. It is from one of our neighbours that 
 I am indebted for the narrative, certainly a strange 
 one, which throws blame on you. I have little 
 doubt but that you will be able to clear up the 
 whole affair in a few words. Will you, therefore, 
 let me hear your version, in order that I may 
 have it in my power to reply to any further ques- 
 tions that may be asked me."
 
 CLARA FANE. 289 
 
 "My dear madam," said Clara, drying her 
 eyes, " it is foolish of me to give way to the sor- 
 row which this last proceeding has caused ; I 
 ought to have anticipated, that the unpleasant 
 mystery which I have endured during my stay at 
 Mrs. Trumble's school, must be some time or 
 other brought to light. I am no further to blame 
 in the affair than that I concealed my recognition 
 of Mr. Loftus when I saw him at the county 
 ball. Although I discovered that the false Mr. 
 Clark was an impostor, I did not know who he 
 really was till then, and as Mr. Loftus's conduct 
 has since been so entirely opposite to that which 
 he so unaccountably adopted in the first instance, 
 I did not dare, nor did I desire to make known 
 to persons qiiite uninterested in me, a weakness 
 on his part of which he is now evidently ashamed. 
 I did not name either to Mrs. Wybrow, Mrs. 
 Trumble, or Miss Clinton, these facts for the 
 reasons I give ; perhaps I have judged ill, but 
 I assure you, madam, I acted for the best. Had 
 I done otherwise I might have injured Mr. 
 Loftus as well as myself. I grieve to find, that I 
 have not been able to escape doing precisely that 
 which I was striving to avoid/' 
 
 The tone of simplicity and candour with which 
 Clara related these circumstances, at once con- 
 VOL. i. o
 
 290 CLARA FANE. 
 
 vinced Lady Derrington that she was listening to 
 the truth. 
 
 " I wish I had known you before/' said she, 
 " and had had a right to expect your confidence. 
 As you were placed, I think you did right in not 
 making an eclat. As for Edmond, he deserves 
 great censure and has very much lowered himself 
 in my esteem : his conduct has been ungenerous 
 and designing ; and his motive, I fear, was bad." 
 
 "I hope, my dear madam," said Clara, with 
 animation, "it will not be necessary that Mr. 
 Loftus should be informed of all this. I am 
 already placed in a very delicate position as re- 
 gards him, and, as I really believe he is sorry 
 for his caprice, I hope you will not visit him with 
 your displeasure; he probably repents already, 
 and it would be useless to wound him further." 
 
 " Do not be too indulgent to him, my dear," 
 said Lady Derrington, " I know the world better 
 than you do, and I see his motives plainer ; he is 
 not an acquaintance fit for you in your present 
 position. He may be more dangerous than you 
 think ; in the first place because he seeks you,, 
 and in the next because he is not a man to be 
 treated with indifference." 
 
 Clara's blush the more convinced Lady Der- 
 rington, that the advice she was giving was 
 judicious.
 
 CLARA FANE. 291 
 
 ff Promise me only one thing," she continued, 
 " that you will not see Mr. Loftus again while he 
 remains here; let your acquaintance with him 
 drop. I know it has been forced on you and that 
 you do not desire to continue it. I believe Edmond 
 to be no worse than most of the young men in 
 his class; I have hitherto thought him superior 
 to them, but I begin to fear he has not risen 
 above them. You have a hard struggle to 
 sustain in life, placed as you are, dependant on 
 your own prudence and exertions and it is not 
 enough for you to avoid doing evil, but to fly from 
 all appearances of it. The world is very hard- 
 judging and you have too much merit to escape 
 its persecutions ; all the precautions that can be 
 taken must be resorted to, to prevent the slightest 
 injury to your reputation, and it is not in the 
 care of Mr. Loftus that it must be left. Rely on 
 me and Isabella to rectify this mistake, as regards 
 you ; we will be as tender as we can of our im- 
 prudent friend, but since he selfishly exposed you 
 to the chance of slander, he ought to suffer the 
 penalty. Now then, let me insist on your fretting 
 no more, and trying to forget the whole affair ; 
 we will all appear at church together to-morrow, 
 and after that I shall take you myself, though I 
 hardly ever go out in a carriage, to call upon all 
 the outraged ladies of our neighbourhood. As 
 
 O 2
 
 292 CLAKA FANE. 
 
 you did not intend to remain with Mrs. Trumble, 
 there is no harm done there and her virtuous 
 indignation will subside, it is to be hoped, into a 
 silence which will in future deprive us of such 
 original letters as the one she has made an effort 
 to concoct, for your edification. 1 left Isabella in 
 a state of amaze, and after I. have released her 
 from it, I shall send her to take you out a walk 
 amongst the Druid Stones, where I hope some 
 oracle exists to proclaim the truth to the discom- 
 posed natives of our neighbourhood/* 
 
 Clara's spirits rose at once with the kind view 
 of the case which Lady Derrington had taken, 
 and as rapidly as she had imagined herself ruined 
 in reputation and fortune for ever, she leaped to 
 the conclusion that all would turn out to her 
 advantage. 
 
 During their walk that day, Miss Clinton 
 heard from Clara all those particulars which, from 
 delicacy to Mr. Loftus she had before suppressed. 
 Isabella listened gravely, and observed at the 
 close 
 
 " I have seen but little of life, and know the 
 world more from books than from observation. I 
 may be forgiven then for forming a perhaps pre- 
 judiced opinion of men by the few specimens I 
 have seen. So often it has been my lot to observe 
 selfishness and egotism in their character that I
 
 CLARA FANE. 293 
 
 cannot help coining to a conclusion that these 
 qualities form an integral portion of their natures. 
 , Women are almost always confiding, generou> 
 and unselfish, and these virtues seem to exist in 
 them for no other reason than to be offered up to 
 the bad feelings of the other sex, who without 
 pity or remorse sacrifice them on the altar of 
 their self-love. When one hears of some noble 
 instance of patriotism, or generosity, or devotion 
 in a public man, just as one has arrived at a pitch, 
 of enthusiasm for his great goodness, and has 
 made him almost a god, some revelation of his 
 private conduct and habits at once strips him of 
 all his beams, and shows him to be a being ac- 
 tuated merely by the selfish ambition of fame, 
 striving to obtain a name amongst strangers and 
 proving by each act of his every-day life that he 
 deserves punishment rather than applause. Of 
 what value is the love of a man who seeks to 
 gratify it by the injury of that which he professes 
 to love ? He allows himself to be carried away 
 by the violence of some feeling which he calls 
 admiration of beauty, and innocence, and virtue, 
 and he applauds himself for being touched by 
 them, and thinks he is right in using every effort 
 to cast a net over the prey he pursues, and draws 
 it towards him regardless of its pains, and strug- 
 gles, and sorrows. If he fails to obtain it, his
 
 CLARA FANE. 
 
 love usually changes to resentment he thinks 
 himself ill-used because he has been repulsed, and 
 instead of repenting and rejoicing in having 
 escaped a crime, he revenges himself on the 
 victim he had selected. Men for their own selfish 
 enjoyments, which to them is paramount, sacri- 
 fice every tender relation of life, and what would 
 seem to prove their unworthiness the more, is 
 that .they can enjoy what they gain at the ex- 
 pense of every one around them. Women may 
 feel remorse for a successful fault man never : 
 he only hugs himself in its enjoyment, and con- 
 siders that he has his right when he has stripped 
 every one to supply himself. I am so angry with 
 man that I could be content henceforth to ' re- 
 nounce all converse with the perfidious sex/ If 
 I had ever allowed myself to encourage a more 
 indulgent mood respecting them, it was in favour 
 of Edmond Loftus, and now he has shown me 
 that there can exist no purity of intention, no 
 real generosity, no delicacy and no principle in 
 the whole race \" 
 
 " Alas !" said Clara, " we are all so full of 
 faults our best actions are so undecided, our 
 motives so mysteriously hidden, even from our- 
 selves, that it would be unjust to pronounce judg- 
 ment on others :
 
 CLARA FANE. 295 
 
 ' Who with repentance is not satisfied, 
 Is nor of heaven or earth.' 
 
 and I do believe that Mr. Loftus is not* only sorry 
 for his folly, but if he knew how much danger it 
 has. placed me in, from which I could not have 
 been rescued but through the exalted kindness I 
 have met with here, he would be extremely dis- 
 tressed." 
 
 " No such thing/ 5 returned Miss Clinton, ' ' he 
 would merely think we had done our bounden 
 duty to him, had warded off a scandal which 
 might have affected him, and as for the object of 
 his persecution, as she is probably not the first 
 nor will be the last, he will only change his plan 
 on another occasion and proceed with more cau- 
 tion : if he had found that the storm could not 
 be evaded, he would have fled from it made 
 himself wings and been borne off to some distant 
 region, where the report of his ill-doings would 
 not have reached him. Men are content if they 
 can fly from the consequences of evil, but not 
 content to give it up, fly where they will. But," 
 she added, smiling at her own anger, "we may 
 talk long enough it is a poor remedy. 
 
 ' Vain privilege poor women have of tongue. 
 Men can stand silent and resolve on wrong.' " 
 
 " My dear Miss Clinton," said Clara ; " I am
 
 96 CLARA FANE. 
 
 bound to respect your prejudice in this instance, 
 even if it be one, because it arises from your kind 
 feeling for me, and your indignation at what 
 seems an injury intended me." 
 
 " ' Seems, madam, nay it is ! 
 I know not seems !' " 
 
 interrupted Miss Clinton. " Mr. Loftus, with the 
 best intentions in the world, no doubt, to amuse 
 his leasure, he, a man of fortune and independ- 
 ance, seeks you, a stranger follows you to a 
 quiet retreat where you have found an honour- 
 able employment, interrupts your studies, disturbs 
 your peace, endangers your reputation, and leaves 
 you a prey to malignity and scandal all for his 
 amusement because a man has a right to enter- 
 tain himself and pass his time pleasantly. Sup- 
 pose he had succeeded in gaining your affection ? 
 Suppose you had been impressed with his merits, 
 such as they appear, the result might have been 
 the reality of that which now is supposed by the 
 evil-minded world to have happened. You were 
 made miserable for life, and Mr. Loftus' s character 
 would rise as high as ever from its momentary 
 depression. The annihilation of a woman's exist- 
 ence is nothing so that the happiness of a man 
 is secured I" 
 
 " Is not this view of the case rather unjust,
 
 CLARA FANE. 297 
 
 dear Miss Clinton ?" said Clara, timidly ; {< if it 
 be granted that there is much selfishness in man, 
 we must not forget that the vanity of woman often 
 leads her into equal errors ; and what, after all, 
 is vanity but selfishness ? Is it not the pleasure 
 of being admired, of gaining applause for ima- 
 ginary merits that conducts to enormous faults ? 
 Vanity leads women to quit every honourable 
 pursuit and employment, to condescend to the 
 flattery of persons whom she knows to be despic- 
 able, to sacrifice herself for words, for air, for a 
 breath, which she is conscious is worthless 
 without attachment, without feeling, without de- 
 votion to her object, she will sometimes submit to 
 become a. prey to gratify a puerile vauity which 
 is a Will-o'-the-wisp to lead her into danger. 
 Surely this vanity is a mark for that selfishness ? 
 Sometimes when faults are met by resistance, 
 and contempt and coldness are the only reward of 
 idle temerity, a reaction takes place, and a virtue 
 may spring from error, which may in the end 
 redeem it provided its punishment is not carried 
 too far." 
 
 " Ah, Clara, Clara !" said Miss Clinton, looking 
 mournfully at her, "you argue with too much 
 tenderness to be impartial." 
 
 "No," replied Clara, blushing; "I try to 
 judge impartially, and surely in the present case
 
 298 CLARA FANE. 
 
 I have a right to be considered so, for I am the 
 injured party, and I plead for the culprit. I 
 allow something for Mr. Loftus's position, and 
 the society in which I first met him, which 
 probably give him an unfavourable impression 
 of me. 
 
 " I do not forgive him that," said Miss Clinton, 
 " he should have seen at once in your face what 
 you were, and though he had met you in the 
 midst of the rabble-rout of Comus, he should 
 have recognised in you c The Lady.' " 
 
 " Well," replied Clara, laughing, " he has been 
 obliged to fecognise her in me since, and to dis- 
 pel his enchantments and disguises. The Lady 
 in Comus sat unscathed amongst the wild scenes 
 of which she formed no part and though I had 
 no brothers to come to my rescue, I found a 
 friend in my need who has served me as well." 
 
 " I blame you," said Miss Clinton, " for 
 screening him at all if you had told me all re- 
 specting him at the time you related your history 
 to me, I should have been prepared for this out- 
 burst on the part of the envious ladies of our 
 county as it was, I was taken by surprise, 
 and mamma was shocked. I do not intend to 
 forgive Mr. Loftus for a long time and as he 
 has been invited by my father to dinner to- 
 day, I recommend that you and I absent our-
 
 CLARA FANE. 299 
 
 selves, and go and drink tea with my nurse 
 Mrs. Woodhouse, in her cottage at the farm at 
 the other end of the park. No doubt Mr. Loftus 
 expects to see you here, and he shall be dis- 
 appointed, at any rate, which will be the be- 
 ginning of his penance." 
 
 
 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 W. OSTELL, PRINTER, HART STREET, BLOOMSBURY SQUARE.
 
 000 056 9U 5
 
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